1
"So... what now?" She asked the question that lingered in the air between them, hovering above their beer glasses amidst the low hum of the conversation in the bar. The duet was over; the dream came true. Yet, here he was before her, eyes staring straight into the mirror behind the bartender, without a word to spare. Hot and cold, that was the way he always was with her. "Beau..."
"Just, just give it a minute, Chiles."
He gestured to the bartender for another, but she pulled his arm back down. "You can have mine. I don't feel much like celebratin' anymore." He sighed and took a swig, tasting the bitter local brew against his tongue. "I know I shouldn't have come... that I waited too long and I have no right to just show up. This past year, it's been-" He chuckled. "Please don't laugh at me right now."
He shook his head. "You just never know when to shut up, do you?"
She felt her face grow red with anger and she nearly sputtered with indignity. "How dare-"
And he pulled her in for a kiss, deep and hungry, with a large hand behind her head, the brim of his hat pushed against her forehead. "Really, be quiet," he murmured against her lips. "You're ruinin' the moment."
The crisp night air welcomed them as they walked to his truck. "Give me the keys." Her palm laid flat before him, but all he could do was stare at the way the soft yellow light spread on her hair, highlighting the chestnut hue. "You're in no condition to drive, mister."
"Don't be stupid." He smiled at the way the light bounced off her eyes when she tilted her chin up. She always used to look up through her eyelashes instead, shy and unsure. Something was different about her. Something changed in the last year.
"You don't even know where I'm staying."
"There's only one hotel in town."
"Maybe I'm staying at some guy's house." His lazy smile drooped a little at one corner and his quiet eyes stared her down. "Give me the keys, Beau."
He felt the world fall behind him as the wall he was leaning against opened up and gravity took its hold. "Beau!" He heard a faint squeak. She was here. She was still here. He cupped her cheek as he stumbled out of the bench seat, two unstable feet on the ground. His kiss was thorough as he allowed his weight to fall against her with her back to the side of his truck bed, his tongue sliding across the velvet of her mouth.
She pushed herself off and sent the two tumbling several steps out of the parking lot. He chased her in the dark, catching her and stealing a kiss every few yards. Up the stairs. Down the hallway.
Room 268. He felt the imprint of the number in his palm as he pressed against the door, attached to her at the lips while she tried to put the key in the lock with trembling hands and love drunk eyes.