Waves - Book #2 [completed]

13 ~ Ukiyo

Ukiyo
(Japanese)
noun
Living in the moment, detached from the bothers of life, "The floating world"

It's humbling – and a little humiliating too – to sit in the backseat like a child when you're a 6.2" guy, the car isn't a limo and "mom" and "dad" are sitting in the front. I feel like my knees are all the way up in my chest from how small the back is in Danny's car. He clearly didn't buy it with fully grown passengers in mind.

Lucky for me, it isn't a long drive to Connor's and I can stretch my legs eventually. The few parking stalls in front of the bar are all occupied and a few cars are parked second row. Dull thumping bass drifts into my ears as Rathi, Danny and I cross the street. The sun hangs low in the sky, tinting it a burning red color. There's a nice breeze going, cooling the still hot air.

Yesterday it was so hot that I shaved off my beard on a whim to remedy the sticky feeling on my face. Do I regret it? Yes. Yes, I do. Because as Rathi said, I look tamer without it. More spick and span Loki than Thor. Luckily this condition will only last a couple days before visible stubbles will line my jaw again. Lesson learned.

Danny shoulders the front door open and guides Rathi inside with his hand on the small of her back. I admire how comfortable they are with each other as he shields his short girlfriend from the rowdy crowd, finding our table in no time. Harry and Riley are already seated in a booth by the wall and beer bottles of different brands are scattered across the table. Said booth consists of two longer backrest-less benches and a wobbly table.

Danny hugs Riley first and places a friendly kiss on her cheek before moving on to bro-hug his friend. Riley's nose crinkles up as she smiles hugging Rathi who says something into her ear to which she replies with a coy bob of her head.

Seeing Riley in her white v-neckline crop top triggers a flicker of wanton memory in my head. My mind latches on and gallops away, keeping me standing here, gawking like a moron and wishing I could trace the subtle tan lines on her shoulders with the pads of my fingers. Or explore her tanned and toned stomach that peeks out just a bit between the hem of her top and her sexy wrap skirt that also exposes one long leg when she moves. I knew giving in to fucking my hand while fantasizing about her was a bad idea. Now she's the default image every time I... Never mind!

I opt for awkward shoulder claps with the two guys. Then Riley turns to face me, a hesitant smile on her lips. Shit! I want to touch her, hug her even. I'm practically aching, but trying to keep my cool and contain myself, I smirk. "Crabby!"

"Mr America." She gives me an exasperated look that's also half amused before giving me a side-hug that shoots way too many sizzles through my veins because of the way her scent invades my nostrils. It's the same masculine-leaning honey-cypress fragrance that made me weak in the knees last time I smelled it. It has the same effect now. So I sit down next to her in the booth, filing my ability to that in a proper manner and without knocking anything over as improvement.