The Longest Five Years (Completed)

Luke

Present Day

I'm sick to my stomach. I shouldn't have come here.

I haven't smoked in years and I'm dying for a cigarette. The music is so loud it's vibrating the floor, and I'm a few beers in so I've got to sit down. The bar is packed with locals and new faces, but I only care about one. That's why I'm here.

"Need another? Got an hour 'til last call..." Maggie, the bartender asks. She's pretty-blonde and blue-eyed and gets a lot of attention from other guys, but she's not my type.

"No," I shake my head. "Not here for the beer tonight." Alcohol's my friend, but not my best friend and never has been.

She nods and moves on to chat with the guy to my right, and I glance up at the wall clock behind the bar. It's 1 am. Just how late does she go on?

I'm not stalking her, but I think someone might be, and if this is the only way I can protect her, I'll stay here all night. I can't stand the idea that she's doing show the day after that shit with the car being stolen, but she won't be told. I've always known that.

I take the last swig of my beer and turn toward the door just as she walks in. And yeah, I'm feeling pretty good right now with a few beers buzzing through my system, but she's a dirty angel in those heels. She's wearing a deep blue dress that's belted at the waist and ends just above her knees. Her hair is braided again, resting on her right shoulder, and her ears are kissed with diamonds.

I should stay right here. I should leave her alone, but I don't.

I stare at her as I walk unsteadily in her direction, but she must not feel my eyes on her. She walks to the bar, says something to Maggie and slams two shots before walking away. She takes the stage with her guitar, strumming lightly before starting her set.

The crowd quiets. The lights dim. A few people shout "I love you, Reagan!" My fists want to start swinging, but I tell myself they are just fans. This part of the bar is dark. I'm sure she's blinded by the stage lighting, but she's staring right at me, like she realized I'm here. Her voice is rich and smooth and sexy, and I'll be kicking myself for the rest of my life that I let her go. That I ever thought I could love anyone but her.

She greets the crowd and performs a few songs before taking a short break. She hops down from the stage, leaving her guitar in its case, and heads to the bar again. It's crowded; she's probably bumped into a dozen people on the way, so I'm going to make sure one of those people is me.

"Luke. What are you doing here?" She's flushed and I wonder if it's the alcohol or me.

"As you know, I've got the night to myself. No better way to spend it than seeing you. You're killer up there. Really. So damn good," I smile, but she says nothing. "Let me guess. You're pissed that I'm here."

"No," she shrugs, pushing her way toward the bar. "I'm pissed this damn state passed laws that don't allow me to smoke in here," she teases, knocking on the bar top to get Maggie's attention. "Another few,"

"Whatcha drinkin'?"

"Tequila," she says, taking another shot down.

"You wanna share?" I ask, pointing to the three shots. "You weren't planning on taking all those yourself, were you?" My eyebrows bounce, and she pushes two toward me.

"You look good up there. They love you," I tell her, drinking one down. She follows suit.

"I feel good up there," she shouts at me over the music. "Music makes sense."

I nod and swallow the second shot before slamming it down on the bar. I thread my fingers through hers and pull her to a corner so I can have a minute alone with her.