On the Rocks (Last Call #1)(56)
I remember from the time we were kids, we never really shared the same taste in movies. At first, when she was younger, it’s because she was interested in stupid, girlie movies. As she got older, and we would often watch movies together at my house—Gabby, Casey, Brody, Wyatt, and me—she wanted more slapstick comedy, and I tended to want guns and bombs blowing shit up.
It appears, as we are in early adulthood, we’ve sort of settled into those genres and, since I promised her she could pick, we’re watching Talladega Nights and not Mission Impossible: 4.
But I’m at peace, because even though I can’t get into this movie, I can totally get into watching Gabby watch this movie. She is laughing her ass off almost the entire time, twice snorting, which made her laugh even harder. Her body is warm and soft, pressed up tight against me, and her hair smells like clover and honey.
It’s nice having her all to myself tonight. We’ve both been working hard during the day, her more so than me, as her crew has been scrambling to get the covered roof built before this weekend when showers are predicted. Even though the new bar she built is covered with a tarp, she wanted the added protection of the roof. Now all she has left is getting the retractable walls installed next week and the staining done, then she can move on—hopefully to the Coursier’s project.
Gabby has stayed with me every night this week. She’s developed an easygoing friendship with John and a polite tolerance for Sasha. Oh, Sasha came off nice that first night with a heartfelt apology, but I’ve noticed she tries to get in little licks on Gabby, which are just subtle enough to be overlooked, but just biting enough that you know she’s full of passive aggressiveness.
Just last night, Gabby cooked spaghetti for everyone, which was delicious, but Sasha had to make sure she told her that I wasn’t particularly fond of Italian sausage in the sauce. I think it was Sasha’s way of reminding Gabby that she had me first and that she knew things about me that Gabby didn’t, which let’s face it… has got to be tough on the new girlfriend. But before I could even come to Gabby’s rescue, she just smiled at Sasha and said, “Duly noted. If he doesn’t like it, he can pick it out.”
I roared with laughter over that, and so did John for that matter. Sasha just got a pinched look on her face and ate her spaghetti in silence. When I looked at Gabby, she shot me a wink and then slurped a noodle up so fast that it flopped all around and stuck to her chin.
A complete dork, and I loved it.
Gabby howls with laughter at the movie, her body stiffening, and her head thrown back against my shoulder.
“I’m gonna come at you like a spider monkey,” she mimics as she wheezes in between laughing. “Oh my God… I think I’m going to pee my pants.”
“You’re such a dork,” I chuckle as I squeeze my arms around her.
Her laughter slows down a bit, but her voice is still buoyant. “Yeah, but I’m your dork.”
“Yes, you are,” I murmur as I lean over and press my lips to the back of her head.
All of her merriment shuts off instantaneously. It goes not only deathly quiet, but her body freezes in my embrace. Then she rolls to face me, her eyes questioning mine for something, but I don’t know what she’s seeking.
“Gabby—”
“Shh,” she whispers as her fingertips press up against my lips. She watches me for a moment more, her eyes flickering back and forth between the boundaries of my own gaze as she smiles tenderly. “I’m glad I’m your dork.”
Gabby removes her fingers from my mouth and leans in, brushing her lips across mine. Hers are so soft and full, generously covering my own with satin care. When she presses in harder, my mouth opens, gratefully accepting her searching tongue.
It’s forever the same, the electric surge of desire that overwhelms me from just the contact of her kiss. My arms tighten around her, returning her passion and claiming her as my own. But it’s also different, because Gabby uttered some very important words to me just a moment ago. She released them out into the world, and I accepted them.
She said she was mine.
A weird feeling pierces my chest, painful and warm… like a vice-grip around my heart, squeezing forth the longing and opening it back up for something more peacefully filling.
Gabby said she was mine, and it feels f*cking fantastic.
Yes, I’m liking this feeling a lot.
Standing at the bar, I look back over the inventory sheets that Brody had filled out and try to make my purchase list for the upcoming week. It’s one of the things I dread about Saturday the most… trying to figure out what shit I have and what shit I need to buy to keep the doors open and my food and drink flowing.
I look up briefly to see Brody stacking new glasses, his head bent… quietly working. Our relationship has been strained this past week, ever since his blow up with Alyssa. I tried to talk to him about it the next day, but he firmly told me it was done, he wasn’t apologizing, and he wasn’t talking about it. Since then, he’s lapsed into being more of an introvert and only speaks when spoken to.
Glancing out the back door onto the deck, I see Gabby out there with her crew, finishing up the final build out of the covered roof. It looks fantastic, and I cannot wait to open that area up to customers… just in time for the start of the tourist season.
My thoughts drift back to last night. When we started kissing on the couch, all thoughts of Ricky Bobby, snorting, and spider monkeys completely obliterated, I reveled in the fact that we just made out for like an hour. Soft kissing, our hands stroking each other, whispery sighs from Gabby… it went on forever and I still could have kept at it, but then Gabby whispered that she wanted to go to bed, and well… that was that.