Pretty Hurts by Shyla Colt

Author:Shyla Colt [Colt, Shyla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inspired Ink
Published: 2016-09-22T21:00:00+00:00

Edgar

I smile at the kids squealing as they dodge the streams of water shooting up from the ground in the fountain area. The area is teaming with activity, and I’m a people watcher. I observe the teenage couple holding hands and whispering to each other. Ah, to be young and clueless again. Her face is flushed and his eyes are full of the adoration a young man wears before society tells him showing that much emotion isn’t masculine.

I scan the area, and my eyes rest on the woman coming toward me with gently swaying hips and a curvy frame. I laugh when I realize its Efia. She’s sexy as sin with long legs, wide hips, and a small waist. She’s wearing a floppy beige sun hat that does nothing to hide the fact that she’s bald. I’m proud of her. She’s come a long way over the past couple of months. There’s further to go, but I like to believe I’ll be around to witness it, and not just as her barber.

I stand, and she waves at me.

“You look amazing,” I say honestly.

“I think you’re inspiring my fashion choices,” she replies as she takes in my cuffed pants, black creepers, and a white T-shirt.

“I’m okay with that.”

“You should be. You have excellent style.”

I offer her my arm. “I figured we’d grab lunch and a few drinks at the Dive before we hit up the exhibits?”

“Sounds perfect to me.” She hooks her arm through mine, and I become insanely aware of the side of her body brushing up against mine. The base of my spine tingles. Her floral fragrance teases me. I lean in slightly and inhale. It’s intoxicating. My mouth waters and I swallow down the lust ramping up as we reach the ticket booth. I definitely need a drink or three.

“I got this. You can get the drinks,” I say before she can protest.

“Deal.”

After I purchase our tickets, we enter the building and head straight to the Dive. The low light cavern has a spectacular view of a built in fish tank that runs along the wall.

“You want to sit at the bar?” I ask, eyeing the families filling the majority of the tables.

“I think that’ll be the best way to go.”

When I press my hand to the small of her back, a jolt of electricity flows up my arm. I jerk my hand back and she peers at me. Did she feel it, too?

We find a spot at the end of the bar and I pull out her chair and she flashes me a smile that makes something in my belly tighten. She climbs onto the stool. I push her in and join her. We peruse the menu and end up ordering a sampler and Coronaritas—two margaritas that have a Corona bottle tucked into them.

The cool liquid hits my tongue and makes my taste buds dance. It does nothing for my heated flesh.

“How’s work been?” I ask, clutching onto a safe topic.

“Really good. I have a new client I’ll be working with that might end up being a long term thing.

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