Page 15 of Good For Me

The sound that comes from my mouth is an awful lot like a giggle. And what the fuck is up with that? I do not giggle.

“Are you saying I dragged you here against your will?”

I pick up my excellent burger and smile at him. “I’m just here for the food.”

He tries to keep the scowl on his face but I can see the way he’s fighting the upturn of his lips. This shouldn’t be so fun. We’re just eating a hamburger on the patio of a kitschy bar. But I can’t remember the last time I felt quite so light and easy. And considering the way my day started, that’s really saying something.

“Good evening,” one of the musicians calls over the microphone, and we both shift our bodies toward the stage. “This is going to be our last set of the night, but we want to thank you for being such a great crowd for the last few hours.”

The other patrons clap and cheer enthusiastically. Apparently, the fiddle guys have been playing for a while because everyone on this patio seems excited for them to start up again.

I don’t have high hopes. Fiddle music? Seriously? But a few seconds after the drummer counts them in, the appeal becomes more understandable. They’re good. This might not be my preferred type of music, but they’rereallygood. They kind of have a rock/bluegrass/old school country vibe going, the music much more fast paced than I would have expected, and the guys in the band move with seemingly limitless energy.

“I told you so,” River calls to me over the music.

I roll my eyes, but I don’t contradict them. Listening to these guys isn’t the worst way to spend an evening. The guy with the fiddle is particularly impressive. His bow is moving so quickly across his instrument that I’m surprised I can’t see smoke coming from the strings.

It’s not until the song is nearly finished that I look over and realize River’s eyes are on me, not the stage. He’s staring at me the exact same way I’ve seen at the bar so many times before. It’s an expression that has always made my stomach feel as flippy as if I’m on a rollercoaster. I’ve fought my reaction to those stares, knowing I didn’t want to go down that road with him. But it’s hard to fight it now, sitting on this happy, brightly lit patio, good food in my belly, a cold beer in my hands, listening to a surprisingly amazing band kill it on their instruments.

Maybe that’s why I don’t even hesitate when the music slows down and River holds out a hand. The dance floor has been full since the band started up, but River seemed content to sit and watch. Until now, apparently. He takes my hand in his and hauls me to my feet and I don’t even begin to object. And when he gently tugs me into his arms, I allow my cheek to rest against his chest, relishing the sharp intake of his breath at the contact.

“This really is not what I was expecting tonight,” I murmur, feeling his soft chuckle vibrating through his chest.

“Let me guess—you were hoping for fewer neon palm tree paintings?”

I snort. “Actually, I figured you were going to take me somewhere to get completely trashed.”

He pulls back enough to look down at me, and man, I like how tall he is. Tall has never been a requirement for me. Kurt was only two or three inches taller than me, and it never bothered me—except when he insisted I wear flats to formal occasions. But there’s something really nice about the long line of River’s body, the lanky frame that holds surprisingly solid muscles. I have to tip my head way back to see his face and I feel like I could curl up in these long arms for hours.

“We could do that,” he murmurs in that soft, husky voice I’ve only heard from him tonight. It’s so different from his normal bright, life-of-the-party tones. For a second, I think he’s read my mind and he’s telling me I could hang out in his arms all night until he speaks again and I remember what I said about getting trashed.

“We could go to some shit downtown bar and do shots until last call. We could find a loud club in West Hollywood and drink overpriced cocktails until we can’t feel our faces.” He shrugs. “But you seemed sad. And this is where I like to go when I’m sad.”

“Why?”

He seems to think about that for a long moment. “There’s no pressure here,” he finally murmurs. “I can just…be. All of the regulars already know my family and they don’t give a shit. Some of the staff have been here since I was a kid.” He grins. “Besides. Look at this place. It’s impossible not to have fun here.”

“Iamhaving fun,” I say, surprising myself. “Thank you for bringing me.”

His resulting grin is so bright it nearly takes my breath away. “I’m glad. I think you need some more fun in your life, Jas.”

That gives me pause. If I’m honest with myself, I’ve been actively avoiding fun for the last few years. It just seemed easier to keep things together that way. I can’t go back to the way things used to be—the days when my wild teenage antics nearly drove my grandfather to the loony bin. Turning my life around was the thing that made him most proud of me, and after he was gone, I was determined to stay on that same path.

So gone were the days of raves with my friends. Gone were the days of dancing until dawn, of spontaneous road trips, of crazy decisions just for the fun of it. Gone were the days of living without fear.

After he was gone, I needed stability more than fun. I needed steadiness. I needed to make good choices. So that’s exactly what I did.

But now it all seems pointless. I dated the right guy and look what happened. I followed the right career path and now I spend every day bored out of my mind in my classes. Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life? All of a sudden it feels like I’m hurtling down a path I can’t control and that scares the shit out of me.

You could just have one night of fun,I think to myself as I tighten my arms around River’s middle. One night of not thinking or worrying. And then tomorrow I’ll wake up and do the books for my uncle. I’ll stop in at the diner and make sure they don’t need anything. I’ll study for my next exam. I’ll get back on track.

I can take a night off without the world ending,I decide.

So the next time River Ransome looks down at me with that easy smile on his face, I rise up on my tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his lips. From the tiny groan I feel emanating from deep in his throat, I know he wants this too. I know this isn’t going to end with one dance, one kiss.

Tonight, for once, I’m going to throw caution to the wind and do exactly what I want. I’m going to have some of that fun River mentioned. I’m going tolive.

My plan will still be there in the morning.