“You got it, hon.” She winks before clearing my cup and swaying her hips a little too much as she heads to the next table.
After she returns a minute later with a six-pack of dark glass bottles all proudly displaying a technicolor Salty Dog Porter logo that looks hand drawn, I drop a few bills on the table and head out. I lost track of Brendan an hour ago. But he can take care of himself. As long as he remembers where we live now.
Stepping outside, I take a deep breath of the clean air and close my eyes. One hundred percent better than the bustling city. And worth the four hour commute I’ll have to do twice a month. Smiling, I head toward the promenade.It’s still busy, even this late in the evening. But it’s nowhere near as busy as downtown Seattle.
The salty, ocean air drifts up toward me as I pause to watch the sun resting above the water. Not a structure in sight. Just nature. Pure, beautiful nature.
I walk the two blocks to our new house, then get sucked in by the sunset and waves once again. Kicking my shoes off beside our garage, I head back across the promenade and step out onto the cool sand. Once I get about halfway to the water, I sit down on my ass and open one of my beers, tossing the cap back in the cardboard container.
As I sip it and watch the sun fade, I can’t help but chuckle. Despite being an architect, I’d rather be alone out in nature.
I tried the city life for seven years. But I never felt settled. It was always too busy. Too crowded. Yet too lonely at the same time.
Stretching my legs out, I make little, swirly imprints in the sand with my feet. Hopefully this place is different. Hopefully it’s someplace Brendan and I can actually make a home.
As the final rays disappear, enveloping the coast in darkness, I lean back, watching the stars, my mind finally calming. There are so many of them. Countless.
For a moment, I wonder why I never let Brendan talk me into moving to the Seattle suburbs. But something about this place just feels right.
“Figured I’d find you out here,” his gruff voice calls from behind me, like my thoughts called a magic genie to transport him right to me.
I pull out one of my bottles and hold it up instead of answering as Brendan plops down beside me.
He takes the porter, twists off the cap, and downs half of it.
“Take it you struck out?” I chuckle, shaking my head.
“Damn, stuck-up brunette. Didn’t even say two words to her and she told me to get bent.”
I only laugh harder as I finish my drink and pull out another one.
Chapter 3
Asra
“Ugh,” Vivian cradlesher temples, hunching over my kitchen island late the next afternoon, “I don’t think I’m ever going to touch tequila again.”
Raising my eyebrows, I slide her a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water. “That’s what you said every night of college.”
“Every morning,” she grins, popping three of the pills in her mouth and swallowing them with half the cup of water, “besides, this time I mean it.”
“Until tonight.”
“Nope.” She shakes her head, then groans and rubs her temples again. “I’m adopting your life. No more drinking.”