Restless Night (Insomniac Duet 1)

PEYTON

Everything has fallen into place.Work. Life. Both feel more on track than any other time in the past. For once, I am headed in the right direction.

Can’t remember the last time life flowed so smoothly. Had this level of comfort. Streamlined without effort. Maybe with Chad?

Chad Lark—the first guy I dated, post high school. Guys in high school weren’t worth my time, effort, or energy. But Chad was different. Mature and kind and gentle—although he knew how and when to be rough and harsh. In our two years together, we were inseparable. A team. He was the marrying type and I would have said yes.

Unfortunately, Chad never got to ask.

One morning, Chad didn’t wake up. The coroner said a natural defect caused the chambers of his heart to not contract as normally. He died peacefully in his sleep. He was twenty-two. We had started planning for the future. Hinted at taking the next step. Neither of us aware that his heart had a sooner expiration date.

They say you never forget your first love. The sentiment is true. I will never forget Chad.

Sadly, I have dealt with enough heartache to last multiple lifetimes. One can only hope I have met my quota.

Life is on an upswing. Work is taking steps along a positive path. I busted my ass—contrary to what Micah believes—to get here. Learned so much about the business and have done my fair share of hands-on. Ani groomed me little by little over the span of our friendship. Long before the announcement of my promotion, she pegged me as her go-to person. Someone she trusted. Someone she wanted to help run her business. I was more than thrilled to be chosen by her. Ani will always be more than my boss. She’s the sister I never had growing up.

Outside of work… well, that seems to be pretty damn good too.

In a matter of months, I went from loathing Micah Reed to fantasizing over our next kiss. The way his lips devour, the way he puts every ounce of passion into each kiss… my body quivers. Trembles and whimpers, imagining the idea of more. Of his bare chest against my breasts. Of his hands and fingers tracing lines and peaks and valleys as he maps my body. Of his lips on my breasts, my abdomen, and between my thighs.

“Hey.” Micah sidles up to me behind the bar. “Everything alright? You’re flush.” Starry eyes survey every exposed inch of my skin.

I pour a glass of water and drink it. “Fine. Just got warm.”

When the glass empties, Micah inches closer and brings a hand to my cheek. “Sure you’re alright?” I knock his hand away and he has a light bulb moment. Leaning closer, his lips and hot breath brush my ear. “Were you thinking about me just now? About us?”

I breathe in short, quick bursts. My breasts rise and fall and graze his pecs. Heat blooms from my chest, paints my skin, my neck, my cheeks. Fingers trail up the side of my thigh, stop at my hip bone and squeeze.

Part of me worries what our interaction looks like from an outsider’s perspective. Are we the center of attention? Can people not look away? Not that Roar has brought in a crowd tonight.

The other part of me doesn’t give a damn and aches to drag him closer. Smash my lips to his. Kiss him like he is my last meal. Ignore the audience and take what I want.

“Yes,” I answer, breathy. No sense in skirting around the truth.

“What were you thinking about?” His tongue licks the shell of my ear. My eyes roll shut as my bones turn to putty. “Tell me, Peyton.”

Jesus fuck. Now is not the time for this conversation. Roar—among employees and patrons—is not the place to have this conversation. But with each passing second, my will to steer this talk in another direction becomes more difficult.

I hook fingers in his front pockets. Eager to pull him to me, but keep him rooted in place. “Was thinking about last night.” I lick my lips. “Kissing you.”

“Kissing me then?” He nips my earlobe. “Or kissing me now?”

“Both,” I admit, softly. “How I want your hands on my skin.”

His chest vibrates as a growl tears up his throat. A hand fists my hip. “Come over again tonight.”

It isn’t a question. More like a directive. I hate the way I love his subdued demand.

“We aren’t having sex,” I whisper, in the hopes no one hears this not-safe-for-work conversation.

The hand on my hips tightens and releases. “There’re other ways to enjoy each other without sex. Figured you’d know that, hellcat.” He inches away. “Come over.”

The lights and ’80s music flood back in as cool air smacks my face. My eyes scan the club, behind the bar, but no one pays us any attention. At least not now.

“Yeah, okay.”

A bright, toothy smile lights up Micah’s face. I love this smile. “Perfect.” He smacks my ass. “Now, get back to work.”

The rest of the night goes as slow as last night. Weekdays during the summer can be hit or miss for places like Roar. Hence why Ani wanted fresh ideas. New attractants to draw in the same crowd and maybe new people. With Ani, her market research, and how she wants things perfect from the get-go, the new changes will be great for business.

As the night wears on, the crowd thins and Micah lets the staff leave early, one by one. With thirty minutes until the door locks, Kaylynn and I start stocking and cleanup while Micah serves.

Sweeping the floor behind the bar, I peer down at the opposite end as a blonde woman steps up. In a blazing-red dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, she smiles at Micah and leans toward him. A shiver rolls down my spine as he returns the smile. Although it’s forced, I recognize the familiarity between them.