Cerise's bottom lip was pinched between her teeth as she pushed through the heavy door. The bar's dim lighting and low hum of its patrons enveloped her as she paused in the entryway, scanning around the large room for familiar faces.
As if on cue, an excited voice shouted from the bar counter, followed by a whistle, "She made it! C'mere, girl!"
She instantly turned her attention to the stools at the bar once the voice reached her. In the following milliseconds of setting eyes on her friends, Cerise witnessed the fair-skinned man who shouted at her wince, then clutch the back of his head after the curly-haired woman next to him roughly smacked it.
Cerise rolled her eyes with a smile, walking towards the empty stool beside the pair at the counter. When she was in range, she picked up on the chastising tone of the most boisterous of the two:
"You thick-skulled idiot," Kenzie hissed as she shook out her hand, "She's not a fuckin' border collie, Damien. This is why she doesn't come out with us!"
The assaulted man cowered away, still rubbing his head with tears in his eyes, "I'm sorry... Jesus."
"You guys seriously make me miss my friends from my last job," Cerise said, smiling as she sat, feeling a surge of nostalgia. "I think I've heard this exact conversation before."
Not that she didn't still visit the parlor often, or hang out with them anymore.
"I'm not sure you're supposed to say that to your new work friends," Kenzie emphasized, honing in on her next.
"Oh," Cerise pursed her lips, "...Thanks for inviting me?"
"There we go!" the woman cheered, "You're welcome! And I'm so glad you came, sunshine!"
Cerise couldn't help raising an eyebrow at the woman's sky-high energy as Kenzie leaned over the bar to wave over the bartender.
"Geez... I didn't think I was that late," she mumbled to Damien over Kenzie's back.
"Got here half an hour ago," he shook his head, looking as if he were ready to go home already, "She's just insane."
Cerise's brows lifted at the tidbit. She drew a breath to speak, but—
"What can I get you, beautiful?"
Looking forward, Cerise found the bartender before her now, an older black man with kind eyes.
She smiled at the compliment, but not having a drink already in mind, she ended up stammering a bit as she tried to think of what she wanted.
The bartender leaned in slightly, resting his forearms on the polished wood with an easy, knowing smile.
"Oh no," he said slowly, shaking his head with mock solemnity as he studied Cerise, "She's at a bar, 'n she doesn't even drink like that."
Cerise let out a small, embarrassed laugh, glancing down at the drink menu she'd barely had time to look at, "Guilty. Not a fan of the taste..."
Samuel—his name tag glinted under the low lights—chuckled low in his throat, the sound warm like he'd heard every version of this confession and still found it charming.
He tapped the bar once, appearing decisive, "Tell you what... You look like you miss the summer. Ever had a Malibu Bay Breeze?"
She shook her head, and with that, he was off to make it. With a soft sigh, she relaxed back in her seat.
The hard part was over.
That was until Damien reminded her that there was an invisible spotlight on her at the moment:
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Please, with a Cherry on top? | 18+
Romance"Tell me you don't want that," his darkened eyes clashed with her dazed ones, "Say it, and we'll stop right now. Tell me, and I'll go." Silence hung in the air, the distant hum of passing cars and crickets fading into the night. "Cause I have every...
