Peppermint
The crowd stays steady throughout the night, and there’s a groan when Lina announces last call. I’m exhausted. My feet hurt, and I’ve smiled so much my cheeks are aching. I’m more than ready to go home. Maybe there I can figure out what it means to have Owen back in my life.
Okay. Technically, he’s not back in my life.
He didn’t even notice me. Didn’t gasp when he saw my face. Not the way I did when I saw his. There was a time in my life when his face was what I saw in my dreams. When I would sneak away to see him. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but he was worth the guilt.
But life doesn’t always go as planned. I found out I was pregnant with Ryan’s baby. Not Owen’s. And although I loved Owen, I had this fear he didn’t fully love me back. Not the way I loved him.
And I’m an idiot for doing the same thing all over again. No, I don’t love Dash. But I’m more invested than he is. I have reminded myself hundreds of times in the short period of time since we crossed the line that this is fun. It’s all for fun. I’m supposed to enjoy using his body and letting him use mine. But I’m not wired that way. I already wonder what happens next.
Will things be awkward at the clubhouse, or will he still try to teach me how to play the PS4 games he loves so much? Will we pretend this isn’t happening or will we put it out there? Will he still fuck the club whores? That’s a question I don’t want the answer to.
“The guys are coming out of the VIP so we’ll start shutting down. I don’t know about you, but I’m dog tired,” Skylar says.
“I’m definitely going home to a hot shower and bed. I may even skip the hot shower until the morning.”
She laughs, nodding in agreement. I start clearing the bar of empty bottles and peanut hulls. We opted for roasted peanuts — in the hull. Have you ever considered how many germs are in those bowls of nuts? Gross.
“Can I get a beer?”
I don’t even glance up. “Sorry, pal, we’re closing down.”
“What about for an old friend?”
I look up then. Owen stands across from me. That handsome smirk I remember so well plastered on his face. That same dimple on his left cheek. Damn.
“I thought that was you upstairs,” he says. “It’s been a long time, Piper.”
My real name. Not the nickname my husband gave me. Not what Dash calls me. When he would call me Piper, I used to get butterflies in my stomach. Used to lose my breath. Feel my heart hammering in my chest.
Right now? I don’t know what I’m feeling.
“Yes, it has. Years. Lots and lots of years.”
His smile spreads. “You look as good as you always did. Don’t think you’ve aged a day.”
I scoff. “We both know that’s a damn lie.”
“See, that’s when you’re supposed to say something like, ‘Owen, you haven’t changed at all. Still as ruggedly handsome as ever.’ You know, return the compliment.”
He’s flirting with me. Blatantly flirting with me. Am I supposed to like it or not? If I flirt back, what will Dash think? Will he even care?
Refusing to stress about that, I put on my best southern belle voice and say, “Owen, my goodness, you haven’t changed at all. Still as ruggedly handsome as ever.”
“I see you still have your sense of humor,” he laughs. “So, about that beer, why don’t we get it to go?”
Pretty sure our relationship started like this. Flirty conversation, and him not shy about going for it. I was young and had only been with one guy. The thought of another one being interested in me made me consider the possibility of a relationship with a guy aside from Ryan. Of experiencing something else — someone else.
“I really have to stay behind and get closed. Can’t abandon the other girls.”
It’s an excuse. A flat-out excuse. But I don’t know where my head is at the moment. Part of me is reminiscing on the times I had with Owen, wondering if things would be as good now. Or better.
The other part is anxious for this place to clear out so I can be with Dash again. To have him between my legs, making me feel things no one else ever has. Including Owen.