Opposites Ignite by Sadira Stone (simple ebook reader .TXT) 📕

Rosie’s lip trembled. “What if it’s my fault, though? What if I blurted three stupid words way too soon?”

“Hey.” Lana squeezed her shoulder. “Number one, who’s to say you guys gotta follow a timetable? Number two, if you really mean it, saying ‘I love you’ isn’t stupid, it’s brave.”

Charlie took Rosie’s hand. “If he’s the right guy, he’ll do what it takes to hang onto you. If he doesn’t, then you can move on with a clear conscience. But you gotta give him a chance first.”

Rosie shook her head. “I don’t know. I keep coming back to how different we are. How could a strait-laced guy like Eddie and a wild child like me ever find our balance? Maybe the kindest thing to do is cut this off before we get hurt even more.”

“Hmmph.” Lana folded her arms. “Never thought my best friend would turn out to be such a chicken.”

Rosie threw up her hands. “Okay, okay! I’ll talk to him tonight after work. Now pass me a fuckin’ cookie.”

“That’s our girl.” Charlie slid the tray across the table. “Now, tell us about your new boss. Is she scary?”

Rosie crunched into a frosted chocolate sugar cookie with rainbow sprinkles. “She’s a total tattoo goddess. And the other two artists are women too. You know, I’d like to open a place like that someday. Just women artists. Customers won’t have to wade through macho bullshit.”

“Sign me up,” Anna chirped. “I want my baby’s name on my ankle. Or on my back?”

“Ankle hurts more.” Rosie’s glum mood lifted as her friends peppered her with questions about tattoos. There, at least, she knew what the hell she was doing. Maybe if she could keep her mind on work, this cloud of emotion would lift and let her see clearly again.

****

Under the pretense of checking supplies, Eddie ducked into Bangers’ storage room and pulled out his notebook again. Since his Sunday pep talk from the guys, he’d been adding to his list of Rosie’s fine qualities. Still stumped for hard evidence of his abject contrition, at least he had a list of things he found amazing about her.

His first draft was mostly filled with sensual details—the scent of her hair, the brush of her breath on his bare skin, the silky heft of her breasts, the hungry little moans she made when he kissed the inside of her thigh. But Rosie already knew she was a sex goddess. Any guy in the bar could tell her that. So he’d crossed those out and thought harder. Why was he so drawn to Rosie, so miserable without her? The more he pondered, the faster the ideas flowed: how she stood up to her family’s narrow expectations and blazed her own path, her amazing artistic talent, her loyalty to friends, her confidence, her persistence, her dazzling smile, her kindness to his pushy mom…

He’d memorized them all like lines in a play. All the same, he tucked his notebook in his pocket, just in case her presence left him tongue-tied. Tonight, after work, he’d plead his case.

Trouble was, Rosie was nearly half an hour late. With River gone, monitoring timecards was his responsibility. His texts had gone unanswered—no surprise there. Dawn hadn’t yet emerged from her office, but each minute that ticked by made it more likely she’d notice Rosie’s absence. He could clock her in and make excuses, but that would be a betrayal of Dawn’s trust. If he didn’t, he was betraying Rosie.

Stomach churning, he returned to the bar. Trivia Night wouldn’t start for another hour, but already the tables were filling up with thirsty customers. Laughter and conversation swelled over the bluesy wails from the speakers. Kiara was busy shaking up tonight’s drink special, the Bangers Brawl—a lemony twist on a mint julep made with rye from a local distiller. Lana and Charlie hustled trays of burgers and tots. Gus filled beer glasses, sloshing foam everywhere. Still no Rosie.

Eddie nudged the old guy’s shoulder. “Thanks, I’ll take over.”

Gus wiped his bulbous nose on his flannel sleeve. “Where’s yer girlfriend, kiddo?”

Damned if I know. Or if she’s even still my girlfriend.

Several minutes later, Rosie appeared at the server station, hair damp and disheveled, lips clamped in a thin line.

Eddie hurried to her. “Hey.” He kept his voice low. “What happened? You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Avoiding his gaze, she snatched a stack of cocktail napkins for her tray.

“You’re late, though.”

“Not my fault. I got here as fast as I could.” Glowering, she adjusted the waist tie on her apron.

He peered closer. Her hands were shaking—with fury? At him?

“Come on, Rosie. I’m just trying to do my job here.”

If looks could kill, he’d be a pile of smoldering ash. Through clenched jaws, she snapped, “I said. It wasn’t. My fault.”

“Whoa now.” Dawn stepped up behind Rosie, her voice low and lethal. “What did I tell you two about relationship drama at work?”

Rosie sucked in a shaky breath and faced the boss. “I was just explaining to Eddie why I was late.”

He spread his hands. “You didn’t explain anything. You just—”

Jojo interrupted. “Someone to see you, Rosie.” He pointed to the front door where a uniformed cop waited.

Rosie shot Eddie another glare over her shoulder as he trailed her through the crowd.

The cop held up her phone, its screen spiderwebbed with cracks. “Found it under that bozo’s front tire.”

Dawn joined them. “Problem, officer?”

The cop tipped his cap. “No problem, ma’am. Just returning Miss Rosie’s phone.”

“How’d it get broken?” Dawn asked.

“Nasty fender bender up by Taco Bell. Guy ran a red light.”

Eddie’s throat constricted. Here he was, jumping to conclusions like some paranoid jackrabbit, when the woman he loved was still shaking from a car crash. He clasped her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

She squeezed her eyes closed and nodded. “But my car’s not.”

“Fortunately, the guy who hit her has insurance.” The cop pulled a card from his pocket and scribbled something on the back. “My cousin’s body shop, down on South Tacoma Way.