by Jeana
When I kiss you? Butterflies unfurled in her stomach. What did that mean? Her toes curled in her strappy sandals at the thought of his strong arms wrapped around her waist and his lips parting hers. The taste of his cherry tongue…that sensitive upper lip…
He turned his back to her and moved to the opposite end of the bar to talk to two girls dressed in fishnet stockings and denim cut-off shorts. Was that the kind of girl he liked? She cast a glance down at her strapless knit dress and triple strand of fake pearls. Most of her clothes came from a secondhand store near her apartment. The dress was a bit on the conservative side, but the hemline showed a good stretch of thigh, and the tight knit emphasized her tiny waist.
“You want to dance?” A cute guy with warm brown eyes touched her elbow, saving her from her thoughts.
“Sure,” she said and slid from her barstool with a grateful smile. The more distance she put between Randy Mackenzie and herself, the better. She had no place in her life for distractions right now.
CHAPTER 8
Four metal cages stood on platforms around the perimeter of the dance floor. Longhaired, long-legged hotties teased and swayed to the band’s cover of “Trenches” by Pop Evil. She loved to dance, especially to music like this, with its catchy melody, driving beats, and edgy bass. When she was a child, her family had been too poor to afford studio lessons, but Mitch had found a hip-hop class for her at the community center. Later, in her high school years, she’d taught those classes herself.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder. A tall girl with swinging brown hair and legs like a giraffe gave her a bright smile. She recognized the brunette from one of the cages. A skintight red mini-dress hugged the stick-straight figure, and a deep V-neck plunged down to her navel. Karly smiled back at her, startled but curious to be singled out.
“You’re a good dancer,” the girl shouted over the music. She pointed at one of the cages. “You want to go up in one?”
“Me? Are you serious?” Karly froze and after a few seconds realized her mouth was hanging open. She shut it with a snap.
“Yeah. Sure. I need a break. Come on.” The girl grabbed Karly’s hand and pulled her toward the cage.
The band rolled into “I Sat By The Ocean” by Queens of the Stone Age, one of her all-time favorites. She let herself sink into the music, tapping her hands on her hips, smoothing a palm along the length of her side, undulating her body in a slow and teasing groove. With a flip of her hair, she turned to face the bar. When she opened her eyes, Randy stood a few paces away, directly in front of her cage.
He was engaged in conversation with a couple of guys dressed in faded concert tees and sporting multiple piercings. When her gaze locked with his, he stopped mid-sentence to stare. His broad chest rose and fell with a heavy breath. She bit her lower lip and began a slow roll of her hips, grinding around and down with sultry intent. The muscles of his throat constricted as he swallowed. She closed her eyes, turned, and threw him a heavy-lidded glance through her lashes. He smiled and shook his head, clearly amused and aroused by her performance. She winked and smiled back, feeling an unexplained warmth and sense of camaraderie for the big guy.
Thirty minutes later, she was about to return to the bar, breathless and exhilarated, when she ran into a former classmate, Cody Northcott. Except for a few extra pounds around the middle, Cody looked much the same as he did in high school when he was the star quarterback and hung around Mitch.
When he waved and beckoned her to his booth, she cautiously approached, reluctant to join him but unwilling to appear rude. Although Cody had always been kind to her, he was a painful reminder of a past she struggled to forget. To her relief, the smile on his attractive face seemed genuine. She relaxed and chided herself. They had been kids back then, and it had been a long time ago. There was no reason for her to feel inferior. She had come a long way, and she was proud of her accomplishments. Buoyed by confidence, she smiled back at him.
“Hey, Cody,” she said. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“You either,” he replied. “You look great, Karly.” A sweating pitcher of beer sat in the center of the table. He poured a glass and slid it over to her. “So what have you been up to? I haven’t seen you in forever. How’s Mitch?”
“Mitch is good. He’s a cop now.” She took a gulp of the beer. It was warm and flat, but she was parched.
Cody rolled his eyes and laughed. “No way. He was always cheating on tests and skipping school. I pictured him on the inside of the jail cell.”
“Yeah, well, he surprised us all.” She started to say more but stopped when three more popular guys from high school joined them. After a brief round of introductions, the conversation skipped from one topic to the next, running the gamut from politics to the latest celebrity scandals. They were entertaining company, polite and attentive, laughing and flirting with her. She glowed under their attentions until the band stopped for a break.
“Thanks for the beer,” she replied. “I need to check up on my friend. It was nice seeing you again.” She slid across the wooden bench of the booth to exit. One of Cody’s friends offered a hand to help her stand.
The crowd thickened around the bar in search of refreshment, making it nearly impossible to enter or exit the dance floor. Karly stood immobilized by the crush a few steps from Cody’s booth. She bit her lip and smiled at their lighthearted quips, trying to pretend she wasn’t eavesdropping.
“She seems nice,” the guy who had helped her from the booth said. “I don’t remember her from high school, though.”
“She’s a few years younger than us,” Cody replied. “She had a nickname back then. What was it?”
Oh, yeah, I remember,” said one of the other guys. “Easy Karly.”
Shattered glimpses of high school flashed through her mind, like pieces of a broken mirror reflecting moonlight. Too much beer. Fogged car windows and heavy breathing. Young and flattered by the attentions of a popular upper classman, she let things go too far. The next day, he told all of his friends. One indiscretion stuck with her for the rest of high school. She had been the butt of more jokes and ridicule than she cared to remember.
A crushing tightness forced the air from her in a whoosh. She pressed a hand to her chest to ease the pressure. The room tilted. The air thickened, heavy with humidity, and redolent of human sweat. Desperate to flee, she shoved through the crowd and fled down the hall behind the bar. All she wanted was to get as far as possible from the wreckage of her past. Blinded by hurt and disappointment, she bolted through the nearest door, plummeted into the alley, and ran into a hard, unyielding chest.
A warm hand gripped her elbow to steady her. She looked up into Randy’s face. He scowled down at her, cigarette dangling between his lips, cell phone to his ear.
“Holy fucking hell,” he muttered, clearly alarmed by her expression. His hand slid from her elbow, and he stepped back. With a concerned frown, he took one last drag on the cigarette and tossed it to the pavement.
Startled out of her dismay, she turned to go back inside and found the door had no exterior handle. She slapped a hand on the steel surface. The hollow smack echoed down the empty alley.
“It’s exit only.” Randy’s voice rang with amusement. He raised one finger, a silent plea to wait a minute. The expression on his face transformed into something softer as he spoke into the phone. “Hey, buddy. What’s up? I know… I know… Did you have a bad dream?”
Karly huffed out a frustrated sigh, crossed her arms over her chest, and tapped a foot on the pavement. Seeing no choice but to wait, she closed her eyes, focused on her breathing to calm her racing heart, and choked back the urge to punch something. Dimly, she heard Randy’s rough voice mellow with affection and compassion for the child on the other end of the call.
“I can’t come over, bud. I know you do. I miss you, too.” Randy swallowed audibly. She opened her eyes to see his face contorted with pain. “You’re the only thing that matters to me. Understand? Okay? Put your mom on the
phone, will you?”
One of his hands ruffled through his hair, sending random strands into spiky disarray. He glanced up at her. Their eyes met, and she saw unfathomable depths of emotion in his stare. Feeling as if she’d caught him naked, she lowered her gaze to the pavement. She knew that kind of pain. She felt it every time she spoke with Emma on the phone.
“This is not my fault, Pilar,” he said. His tone remained even and calm, but the disheveled mess of his hair showed his distress. “You’re the one who left.” He held the phone away from his ear. Karly heard the caustic female voice on the other side. “You can’t keep me from my own kid.” After a few seconds, he stared at the phone. “Fuck!”
For a split second, she thought he was going to hit something. Rage, fury, and frustration blazed in his eyes. He drew back his arm to throw the phone at the brick wall then thought better of it. As if suddenly aware of his exposed emotions, he turned his back to her. The broad shoulders rose and fell in rapid succession, his breathing harsh and audible. After a beat, he let out a deep sigh and turned to face her. The guarded caution in his eyes haunted her, a reminder of the dog in the park, as if he’d been kicked one too many times.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “What Mitch and Pilar did to you—it was shitty.”
The questioning tilt of his head and the narrowing of his eyes should have tipped her off. Instead, she kept talking like an idiot. “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy. Especially since you’ve got a child together. I bet you’re pretty pissed.”
“Yeah? You think?” A muscle twitched in the side of his jaw while his eyes darkened.
Just stop talking, Karly, she thought, but her mouth continued independent of her brain. “I know he’s my brother, but he can be a dick. And now that she’s pregnant…” She didn’t get to finish the sentence, stopped by the look of absolute shock on Randy’s face. He didn’t know? Oh, God. Blood rushed into her cheeks, her guts shriveling with the knowledge that she’d unintentionally hurt him.
He exhaled a long breath and turned his back to her, head bowed and one hand propped against the wall for support. The exit door squealed open on rusty hinges. A trio of laughing men tumbled out into the damp heat. Music blared through the opening then turned into a muffled throbbing as the door banged shut behind them.
“Randy? I’m so sorry. I – I thought you knew.” She rested a hand on his back. The muscles beneath her palm twitched like a horse shooing a fly, and she withdrew her touch quickly. “Are you okay?”
“Just give me a minute. Will you?” The normally confident voice cracked with emotion, and her heart ached for him. She knew the pain of betrayal as well as anyone. The way it shredded your guts into confetti and left you hollow inside. After a minute, he turned to her, his face splotched with red. “Are you—are you sure?”
Tears of empathy stung her eyes. She blinked them back and nodded. “I’m sure. He told me yesterday. They’re moving in together, I think.”
A deep sigh gusted from him, an echo of the grief in his eyes. The long muscles of his throat worked as he swallowed. Spurred by guilt over her part in his distress, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. At first, he stood immobile, a monument of stone, but his arms eased around her, clutching her to him.
They stood that way for a long time. She felt his anguish, the way it seeped into his bones, making every joint and muscle ache, and wrecked his soul. His heart beat beneath her ear, strong and steady, despite the trauma. All she could do was hold him and murmur words of encouragement the way she held Emma after a nightmare.
The exit door squealed open again as more people rolled out amid laughter and drunken chatter. It was late, and the night was rapidly winding down. The interruption seemed to jerk Randy from his funk. He gently pulled from her embrace and pushed her back, distancing himself physically and emotionally. The look on his face sent a shiver down her back. His eyes were blank, completely devoid of the emotion she’d felt so strongly within his arms. Like a light switch, he’d turned it off.
“Okay,” he said, rolling his head on his shoulders, as if loosening up for a fight. “I’m good. We should get back.” He opened the entrance door and motioned her inside with a jerk of his head. With another flick of the switch, he was back in control, exuding the confidence she found so alluring, as if nothing had happened. The disparity between his personas confused and intrigued her.
In the darkness of the narrow hallway, he seemed larger. Intensity rolled off him in waves, filling up the small space, and enveloping her. “Hold up,” he said with a touch to her arm. “What were you doing out there?”
“I just needed some air,” she said. “It’s hotter than the seventh circle of hell in there.”
“Well, the alley isn’t the place to go. Unless you want to get raped or mugged. You never go out there alone. Come get me next time. Understand?” He exhaled through his nose, somber eyes boring into her. “Now. What’s wrong?”
After witnessing his drama, she’d almost forgotten her own. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall. “I fucked up once back in high school, and it comes back to haunt me now and then. It’s nothing, really. I’m over it.” When she opened her eyes, he stood in front of her, leaning on the opposite wall, hands in his pockets, brow furrowed. To her relief, there was no judgment in his stare, only compassion and curiosity.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Just the one time? Shit. I fuck up on a daily basis. Consider yourself lucky.” One corner of his mouth quirked into a reluctant grin. “Just ask my ex.”
“At least no one thinks you’re a worthless whore.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she bit her lip and wished she could take them back.
Randy cocked his head and studied her. The exit sign above the door illuminated the sharp edges of his profile with devilish red light. He took his hands from his pockets, grabbed her hand, and tugged her down the hall. “Who was it? Point them out to me.”
“No. I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.” She forced a reluctant smile, caught off guard by his concern. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let them know they hurt my feelings. Besides, why should I care what they think? It was a long time ago, and I know the truth about what happened.” She raised one shoulder and let it drop in an unconcerned shrug.
His eyes met hers, the connection irrefutable between them. “You’re a smart girl.” His thumb whispered over the back of her hand, gentle and encouraging. A hint of a smile twitched in the corner of his mouth. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go kick their asses?”
She didn’t say anything but shook her head.
Randy huffed through his nose, feigning disappointment. “Fine. Come on then.” He tightened his grasp on her hand. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”
Seated at the bar with the counter between them, Randy poured two generous shots of Jaegermeister and slid one silently across the polished wood in front of her. “Jack asked me to take you home tonight.” He spoke matter-of-factly, as if she hadn’t delivered a deathblow to his heart a few minutes earlier. “I’ll need to close up first, though.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “Really. I don’t want to be any trouble."
"Nope." He placed both hands flat on the counter, one on each side of her empty water glass and studied them. "Jack said I was to deliver you to your door. So deliver you, I will."
"Do you always do what Jack says?" The Jaegermeister burned as she tossed it back. The sweet taste of licorice lingered on her tongue. Randy leaned toward her, his movement stirring a whiff of masculine shower gel and fabric softener.
"Not usually," he replied. Something had shifted between them, taking them over the hump from strangers to friends. The weight of mutual disappointment and heartbreak spanned the distance between them like a bridge. “But I’m going to make an exception for you.”
“So you’re the rebellious, break-all-the-rules type?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
He stared back, his ga
ze unwavering in its intensity. Humor curled the corners of his mouth. “More like the can’t-catch-a-break, fuck-everything-up type. As I think you already know.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m the Queen of Bad Decisions.” She extended a hand in greeting. “Nice to meet you.”
The broad shoulders lifted in a shrug before he poured out two more shots between them. They raised glasses and clinked them together in an impromptu toast. “Here’s to life,” he said. “Fucked up and unpredictable as it is.”
They drank in silence, each lost in separate musings. When she cast a glance in his direction, she found him staring at her with curious eyes.
“You asked me last night if anyone had ever ripped out my heart.” He paused long enough to pour a third shot and choked it down before continuing. “That guy last night—the one in the parking lot? He hurt you pretty badly, didn’t he?” The question rang with sincerity and a forthrightness that caught her by surprise. If anyone else had asked, she would never have answered or made up some self-deprecating lie to deflect his attention from the true pain inside her.
“Yes.” Unable to meet his gaze, she stared into her shot glass, wishing it were bottomless like the ache in her heart. “He fucked me over in a major way. I keep thinking I’m over it then something happens like last night and bam…” She snapped her fingers. “I’m right back where I started.”
Tears stung the backs of her eyelids. She blinked rapidly to hold them at bay. A rough hand covered hers. Startled by the touch, her eyes flew to his. An enigmatic expression guarded his gaze. One corner of his mouth twitched in a smile tinged with so much sadness it made her heart squeeze. The warm grasp tightened before releasing her, fingers trailing over the back of her hand in a whisper of sympathy.
After three years, Randy could close the bar without thinking, and it was a good thing. His brain was too busy flipping through every conversation he’d had with Pilar and every shared encounter with Mitch. The signs had been there. He had attributed their surreptitious glances, covert smiles, and an occasional brush of hands as coincidence. A vision of Pilar sitting at the bistro table with skin glowing and the loose material of her top fluttering over the slight bulge of her stomach should have given it away. Now that he knew for sure, the signs of infidelity slapped him in the face.