Page 5 of Raff
She was recently twenty-one, with all the pretty and pep that meant she was making a pretty penny slinging drinks, even in this small town.
Casey was short and curvy in that compact way that made you think of cheerleaders—great boobs, hips, and thighs, but a slim waist—with long golden hair and these big gray eyes that made her look doe-like. The guys ate it up. She raked it in. It worked for everyone.
“Did you get any sleep last night?” she asked as she passed the drinks to two men who looked disappointed that her focus was elsewhere.
I’d barely slept in weeks.
“I think the heat is getting to me,” I told her. It wasn’t a lie. The air was barely working in my room. I tossed and turned, even with a high-powered fan blowing on me.
“This heatwave has been intense,” Casey agreed. “I had to stop running and start going to the gym. I hate it.”
I grabbed the pot of coffee, pouring some into my mug, then adding a little soy milk and a sweetener packet—just enough to take out the bitter.
I’d been a devoted Pilates and spin girl for the past several years. Now, I did at-home workouts I found for free online.
Another sacrifice.
Another loss of something that brought me joy.
I shook those thoughts away.
This was temporary.
I wasn’t going to be living this way forever.
That was the point of all the extra work I was doing after I left the pub each day: to get my lifestyle back.
“And there’s no end in sight,” I said, shaking my head. “Though I’ll take our dry heat over the humidity any day.”
“Oh, God. I went to Florida for spring break my senior year. My hair was five times its normal size. I lived in the pool every moment I could.”
My recent trip to Florida had not involved a pool. Or much air conditioning at all. It had been a sweaty, miserable trip. Though a lot of the misery had nothing to do with the humidity and everything to do with why I was there. And how I didn’t get the results I wanted.
“Do my eyes deceive me?” a familiar voice called, making my eyes roll even as my lips tugged upward. “Or is that the lovely Lula Lane I see?”
“How did you learn my middle name, you creep?” I asked, turning toward the voice to find Raff sitting at the bar, his elbow on the surface, his chin propped in his hand as he watched me.
“I may have extracted that information from your cousin when he had one too many drinks one night.”
“What next? My shoe size?” I asked, sipping my coffee.
Raff popped up, leaning over the bar, then glancing down at my feet.
“Eight… and a half.”
“That might be impressive if I didn’t know you came by that skill because of how many women you’ve undressed.”
“Are you… calling me a slut?” he asked, pressing a hand to his heart.
“Only because it’s an accurate descriptor.”
“I’d give it all up for you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’ve been saying that for years. And yet, I will see you leave with half a dozen young women in a few hours.”
“Baby girl, I’d follow you like a dog if you invited me home.”
What home?
