Crave (The Gibson Boys 3)
Page 3
“Chicken,” Peck calls after her.
Nora’s retort and Peck’s heckles fall to the wayside as Hadley gets closer.
Freckles splash across her face like they always do at the end of summer. Pieces of her hair are bleached by the sun, and her body is curvier than I remember and hot. As. Hell.
The day may look worse, but she’s never looked better.
My fingers dig into the wooden bar as her muscled, tanned legs carry her my way. The white blouse almost hides the tops of her breasts, and it takes every fucking bit of self-restraint I have not to hop over the bar, pick her up, and carry her right out of here. When her brows raise in a “Got a problem?” kind of way, I hear Peck cackle. And as my hand falls to the crotch of my pants to adjust myself, I realize I don’t have one problem. I most definitely have two.
Hadley’s eyes meet mine, and she lifts her chin. I don’t flinch. I flinched once years ago. That’s what started this bullshit situation I can’t win.
“Front row seats,” Peck says, leaning toward me. “How’d I get so lucky?”
“Ask yourself that in thirty seconds.”
“What’s in thirty seconds?”
“I’m gonna split your lip.” I fire a glare his way. “You didn’t have anything to do with this, did you?”
“Uh, no. I want a beer. Not dead.”
“Just makin’ sure,” I grumble.
Hadley struts across the room as though she owns the damn place. It’s impossible not to watch her. Most people would buy the confident game she’s playing, but most people aren’t me.
Her chin is lifted too high. Her lipstick too red. Her walk too practiced to mean anything other than she’s nervous as hell.
“Hey,” she says. Her words are breathy as though she’s just run a mile. “Can I get a …” She glances at Peck as she sits beside him. “A rum and Coke?”
The corner of my lip is all that moves. “You want a rum and Coke?”
“That’s what I said.”
Her eyes, the same color as Nana’s butterscotch pie, stare into mine. I keep searching until I find the flecks of jade that pop when she’s worked up about something. The first time I saw them, I offered her a ride home from school. The second time, I was kissing her by the payphone at Goodman’s. The third time, I was sinking into her next to a campfire on Bluebird Hill. This isn’t the fourth time I’ve seen them, but it still causes the same fire to rocket through my body.
Damn her.
Customers buzz around us, unaware that I can barely breathe. Billiard balls crack, rock music plays, and voices laugh—enough diversions to disrupt my attention. Yet all I can focus on is the spark between me and this beautiful girl who makes me want to rip my hair out.
Nora bumps my shoulder as she slides Peck a beer. “Hey, Hadley.”
“Hey, Nora.”
“Is everything okay?” Nora asks.
“Yeah.” Hadley shrugs, the tiny little clover I won for her at the Water Festival all those years ago moving until it tucks between her breasts. “I just thought I’d come in for a drink before I head over to Cross’s.”
Nora glances at me out of the corner of her eye. A grin stretches across her cheeks as she looks back at Hadley. “Good luck with that.”
“Right?” Hadley laughs. “Don’t get me wrong. Cross and Kallie are perfect for each other, and I’m happy they’re together. But staying there while they’re in this honeymoon phase of their relationship should be fun.”
She makes a face that I just want to kiss off her. I want to reach across the bar and grip the back of her silky sun-kissed reddish hair and pull her to me until there’s nothing but a bunch of memories we’re better off to forget between the two of us.
Instead, I grip the bar harder. The laminate top cracks. Peck must notice because he chokes on his beer.
“I meant good luck getting that drink, but good luck with Cross too,” Nora says with a laugh. “I gotta check on the hoodlums in the back. It was good to see you, Had.”
“You too.” Hadley lifts the clover and toys with it in the air. Our gazes lock. “So …?”
Blood rushes back to my fingers as I release the counter. I search for any hint as to why she’s sitting in my bar because she doesn’t sit in my bar. Not even when things are semi-reasonable between us.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
Her chin drops at the harshness of the question. “It’s good to see you, too, asshole.” Her gaze chills and lingers on my skin for what feels like an eternity before she rips it away. Despite the frigidity, I’m irritated when her attention lands on Peck. “What’s going on in your life, anyway, Peck?”
Peck takes a drink. “Oh, same old, same old. Working at Crank with Walker and keeping my tab here active.”