The moment the song ends, he’s asleep, head rolled to the side, his full lips puffed open and looking sweet and so very, very normal.
“That was beautiful,” Ryan whispers.
Sniffing, I rub the tip of my nose. “Thanks. Look, I’m sorry about the zoo. But I told you—”
I see my street finally and a wave of relief engulfs me. Clicking on the blinker, Ryan pulls up to the stop sign before turning.
“I know. My bad, Liliana. I just forgot myself. My bad.”
If I don’t get out of this car soon I’m going to bawl like a baby. Tears and me, they don’t mix well. My face gets all splotchy and my nose is as big and puffy as Rudolph’s.
Parking, he doesn’t look at me again.
“Okay.” I nod. “Thank you, it was a great day.”
What a liar I am. It had been until I’d gone and gotten all stupid about the kiss.
It was just a kiss. I don’t know why I can’t just leave it alone; go back to the way we were. Stop overthinking it, but how do you stop thinking about seeing someone covered in his own blood, bleeding out all over you?
You don’t.
And I can’t.
Getting out, I walk around to Javi’s side and open his door, scooping him into my arms. Ryan doesn’t say anything, but he does look at me.
It’s a hard, penetrating, soul-deep gaze. One that pulls the tears from my eyes and makes me realize I’m right. I can never date someone like him; there’s too much baggage and I have my own.
“Goodbye, Ryan,” I mouth as he drives away.
***
The next night, I’m standing at the bar filling my fiftieth drink order of the evening. Monique sidles up, smiling bright and tapping the bar with her finger.
“Vodka tonic, Long Island, and a Corona with lime. Make it snappy, chica bonita.” She winks, a large smile saturating her face.
Monique is depressively happy. Always is, she never has anything but a smile on her face, but tonight I’m just not feeling it. I hadn’t had to work, but I’d called in, asking to see if there were any shifts open. I’d needed to get out of the house and away from the memories of watching Ryan drive off.
I didn’t expect him to call.
Yeah, I pretty much blew any chance of that happening, but it bothers me a lot that I’m totally wigging about this. I don’t really know him.
So I kissed him and had fun. So what? Big deal? Move on. That’s what I want, isn’t it?
Sighing, I grab the glasses and fill her drink orders.
“Bar’s dead tonight, man. Surprised Gino gave you the shift,” Monique grumbles, gazing out at the nonexistent Saturday-night crowd. There are a couple of people watching Melody put on one of her finer performances, but the mood isn’t as electric as most nights. It’s flat and dull, just like my heart. “You know what it is?” She turns to me again. “That damn fight at the ‘L.’ You hear about it? Some local fighter, all the guys are down there.” She pouts. “Wish I was. I’m so bored.”
I chuckle, maybe my mood is rubbing off on her, I’ve never heard her complain this much. Monique can be very expressive when she wants to be.
“Who’s fighting?” I finally ask.
She shrugs. “Don’t know. But I heard some guy saying he’s really good, that maybe scouts were in the area or somethin’.”
“Scouts?” I grab for the Corona, popping the lid off. Next I grab a lime and section it into wedges.
“You know, like MMA ones. Anyway…” She waves a manicured hand, candy-apple-red nails glinting darkly under the lights. “Some guy at table six was telling me about his poker night at the frat house later tonight. Thinking maybe I’d like to go and just hang for a bit, relax. You want?”
Passing her the drinks, I glance at the clock behind me. It’s already past eleven. My family will be asleep and honestly, I know if I go home all I’ll do is replay my biggest dumbass moment and cringe.
“Maybe for a while.”
Tossing me a flirty kiss, she grabs the drinks and places them on her serving tray. “You’re the best, babes. One more hour and then we can throw all these drunken losers out.”
Laughing, feeling slightly better already, I get back to work. It’s impossible to stay cranky around her—she never allows it.
We’re like Cinderella’s coach—the second the clock strikes midnight, we tear off the slightly skanky work clothes, rub off all the glitter and makeup, and pull our hair back into buns.
Gino tries to stop us, get us to help clean up, but Monique grabs my arm and we are out before he can even ask.
Giggling, I get into her cherry-red Jeep Grand Cherokee and before I know it, we’re at the frat house. It’s a slightly dilapidated old-school kind of a home. It must have been beautiful at one time, three stories with a triangle roof and white brick chimney, wraparound porches on each level, reminding me of an old antebellum-style plantation. But it’s no longer the proud old building it once was—paint is chipping from the sides, and windows are either cracked or have a thick sheet taped up on them.
Guys are never really good at taking care of things, not drunken twenty-one-year-olds, anyway.
Balling my hands into my coat pocket, I walk up the sidewalk to the front door.
“You think Jimmy’s here?” she asks, nibbling on her thumbnail.
Monique has a thing for him. Starting center of the Longhorn’s basketball team, he’s a tall, dark glass of water. At nearly seven feet and mad skills to match, there’s no doubt the boy’s headed to the NBA someday. I think Monique might genuinely like him, but she’s also very interested in where his future lies.
She isn’t shallow, but hey… a girl notices these things. I can’t say I blame her.
“I don’t know, maybe.”
We knock on the door, and when it opens light pours out around us.
A tall Hispanic guy wearing a birthday hat grabs our shoulders and yanks us in. “Look, boys, I brought dessert.” He wiggles his brows and I slap his chest.
“Get off me, Frankie.” I roll my eyes in disgust. I share an economics class with him; he’s okay, but way too flirty.
Biting his lip, he gets too close to comfort for me. “Aww, come on, Liliana. When you finally gonna say yes?” Then he draws a heart on his chest with his finger.
“Aww, shit.” Jimmy comes up behind him, slapping his hands on Frankie’s shoulders and spinning him around. “That lame-ass stuff actually ever work on anyone, Frank? Hey, Lili.” Jimmy smiles at me. “How you doing tonight?”
Chuckling, Frankie flicks his wrist and stumbles off, seeking easier prey.
“I’m all right, you?”
“Ah, you know.” His eyes find Monique’s and his lips twitch. “How you doin’, M?”
“Good,” she whispers.
I’d say the feelings between them are definitely mutual, the spark is so hot it’s making the fine hairs on my arms stand up. Taking a step to the side, I wink at her and say, “I think I’ll go find me a beer.”
Blowing me another one of her air kisses, she grabs Jimmy’s arm and they make their way to the upper-level rooms.
I don’t recognize many faces here, a few from class and bumping into them on the campus lawns, but I don’t mind being Monique’s wingman for the night. No doubt about it, this is a booty call, so I figure I’ll be here another hour at least.
Heading toward the makeshift bar, I pour myself a beer from the keggerator, then walk into the poker room.
Typical guy place with beer-brand neon signs up on the walls and a few posters of naked women fondling themselves.
Very attractive.
Rolling my eyes at the stereotype, I find an empty couch and toss the cups littering the cushions to the ground. The floor is tacky with things I don’t even want to know about. I watch the game, smiling at whatever random guy or girl strolls by.
I don’t need a lot to keep me happy, just being around people my age every once in a while is enough.
A few of the guys look like they want t
o approach and with those I make sure never to return their smiles and give a clear “stay away” vibe. Eventually, the skittish little colts get the message and I’m left alone.
Just as I’m ready to finish up my beer, I hear Alex’s loud whooping laughter and then a raucous cry of “there you go, you da man” erupts all around me. I didn’t have a clue coming here this was actually Alex’s frat house; the realization makes the beer settle gross in my stomach.
But then I really want to puke when, a second later, Ryan comes in. His jaw’s bright red and looks like it’ll turn into bruise later, but he’s grinning from ear to ear and rolling his eyes.
My pulse thumps, and I lick my lips as my stomach continues to dance its way to my knees. I don’t think they’ve noticed me yet, so I sink farther into the chair, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible.
Grabbing two cups, Alex heads over to the bar and pours drinks out for them. My gaze returns unerringly to Ryan, I can’t stop looking at him, knowing I should after what I’ve done, but there’s a draw I can’t ignore anytime he’s around.
“What’s your record now, man?” Frankie claps Ryan’s back.
Ryan smiles. “Ten and two.”
“Dayum.” Frankie points at him. “You see this here, this is gonna be a star. I’m telling you,” he shouts to the room, which again erupts into a round of applause.
There’s a lot of high fiving and cheering after that and it dawns on me that Ryan once said he was an MMA fighter.
Is he the local guy?
A short blond girl grips his waist and wiggles herself under his arm, whispering something in his ear that makes him blush.
Those dark blue eyes of his I can’t quite seem to get out of my head turn smoky and I have to take a deep breath because something a lot like jealousy starts to wiggle its hot little wormy body through my brain.
Then he nods and my mouth turns down. I don’t want to watch him grab her hand and walk up the same set of stairs Monique and Jimmy had headed up thirty minutes ago.
Forcing myself to look back down, I chew on my cup and wonder how bad it would be if I just text her to say I took a cab home.
Then the couch shifts as a body sits next to me. The smell is the first thing I notice, hot and spicy and all man, the whiskey-smooth drawl is the second.
“Didn’t expect to see you here?”
Ryan’s voice makes me shiver and turns my nipples to hard little nubs.
So he hadn’t gone upstairs with the blonde after all. I fight to swallow a satisfied smile.
“Didn’t expect to come until about an hour ago. My friend knows one of the guys,” I say, hating that my words sound so breathy.
He looks around, but I can’t stop staring at him.
Ryan isn’t pretty, he’s rugged. All man. There’s nothing soft about him, but it’s no less sexy. Alex may have the market cornered on country-fed, down-home yummy, but Ryan is the kind of guy who makes a girl feel immediately safe and vulnerable and sexy, especially when his hot gaze is all over you, like his is on me right now.
I cross my legs, mouth throbbing as I remember the taste and feel of his lips.
“Where is she?” he asks.
Somehow I manage to speak around the thickness of my tongue. “Upstairs.”
“Ah.” His eyes twinkle as he shifts on his seat. “Like that, huh?” Then he scowls and I wish I knew what he’d just thought. “And you’re sitting down here by yourself?”
Oh my God, does he think I’m with someone? My heart trips at the thought.
Why is the thought that he might actually be jealous so sexy?
This isn’t good. The way my heart beats, the way my pulse thumps and my head spins, I shouldn’t be feeling like this. Why can’t I stop?
“Were the guys…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, but he doesn’t have to. I shake my head, deciding to put him out of his misery. “Bunch of teddy bears, told them I was just here for the beer.” I hold up my cup and then look over at his as he takes a sip.
Maybe I shouldn’t, but immediately my mind goes to three months ago. I don’t like seeing Ryan drink, not that it’s any of my business, but I just don’t.
“I know what you’re thinking. It’s all over your face.”
I scrape my nail along the rim of my empty cup. “No, you don’t.”
He purses his lips and I know I’m blushing; I can feel the heat spreading through my cheeks. He’s torturing me on purpose, I know he is.
“This isn’t beer. See.” He tips his cup, showing me a red liquid inside. “It’s juice. Alex is good about making sure I don’t drink except on very special occasions.”
What does that mean?
Does he consider what he’d done a special occasion?
Tongue feeling two sizes too big in my mouth, I shrug like he hadn’t just pegged me. “I wasn’t thinking that.”
“Sure you weren’t.” His smile is short and mysterious as hell, and it makes my body burn.
Clearing my throat, I arch a brow. “Anyway. You do this all the time?”
“What’s that?” He takes another sip of his juice.
“Come to frat houses on the weekends? Awfully cliché, wouldn’t you say?”
“I think that’s the pot calling the kettle black, wouldn’t you?”
He has a point, and I laugh. “Whatever.”
“Nah.” He shifts again, but this time he’s moving away from me and I don’t like that. Yeah, I know, it makes me one of those females that just can’t make up their minds, but I can no longer deny my attraction to him, especially when he’s trying to do exactly what I’ve asked and just be friends. It only makes him more sexy.
“This is Alex’s thing. I just come with him to keep him honest.”
“Then what do you usually like to do on the weekends?”
His brows gather as he seems to consider it. “I don’t know. You mean besides watching porn?”
I stick my tongue out and he clamps down on the edge of his lip, rolling it between his teeth in a way that makes me hot and twitchy. This man is dangerous and I want him. I mean, I really do. I want to drag him up the stairs, find a room, and not come out until morning.
Licking my lips, I cross my legs.
He grins. “I watch movies, read—”
“You read?”
Narrowing his eyes, as if not sure whether I’ve just insulted him or not, he pauses and I shake my head.
I soldier on. “That’s not what I mean. I just meant it’s nice to find a guy who admits to that. Most guys don’t. And if they do, it’s like some shameful secret.”
Chuckling, he nods. “I guess. I’m kind of into the classics. War and Peace, A Tale of Two Cities, started reading Moby Dick last night. Call me Ishmael.”
Not at all what I’d expected. I hate judging books by their covers, but Ryan seems more like this guy. The one sitting in a frat house on a Saturday night, the one drinking beers and sleeping with as many women as possible. And maybe he’s just blowing smoke up my butt, but I don’t really believe that because he knows he’s got nothing to gain with me.
I’m off-limits, so maybe this is the real him and I’ve had him all wrong.
He must have noticed my look, because he smirks. “Yeah, not what you expected, huh?”
“You know it’s really annoying when you read my mind.”
He laughs and I can’t help but respond. He has a nice one, sexy… It shivers across my body and makes my breasts feel full and achy.
“At least you’re honest.” Tipping his cup, he takes another sip.
“Javier had fun yesterday.”
“Good. That’s good.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize again, to ask him if maybe we can try to be friends again and wipe the slate clean of yesterday, but the girl who’d been with him earlier picks that moment to return, plopping down onto his lap and circling his neck with her arm. His hand lands on her knee, a familiar-looking gesture, and I hate it.
&nb
sp; I can’t stop glaring at his hand, wishing he’d move it, wishing she’d get off him. Blinking my eyes closed, I tell myself this is for the best, but that thought hurts like hell. For a second I’d forgotten my own rules.
Thought I could actually be friends with him. Maybe with another guy, but not Ryan, because Ryan’s too dangerous, makes me feel scary, unbelievable things. He’s the fire that consumes, will shatter all my defenses. I don’t know how I know that, I just do.
The girl’s whispering in his ear again, pressing her body tightly to his—like she’s done it before, and maybe she has—and I want to vomit as the beer takes that moment to remind me drinking on an empty stomach is a bad idea. Ryan though, he’s looking at me with a question in his eyes.
But I can’t talk, not with that girl sitting there looking all adorable and needy, so I lift my cup and jiggle it.
“Need a refill.”
He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t stop me and I don’t look back, because I feel like an idiot and a fool. I blink back the tears and hope I don’t do something stupid like cry about a guy I’m not dating and never will making out with some blond bimbo right in front of me. Ryan can touch whomever he wants.
Working myself up to a really good pity party, I don’t see Frankie until he’s right in front of me.
He holds the spout of the kegger out to me. “Hey, sexy. Been watching you tonight.” His hot breath fans the shell of my ear.
Then he claps his large hand on my ass and yanks me into him, kissing me.
And I should push him back, tell him get a life, but I’m raw and insecure and know Ryan’s watching and somewhere ugly inside me I want to know he’s as jealous as I am.
So I kiss Frankie back.
It isn’t long or pleasant; he’s drunk off his ass and the fumes are making me dizzy, but I make it look as good as I can, even going so far as to thread my fingers through his slick curls. A shivery moan spills from his lips and that sound is like a slap in the face. I push him back.
Stumbling, his lashes flutter and a breathless whimper whooshes from his lungs as he laughs. And the awful realization is that I’ve become just another notch in his belt.
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