On the Rocks, page 6
“Thank you for the compliment.” Lennon nodded. “You can come back sometime and have another drink.” Even as she extended the comment, she regretted it. Sure, she’d afterward served drinks to several of the women she’d slept with and kept it casual, but there was something different in Alex’s eyes. Maybe it was the fact that she just moved here and didn’t know anyone, or maybe it was the way she could so completely undo Lennon with a single touch. Whatever it was, Lennon knew she was playing with fire.
“I just might,” Alex said, smiling as she picked up one of the tacos on her plate. She brought it to her mouth but stopped before taking a bite. Lennon’s breath hitched as she watched Alex gently bite her lip and raise her eyes to meet Lennon’s stare. “Thanks for the offer,” she added, before biting into the soft tortilla.
Lennon struggled to pull her eyes away, remembering how those thick lips had felt on her own, on every inch of her body. Grant elbowed her, and she jerked her eyes forward to where Jake was setting plates in front of them.
“Thanks.” Her voice faltered, but she took a swig of her margarita to mask the sound.
“What do you do?” Grant asked, leaning over Lennon to face Alex.
Lennon wanted to elbow him this time, but she knew it would draw too much attention.
“I’m an artist.”
The answer was simple, yet complex. Lennon had so many questions. What medium? What subjects? Where did she sell her work? She bit the inside of her cheek, keeping her words at bay. It would only complicate the matter at hand to show the extent of her interest.
“Very cool!” Grant had taken over now, so she took the opportunity to eat. “What type of artist?” He was doing the heavy lifting to ease her curiosity. For that, she was grateful, even if he was prone to acting like the nosy big brother she’d never wanted.
Lennon watched Alex out of the corner of her eye. Alex’s eyes brightened and her smile grew. Her face lit up, and she leaned in, at once looking more comfortable in her new surroundings. “I paint mostly,” she said, playing with the corner of the bar napkin in front of her. “I draw and dabble a bit with jewelry making, but that’s just for fun. I’m fortunate enough to be able to make a living off my paintings.”
“Damn!” Grant whistled through his teeth. “That’s impressive. Are you, like, famous?”
“Hardly.” Alex laughed. “But I make a decent living and don’t have to be chained to an office all day.”
“Same,” he nodded, laughing as he cast a glance toward Lennon. “And I have a delightful boss,” he added with a wink to Alex before rolling his eyes.
“You’re an ass,” Lennon shot back, laughing.
“An ass who’s going to be late to work,” he said, pointing at the neon clock behind Jake’s head. “I hate to run. Great seeing you again, Alex. Bye, Jake.” He looked at Lennon and tapped her on the shoulder. “See you tonight.”
“See you later,” Lennon answered, wishing she’d paid more attention to the time.
“What’s that like?” she asked, turning her attention toward Alex, without a buffer now that Grant had left and Jake had busied himself cleaning the kitchen.
“What do you mean?”
“Just creating art all day,” she said, tilting her body toward Alex. “How often do you have to work?”
“That all depends on how much I need to survive,” Alex said. She glanced out toward the water and leaned back in her chair. “How much I make is directly related to how often I work.” She bit her lip, as if contemplating her answer. “I generally spend most of my early mornings and nights working on my projects. In the daytime, I like to explore, especially when I’m in a new place.” She opened her mouth to add something but shut it abruptly as if she had revealed too much.
“How much of the new place have you seen?” Lennon asked, crumpling her napkin and pushing her nearly untouched plate to the side. “I know you’ve been to the best bar and best taco stand”—she laughed and faked a tip of the hat at Jake who gave a playful bow to accept the compliment—“but have you seen much else?”
“I’ve explored a bit.” Alex looked out to the water wistfully. “There’s still a lot I haven’t seen. I’ve been drawn in by this.” She motioned out toward the emerald waters, where a kid on a stand-up paddleboard moved by in the distance. “I’ve been painting a lot lately, so between that and decorating my place, I haven’t been out and about too much.”
“Do you have to work tonight?” Lennon couldn’t stop the words from escaping her mouth.
Alex leaned back, a grin starting to form. “Are you asking me out?”
“N-no,” Lennon stammered, shaking her head. “I was asking if you wanted to take a tequila shot with me.”
Alex laughed. “In that case, I don’t have to work, and even if I did, I could paint while a little tipsed.”
“Tipsed?”
“It’s like tipsy, but a little looser and more relaxed. Like when you’re tipsy, you’re ready to party. When you’re tipsed, you’re ready to enjoy wherever the flow of the day takes you.”
“I like it,” Lennon said, laughing as she repeated the phrase again. “Okay, Jake,” she said, shifting in her seat. “Line ’em up.”
As Jake turned to pour the shots, Lennon watched Alex. She pegged her for late twenties, early thirties. She knew she could have asked, but she hadn’t and wouldn’t. It hadn’t mattered the other night, and it didn’t now.
Jake set the shots down in front of the women, and Lennon tapped her glass against Alex’s. “Cheers to new friendships”—Lennon made sure to stress the word to make her intentions clear—“and to your new beginning,” she toasted before downing the shot.
Alex followed suit, wincing as she set the glass back on the table.
“You okay?” Lennon eyed her cautiously.
“Yeah,” Alex said slowly. “I should probably take a bit of a walk, though. I’ve been sitting out here in the sun, and that was my second drink.”
“What would you say to me giving you the tour of Perdido Key?” Lennon offered. “We’ll get a water to go, and I’ll show you around to give you a dose of Southern hospitality.”
“Is that actually a thing?” Alex asked, narrowing her eyes in question.
“It is around here.” Lennon nodded. “At least if you go to the right people. There are still assholes, same as anywhere, though.”
“Fair enough.” Alex hopped off her barstool. “I’ll agree to the tour. I wouldn’t mind getting acquainted with a few more spots.”
* * *
Lennon looked around, assessing the ambiance of the water crashing into the shore next to their table and the brightly colored umbrellas dotting the driftwood deck and hoping she had chosen well for Alex’s first stop of the afternoon.
Lennon watched Alex from afar as she returned from her trip to the restroom. The artist was shifting in her seat, seemingly struggling to get comfortable, a move that looked so out of place with how confident she appeared at other times. Alex was playing with the straw in her drink, while her eyes darted to and from items on the menu. She was shaking her head and didn’t look overly pleased.
Damage in the house, she thought. But truth be told, it took damage to recognize damage. She sighed, shoving her hands into her pockets and strolling back to her spot. Alex Daniels was a walking contradiction, a beautiful conundrum, and despite everything, Lennon wanted to figure out what made her tick.
Chapter Six
The heavy air seemed to hold an aura of mystical potential. Alex closed her eyes, paying attention to the sounds of music from the band onstage as they mixed with the rhythmic crash of the nearby waves.
“You know, it kind of feels like paradise here,” she said after a moment.
“It really does,” Lennon said, smiling as she stood. “I was born and raised here, and the fact that it’s so serene is part of why I never left.”
“What do you like most about living here?” Their conversation had been easy, and once they settled into their booth at a dive bar a few blocks down from Lennon’s bar, all traces of awkwardness had dissipated.
“I love so many things,” Lennon said. “The beach is incredible. I love the mix of locals and tourists who drink at my bar every night and allow me to do what I enjoy. I have a chosen family full of great people.” She laughed. “I have real family here too, but they’re not so much in my day-to-day. Overall, it’s just a fun, laidback place to live.” She smiled at Alex, wondering if her answer summed up everything Alex wanted to know. She glanced toward the water. “The real question in determining whether or not you’ll like it here is you. Aside from drinking”— Lennon nodded at the cocktail in Alex’s hand—“what do you like to do?”
“I like a lot of things,” Alex said, brushing her long hair out of her face. Lennon stared at her as though she was hanging on every word. “I like being outdoors, dancing, singing karaoke, being on the water.”
“And painting women like one of your French girls, right?” Lennon waggled her eyebrows in jest, referencing the iconic line from Titanic. She laughed, and Alex joined in with her. When she stopped laughing, she settled into a smile. “You’ll like it here,” she assured Alex.
Sipping her fruity drink, Alex arched her back, releasing some of the tension she didn’t realize she’d been holding on to. She’d mostly been sipping water throughout the day, but the alcohol was taking effect, and Lennon’s blue eyes were like beacons of light in the darkness. She scooted back in the booth so she could pull her feet up under her and face Lennon. “I know you feel it too,” she said, toying with her straw. “The fact that we’re playing a dangerous game.”
“We don’t have to.” Lennon took a long drink of her whiskey and ginger before pushing it back. She ran her tongue along her lip and looked off into the distance before leveling her gaze with Alex. “The way I see it, as long as we’re clear on where we stand, we’ll be okay.”
Alex clasped her hands, considering the statement. Beside her Lennon shifted her weight and leaned forward.
“I’ll let you in on a secret,” she continued. “This town is small, and even though there seems to be an inordinate number of lesbians for the small population, it is small. That means we’re going to run into each other a lot. We can either decide to be friends or it can be awkward for the rest of your time here.”
“It has been awkward,” Alex said, nodding. “So damn awkward.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” Lennon smiled and signaled to the bartender to bring another round of drinks. “And since we’re here on a night out, I don’t see any reason we have to pretend we aren’t attracted to each other.”
“I’m not looking for anything,” Alex said, gripping the glass in her hand tighter. “I don’t want to get serious.”
“I don’t do serious, not right now,” Lennon answered, not giving Alex a chance to take it any further.
“What do you mean ‘not right now’?”
Lennon tapped her foot against the table rapidly and downed her drink. “I think it’s clear you got out of something recently, and, not going into any details, so did I. I think we’re in the clear for thinking now’s not a good time for anything serious. In fact, I don’t think I’m looking for anything at any point in the foreseeable future.”
“I know the feeling,” Alex said. She cast her eyes downward, warding off the memories.
“The thing is,” Lennon said, “my heart’s pretty fucked up. What’s your damage?”
Alex leaned back, both in awe and grateful for the boldness of the question. “You sure you’re ready for that?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Lennon nodded. “Might as well lay it all out there. We’ve established we’re just having a good time. No need to put that best foot forward, right?”
“I’ll spare you the details as well.” Alex looked down at her drink. Was she sparing Lennon? Or herself? “But long story short, I was supposed to be getting married in a couple of months, and now…I’m not.”
“Damage, indeed,” Lennon said, wincing. “How long have you been un-engaged?”
“Since a couple of weeks before I ran into you. And you?”
“I didn’t have a ring.” Lennon clenched her jaws, then continued. “It was serious, though, and it really sucked when it ended. I’ve been doing my own thing for a couple of months.” Her expression was unreadable as she cleared her throat, slapped her knees, and stood. “Want to dance?”
Alex leaned back in hesitation. It seemed to be a request from out of left field. Lennon smirked and stretched her hand toward Alex. Like a moth to a flame, Alex stood and took her hand, smiling at how easily it fit within her own. The soft skin of Lennon’s fingers ran over her palm, and she shivered, remembering the skill they possessed.
They hit the floor as a classic beach tune ended and, as if by some sick and twisted master design, the band started to play a slow song about lovers in the night. Without missing a beat, Lennon tangled her fingers through Alex’s and spun her around, drawing her back into a respectable but intimate embrace.
“Smooth.” Alex smiled despite her best efforts to keep a game face.
“I try.” Lennon took the lead in moving them around the floor, and Alex couldn’t help but notice the way she wasn’t trying to hide her smile any longer. Gone was the cool and aloof Lennon she had come to know and in her place was a woman lost in the power and poetry of their bodies moving together.
With every brush of their bodies against one another, Alex tensed. Her heart pounded as Lennon pulled her just inches from her face. Alex almost leaned down for a kiss, but as the music came to a close, Lennon spun her back around once more.
When the song transitioned to a faster one, Lennon took advantage of the momentarily quieter music. “I should warn you, I’m not much of a dancer to this”—she motioned to the amps—“but I’ll give it my best effort.”
“I think you’ll manage just fine,” Alex said, and as the beat intensified, she showed no hesitation intensifying her own moves. Lennon watched, her jaw dropping, as Alex moved her hips in perfect beat to the music and ran her fingers up and down Lennon’s arms, teasing her with gentle touches.
Lennon leaned her head back, her lust-filled smile stretching as she leaned in for a kiss. Passionate and slow, she moved her hips into Alex’s.
“You’re actually a pretty damn good dancer,” Alex said breathlessly, pulling away from the kiss.
“If this is dancing, then I was wrong,” Lennon said, laughing. “I love dancing.”
Alex smiled as Lennon’s lips trailed down to her neck. Her body quivered, and she fought the urge to moan as wetness collected between her legs.
As the song faded, Lennon took her hand and they walked back toward the table. Thankful for a moment to catch her breath and readjust the dress that now clung to her body in the dense humidity, she grabbed her water glass and chugged its contents.
“August is our hottest month,” Lennon said, letting go of Alex’s hand in order to grab her own water.
The phrase held multiple meanings, and it wasn’t lost on Alex. “What is it we’re doing?” she asked, having caught her breath. She wasn’t some schoolgirl in love who was going to get swept off her feet by a smooth-talking woman who asked her to dance.
“I think I’m dancing with a pretty woman and having a good time.” Lennon shrugged, grabbing her whiskey and ginger and taking a seat in the booth. “We already established boundaries, so there’s no reason we can’t have a little fun.”
Alex nodded, taking in the words as she sat. “I’m new in town. I might have a bit of fun with more than just you.”
“I hope you do,” Lennon said, holding eye contact as she raised her glass in the air in a playful toast. “To fun with whoever you want, whenever you want. That,” she said, taking a sip and tilting her head upward to savor the flavor, “is the essence of freedom.”
“To freedom,” Alex said, raising her glass in the air in response.
Emboldened and with independence coursing through her veins, Alex leaned over and kissed Lennon. Running her fingers through her curls, she deepened the kiss before pulling back smiling.
“Freedom tastes pretty sweet sometimes,” Lennon said, leaning back into the booth and laughing.
“That it does.” Alex looked her up and down. With her broad shoulders, full breasts, and muscular arms, Lennon looked as if she might have been an athlete at some point. Running her tongue along the back of her teeth, she savored the sight. She took a deep breath before blurting, “I’d like to paint you.”
“That could possibly be arranged.” Lennon cast her a sidelong glance, but nodded. “I’d like a cigar,” she said, standing and pointing at Alex to see if she wanted anything.
“Get your cigar,” Alex said, fishing through her purse and pulling out a pack of menthol cigarettes. “I have my own bad habits to stick to.”
Lennon laughed and left Alex alone for a moment with her cigarettes and her thoughts. The lines had been drawn, and that was supposed to mean she was safe—safe to explore, to laugh, to enjoy, to fuck, and to fuck others. She liked the possibilities, almost as much as she enjoyed Lennon’s company.
A friend with benefits. She’d seen it done. She’d even done it successfully. Besides, she was far too raw for it to cross any other lines. Thankfully Lennon seemed to be in the same boat.
She used the silver ashtray in front of her as a mirror and reapplied her lipstick. She heard Lennon approach before she saw her. She turned her attention upward, her body tightening as Lennon leaned down and grasped her hand, ushering her out of the building.
Out on the patio, Alex lit her cigarette and handed her lighter over to Lennon for her cigar. Taking a drag, she leaned into the wooden bench.
“What’s the next stop on the tour de Perdido?” she asked, looking down to where Lennon sat sprawled on the floor of the deck.
“I think it’s your turn to take me home,” Lennon said, making a smoke ring as she exhaled.
