Page 135 of Thirst For Me
When no one’s looking, I sneak away to the cider house, seeking a moment alone and a stiff drink.
But when I slip inside, I’m not alone.
There’s a man behind the bar, plucking a bottle of Sea Haven’s award-winning violet gin from a shelf.
A man I’ve known forever, but have tried so hard to forget.
Jace Crofton.
My brother’s best friend.
He’s dressed in a fine navy-blue suit and sage-green tie instead of his usual motorcycle jacket and jeans, his normally shadowed jawline shaved clean, and his thick dark hair is neatly tamed into place. He looks different, but the same.
It’s always the same, every time I see him, the way my heart pounds and my insides generally freak out.
I consider backing right out of there.
But too late.
He sees me, and a charming smile transforms his features, taking them from handsome toDear god, please help me.
“Haven,” he says in that rough, sexy voice I hear sometimes in my dreams. I mean, my nightmares. “Get your ass in here, girl.”
Ugh.Shivers.I get full-body shivers when he says my name.
This was not supposed to happen. Ending up alone with Jace is never a good idea.
Running into Jace in public is uncomfortable enough. I said a quick hello to him yesterday at the rehearsal dinner to get it over with and managed to painstakingly avoid him for the rest of the night, and again all day today, even though we’re both in the wedding party.
I wasn’t supposed to have to talk to him again, if at all, until maybe tonight,ifI run into him at the reception and have to make nice in front of others. Maybe then I’ll at least be drunk.
What the hell am I supposed to say to him sober?
“Caught stealing, huh?” I let the door close behind me. “I guess some things never change.”
He kind of snorts, surprised. “Pretty sure Mason won’t have me locked up. Tommy, maybe.”
I let a small smile slip. “Oh, if Grandpa finds you in here, you’re dead.”
“Then let’s not tell him.”
The conspiratorial look he gives me makes my toes curl.
He sets the bottle of gin on the bar. “How about you?”
“I won’t call the cops. Too much effort.”
“I meant, do you want a drink.” He says it like it’s a given, placing two shot glasses next to the gin.
I sigh. “Yeah. Guilty.”
He smiles like I’ve just made his day.
Please don’t do that. It makes me weak.
His dark eyes roam over me as I approach the bar in my sage-green bridesmaid’s dress, and I wonder what he sees. I thought I’d be so different by the time I saw him again. But every time we run into each other, no matter how much time has passed, I still feel like the same teenage girl who left this place all those years ago.
Yeah. Some things never fucking change.
