Bring Me Home ✔

Lookout Tavern Part 3

His Juliet.

That was what he had said. She was His Juliet, and she loved it. The adrenaline that coursed through her body stemmed from his fingertips, as they drew delicate circles on her back where his arm lay on the back of her chair.

"You're Matthew." She said as she turned to look at him, her face only inches from his. She watched as his eyelids lowered slightly, and he swallowed quickly. It made her happy to see that she had an effect on him as well, that she wasn't the only one nervous. His eyes were locked on hers, and the pull she felt between them was deafening; it drowned out the other noise in the room until she was only aware of the two of them. She wished she could take it back and say that he was her Matthew, but she was so tongue-tied, she could barely get the two words out that she did.

"I've waited a long time to meet you. Seeing you now, I wish I had just played hooky. I should have told my work that I couldn't make it in the very first time we tried to meet three months ago." His smell surrounded her, embraced her in a soft cloud. He smelled clean, like soap and just a hint of whatever deodorant he was wearing. It was intoxicating.

She leaned in slightly as she unconsciously took a larger inhale than normal. "That would've been nice." She said with a light sigh on her exhale. The tension in Juliet rose as she heard the bartender once more, and she remembered how stunning the blonde had been in comparison.

"What can I get for you?" She asked politely as she placed a napkin on the hardwood. Juliet broke the eye contact and dropped her gaze to his chest.

"I'll take a draft, please. Anything you have on tap is fine." His voice rumbled through his chest, and Juliet looked up when it had sounded as though he was still talking to her. Her eyes met his once more and he graced her with a small smile, never breaking eye contact to look over at the woman behind the counter, even as he thanked her when she set down his drink. It warmed Juliet, and she relaxed beneath his stare.

"They seem to make you travel a lot for work." She said as she picked up her drink and took a small sip from it. "Aren't there data analysts everywhere?" The cold drink slid down her throat, satisfied as it left a gentle burn in its place.

"There are, but I do both analysis and consulting on the data. I'm an independent contractor with my company, so they send me all over the country. I look everything over, consult with the client on their options, and then report back my findings. Sometimes it takes days other times it can take months." The thought of him leaving for an extended period of time made her uneasy. She had just met him, and she knew that they could just go back to texting and calling like before if needed. It wasn't ideal, but it was possible. "I actually just got back from a job this morning. I wanted to try and meet with you earlier, but I fell asleep as soon as I got home." He let out a laugh, and Juliet followed.

"It's okay. I was writing an article today and had to stop by the new restaurant that just opened on Board Street to interview the owner. It wouldn't have been much fun for you." She spoke nonchalantly, but in reality, she'd had a busy day today. On the way to her interview, she got a flat tire. It took her an embarrassing amount of time to replace it with the spare on her own, but she managed to get it done. This was followed by an interview with the owner of the new restaurant who wanted to talk her ear off and answer questions that Juliet never even asked her. When she was finally done, she had driven straight to get a new tire, only for it to cause her to be late to her monthly dinner with her parents. It had been an exhausting day, but it was all worth it now that she was finally meeting Matthew. The stress of her day had vanished, and all she could think about was his arm around her.

"I can't believe someone like you would be online. You must have men lining up to take you out." His chuckle of amusement was met with a stare of disbelief. Juliet was average size and looking woman, but regardless of what anyone said, she did not consider herself attractive or beautiful. Most of the time, people were more infatuated with her red hair than with her. When they told her how pretty she was, it was always followed by 'you can't get that color out of a bottle'. As nice as it was, she was tired of hearing it. She knew that if she didn't have the hair she did, she would just be another nobody in the background that got looked over as men made their way to the blonde bartenders of the world.