Bar Crawl(15)

With half a grin he shook his head. “Nope.”

I threw my head back and chuckled. “Oh, so you’re going to tell me the first time I saw you was different than what it was?”

“Dunes. New Year’s Eve. I play there every New Year’s Eve, but you had never been there. I remember watching you walk in. The snow stuck to the ends of your hair…” he trailed off, seeming to give me a minute to catch up.

I opened and closed my mouth once, then a second time for good measure. He was right. He was f*cking right. I had been at Dunes on New Year’s Eve. Annoyed to be traveling so far in the snow, Bradley had promised me awesome house bands and a break from the average drunk and disorderly New Year’s scene. He had been right; Dunes was far more of a local tavern than any of the other places we frequented.

“I don’t…” I cleared my throat. “I don’t remember seeing you that night.”

His shoulders fell slightly as he pointed to the bench next to me. I shrugged, rather noncommittally, and sat next to him. “I played early and spent the rest of the night hanging out with my friends.”

It still didn’t make sense that I wouldn’t have noticed him. You can’t really not notice CJ—even when he’s not behind a drum set. He’s such a massive figure that even if he wasn’t incredibly hot, one is likely to notice him. His shoulders were so broad that it made him seem larger than he actually was. He was probably around 6 feet tall in principle, but in practice he appeared well over 6’5”. He stood with perfect posture, had a loud voice that carried over even the strongest bar noise, and always clapped once—loudly—when he laughed. His going unnoticed by me ever seemed highly unlikely.

“So? CJ, I would have remembered seeing you. I’m sure of it.” I certainly wasn’t about to tell him all the thoughts about his appearance that had just run through my head.

“I hid,” he admitted, and he looked honest—if not a bit embarrassed—though I wasn’t really sure what either sounded like from him.

“You’re kidding.” I twisted my lips and looked up at him, but his face was completely humor-free.

He shook his head. “I didn’t want you to see that I kept staring at you, so I hid. And I thought Bradley was your boyfriend.”

At that, I burst into laughter.

“Hey,” CJ held up his hands, “my gaydar is shit. I didn’t know until I saw you with him that night I finally did hit on you. It didn’t occur to me that someone as beautiful as you would be without a boyfriend—let alone on New Year’s Eve.”

“What is that about? The whole needing to be with someone on New Year’s Eve thing? When did that even start?” My cheeks warmed at his words about my appearance but I couldn’t address them.

“Beats me.” CJ sounded exhausted.

“Why weren’t you with someone that night?” I challenged. “Or…were you?” I cringed at the words as they spilled out of my mouth, but they were honest. And, I could—at the very least—guarantee my own honesty.

He rolled his eyes. “No. I wasn’t with anyone because I’m not usually with anyone. Which, I suppose, is why you turned me down that time, huh?”

I stared at his eyes and the way they fell on his fingers as he picked at the skin on his palms.

His words and his body language typically spoke loudest for him. When I was forced to think back to the first thing I noticed about him, it had been how honest his eyes had looked—and how out of place they seemed of the rest of him. “Shit,” I whispered. “You’re really a f*cking writer, aren’t you?”

Then—with much relief to me—CJ let out that full-throated laugh that had drawn my eyes to his back all of those months ago. “Yeah,” he gasped for air, “I am.”

Without thinking, I leaned my head on his shoulder and growled. I held out my hand. “Come on,” I mumbled.

“What?” he asked, not hesitating to take my hand in his. He paused for a minute before deciding to shift his fingers between mine.

“You’re coming to my place. Clearly, we need to get to know each other better.” I tugged his arm and started walking, but was met with resistance as he seemed to dig his heels into the sidewalk. “What?”

He wore a wry look. “You’re moving a little fast for me, Frankie.”

I chuckled, shaking my head as I resumed my walk down the warm concrete. “You’re an ass.”

CJ followed in step soon enough, and we walked in silence, holding hands the entire way to my home. Even though we’d both driven to the coffee shop.





CJ




It took about ten minutes to walk to her place. Neither of us spoke. I was afraid to, because I figured that the second I said anything, she’d realize whose hand she was holding, drop it, and run. She was way out of my league, and I had to play my hand carefully if I wanted even a minute more of her time.

While I wasn’t sure what motivations were working in the background of my brain, I’d surrendered to the idea that I was infatuated with her. I wanted her, sure. But, more than that, I just wanted to be around her. I’d guessed correctly that she was a teacher, but nothing prepared me for the fact that she was an English teacher; one that worked at a library on the weekends at that.