Page 34 of Salvation (Clover-Hills #1)

Blake

I stand in front of my old wooden mirror and do a little spin to make sure I’m comfortable.

There’s nothing I hate more than going out in something that makes me feel like I’m not even wearing my own skin.

More than not, I’d wear only specific dresses Marshall had picked out.

One he deemed acceptable for whatever lavish occasion we had planned that night.

At first, it was sweet. Cute, even. But over time, it was a bit exhausting being told I couldn’t wear the new skirt I had bought myself or the chunky boots I was obsessed with the minute I spotted them at the thrift store.

Now, I see that behavior for what it truly was.

Marshall didn’t want people to sample what he had, even though he could gorge on others himself.

Literally.

I’m more than comfortable tonight, though, and a little smile lights up my face because I’m positively glowing.

I haven’t felt or looked this good in a long time.

I’m thankful that my thigh is better, and it didn’t end up ruining going out.

I typically wear little makeup, but tonight was clearly an exception.

I spent extra time doing my face. A bronzy eyeshadow that makes my eyes pop and a soft peach lip color that makes them look full and glossy.

My blonde curls are blown out to frame my face.

A little cropped, black vest top that makes the girls look perfect, a jean mini skirt, and black booties to match.

I don’t dress up often, not anymore, but god, do I love it when I do.

Look good, feel good, and all.

Before I can stare too long and possibly convince myself to change, a knock rings out from the front door.

I yell, “Coming!” and after a few seconds, I whip open the door, shocked to find Elain standing there, nervously twisting her fingers and peering up at me from beneath her hoodie.

I crane my neck to check the clock on the wall behind me. “Did you walk here?”

“Rode a bike.” She hikes a finger over her shoulder where a bright green bike leans against a tree trunk.

“Your bike?”

“Do you really want to know?”

Jesus. I look to the ceiling and draw in a long breath before looking back down at her. “No. I can’t bail you out if I’m privy to the crime.”

She smirks, but it falters just a smidge when she looks over my outfit. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were going somewhere.”

“Karaoke is tonight.” I open the door wider and motion for her to step in. “Come in.” As I close the door with a click, I turn around and find her sitting on the couch with her hands tucked beneath her legs. “Everything okay?”

“Can I stay the night?”

I nod. No hesitation. “You’re always welcome here, Elain.”

“Did you want to talk about it?”

“Not tonight.” She avoids any eye contact, but I shrug.

“Okay. Well, I’m going to the bar. You want to tag along?”

Her eyes light up. “Can I really?”

I almost laugh. Not much will bring a smile to her face, but the little things always tend to. “Yes, just don’t even think about trying to talk me into getting you drunk. It’s not happening.”

She giggles but jumps up from her seat on the couch. “Let’s go.”

***

When we get there, the night is already vibrating with life. Music blasts, and people are talking, laughing, and drinking. It’s the busiest I’ve seen it since I’ve moved back.

“I’m gonna grab a soda.” Elain shouts over the music. I nod my head. It’s not like the bar is very big, so I’m not worried about her getting lost.

“I’ll join you in just a sec. Gonna look for Whitney and Harper.” She shoots me a thumbs up before spinning around and weaving through the crowd. Just as she disappears, a deep voice sneaks up behind me.

“You followin’ me?” I turn to find the man from the coffee shop behind me, two beers in his hands and a teasing grin on his face. Haden, I guess his name is.

I cock my head. “Kinda feels like you might be following me.”

He pushes one of the beers towards me and whistles as he takes in my look. “Lookin’ mighty fine tonight, Ms. Warner.”

My brows raise as I take the bottle. “Funny. I don’t remember giving you my name.”

God, please tell me I do not have a stalker on my hands.

He laughs like he can read my thoughts. "Turns out we have a lot of the same friends."

I nod along, just watching him. This flirting, I’ve done this flirting before.

The kind that turns into a one-night stand or fling.

When it’s clear that it’ll be nothing more than a physical connection.

Before I can finish my thought, a large presence pushes against me.

So close, too close, that I can feel his chest brushing against my loose curls.

Goosebumps and a thrill I can’t place rushes through my blood.

Something earthy floods my nostrils, and I know immediately who it is.

Haden’s eyes catch on the man behind me, and a teasing grin pulls at his cheeks.

“Wesley,” He greets. “I was just asking Blake here if she wanted to dance with me.”

I don’t turn around to greet him. I see that glint in Haden’s eyes as he looks back down at me. The teasing. As handsome as he is and as fun as the banter may be, I won’t be someone he uses to get a rile out of another man. We aren’t twelve. So, I reach over and pat Haden on the shoulder.

“As flattering as that is, I’m not sure you could keep up,” I say with a grin. “But thanks for the drink.”

I give the beer a little wiggle in front of his face before turning away, effectively dismissing him – only to be met with a smug look stretched across Wesley’s face.

He looks down to take me in. For just a moment, I swear his eyes darken, and he’s merciless in the way he lets his eyes roam over my body. When they snag on my cleavage and linger there, I can't fight the way my thighs squeeze together.

"At least he was right about one thing. You do look pretty damn good tonight, sweetheart.” Wesley says gently, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as his eyes slowly make their way back up to mine.

Even in the dim lighting, his eyes are so blue they send a shock of warmth throughout my body, and my face heats at the fact that those eyes are locked solely on me. Not on anyone else in this room. "Just tonight?” I ask, breathless.

He licks his lips. “You always look good, Blake.”

That movement has me remembering exactly how our last encounter with each other went.

How he almost kissed me. I won’t lie and say I didn’t want it to happen, but it was a moment of weakness for us both, one I know we can, and will never act on.

It’s just too damn complicated if we do.

I don’t respond, so breathless and brainless in his presence, it’s nearly impossible.

So, he just chooses to look around the room before saying, “I suppose I should thank you for this idea. Haven’t been this packed in a while. ”

I watch the crowd. The door that’s propped open. The loud noise spilling in and out. Some people coming and going. The entire bar is alive tonight. The entire street. I shake my head. “This is all you, Wesley. Your father would be proud.”

I know I’m right. As I watch the bar and the crowd with him, it’s easy to know how happy Ben would be at the sight.

He always wanted the bar to be a space where people could come together.

Where this town could come together. I turn back to find him watching me.

A glint in his eye that’s sad? Happy? I can’t tell. Never can with him.

“Do you regret leaving?” He asks me. It may sound like a random question, but I know what he’s asking. The atmosphere, the people, the simple life. Still, it hits something in my chest.

“Every day.” I whisper back. Despite all the noise, I know he can hear me. Only me in this crowded bar.

I pull in a long breath as I fully turn my body back towards his and stand a little taller, looking up at him below lowered lashes.

I haven’t even sipped my beer yet, but something about this moment makes me feel a little braver than I usually do.

“I know…I know things aren’t the same. Maybe they never will be.

You want answers that I don’t know how to give you.

And you have every right to hate me for it.

But I think it’s safe to say there’s no way to avoid each other in this town.

I - let’s start over. I’m willing to if you are. We can be...friends.”

Friends. The word makes me want to throw something, but I don’t let him see that. Wesley and I could never just be friends . I’m not stupid enough to truly think so. But we can damn well try. He runs his tongue along his teeth and nods. “Friends?”

I hum in agreement. “As long as you promise not to do that caveman shit again.” I hike a finger over my shoulder, so he understands who I’m talking about him being a caveman with.

That evokes a laugh from him. “Caveman shit?”

I dip my head in agreement, a smile tugging at my lips, and stick out my hand like we’re striking a deal. “What do you say?” He takes it and steps in a little closer. He speaks just loud enough so that only we can hear.

“Friends it is then.”