The Taste of Her Words

by Candace Knoebel

  I looked up at him. “I do work at a bar, Dean. I think I can do this without supervision.”

  His face screwed up. “Why do you assume so much? I want to grab myself a beer. Obviously, you can handle yourself.”

  I watched him for a moment, seeing the small bit of hesitation in his eyes, and then turned back, plowing into the crowd of dancers and drunks. Squeezing between two old men, I flagged the bartender over and ordered another round of shots and Dean’s beer. I slid the money over the sticky counter after they were poured and then turned, heading to the table with careful precision.

  “Next round,” I said to Josh, handing him his shot. We counted, shot, and then stacked the glasses. As the fire subsided, I pointed to Josh. “Your turn to buy the rounds.”

  “Jesus, someone’s wound up. How about we slow down a bit?” Josh’s eyes scanned over the crowd. “The night is young, and I’d hate to see you on your ass before the fun really begins.”

  “Oh, is that why?” I asked, feeling fire in my spirit. Ready to prove him and the rest of the world wrong.

  He looked at me funny. “Yeah. That’s why.” He brushed his hand through his hair before sliding off his stool. “I see someone in the corner who’s begging me to hit on her. Be right back.”

  I looked at all the empty glasses and felt cursed responsibility clawing its way up the back of my mind. I shouldn’t be out. I had a child back at home. But I also couldn’t remember the last time I’d been out. I glanced over at Dean and instantly regretted it. He was watching me, sipping his beer.

  Were his eyes always that intense? Always so deep and full of secrets and questions?

  “You want to dance?” he asked as he set his beer down.

  “Huh?”

  He smirked. “Dance,” he said, making hand motions. “You want to?”

  My forehead creased. “I don’t dance,” I lied, looking past him for a waitress. I needed a beer. Like yesterday.

  “That’s not how I remember it.”

  I straightened the shoulders of my shirt, feeling like a floodlight was on me. “What do you mean?”

  “You said you don’t dance. That’s not how I remember it.”

  “And just what do you remember, Dean?” I asked, raising my hand in the air to get the waitress’ attention.

  “I remember when you used to invite your friends over for the Fourth of July get-togethers, and how you’d always dance out by the pool after the fireworks with them.”

  “Obviously, you’d remember that,” I said, snorting. “All my friends were hot and in swimsuits. What young boy wouldn’t notice?”

  The waitress stopped by me, took my order, and then turned to Dean. “Anything you need, hun?” she asked, voice like honey as she leaned in.

  He barely looked at her when he said, “I’m good, thanks.” After the waitress hurried off, he added, “I never noticed any of your friends. Just you.”

  I couldn’t tell if the heat in my cheeks was from the whiskey or not. “Okay, Dean,” I said, trying to downplay the waves of intensity rolling off him, drowning my rationality.

  “I’m serious,” he continued, not wanting to let up. “You have this energy that draws every eye in the room when you dance. I always… always wanted to ask you, but never found the courage.”

  There was a sort of sad longing in what he said that it chipped away at the boulder blocking my heart. I knew what it was like to stand outside the window looking in, wishing to have what was so far out of reach, and I didn’t want to feel responsible for that look in his eyes and that tone in his voice. A dance was harmless. Two bodies moving to music didn’t mean we’d wind up in bed. Right?

  Tie you up and watch me strip,

  Your eyes like hands on my body.

  Josh bumped into me, and I immediately hopped off the stool.

  “Time for round three,” Josh said, a tall blonde tucked under his arm. “I’ll grab the shots.”

  “I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” I rushed out, turning before anyone could say anything. I made my way through the crowd and headed straight for the restroom, past the pool tables and dartboards. Two girls stood by the sink, hogging the mirrors, so I headed into the only empty stall and locked it, trying to ignore the stench of booze and urine.

  What the hell, Andy?

  I grabbed my phone from my pocket and opened a text to Eric.

  No. He will encourage you.

  I backed out and opened a text to Cami. She knew me better than anyone. She’d set my mind straight.

  Hey, you awake? I sent.

  A second later she responded: When am I not? What’s up? How is your mom?

  I cut right to the chase. She’s still her. I have a question for you. I’m out at a bar and a guy is totally flirting with me. I’m not sure what to do.

  I bit my nail. Watched in suspense as the wave of dots glided up and down. Jesus… is she typing a novel?

  A moment later, she sent: You’re at a bar? Damn you! Of course you’d go when you’re not in town. Out of the millions of times I try to take you out, you choose to go when I can’t. I should unfriend you. Aside from that, screw him, obviously! But only if he’s cute, clean, and safe. Seriously. When was the last time you let go and had some fun?

  I should have known she’d be as bad and as encouraging as Eric.

  He’s twenty-four, Cami. A baby compared to me.

  I didn’t know why I omitted the part about him being my brother’s best friend. Okay, maybe that was a lie. I just… I didn’t want to hear the judgment. Maybe a small part of me wanted to be told to do it. To go ahead and have one wild, reckless night. What thirty-year-old who hadn’t been laid since before she was pregnant wouldn’t?

  Even better! Do it, Andy. For me. Please. WE need this. Now, stop texting me and get back out there before you lose this chance!

  I bit my lip, stomach tightening with excitement as I typed: Okay.

  I closed my eyes as I hit send, and then slid the phone back in my pocket. Looking up at all the Sharpied names and words written all over the stall in a blur, I listened to the music thumping outside the bathroom door. Maybe if I kept it to flirting, but nothing more. That wouldn’t be so bad. Dean was obviously handsome and sweet. A little harmless flirting wouldn’t be a terrible thing. People did it every day.

  God, you’re a mess. You can’t even flirt without having a panic attack.

  After washing my hands, I headed to the table, set on letting myself go. Tired of winding up in stalls questioning my every move.

  “You okay?” Dean asked as soon as I approached. The worry in his eyes melted what remaining resolve I had.

  “I’m good,” I said, meaning it this time. “Ready?” I looked to Josh, reaching for my shot.

  “I was born ready,” he declared, smiling at the girl next to him.

  HOURS LATER AND THREE MORE shots in, Josh had disappeared somewhere with the blonde, forfeiting the drinking challenge.

  The alcohol had spread to every part of my body until it took over all my limbs, making me sway to the beat of the music. I caught Dean looking my way a few times, but I welcomed it instead of turning away from him. I flashed smiles instead of grimaces. Batted my lashes instead of rolling my eyes.

  I thought he gave me an odd look a few times, maybe questioning just how much I’d had, but he never said a word, so I shoved the thought away.

  I knew it was nearing last call when I noticed the bartenders preparing to close, and a sudden wave of regret washed over me. I didn’t want the night to end with idle conversation and odd looks passed between one another. I came out to have a good time, yet I hadn’t done what I’d been dying to do all night.

  Dance.

  “I want to dance now,” I said, looking over at him.

  “Oh, okay.” He set his beer down. “I’ll hold the table for us.”

  I giggled and ran my finger over his hand. “No, I want to dance with you,” I said, my smile turning serious.

  He stared at me for a moment, somethi
ng I was beginning to enjoy, and I thought maybe he didn’t hear me over the music pounding. But then he was on his feet and helping me off my stool, guiding me to the dance floor, his hand hovering just over the small of my back. Bodies moved and swayed as voices filled every empty space on the floor. It was like we left one world and entered an entirely different one. He spun me to face him and watched my hips, moving with me as my arms lifted into the air and my head fell back.

  It had been years since I danced. Since I’d felt young and beautiful enough to.

  When I opened my eyes, the way he watched me, the way his eyes were so intent, felt almost like they were touching every inch of skin they roamed. He licked his lips. Grabbed me by the small of my back and closed the gap between us.

  I knew the look he was wearing. It had been a while, but I’d seen it once or twice.

  Desire.

  The way he moved his hips sent shivers up my spine. I hadn’t known he could dance. Didn’t know I was walking myself into a trap I wasn’t sure I wanted to escape.

  He grazed his hand down the side of my cheek as everything seemed to fall away. Time. Even the music disappeared. Heat wrapped around our bodies as we moved in sync to the rhythm, our bodies having a conversation without ever saying a word. The music found a home within my bones, its thrumming notes driving my movements.

  I watched as the lights moved around the room, cutting his face into light and dark angles, two sides of a moon, and I found myself doing without thinking.

  I touched his face.

  Smoothed my fingers over the stubble, enjoying when he closed his eyes as I did this. As if he’d been waiting for me to touch him this way forever. And maybe he had. And maybe I should stop because I knew just how much he wanted me. Ever since that night. Since that kiss.

  But I didn’t want to stop. I liked how close we were… maybe a little more than I should have. No matter the distance in time and in miles, we always found ourselves right back where we left off.

  The music cut off.

  I made a move to pull my hand away, but he grabbed it and held me in place, eyes locking on mine as we stood stone-still. He wanted to kiss me. It was in the tautness of his eyes and written all over his face. And I thought I might let him because even though the music had stopped, we were still swaying back and forth… and he was still looking at me like I was the only woman on earth.

  He leaned down, and my lungs quit working. Every nerve ending in my limbs was on fire with expectation. His lips were so close I could feel the heat of his breath. Near enough that mine began to tingle in sweet anticipation.

  “You up for a midnight swim?” Josh asked as his hand came down hard on Dean’s shoulders.

  I jumped back, the trance broken, as the blonde giggled and swayed a little off beat. She was one accidental bump from landing on her ass.

  Josh came around Dean and looked between us. “Wait, I wasn’t interrupting something, was I?”

  His smile faded.

  I wiped the sweat from my forehead, nerves bouncing in my stomach. “No. We were… we were just dancing.”

  Josh might have been drunk, but he wasn’t dull. “You two were about to kiss, weren’t you?”

  Dean’s face went rigid.

  Josh pulled his entire frame back. “What in the actual fuck, Andy? When I said you should let loose and have a little fun, I didn’t mean with my best friend,” he said, pushing me deeper into the hole I’d already dug for myself.

  Dean knotted his fingers and set them on the back of his neck, muttering under his breath.

  “And you,” Josh continued, looking at Dean as if he’d lost his mind. “What are you thinking? I told you. I made it clear. She’s my sister.” His glare was thick, slicing me in half. “I kid with you guys when it comes to flirting. I know how close you two are, but this…”

  He shook his head and grabbed the blonde by the hand, tugging her away from us, heat seeming to rise from his steps.

  If humiliation had a color, I was wearing it. I focused my gaze on the toe of Dean’s boot, wishing myself away from this moment.

  Buried deep are my sins,

  Under layers of longing and shame.

  “I’m going to grab a water. Want one?” I asked Dean.

  He nodded. I careened around him, wishing I’d just stayed home. Josh was right. I shouldn’t have even thought about kissing Dean. I had Charlie to think about. I couldn’t just fool around.

  For one small moment, I truly wanted to.

  I waited for the bartender to pour me two glasses and mentally slapped myself. What was I thinking? What if Josh hadn’t walked up? I’d told myself I’d flirt. That was it. Nothing more. But that wasn’t what happened, and now my brother knew it was more than innocent.

  I’d never hear the end of it.

  I had one and a half more weeks here. So did he. In my parents’ house where I grew up. Where I watched him grow up. I couldn’t fuck this up. Not like I did five years ago. The last thing I needed was to start something as complicated as a… well, I wouldn’t even know what to label it if I started sleeping with Dean. I had to stop it before it started. I had to make it clear. Otherwise, I wasn’t so sure I could keep myself in check.

  “You okay?” he asked from behind me. I jumped, spilling some of the water out of the cups as I turned to face him.

  His smile was kind and gentle.

  “I’m fine. Here.” I handed him his glass a little more forcefully than needed.

  He looked confused but took a sip. “You sure? You look a little upset.” He ran his hand up the back of his head, his shirt lifting high enough that his hipbone peeked out from the edge of his pants.

  I licked my lips.

  “I’ll make sure he understands that nothing happened,” he continued, his voice sweet and sincere. “We were just dancing, Andy. Don’t let Josh get to you. He’s an asshole. You know that better than anyone. He’ll find a problem even if there isn’t one.”

  I forced my eyes on his, but instantly wished I hadn’t. “But we weren’t just dancing,” I repeated, leaning close so only he could hear.

  His eyes blazed with the memory of how close we came to kissing. “Then what was it, Andy?”

  His voice was so deep I imagined diving into it, surrounded by soothing vibrations. I looked to his lips, staring longer than I should. Long enough for him to notice as I tried to remember what they felt like.

  Soft yet demanding.

  Strong.

  Tender.

  I forced myself to look away, and then I downed the glass of water as if it were the lifeline I needed to get myself out of this pickle. “I just…” I set my cup down and rubbed my forehead, trying to find the right words. “Nothing can happen, okay?”

  Creases formed between his eyebrows. “What can’t?”

  His words dared me to say what we both knew I didn’t mean.

  “That,” I said, pointing toward the near-empty dance floor. “The alcohol caught up to me. And the moment we had before Josh appeared, whatever you want to call it, it was nothing. It needs to stay as nothing, okay? Just like five years ago.”

  Hurt flashed within his gaze, and I wished I could recall the words. Even though I knew it was best, it was still a lie. An excuse I used to protect us.

  But witnessing how easily I could hurt him made me feel like I was doing the exact opposite.

  He didn’t say anything right away, leaving me to wonder what he was thinking. But then, finally, he said, “Okay,” with a slight shrug. After he finished his glass of water, he asked, “You going to swim with us?”

  My instant reaction was to say no. If tonight was some kind of test, I’d already failed. “I would, but I need to be up with Charlie in the morning before he leaves for camping.”

  “Oh, right.” He tried to hide his disappointment with an understanding smile, but it was unmistakable.

  Damn it, I thought, knowing what I was about to do was something I’d later kick myself for.

  “But,” I said w
ith a small sigh, watching his face light back up. “I guess I could for a little bit.”

  “That would be great, Andy. I’ll get us a cab,” he said before disappearing to find Josh.

  I palmed my forehead. What are you doing, Andy?

  Setting myself up for disaster, I was sure. It was what I was best at.

  I just hoped he could handle the fallout.

  11

  T R U T H S

  You told me to come find you,

  But still, you hid.

  I NEVER BACKED DOWN FROM a challenge.

  As a Thurston, it was embedded in my blood. When my older brother told me he could beat me in a game of flag football, I took him on, knowing my odds were low considering he was six years older and had been training four years longer. I knew I wasn’t going to win, but I fought with every damn inch of grit I had to prove that losing didn’t scare me. Being afraid scared me.

  He may have won that game, but I walked away with my chin up.

  But watching Andy as she stood near the entrance to the bar, staring off into space while chewing on her lip the way I’d seen her do too many times to count, I realized this was a challenge I’d met my match in.

  How could I make her see what was right in front of her? How could I get her back to that moment on the dance floor when the real Andy surfaced before Josh interrupted?

  “Josh,” I called out as our ride pulled up. I barely made out the driver past the stack of junk piled up in the passenger seat. I glanced at the phone, sure I’d ordered a car that could fit us all, because there was no way the girls would be able to sit comfortably without being squished. Especially not when Josh was hammered and barely able to hold himself up.

  Andy huffed and hurried over to Josh, who was sitting next to the blonde on a bale of hay. They leaned on each other, forming a pyramid while their chins grazed their chests beneath the buzzing neon lights.

  “Josh,” she said, shaking his shoulder a little.