Page 29 of One Last Thing Before You Go

She’s so fucking beautiful.

“I’m just gonna go ahead and put it here for a sec,” she says, setting it far from me.

“Sad.” I pout, which makes her laugh in earnest, coming from deep within her. It lights up her tired eyes, flushes her tan skin, and makes me want to kiss her so badly I want to die. “You’re amazing.” And I know we agreed to let these things go and I know we agreed to just be partners, but the words burst through me, a complete inevitability.

“You’re drunk. And a mess.” She tsks and runs her fingers through my hair, combing through. I close my eyes in bliss, leaning into her touch.

“Nah. Just tipsy. Tired.” Of this achy feeling in my chest. Of thinking I’ll never get to touch you again. Of rubbing myself raw every night to the memory of you beneath me…

“Why don’t you head on up to bed?”

I shoot her a lascivious smile, but she rolls her eyes with a laugh. “I meant by yourself.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Seriously. People are starting to leave anyway, so it’s not a big deal. Jenn and I will clean up.”

I scoff. “I’m not gonna let you guys do this all on your own.” I push off the wall, but stumble a little. “Whoa.”

“Okay, buddy.” She steadies me with a grip around my bicep. Holds me still. “Let’s get some water and coffee in you. I think you may have had a little more to drink than you think you did.”

Lottie drags me through the crowd into the office, sits me down in my father’s chair while she makes me a cup of coffee. My eyes never leave her as she moves, as she unknowingly turns serving a hot beverage into a beautiful performance.

“Here. Drink this.” She hands me the hot cup, the one I’ve been using since getting here, and smile up at her in thanks.

Gaze locked on hers, I take a long, comforting drink. A warm feeling spreads through me, and I don’t think it’s the coffee that’s responsible for it.

Lottie takes a seat across from me, watching patiently as I drink.

“Feel better?” she asks when I finish.

“Some. I guess I did have one drink too many.”

She shrugs. “It’s okay. It was a celebration. Did you get to meet any interesting people?”

I smile, remembering the slew of characters this town came with. “Yes, many. Though one in particular stood out.”

“Oh, yeah? Who’s that?” She raises a brow, looking at me with those dark brown eyes through her messy bangs.

“Jenn’s grandmother? She was…”

“Intense?” A broad smile spreads across her face.

“I’d say ‘uncomfortably insightful,’ but intense is good.” We laugh softly and I tell her about my interaction, without volunteering how unsettled I felt afterward.

“She’s a character.”

“What about you? Did you end up having fun at the party?”

She smiles before taking a sip of her own coffee. “Yeah. It was nice to see everyone there, supporting the store, sharing stories about it, placing bets on what will take its place. It was also nice to see how Walter became such a huge part of our community even though he was here for around nine years. That was sweet.”

I frown, a twinge of jealousy I can’t quite understand knotting itself in my stomach. “That’s nice.” I try for my best smile, struggling a bit. “Though I don’t think it was all about him or even the bookstore. You’re not giving yourself enough credit. I could tell by your interactions how adored you are here.” And who could blame them? She’s heaven.

Lottie looks momentarily taken aback, surprised by my assessment. “No, I think you’re confused. Sure, I get along with the town, but⁠—”

“Lottie,” I start, shaking my head. Does she not realize how amazing she is? “These people admire you; they think the world of you. It’s clear in every word they speak when talking about Lottie Veracruz.”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”