Love and Lies (Small Town Secrets Book 1) by Jade C. Jamison

Author:Jade C. Jamison [Jamison, Jade C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-02T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

A while later, we were next door at Shooters, a sports bar. But we weren’t there for the widescreen TVs playing baseball and minor league football games.

We were there for pool.

It wasn’t a game I was good at—not that I cared. I was there for the company. Luckily for us, the bar wasn’t even half full. That didn’t surprise me, considering it was a weeknight. Scott took my hand, sending a shiver up my spine, but he wasn’t leading me toward the pool table.

Instead, we were heading toward the jukebox.

“We need some music first.” While he was fishing change out of his pocket, I noticed the tattoo with writing peeking out from under his sleeve. I lifted it so I could read the plain black script: Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

“Is that how that quote goes?”

“Yeah. The guy’s name was George something. A philosopher.”

“So why’d you have it inked on your arm?”

He dropped a couple of quarters into the machine, grinning. “‘Cause I’m one of those fucking idiots who forget and repeat the past. So it’s kind of like a string around the finger, only a lot more permanent.”

“Not a bad idea, though.” I hadn’t removed my hand from his arm. His skin was smooth but firm beneath my fingers, and the letters alone were art. Inspired, I silently assured myself I could try my hand at coming up with some tattoo art. How cool would that be to have someone like Scott wearing my art permanently? God, that idea made me hot.

“I need all the help I can get.” He plunked a few more quarters in the slot.

When I finally let his sleeve drop and looked up at him, I could tell it was pretty evident where my mind was going. His lips were parted, his eyes dark, but he was still caught up in whatever he’d been thinking about from his past—and I wondered what his words meant. Before I could ask, he said, “This song right here is one of my new favorites.” And then he winked.

It was bait and I bit, looking down to see he’d chosen Lamb of God’s “Set to Fail,” a song I’d last heard on the brink of orgasm. I felt a foolish grin threaten to cover my face. Was I blushing—or just feeling warm?

“Your turn. You pick.”

I chose another Lamb of God song, “In Your Words,” another one we’d listened to that night. And when he picked Slipknot’s “Psychosocial,” I chose “Duality.” When he punched in a number for an Ozzy tune, I picked Avenged Sevenfold. Him? Old school Asking Alexandria. Me? New school Bullet for My Valentine.

And so on until we’d used up the money.

As we turned to survey the pool tables, Scott said, “Definitely hope for you yet, Casey.” There were two guys in the corner playing pool, but the other tables were free, so we wound up taking the one we were closest to.

“I might have some quarters in my purse if you want me to—”

“I told you I have this, Casey.

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