The Love Laws

by Tamara Larson

  This kind of behaviour from a lesser guy would have been borderline offensive, but with Kevin, it was just a game. He knew on some level that she was attracted to him, and was determined to get her to admit it. But she wasn’t interested in games right now. She didn’t have the time or the energy. Perhaps when her life settled down, maybe she would take the time to discover if there was more going on here than just a guy with a libido in hyper drive and an inflated ego to go along with the front of his jeans. But now was not the time. So, she eased another inch away and put her hand out to prevent any further trespass into her personal space.

  He arched an eyebrow at her but didn`t move any closer. Oddly, she felt bereft of his body heat and solid presence beside her. But she couldn`t encourage him if she wanted to remain unscathed. Getting involved with him now would be foolish.

  “Down Boy. Take it easy, Kev.” Duncan muttered from across the table as Kevin slung an arm over the top of the booth. His large hand dangled precariously over Jamie`s silk-clad shoulder and he absently traced circles in the worn seat leather.

  Kevin blinked innocently at his friend. “What? You wanted me to sit next to you? Not likely. I can smell Hannibal from here. How that beast found a skunk in downtown Vancouver is a complete mystery.” He nudged the poodle gently with his booted foot and was rewarded with a low grunt from under the table.

  Leaning down slightly, Kevin pressed his nose into Jamie`s hair. “Yup. I much prefer the scent of wildflowers and vanilla to skunk. Thanks anyway.”

  While he sniffed her hair, Jamie realized something: Kevin was drunk. Not just a bit tipsy, but drunk. The smell of tequila emanated from him and he`d nearly head-butted her when he`d leaned down. He wasn`t flirting with her in particular - he was just a lush on the make. He`d be all over anything female at this point. He probably didn`t even remember their moment on the beach three months ago. She didn’t know why this made a difference to her but it did, and she suddenly found him significantly less than charming.

  She raised her arm and jabbed her elbow viciously into Kevin`s hard gut. The surprised ‘oof’ sound he made was loud and comical enough to cause several nearby patrons to turn and stare, but Jamie just took another sip of her drink and pretended nothing untoward had occurred.

  Across the table, Duncan chuckled and raised his glass in salute to Jamie. He loved it when a feisty female tortured his friend. It was such a rare occurrence. “You`re going to be smelling your own guts if you don`t back off, my friend,” he said to Kevin, and took a large gulp from his glass.

  “Wow. Warn me in the future if you want to play rough, Angel. I had no idea you were so violent.” Kevin said to Jamie, rubbing the injured portion of his anatomy.

  “I’m not. But being manhandled by a lush is not on my bucket list. I find a well-placed elbow usually gets my point across. Now, can I get some breathing room here?” Jamie asked sweetly.

  Obediently, Kevin removed his arm from where it had been nearly encircling Jamie’s shoulder and edged a scant inch away from her. He held his hands up in front of him in a placating gesture. “I was just being friendly. I haven’t seen you in a while and I got carried away. Forgive me?” He asked, flashing his biggest, whitest, most panty-drenching smile.

  Jamie did not return his smile. She just looked coolly down her nose at him and pointed to his cheek. “You have lipstick on your cheek,” she said evenly. Had he actually been making out with some poor girl just seconds before laying his hands on her? His unbelievable nerve made her bristle and she shifted away from him like he was contaminated.

  Kevin rubbed at his cheek with the side of his hand. Looking down at the bubble-gum pink smear on his fist, he grinned sheepishly. “Trisha,” he said, pointing at the bombshell bartender with his chin.

  Jamie couldn’t quite restrain herself from looking. Trisha was young, blonde, pierced, and built like a centrefold. Somehow this made Jamie even angrier.

  “No one cares, Kevin,” she said in her most dismissive tone. “Molest whoever you want. Though I would probably get some ID if you don’t want to end up on the sex offenders list.”

  “She’s 23, and we’re friends. She kissed my cheek. What is the big deal exactly?” Kevin asked, clearly puzzled.

  “No big deal at all. Feel free to defile as many barflies as you want. In fact, why don’t you start now? And we can get back to our conversation.” She angled away from him, completely ignoring his stunned look and smiled brightly at her sister instead. “So, any interesting cravings? Peanut butter and onions? Ice cream and tacos?”

  Kevin just stared at her perfect profile for a long moment. He was gobsmacked. Women did not ignore him. Ever. Even on his worst day he could usually tease a smile out of the most ornery battle-axe or hard-core lesbian. It was his thing. He flirted with women: amused them and made them feel desirable. It was all he was good at anymore. Had he lost his thing? No. That couldn`t be happening. He wouldn`t let it.

  Moving in close to Jamie`s delectably curved side, he was just reaching up to push her bright hair to the side so he could speak softly into her ear when he felt a sharp pain ignite in his shin. Someone had kicked him.

  Accusingly, he looked across the table at Duncan. His friend was shaking his head vigorously and making wild gestures with his hands that looked like he was trying to warn Kevin away from a poisonous snake, dangerous plant or possibly a vicious dog.

  “What the fuck?” Kevin mouthed, leaning down to rub his injured leg. Under the table, Hannibal growled louder. Man, he was unpopular tonight. Even the dog was giving him shit.

  He grabbed one of the tequila shooters he’d brought over and downed it in one gulp.

  Across the table, Duncan gave him a look of utter disgust.

  So, Kevin defiantly grabbed another shooter and downed that one too, slamming the glass back down on the table with ringing force.

  Before he knew what was happening, Duncan was up and dragging him by his collar across the pub towards the entrance. Not an easy task considering Kevin still outweighed him by a good thirty pounds and topped him by four inches.

  Kevin shook his friend’s punishing hands off him just as they burst through the door. He nearly stumbled, righted himself with exaggerated dignity and then threw his hands up. “What the hell? You insist I come out for a drink and then you throw my ass out? Just because I came on a little strong with Jessica’s sister? You can’t stand her anyway.”

  Duncan stuck his finger in his friend’s face. “Doesn’t matter. You were all over her, Kev. You know where I work. I can’t let this slide. Besides, she’s going through a rough time right now. She doesn’t need you assaulting her on top of everything else.”

  “Assaulting her?” Kevin gasped. Was he kidding? He’d never hurt a woman. His friend should know this. He thought about swatting Duncan’s finger out of his face, but knew they would quickly be trading blows on the street like thugs if he made that move. Duncan may be domesticated now, but his temper still made him a force to be reckoned with when riled up.

  Besides, as much as Kevin wanted to snap his friend`s censorious finger off at the knuckle, he didn’t want to risk their relationship over something so stupid. So he backed away a few steps and held his arms up in a placating gesture. “Are you kidding me? That chick can handle herself. If anyone’s been assaulted in this scenario it’s me. I’m outta here.” He made a somewhat awkward pivot, nearly hit the door with his shoulder and started walking away without a glance backward.

  “Kev.” Duncan called, both affection and frustration evident in his tone. “Wait. You dickhead. Where the hell are you going?”

  “Back home. To work. I don’t have time for this.” Kevin shouted back over his shoulder.

  “Bullshit!”

  Kevin stopped in his tracks. “What do you mean…Bullshit?” He went cold. Could Duncan actually know how bad things were going with his latest project?

  “I mean. Bullshit. You don’t have a home. And you haven’t worked, really worked, in weeks.”


  Kevin groaned and wished he’d brought one of those shooters with him. He could use another shot of liquid courage just about now. He was going to need it if they were actually going to have this discussion.

  He stopped and turned back to Duncan, as slow and threatening as a cobra unfurling from a basket. “Nice. Just because I don’t have your ideal domestic situation doesn’t mean I’m a hobo. For the last time, I live in a hotel because it’s convenient and practical. If I get hungry, I call room service. Maids take care of everything else, leaving me free to write and play. As for work, I have writer’s block. Big fucking deal. It happens to everyone at one point or other. But thanks for your support, man. What would I do without you?” He asked sarcastically.

  Duncan shook his head in disbelief. “You’ve been living in a hotel for the past three years, you moron. For the same cost you could own the equivalent to The Playboy Mansion, Bunnies included.” His voice dropped and he spoke in a rough growl. “And as for your ‘work’ you’re nowhere near done and your deadline is right around the corner. That’s not writer’s block, that’s complete creative constipation. You are fucked on so many levels. And instead of doing something about it, you’re drinking like it’s Mardi Gras every night and throwing yourself at women who’d rather sew their lady parts closed than have anything to do with you. What is your damage exactly? I`ve never seen you like this before. Should I be calling your mom? Staging an intervention? Arranging an exorcism? What? Tell me what I should do? Cause I’m telling you. You are scaring the crap out of me with this self-destructive bullshit.”

  Kevin ran his hands through his hair and turned towards the busy street. Duncan had never talked to him like this before. They were guys. They didn’t discuss the state of their mental health. They didn’t have to. They’d known each other forever. Being reproached like this seemed a weird sort of betrayal. Was his friend really worried or was his wife just rubbing off on him with all that ‘communication’ horse shit? Duncan should trust him enough to know that he would pull out of this tailspin before things went too far.

  Kevin wasn’t oblivious to what he was doing. He was painfully aware that he was burying himself in booze and women to avoid thinking or feeling anything. They were his ticket to sweet oblivion. As long as he had a drink in his hand and a woman to seduce, dark thoughts were banished. The moment he stopped pursuing one or both of his primary objectives, he was overwhelmed with horrible images and a sinister knowledge he fervently wished he’d never uncovered. He had no control over his thoughts, so instead he took the easy route and avoided thinking entirely.

  And it was totally working for him. He was drowning in pleasure and goodwill. Not a bad way to live, really. At least most of the time. He wasn’t an angry or morose drunk. Duncan knew that. If anything, his friend was probably envious of all the fun he was having. After all, Duncan was a married man - trapped in domestic servitude. And now he was going to be a father. His days of chasing women and drinking an afternoon or a weekend or even a month away were over. Not that Duncan had ever indulged in anything so irresponsible in his entire uptight life. He was always the voice of reason. While Kevin had a much more laid back attitude towards everyone’s expectations. He was the healthy one, for fuck’s sake. Not Duncan. Where the hell did he get off?

  In the spirit of friendship, Kevin got a grip on his own temper and allowed himself to review what had just happened: The look of mild disgust on Jamie’s face and her dismissive attitude towards him. Then he thought about the news he’d overheard as he’d approached their table. His best friend and his lady were about to become parents and he hadn’t even acknowledged it. He was too busy focusing on Jamie and the possibility of getting into her very fancy panties to congratulate his friend. And let’s not forget about the fact that he had willingly slept with Duncan’s maleficent ex-wife recently. Despite his protests and denials it was obvious that none of these actions belonged to a mentally stable individual.

  Was he out of control? How long had it been since he’d written anything exactly? It didn’t take long to recall. The nightmare hit him like a freight train and he found himself leaning against the side of the closest building, breathing heavily and letting the rain wash over his heated face. Images of frightened women, blood, pain and death overwhelmed him and he wished fervently for a drink and a warm, friendly, female body to dull the terror and fascination that gripped him and refused to fade.

  But he didn’t have a woman or a drink to distract himself with right now so he did the next best thing. He turned and punched the cinder block wall he’d been leaning against. Searing pain flowed through his knuckles and up his arm in a rush of sickening sensation.

  Duncan shouted his name, but he ignored his friend and looked down at his hand. The shock of seeing his own blood there seemed to snap him out of his fog for a moment and he was able to focus.

  Three weeks. It had been three long, blurry weeks since he’d written a word. He couldn’t seem to force himself to even sit down at his generic hotel desk and do anything more than stare at his Mac’s blank, accusing screen. He couldn’t even check his email without feeling a prickle of unease trickle down his spine.

  Rawlings, the subject of his latest true crime biography, had very simply ruined writing for him. The act that had once given him so much pleasure and confidence now filled him with terror. He wasn’t actually scared of Rawling himself. The infamous serial killer was in jail where he belonged and would never see the light of freedom again. No, it wasn’t that. It was something far, far worse that crept through Kevin’s mind when he sat down to write about Rawlings and the many, many women he had stalked, used, tortured and then strangled.

  Duncan was right. He was in denial. About so many things. It didn’t seem to matter that he was on the brink of alienating his best friend, losing his current book contract, and developing some serious addiction problems. He still desperately wanted a drink to kill his momentary awareness and a woman to dull his senses. He wanted these things more than his next breath. He knew all of this and yet was unable to move away from the edge of disaster.

  A week ago Kevin had escaped Kerry’s bed and resolved to take control of his life again, but it hadn’t worked. If anything, he was more lost than ever. And he had no idea how to pull himself together again.

  One thing he did know was this: He owed Jamie an apology. He clung to that one thought. It wasn’t much, but perhaps rectifying this one mistake was a step towards getting himself back on track. He only hoped she wouldn’t make him feel like a bigger tool than he felt like right this second.

  Knowing Jamie, she wouldn’t make this easy for him. For some reason, that thought made him smile.

  Chapter Five

  Love Law #2 – Men are Hunters.

  I know this is going to sound very anti-feminist, but it needs to be said. Please leave the chasing to the penis brigade. Don't get me wrong. I am all about female empowerment. I encourage all women to go after what they want in life. Be aggressive. Be a bitch when the situation merits it. Work hard and get ahead in your chosen field. Stand up for yourselves and inspire the next generation to do the same. Demand the respect you deserve if it’s not handed to you. But please, when it comes to romance, do not pursue men. It's just not natural. Years and years of evolution have conditioned them to chase their prey. As a result, they are mistrustful when the prey just lies down like a sick antelope. And that's exactly what we're doing if we are willing to do all the work. They don't value women who make it too easy for them. And it doesn't make sense. We have what they so desperately want. It's as simple as that. Why give it away when you can make them work for it? So, stop calling and leaving cutesy messages for that guy who never calls back. Don't answer those late night texts asking, "Hey, what are you doing now? Can I come over?" And above all else, do NOT show up at his home/work/gym uninvited unless you’re in an established relationship. This is not spontaneous, sexy behavior. It's stalking. And if you do it, you look like a complete bunny-boiler. Let them figure ou
t how to win you. That's their job.

  Jamie stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror at Steamworks and didn’t like what she saw one bit. The pretty face with the delicately upturned nose and smooth, pale skin was the same, but the eyes were hard and the full lips were drawn thin in disapproval. She looked old, tired and more than a little unpleasant.

  When had she turned into a shrew exactly? But that’s exactly what she was. Why else would she be so rude to Kevin? He was a complete horn dog, but she had loads of experience dealing with drunks on the make. She could have rejected him politely and avoided the whole Duncan dragging him out by the scruff of the neck scene. But no, she had to over react, causing her brother-in-law’s protective instincts to kick in and create a completely awkward rift in the two men’s friendship. Not cool. Not cool at all.

  The worst part was that she had no idea why she hadn’t stepped in and prevented Duncan from treating Kevin like a puppy who’d piddled on the rug. She could have easily intervened and smoothed things over between the two men, but she had just sat there, mesmerized by the sight of Kevin being thrown out of the pub by his best friend.

  The truth was that a very small, petty part of her was glad Duncan had taken Kevin to task for his behavior. She’d liked that the gorgeous blonde stud had been humiliated just a little bit. Not because he was too arrogant by half or thought he could seduce anyone with breasts. No. It was more personal than that. She had sat there and watched Kevin’s humiliation with a cruel little smile on her lips because he had dared to touch her after kissing another woman. She was jealous. Pure and simple.

  That’s why she was here in the bathroom trying to figure out how to put her green-eyed monster back in its cage and rectify the situation between the two men. She’d been here for a good ten minutes and knew that her sister would be in to check on her if she didn’t get back to their booth soon. But she couldn’t quite leave yet. She had some other ugly issues to deal with first.