Free La Vie en Rose {Life in Pink} by Lydia Michaels

aimed to one target and then...pow.” He drew in a slow breath. “Chemical explosion. Lust. Need. Hunger. All those intense senses come into play and make...” He shrugged. “Ecstasy.”
    She swallowed. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt ecstasy.”
    “You will, but not with some douchebag you search out at a bar. The connection has to be authentic.”
    Massaging her forehead, she growled. “This is so hard. It never used to be this difficult.”
    “It’s not that complicated. Stop trying so hard and just wait for it to happen. You’re so worried about selling yourself you’re overpitching.”
    “But no one sees me if I don’t put myself out there.”
    “They see you. You are out there. You’re here, in a bar, looking beautiful. That’s the appeal. Constant declarations of self-worth scream insecurity. Have faith in yourself. Being you is enough.”
    Ashamed her insecurities made a spectacle of her first evening on the prowl, she decided to call it a night. What was she doing anyway? This wasn’t her.
    Plucking the earrings from her lobes, she slouched forward and sipped her soda. “You’re pretty knowledgeable when it comes to women.” It freaked her out how in tune he was with her flawed logic. He knew her better than she knew herself in some cases.
    “I get people. It’s part of being a bartender.” He rested his elbows on the counter. “I watch them, Emma. The women that come in here and lay it on thick, they’re as transparent as glass. Sure, they get plenty of company and free drinks, but that’s because they’re selling guarantees. They’re still paying. It’s a trade, their body and pride for a shallow impression of affection. They get exactly what they ask for, but nothing more. You deserve the more.”
    “What’s the more?”
    “Respect. There are ways to keep it casual and respectful, but you can’t rush into it.”
    “You’re right. I should probably thank you for saving me from that guy.”
    “Yeah you should. He was a tool.”
    “Thank you,” she grumbled. Scooting off her stool, she grabbed her earrings and tucked them in her purse. “I think I’m heading home.”
    “You sure?”
    “Yeah. The only guy I want to be with right now is Colin Firth.”
    “Who?”
    “He’s a British actor. I’ll see you at home.”
    “Hey, Em...”
    She turned. “Yeah?”
    “I got more ice cream. One for me and one for you. They’re hidden in the back of the freezer behind the corndogs.”
    Her face softened, as her opinion of him climbed another notch. Ice cream was exactly what she needed. Ice cream and maybe a good ugly cry. “Thank you, Riley.”
    He nodded. “See you at home.”

Chapter Five
    ––––––––
    J oni Mitchell’s voice crooned from the television as she and Riley crammed onto the couch, foot to foot, sharing the comforter from her bed while watching her favorite movie of all time, Love Actually .
    Her heart pinched as the scene unfolded in a memorable display of treachery and neglect. Hearing a sniffle from the other side of the couch, she glanced at Riley. “Are you okay?”
    “She’s just so stoic. How does she do it, knowing he bought the necklace for the other woman while she’s home breaking her ass trying to raise his family?”
    She wiped her eyes. “I know. It’s a great movie.”
    The scene cut to Liam Neeson’s character. “Oh,” Riley groaned. “And then there’s these two. This boy’s ripping out my heart. Why did you make me watch this? I’m delicate!”
    “Wait. It gets better,” she promised.
    Since embarrassing herself in front of a bar full of people, she decided to spend the last of her vacation doing things she truly enjoyed. Riley was sucked into her plan of absolute laziness sometime mid-Wednesday during the second Bridget Jones movie.
    Turned out, he had a soft spot for romantic comedies, so it was only right for her to introduce him to all her favorites. After this they were watching The Princess Bride.
    As the movie