Thankfully, they pulled up to the bar about ten minutes later. Dorian’s driving skills were reminiscent of the homicidal cabby in New Orleans. They got out of the car and crossed Ocean Drive, which was lined with cars creeping along since it was officially tourist season. They walked toward the entrance dodging people who were ambling loudly down the illuminated strip.
Dance music blared from a brightly lit bar on their right. The waitresses on the outside patio were carrying neon green drinks to already drunk patrons. She’d been to the bar once and tried a neon drink when she was hanging out with Jason and Amy from work one night, but quickly found out that she definitely preferred to stick to Jack or vodka. Despite her romp with that damned deceptive daiquiri in New Orleans, she wasn’t a huge fan of girly, mixed drinks, probably from spending so much time with Brian and Dorian.
They made their way down the street to the bar, which was already crowded. She’d tried to deliberately walk on the other side of Dorian, putting him between her and Brian, but they were having none of it. Brian frowned and shot her a look before moving to place her between the two of them. She sighed and rolled her eyes. Sometimes their overprotective shit was too much.
They entered the bar, and it was immediately obvious that it was more laidback than most of the places that surrounded it. For one thing, nothing was glowing. And even though the music was upbeat, it wasn’t deafening. There were also no waitresses wearing bikini tops.
They were able to find three seats together at the bar and again, she’d ended up in the middle. She snuck a glance at Brian. He was staring right at her, his expression unreadable. Again. She looked away quickly, biting her lip and pretending to study the drink menu.
“Yo, B,” Dorian was saying.
He nodded his head in the direction of a group of girls who had just walked in. They looked like models. All three of them had on stilettos and tight dresses that weren’t too revealing, but showed just enough. Destiny glanced at Brian as he turned to look then quickly turned back to her menu, still pretending to read it.
Dorian caught the eye of the girl in the pink dress and grinned at her, working his panty dropping mojo. She smiled back and turned to her friends, laughing as they made their way from the entrance to the crowded lounge area. Mojo accepted. Destiny wondered which one Brian was into, the girl in the blue dress or the black. Probably the black dress one—she was the prettiest, with smooth chocolate skin, slanted, smoky eyes, and bone-straight hair that hung just below her neck.
She bit her lip as he motioned for the bartender. His knee brushed against hers and she looked up at him.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, looking away again.
He frowned slightly, studying her. He looked like he wanted to say something but the bartender rushed over, smiling.
“What’ll it be?” she asked, her blonde ponytail bouncing as she talked.
“Jack and ginger for me,” Brian answered, “Jack and coke for him and a strawberry daiquiri for her.”
He grinned at Destiny, his expression teasing. She rolled her eyes at him.
“No, I’ll have a Jack and ginger too,” she corrected.
The bartender nodded and bounced away.
“Hey, you’re Destiny Michaels, right?”
Destiny turned on her stool to greet whoever it was tapping on her shoulder.
“Hi,” she said carefully, not entirely sure where she knew the guy from. His collar-length dreads framed his face, and his gold teeth glittered when he talked.
“Yeah, you did that story on me and my boys for UMusic a while back,” he said, grinning.
She stared at him, recognition finally dawning on her. The guy was part of a local rap group, the Lucky Ones. They were alright but sounded like everything else that was currently played on mainstream radio—boring. Sadly, Destiny recognized that meant they actually had good chance at making it.
“Yeah,” she smiled politely. “How are you?”
“I’m good, baby,” he said emphatically, shifting his weight, allowing his gaze to travel slowly over her.
She shifted in her seat. Both Dorian and Brian had turned slightly to assess the guy, whose name she still couldn’t remember—Rocky? Rookie? She had no clue.
“Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?”
Forgotten Rapper Guy stepped a little closer, still eyeing her hungrily. He was starting to irritate her. It was one of the things that she hated about her job. It was male dominated and too many of the guys that she interviewed tried to hit on her. She figured it was mostly because they considered her to be on elevated groupie status. It was her job to ask them questions and be interested in what they were doing. She guessed the attention confused them into thinking she somehow wanted their advances. She frowned slightly.
“Nah, I’m good, thanks,” she replied, forcing her voice to sound polite.
“Come on, what you drinking, baby?” he insisted, licking his bottom lip. His eyes swept greedily over her again.
“She said she was good,” Brian spoke up suddenly, making eye contact with him.
He didn’t raise his voice at all, but there was a severe edge to his tone and the stare he was leveling at Forgotten Rapper Guy that made him subconsciously back up. Destiny glanced at Brian then back to Dorian, who was staring at the guy too. Oh, shit.
“My bad, bruh,” he said, backing up a bit more, assessing Brian. “I was just tryin’ to buy her a drink.”
He grinned toothily. Brian’s hard expression didn’t change and Forgotten Rapper Guy backed up a little more.
“Alright, Ms. Michaels, guess I’ll see you around,” he said, finally sauntering off.
Destiny offered a little wave and turned back toward the bar, shaking her head slightly.
“You’re always attracting cornballs, Tweet,” Dorian said, frowning at her like it was her fault.
She wrinkled her brow and glanced quickly at Brian. He met her eyes, his expression unreadable and she looked away, wondering what he was thinking. He seemed a little pissed. She sighed and glanced at Dorian again. He was already scanning the crowd, no doubt looking for more women to fill his weekends with.
“Hey,” Dorian said abruptly after a few long seconds, turning his attention away from a mousy brunette who had just entered the bar. She definitely looked a little lost, like she’d somehow inadvertently wondered onto Ocean Drive.
He placed his arms on the bar and leaned toward Destiny and Brian so that they could hear him over the music that was blaring loudly from the speakers.
“Do ya’ll remember Ashley Nevins?”
They both stared at him blankly.
“You know, she was kinda nerdy, on the debate team or something, I think she was a grade ahead of you, Tweet,” Dorian prompted.
Brian shrugged, and motioned for him to continue.
“You know that story about the teacher in Tampa that had an affair with her eighth grade student and then the kid posted the sex tape on the Internet?”
Destiny nodded, it was all anyone was talking about.
“That’s her!” Dorian finished, his eyes wide.
“No way!” Destiny exclaimed, mirroring his expression.
What she did remember of Ashley was pretty normal. She was actually kind of shy and reserved. Brian laughed incredulously.
“Are you serious?” He pulled out his phone and Googled her name.
“Wow,” he said several seconds later, shaking his head in disbelief. “She looks different.”
He leaned over slightly to show Destiny the article and mug shot. She backed up a bit, concentrating on studying the picture.
“That’s crazy, right?” Dorian was saying. “I always knew she was a damned weirdo. She was always wearing Daffy Duck t-shirts.”
Destiny laughed and automatically eyed Brian.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Dude, who the hell wears Daffy Duck t-shirts, like every day? That shit is weird as hell. Daffy Duck is a cartoon….”
He
rolled his eyes impatiently when she stared at him blankly.
“Little kids like cartoons… she likes little kids…” he continued theatrically, raising his eyebrows.
Destiny laughed and looked at Brian who had dropped his head in his hands.
“You’re retarded.”
Dorian shrugged and grinned. Their drinks arrived and he quickly grabbed his.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said abruptly, still eyeing the girl in the pink dress.
Destiny watched as he made his way over to their couch, seating himself comfortably on the edge of the armrest next to the girl in the pink dress. She smiled up at him and Destiny shook her head from across the room. So much for Nichelle.
Destiny sighed and took a long sip of her own drink. She glanced at Brian again. He was looking into space, his expression unreadable, bobbing his head to the music. His face had stubble again and he looked a little tired.
“You tired?” she asked, taking another healthy swig of her drink.
The liquor was starting to course through her bloodstream and she felt herself loosening up. He shrugged, meeting her eyes.
“Not really.”
She took another sip of her drink.
“So,” he said, looking at her. “We gonna talk about New Orleans?”
She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, her cheeks heating at his bluntness. He was studying her when she looked back up at him.
“No,” she said, peering into her drink again.
Her throat was dry so she took another sip. “You can’t keep doing stuff like what you did in the living room.”
He wrinkled his brow. “What did I do in the living room?”
She stared into her cup. “You were flirting with me. Right?”
When she finally looked back at him his gaze was slightly amused. He picked up his drink and sipped it slowly, peering at her over his glass. He sat it back down on the counter, never breaking eye contact.
“I was just stating a fact,” he said finally, with a sigh. “You’re gorgeous, Destiny. You do look really, really good.”
She looked down and studied the inside of her drink like it had the solution to world peace floating around in it.
“That makes you uncomfortable,” he stated, rather than asked.
Amusement was dancing in his eyes. She was glad he thought this was so funny.
“You think this is funny?” she asked, annoyed.
He chuckled. “A little, yeah.”
She frowned and bit her lip. She looked away, toward where the DJ was situated in the far corner of the room. She heard him sigh and she looked back to him.
“Are you uncomfortable with being called gorgeous in general? Or is it just that I’m the one calling you that?” He paused deliberately. “Or is it because we kissed in New Orleans?”
She looked up at him quickly, biting her lip again.
“Hey,” he said softly, when she didn’t answer. He leaned toward her and she met his eyes. “How long have we known each other? A long time, right?”
She nodded.
“You trust me, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So why are you so bothered that I think you’re attractive? Or that I really, really liked kissing you?”
His eyes dropped to her lips when he said that and she literally felt them tingle. What the hell was wrong with her? She stared at him, her heart thudding in her chest.
“Don’t say stuff like that,” she whispered, her eyes wide.
He chuckled humorously, shaking his head at her as he made slow circles on the rim of his cup with his index finger. She looked away and when she met his eyes again his expression, as usual, was unreadable.
“It’s just… I’m not…” she finally started, then stopped, trying to gather her thoughts. “I mean, you never said you thought about me like that before. You never said anything about even noticing me like that.”
He glanced at her and laughed. It was another short humorless sound.
“I am a man, Tweet,” he said, his voice deep as he met her eyes. “I’ve always noticed.”
“Oh.” She flushed again and sipped her drink.
She didn’t know what to say to that. Of course he was a man. She wasn’t some naïve girl. But… he was Brian. She shook her head again chewing on her lip.
“You all right?” he asked after a couple minutes of silence.
She didn’t say anything and he sighed exaggeratedly.
“Don’t go getting weird on me, okay?” he said, sighing.
“Shut up.” She looked at him, her expression serious. “It just… it can’t happen again. We work because we don’t blur the lines. Okay?”
“So, you want to stay inside of the lines.”
He glanced at her, his expression giving away nothing. She nodded.
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said, his tone even. “We’ll stay inside of the lines.”
She nodded resolutely again. He stared at her for a long second before grinning and picking up his drink.
Chapter 5
“Seriously?” Destiny giggled and reached into the large box she was unpacking.
She pulled out a bright pink Care Bear and waved it in Brian’s direction. Brian rolled his eyes and caught the bear with one hand when she tossed it at him, still laughing.
“I’m sure Lex did this, trying to be funny,” he said, throwing the bear in the closet behind him.
“Yeah, right.” She eyed him, still grinning. “No one will judge you if you still sleep with Funshine Bear.”
He threw a sock at her and she quickly dodged it, laughing. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor in his room, helping him unpack. She’d been there for the past couple of hours. She was glad that after a week, things seemed to pretty much be back to normal between them.
Brian had called her early that afternoon, asking if she was still planning on helping him. It had taken them a couple of hours but they were finally almost finished. Stevie Wonder’s Innervisions was currently blaring through the speakers at her demand.
“Is there anything better than Stevie Wonder during his genius years?” she mused aloud.
She leaned back on her hands and glanced over at him. It wasn’t really even a question. Even though he loved Bill Withers, she knew he felt the same way. Stevie was universally undeniable.
“Nope,” he answered anyway, grinning at her. “Innervisions, Songs in the Key of Life….”
“And Talking Book,” she finished for him rounding out the album selection they mutually dubbed his best work. “And all of the stuff he wrote for Minnie Riperton on Perfect Angel…”
“And for Michael Jackson on Off the Wall…” he finished.
“If I had to live inside of a Stevie Wonder song, it’d be “Knocks Me off My Feet,” she mused absently.
“Your brain is abstract,” Brian said eyeing her.
“‘Abstract’ sounds like a nice way of calling me ‘weird.’”
“Nah, if I wanted to call you weird, I would just do it.”
He grinned crookedly at her.
“Shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes. She eyed his guitar sitting in the far corner of the room, still in its worn case.
“When’s the last time you played?” she asked him, nodding her head toward it.
He glanced at it and shrugged. “It’s been a while.”
He’d picked up the guitar when he was in the eighth grade. She remembered it clearly because it was around the time that his mom had basically disappeared and they moved in with his aunt Clara. He was naturally good at it, although it was only a hobby for him, a stress reliever of sorts, she guessed. She loved hearing him play though, whenever she could convince him to do it, which wasn’t often. She knew better than to even ask him now.
She rose up on her knees and peered into the nearly empty box she’d been concentrated on for the past hour. She pulled out two t-shirts and dangled them in front of her.
“Oooh, can I have this one?” she
asked for what was probably the twentieth time.
Brian shook his head without even looking up. He was folding his undershirts into a neat pile before placing them in his simple, dark brown dresser that was pushed against the wall, near the end of his king-sized bed. Everything in the room suited him—from the deep blue of his comforter to the black and white framed pictures of the sky he had still sitting against the wall where his small desk was situated, on the opposite side of the room. Destiny glanced up at him.
“You didn’t even look to see which one it is,” she pouted, examining the dark green t-shirt that had a silhouette of Nelson Mandela stamped on it.
He flicked a look her way. “Tweet, you’ve asked for every single t-shirt I own.”
“And how many have you given me?” she retorted, eyeing him pointedly.
He grinned and picked up his phone, which was buzzing. He read the text then tossed the phone next to his neat pile.
“Dorian said he’s bringing back pizza and beer.”
She ignored him.
“I find you to be very unappreciative,” she continued theatrically. She threw the shirt back into the box and eyed him. “I’ve invested my time and energy and sweat into helping you unpack and you can’t even give me an old t-shirt?”
He sighed and stared at her. “Fine, Tweet.”
He walked over and kneeled beside her. His shoulder brushed against her as he reached in and pulled the t-shirt out of the box.
“Please accept this as a token of my gratitude for making the seven minute trip over here and helping me unpack half of a box,” he said sarcastically, extending the shirt to her.
“Whatever,” she retorted indignantly, pushing at his shoulder.
He grabbed her hands and pinned them to her sides. He shook his head at her, suppressing a grin.
“We’re really going to have to do something about your violent tendencies.”
She frowned exaggeratedly, tilting her head slightly.
“We’re really going to have to do something about your ungrateful attitude,” she countered, acutely aware that he still had her hands pinned to her sides.
“We’re really going to have to do something about your smart mouth.”
Better Than Okay Page 6