50
fiction
Love in the Rough words Liesel Schmidt image Kurhan/Shutterstock
WE CARRY PEOPLE with us like a pocket full of stones, taking them out to look at and ponder over, turning them over in our hands until their sharp edges are softened, polishing them so they glow in the light of our memories and lose their flaws. Sometimes, it makes moving on harder. Sometimes, it’s what is needed to rebuild something precious which would otherwise be lost.
Kate shrugged, playing with the label on her beer bottle. She’d been nursing it for a while, trying to work up the courage to break the ice with the stranger a few seats away. “What can I say? I’m good at reading people,” she quipped. His smile widened. “Seems so,” he replied. “Well, Iowa, surely you must be worried right about now. It’s
“Let me guess. An Iowa fan?” Kate said, locking eyes with
not looking good for you,” Kate said, glancing at the television
the man who had been occupying a stool down the bar from
screens above the bar. Oklahoma State was in the lead, and it
hers and nodding her head, indicating the logoed hat he wore
appeared unlikely that the tides would turn without a miracle.
on his. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve seen worse,” he said simply, his eyes He smiled and nodded, revealing white, even teeth that stood
shining with a hint of something Kate couldn’t quite put her
out against the dark hair of his unshaven face — handsome in
finger on, yet she couldn’t tear herself away from his gaze. He
a way both easy and mesmerizing at the same time. Hazel eyes
smiled again, and she realized she was returning it.
glittered under the dim overhead light. “How could you tell?” he asked, playing along.
“May I?” he asked, indicating the stool next to hers. She
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