On the Rocks (Last Call #1)(58)
When I reach her, I take ahold of her elbow and love how she doesn’t flinch, because she knows immediately it’s me. Turning her around, she hits me with a stunning smile.
“Hey you,” she says in welcome.
“Hey,” I tell her, giving her arm a squeeze. “Want you to meet someone… This is my agent, Keith Carr. He flew in from L.A. to discuss some offers that are on the table for me.”
Looking past me to Keith, Gabby flashes him a full-blown smile as well and gives him a firm handshake. “Good to meet you, Keith. Hope you’re taking care of our boy here.”
Keith’s eyebrows shoot up, and he looks from me to Gabby. “Our boy?”
Slipping my arm around Gabby’s waist, I say, “This is Gabby Ward… my girlfriend.”
It feels so odd, yet so right, calling her my girlfriend. She claimed she was mine last night, and I took her at face value. I’m sticking with that moniker for now.
“Well, this is a nice surprise,” Keith says, and I think I sense an undertone of censorship there, but his face looks completely open and happy for me. “How long have you two been dating?”
I swear I can hear Gabby snort inside her mind, because “dating” isn’t exactly how this started out. More like banging each other’s brains out, but it’s definitely not that anymore. I mean, yeah, we still tear it up in the bedroom, but I think we’ve both solidly, if not silently, agreed this is way more than just sex.
“I’ve known Gabby my whole life. She’s Casey’s best friend. It just sort of happened when I got back into town.”
“Ah,” Keith says in understanding, but I’m sure he really understands nothing because what Gabby and I have is surreal and unique, and can’t be boiled down to a few words.
Leaning down, I give Gabby a kiss on her temple. “I’m going to hang with Keith for a while today. Want to meet us back out here tonight for some drinks? John and Sasha are going to be in some time around eight.”
“Sure,” she tells me with a smile and a gentle pat on my chest with her hand. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Gabby starts to turn away, but I reach out and grab her hand. She turns to me, this time with a bit of surprise on her face, and tilts her head to the side. There’s nothing I really want to say, so I just step in and skim my fingers under her jaw, just before I lean in to give her a soft kiss on her lips. “See you tonight.”
She gives a tiny sigh, which causes that panging sensation in my chest as I pull away. Quirking her lips at me, she winks and turns away.
Looking back at Keith, he’s watching me thoughtfully while chewing on the end of his sunglasses. He seems to be almost appraising and then judging my interaction with Gabby, and it starts to get my hackles up.
“What?” I ask as I walk back into the bar, Keith following me.
“Nothing,” he says.
“Bullshit… what’s the look for?”
“It’s just I’ve never seen you act that way with a woman before, and trust me… I’ve seen you around plenty of women.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, stopping mid-stride and turning around to face him. “You’ve seen me be that way with Sasha before.”
“No, man. Not like that. Never like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’d never walk away from that,” he points out quietly. “Is she why you’re having a hard time making a decision?”
My immediate gut reaction tells me to deny, because the reason I’m hesitant is that I’m afraid to leave Brody. But the minute he mentions Gabby in conjunction with me leaving the Outer Banks to go back on tour, I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, which does not bode well for me.
Shaking it off, I clap Keith on the back. “No, she’s not the reason. It’s the same reason I left the tour, and you know what I’m talking about. Now, let’s get out of here so we can talk about it.”
Keith nods, and we head out. I fully intend to discuss with him and use him as my sounding board about my concerns for Brody. Even if I take the endorsements and commit to competing next year, I’m not sure I can just pack up and leave right now to get back on the circuit. I’d need time to get Last Call situated and decide if Brody can handle it. If not, could I sell it… or hire someone trustworthy to manage it.
No, my decision about whether to go back on tour has nothing to do with Gabby and has everything to do with Brody, and whether or not I could leave my brother when he is clearly still so lost.
I hold these truths to be self-evident.
I’m so f*cking in love with Hunter, and yes, I know I’m quoting the Declaration of Independence to summarize my feelings at this point, but that’s a damn good clause.
Watching him now, the way he laughs, the way he touches me… the way he talks about me. I’m sunk in deep and there’s no preventing it, and there’s certainly no trying to claw my way out. There’s only one thing left to do… and that is give over to the euphoric feeling that courses through my body when I finally admit to myself that I love Hunter Markham.
We’re all having a great time at Last Call. I’m sitting at a large, round table with Hunter to my left. To my right is John, looking tanned and windblown, his fist curled around a Budweiser. Sasha sits beside him, intent on talking to Wyatt, who is on her other side. She’s wasted no time in latching on to him since she arrived, and I’m completely fine with sacrificing Wyatt to the greater good of the “stay the hell away from Hunter” game plan. Part of me even suspects Wyatt is intentionally keeping Sasha occupied, so her focus stays away from Hunter.