A Love Letter to Whiskey
Page 41
“Ugh, don’t remind me. Lucky bitch.”
I laughed and Jenna smirked, clearly not ashamed in the slightest that she had the hots for my mom’s boyfriend. They’d been dating for almost a year now, and he was good for her — he was good for both of us. He helped me apply to grad schools out of state when I was terrified to leave, and I was forever thankful for that.
“I’m still mad at you, you know,” Jenna added. “Here I am finally coming back home and you’re leaving.”
“Maybe I’ll come back after grad school. Who knows.”
Jenna grumbled. “Just save me a spot in your bed, okay? And for the love of God, don’t become a Steelers’ fan.”
“That’s baseball, right?”
Jenna groaned just as Kristen rejoined us and I laughed, uncrossing my legs just to cross them the other way.
It felt good to laugh, to have fun. It’d taken me so long to get back into a headspace where I could laugh. Losing my dad had fucked with my head more than I thought it would, and it was only in the last year that I truly felt myself learning to let him go — to let the guilt go. I loved him, and that was okay. I was angry with him, and that was okay, too. But now, it was time to leave him here in Florida and find out who I was — who I could be — in a new city and state.
“Oh my God,” Jenna whispered, dropping her beer to the table and tugging on the belt loop of my jeans. She leaned in close, her eyes somewhere behind me. “Don’t look, but Jamie is here.”
“What?!” I whisper-screamed.
“Who?” Kristen asked simultaneously, cranking her neck in the same direction as Jenna. She told me not to look, but of course I didn’t listen — how could I? A ghost had just walked into the bar, and I had to see for myself. As soon as I spotted him, my heart jumped, and the hole I’d felt growing since the last time I’d seen him filled, warming my blood.
It had been three years. Or had it been just yesterday? I wasn’t sure. I felt both measurements of time, noting his differences but feeling his familiarity even from across the bar. In Scotland, you can only classify whiskey as Scotch once it’s been aged in casks for a minimum of three years. I realized it in that moment that Jamie was a young Scotch now, a blended whiskey promising experience and flavor. My mouth watered and, like a magnet, his eyes found mine just as the door swung closed behind him.
He was with a group of men, all dressed in suits, and one clapped him on the shoulder before nodding to the other end of the bar. He nodded, but didn’t follow as they made their way in that direction. Instead, he kept his focus on me, tilted his head as if he wasn’t sure I was actually there, and then he took the first step.
I inhaled, holding that breath as Jenna freaked out beside me and Kristen looked between all of us wondering what the hell was going on. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, and I drank him in like I was privileged to do so as he crossed the room. His tie was loosened around his neck, the sleeves of his light gray dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, but it wasn’t what he was wearing that kept my attention. It was his auburn hair, slightly darker than I remembered and styled carefully. His broad shoulders, fuller than the night I cried on them three years before. It was his jaw, still so square and set, now shadowed with just a hint of stubble. And his eyes, a deep amber, shaded with fire and tinged with both pain and curiosity as he stepped into the space right in front of me. He didn’t look like my Jamie, and yet I still saw him there, under the surface. I felt him, that vibration from his presence. His scent invaded next, spicier, but with the same notes of honey.
Finally, I let my breath go, slow and steady as it left my lungs.
I’d turned on my bar stool, legs still crossed and hands folded tightly in my lap, and he casually tucked his hands in the pockets of his dress pants as his eyes raked over me.
“You changed your hair,” he rasped, his nose flaring as his gaze made the leisurely ascent back to my face. I felt want radiating off him like a heat wave, and my skin slowly defrosted the longer he stood there. My hair was bigger now, longer — flowing down to the middle of my back in the same soft, small spirals I’d always had.
“And you got a tattoo,” I mused. I could see the edges of it peeking out from where his sleeve met his forearm, and he glanced down at it with a barely-there smirk before he looked at me again.
For a moment, we just stared, both smiling, both adjusting to the new buzz blending with the all-too-familiar one. Then, Jamie shook his head, and a grin split his face. “You have two seconds to get off that bar stool and into my arms before I drag you off it.”
I blushed with a smile that mirrored his, looking down at my heels before easily stepping down and closing the space between us. The moment our bodies met, his arms wrapping around my small frame and mine resting around his neck, we both sighed, and peace settled in just as the rest of the bar came back into focus again.
I suddenly heard the loud rawr of laughter from the group of guys he’d walked in with, and the commotion of glasses and ice behind the bar. I heard Jenna clear her throat behind us and listened as the pop song playing grew louder and louder. Still, Jamie just held me, and I squeezed him back.
“Oh hey Jamie, nice to see you, too,” Jenna finally chided. Jamie loosened his grip and I slid out of his arms, reaching for my beer but not taking my seat just yet.
“Hi Jenna,” Jamie replied, smiling at her briefly before turning his gaze back to me. “So, celebrating tonight?”
He flicked my grad cap and I groaned, embarrassed. “Yes. I got a piece of paper that says I’m great at pulling all nighters and regurgitating textbook notes.”
Jamie chuckled. “Congrats.”
“And she got into grad school,” Jenna added. “In Pittsburgh.”
“Pittsburgh?” Jamie repeated, eyebrows shooting up before he tilted his head. “What’s my surfer girl going to do in a city like that?”
My cheeks warmed and I picked at the label on my beer again, tilting it to my lips instead of answering.
“And you?” Jenna asked. Kristen was still just staring at us, asking me questions with her eyes that I only answered with a shrug. “What are you doing back in Florida?”
“I’m celebrating, too, actually. Passed my CPA exam and accepted a job offer from my dad.”
“Really?” I asked with a wide smile, pride I wasn’t sure I was allowed to feel surging through me. “Wow, that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.”
I laughed and Jenna smirked, clearly not ashamed in the slightest that she had the hots for my mom’s boyfriend. They’d been dating for almost a year now, and he was good for her — he was good for both of us. He helped me apply to grad schools out of state when I was terrified to leave, and I was forever thankful for that.
“I’m still mad at you, you know,” Jenna added. “Here I am finally coming back home and you’re leaving.”
“Maybe I’ll come back after grad school. Who knows.”
Jenna grumbled. “Just save me a spot in your bed, okay? And for the love of God, don’t become a Steelers’ fan.”
“That’s baseball, right?”
Jenna groaned just as Kristen rejoined us and I laughed, uncrossing my legs just to cross them the other way.
It felt good to laugh, to have fun. It’d taken me so long to get back into a headspace where I could laugh. Losing my dad had fucked with my head more than I thought it would, and it was only in the last year that I truly felt myself learning to let him go — to let the guilt go. I loved him, and that was okay. I was angry with him, and that was okay, too. But now, it was time to leave him here in Florida and find out who I was — who I could be — in a new city and state.
“Oh my God,” Jenna whispered, dropping her beer to the table and tugging on the belt loop of my jeans. She leaned in close, her eyes somewhere behind me. “Don’t look, but Jamie is here.”
“What?!” I whisper-screamed.
“Who?” Kristen asked simultaneously, cranking her neck in the same direction as Jenna. She told me not to look, but of course I didn’t listen — how could I? A ghost had just walked into the bar, and I had to see for myself. As soon as I spotted him, my heart jumped, and the hole I’d felt growing since the last time I’d seen him filled, warming my blood.
It had been three years. Or had it been just yesterday? I wasn’t sure. I felt both measurements of time, noting his differences but feeling his familiarity even from across the bar. In Scotland, you can only classify whiskey as Scotch once it’s been aged in casks for a minimum of three years. I realized it in that moment that Jamie was a young Scotch now, a blended whiskey promising experience and flavor. My mouth watered and, like a magnet, his eyes found mine just as the door swung closed behind him.
He was with a group of men, all dressed in suits, and one clapped him on the shoulder before nodding to the other end of the bar. He nodded, but didn’t follow as they made their way in that direction. Instead, he kept his focus on me, tilted his head as if he wasn’t sure I was actually there, and then he took the first step.
I inhaled, holding that breath as Jenna freaked out beside me and Kristen looked between all of us wondering what the hell was going on. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, and I drank him in like I was privileged to do so as he crossed the room. His tie was loosened around his neck, the sleeves of his light gray dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, but it wasn’t what he was wearing that kept my attention. It was his auburn hair, slightly darker than I remembered and styled carefully. His broad shoulders, fuller than the night I cried on them three years before. It was his jaw, still so square and set, now shadowed with just a hint of stubble. And his eyes, a deep amber, shaded with fire and tinged with both pain and curiosity as he stepped into the space right in front of me. He didn’t look like my Jamie, and yet I still saw him there, under the surface. I felt him, that vibration from his presence. His scent invaded next, spicier, but with the same notes of honey.
Finally, I let my breath go, slow and steady as it left my lungs.
I’d turned on my bar stool, legs still crossed and hands folded tightly in my lap, and he casually tucked his hands in the pockets of his dress pants as his eyes raked over me.
“You changed your hair,” he rasped, his nose flaring as his gaze made the leisurely ascent back to my face. I felt want radiating off him like a heat wave, and my skin slowly defrosted the longer he stood there. My hair was bigger now, longer — flowing down to the middle of my back in the same soft, small spirals I’d always had.
“And you got a tattoo,” I mused. I could see the edges of it peeking out from where his sleeve met his forearm, and he glanced down at it with a barely-there smirk before he looked at me again.
For a moment, we just stared, both smiling, both adjusting to the new buzz blending with the all-too-familiar one. Then, Jamie shook his head, and a grin split his face. “You have two seconds to get off that bar stool and into my arms before I drag you off it.”
I blushed with a smile that mirrored his, looking down at my heels before easily stepping down and closing the space between us. The moment our bodies met, his arms wrapping around my small frame and mine resting around his neck, we both sighed, and peace settled in just as the rest of the bar came back into focus again.
I suddenly heard the loud rawr of laughter from the group of guys he’d walked in with, and the commotion of glasses and ice behind the bar. I heard Jenna clear her throat behind us and listened as the pop song playing grew louder and louder. Still, Jamie just held me, and I squeezed him back.
“Oh hey Jamie, nice to see you, too,” Jenna finally chided. Jamie loosened his grip and I slid out of his arms, reaching for my beer but not taking my seat just yet.
“Hi Jenna,” Jamie replied, smiling at her briefly before turning his gaze back to me. “So, celebrating tonight?”
He flicked my grad cap and I groaned, embarrassed. “Yes. I got a piece of paper that says I’m great at pulling all nighters and regurgitating textbook notes.”
Jamie chuckled. “Congrats.”
“And she got into grad school,” Jenna added. “In Pittsburgh.”
“Pittsburgh?” Jamie repeated, eyebrows shooting up before he tilted his head. “What’s my surfer girl going to do in a city like that?”
My cheeks warmed and I picked at the label on my beer again, tilting it to my lips instead of answering.
“And you?” Jenna asked. Kristen was still just staring at us, asking me questions with her eyes that I only answered with a shrug. “What are you doing back in Florida?”
“I’m celebrating, too, actually. Passed my CPA exam and accepted a job offer from my dad.”
“Really?” I asked with a wide smile, pride I wasn’t sure I was allowed to feel surging through me. “Wow, that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.”
