Spring yanks the bottle from her grasp with her free hand and takes a big gulp. She comes up for air and growls. “I would have walked across that street and ripped him a new one.”
“What would that have accomplished?” she asks and then hiccups. It’s so cute. “They are just words.” She takes the bottle back. “Sometimes, silence holds more meaning than any words can.”
My brows rise at that statement, but I don’t say anything. What she just said tells me a lot about her. Whereas her friend would have made a scene, she chose to walk away with her head held high. Women and men both have a hard time knowing when to quit. I’ve seen it. Even though they know too much damage is done, they continue to go back to what feels comfortable. One of my friends here tonight is married to his long-time girlfriend even though they both have affairs. Then they bring it up at every fight they have. Why? Why not tuck your tail between your legs, accept defeat, and walk away? Raegan is stronger than most people I’ve met. It also tells me something about her that I like—she can keep a secret.
“Bull … shit!” Spring spits out to her previous statement.
“Okay.” Brayden steps to them and reaches for the bottle. Raegan holds it up above her head as if he isn’t tall enough to take it from her as she laughs at him. “I think you girls have had enough,” he states.
Spring snorts, but to my surprise, Raegan turns to face me, yanking Spring in the same direction since her arm is still over her shoulders. “What do you think, Karter?” My lips twitch, and my cock stirs behind my zipper at the way she says my name—her voice a little rough as if she was lying under me in bed. Fuck, I wish we were alone, and she wasn’t drunk. “Do you think I’ve had enough?” she asks with an arch of her brow in challenge.
I rub my lips to hide my smile. “I think that’s none of my business.”
“Seriously?” Brayden hisses in my direction.
I shrug. “I’m not her father.”
“But he wants to be your daddy,” Spring says through a fit of laughter.
“All right! That’s enough!” Brayden snaps, removing her arm from Raegan’s shoulders.
Her eyes hold mine as she lifts the bottle and takes another swig. When she pulls the tip away from her lips, she lets the bottle hang down by her side as she starts to stumble toward me. I look her up and down once again, letting her know that Spring wasn’t too far off in her assumption. Although I don’t want to be called daddy.
“I won’t take that from you, but I am gonna take your car keys,” I tell her as she comes to a stop.
She gives me a drunken smile that makes two dimples appear in her cheeks. “Gonna make me stay here all night?” Her words are spoken slowly as if she has to think about each one.
I take a step toward her, closing the space between us. “If I have to.”
“How do you plan on doing that?” she asks before licking her lips. Mine crave to taste them, and my hands ache to grab her hips and pull her into me.
“I have a few ideas,” I say truthfully. I like my sex rough, and I like to be the one in complete control. She’ll learn that soon enough.
She takes another step toward me, my t-shirt now rubbing against mine. “Wanna share them with me?”
I reach out and cup her face, unable to stop myself. Her eyes close for a brief second, and her lips part as she lets out a sigh. My thumb runs slowly across her lips as I lean down to whisper in her ear, making her shiver. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Raegan
I stand in the middle of the ER with shaky hands and a racing heart as I watch the TV above me. A young woman with blond hair and brown eyes stands across the street from the apartment building that is up in flames.
“We are coming to you live from Olympus apartment complex on Ross Avenue where firefighters are trying to contain the massive flames,” she says, the wind whipping her hair around. “We have been informed it is a five-alarm fire. For those of you who don’t know what that means, it’s all hands on deck.”
I grip my cell in my hand and look down to see my father is calling me. Turning away, I answer it. “Dad? Where are you?” I ask quickly.
“I got called in.”
“I’ve been watching it on TV. It’s really bad,” I say, my voice shaking.
“Raegan?” A nurse by the name of James calls for me. I lift my finger to tell him to give me a second.
“Please be careful,” I tell my dad, returning to our conversation.
“You know me. Always careful,” he says, and it makes me smile. He reminds me of this every time he starts a shift. “We still on for breakfast after your shift?”
“Absolutely,” I say, easing my worry.
“Raegan?” James yells again as he pushes a gurney with a redhead on it as she cries out in pain. The skin on half of her face melted off. Victims of the fire are being brought in as they’re pulled from the burning building.
I close my eyes, needing a second of peace from the chaos of the ER. “Just… please … be careful.” I swallow the lump in my throat.
“I promise, Raegan,” he says softly. “It’s you and me …”
“You ready, sir?” I hear a male’s voice ask him in the distance.
“Yes. One sec,” he hollers back. “I gotta go, sugar.”
I smile, feeling better already. “The hotter you get …”
He chuckles. “The faster we …” He pauses, never finishing it completely.
“Gotta say it,” I tease him. We do this every time he starts a shift.
His laughter grows before he says, “I’m not gonna say it, Raegan.”
“Fine,” I say, letting him off the hook. “I gotta go too, Dad,” I say, heading toward James as he gives me the evil glare.
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”
“Love you too,” I say but the line is already dead.
I sit straight up, running a hand through my damp, sweaty hair. I let out a long breath. I haven’t dreamed of my father in a long time. He’s always on my mind, and I miss him every day, but the last time I saw him in my dreams was well over a year ago.
That phone call …
That night …
It’s all too much.
Ignoring the tightening in my chest, I place my hand over my racing heart and the oversized t-shirt I’m wearing is drenched in sweat. I fall back down on the bed, my head landing on the soft and fluffy pillow, and run my hands down my face.
I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. My head pounds, and my chest aches. My eyes burn, and my mouth is dry. Dropping my hands to my side, I look to my right and see I’m in bed alone and the other side is still made. It’s not my bed, but I know whose it is—Karter’s.
I sit up again, much slower this time. I push back the covers to see I’m still wearing his sweatpants as well. “What happened?” I ask myself, trying to rack my brain for any events to let me know how I ended up in his bed. Alone with a pounding headache.
I get out of the bed on shaky legs. Nature calls. After I’m done, I make my way through the very silent house, looking for any sign of life, but come up with no one. After spending twenty minutes looking for my clothes, I give up. I might as well leave now before I embarrass myself any more. I drank way more than I should have last night. It had been over three months since I had the chance to drink, and I took advantage of it, all right.
I find my purse, keys, and bag of donuts on his kitchen counter. Everything else is spotless just like it was last night, but my shoes and socks are still by his front door where I took them off. I had placed my clothes in his bathroom, but there was no sign of them in there now. I couldn’t have moved then, could I?
I dig into my paper sack for the cake donut with chocolate icing and decorative sprinkles and take a huge bite out of it.
“Hmm,” I moan, already feeling better. Thank God I have three more of these. Not wanting to waste another minute, afraid Karter may appear, I grab my stuff off the counter and rush out the front door to my Jeep.
<
br /> “What the …?” I come to a stop on his porch. I don’t see my white Jeep on the road. When I pulled up last night, a ton of cars were already lining the driveway and street. I had to park about three houses down, but now it’s gone.
Did I try to leave? Did I leave and come back?
Stepping off his porch and walking down his walkway as it curves to the right, more of the driveway comes into view and I see a Jeep parked in front of his garage. It’s white with a black top and big beefy tires with flat black wheels. It looks like mine, but that’s not where I parked it … lifting my keys, I hit the unlock button, and the lights flash as I hear the doors unlock. Yep—it’s mine. Without wasting any more time, I climb in the driver’s seat and get the hell out of there.
***
Saturday night is always busy in the ER. And it reminds me why I rarely drink on my nights off when I have to work the following day. Hangovers suck ass.
I’m sitting behind the nurses’ station filling out paperwork. That headache from this morning still lingers, no matter how much Advil I have taken throughout the day, and the little afternoon nap I took. Spring plops down beside me. “Man, Brayden was so pissed last night,” she says, laughing.
“Why?” I ask without looking over at her.
“Because of how drunk I was.”
“Since when does he tell you what you can and can’t do?” I ask, not really remembering much even when she was there. I remember something about Karter saying we crashed an all guys’ night. And the bottle of Fireball. Then I vaguely remember drinking out of a champagne bottle. Which is strange because I hate champagne. But that would explain the headache.
One thing is for certain about last night—I didn’t have sex. How do I know? I woke up dressed in his clothes, and his side of the bed was made. Meaning, I was probably an annoying drunk, and he left me in there to get away from me. Hell, for all I know, he left me last night and went to another woman’s house. I don’t put anything past a man. Or a woman, for that matter.
And although I don’t consider myself a slut, I do believe that sometimes you just need to get laid.
“His dad’s an alcoholic,” she says, answering my question and no longer laughing. “He just doesn’t like to see people in that state, I guess.”
I don’t respond because I know all of that. I had just forgotten. “So what happened between you and Karter?” she asks, nudging my arm playfully.
“Nothing,” I respond.
She snorts. “You don’t have to lie to me, girl. I saw the way you two were looking at one another.”
I shake my head, my eyes still on the paperwork that crowds the desk. “I’m not lying. Although I’m not sure about all the events of last night, I do know that I didn’t get laid,” I say sadly. I thought he was interested, for sure. Especially after he asked me out—not once, but twice. So what the hell happened? I must have made a complete ass of myself for him to turn me down.
“Wasn’t for lack of trying.”
My head snaps up, and I look right into a set of gray eyes. “Karter!” I squeal as I jump up to my feet. “What are you doing here?” I ask in a rush of panic. Did I tell him last night to come see me at work tonight? God, why can’t I remember what all happened? Damn you, Fireball!
He looks as good as he did last night. But the sexiest thing he is wearing is his smile. He is smiling down at me as his eyes look me up and down as if he’s seen me naked, and my pulse quickens. They linger on my breasts, and my nipples betray me as they harden. Thank God I have a bra on and a shirt under my scrubs.
When his eyes finally make their way back up to mine, he tosses a plastic bag on the desk. “I spoke to Brayden earlier, and he said you two were working tonight. I thought I’d bring you your clothes.”
I blush as I remember trying to find them this morning. “I didn’t know where they were—”
“They were in the dryer. I washed them for you.”
“Oh,” I say surprised by that. “Thank you,” I add, remembering my manners. “Did I get sick?” I ask although I feel like I may get sick at this very moment. This is humiliating.
“No.” He shakes his head. “You had walked in soaked from the storm, and I offered you my sweatpants and t-shirt. I figured the least I could do would be to wash them for you.”
I nod my head once as I bite my bottom lip. Yep, the part where I stood outside in the rain watching Steve kiss another woman and tell her he loved her, I remember. Then I went straight to the liquor store just in time before closing and got the Fireball before heading to the party—at his house.
Spring laughs, and I cut her a look. “Don’t you have a patient to check on?” I snap.
She stands slowly and winks at me before she walks away. I close my eyes for a brief second and take a deep breath before I turn back to face him. “About last night. I’m sorry …”
“No need for apologies,” he says, still smiling at me. It makes me shift uncomfortably. It’s as if he knows a secret about me, and I hate that I don’t know what it is. I tend to babble when I’m drunk. That’s mainly why I don’t do it often.
I pick up the papers I was looking over and start rearranging them on the desk as if they go in a particular order. “What … uh … um.” I pause and take a deep breath. When I’ve collected my thoughts, I look him in the eyes. Be strong! “What did I do?” I just need to know. What’s done is done. I just need to know if I should steer clear of him for the rest of my life due to embarrassment or just for the next twenty years.
His gray eyes light up as they fall to my chest again, and I grip the papers so tightly they crinkle. “That bad, huh?” I ask grimly.
His laugh doesn’t soothe my worries. “Not bad at all.”
He’s lying. Of course, I made an ass of myself. At least he said I didn’t puke on his furniture or on him. That would be the worst. Or I could have humped his leg. The man looks better than any guy should be allowed. Even now, he’s dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a navy blue t-shirt that has yellow letters reading DFD on it with the number 22. It hugs his muscular arms so tightly that it leaves nothing to the imagination. You can see every ripple, every curve of muscle. His hair looks damp as if he just showered and pieces hang over almost into his eyes.
“Well … thank you for bringing me my clothes,” I say, dropping the papers again and picking up the sack that contains my belongings.
“I have a confession to make,” he says, his tone now serious.
I straighten my back. “Okay,” I say slowly. Shit! This is it! He’s gonna tell me what I did last night, and I’m gonna have to hide under this desk like I’m four.
He leans forward, his face inches from mine, and I lick my lips without thought. His eyes watch the motion and then are back on mine. “I only brought you those in hopes you would do something for me in return.”
Do something for him? “What could I possibly do for you?” I ask as the roughness of his voice makes my heart pick up.
A slow smile spreads across his face. “I can think of many things, but at the moment, I only want to collect on one.” I swallow nervously but nod for him to continue because I want to hear that voice some more. “I want you to have dinner with me.”
Dinner? That wasn’t what I was expecting, but it’s still more than I’m willing to give. Why go out with this guy for one dinner? It won’t lead anywhere, and we’ll both be wasting our time. No matter how sexy he is.
“I can’t,” I finally say.
The smile drops off his lips, and he frowns. “It’s just dinner. Not like I’m asking for a kidney,” he says sounding, disappointed.
“No,” I say firmly this time. It can’t happen. I’m not what he wants. And on the crazy chance that I am, I can’t date him. I can’t do that to myself. I dated Steve because he was safe. I knew what I got when he went to work. Karter’s job is unpredictable.
He lets out a huff and grabs the plastic sack out of my hands. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play it.” And then turns to walk
away.
“Hey, wait,” I call out, coming out from behind the nurses’ station. “What about my clothes?”
“Changed my mind,” he says simply, not even bothering to turn to face me as he walks right out the front sliding glass doors.
Chapter 5
Karter
“Fifty-five.”
How could she say no to dinner? Dinner? Just two people having food while enjoying each other’s company. Preferably sober.
“Fifty-six,” Jakob says as he stands over me.
“She said no,” I say out loud.
“Yeah”—he snorts—“women do that.”
I breathe out and lower my face to the floor before pushing myself back up. “Fifty-seven.” He counts. “Come on, buddy. You’re slacking today.”
“But why would she say no?” I ask as if he has an answer.
“Fifty-eight.”
He’s ignoring me.
“I mean, she wanted me last night,” I say with a nod of my head as I lower and push myself up again.
“But you turned her down,” he reminds me. “Fifty-nine.”
“She doesn’t even remember that,” I growl doing another push-up.
“Sixty.” He continues to count. “That you know of.”
No, I know. I heard her talking to Spring while sitting behind the nurses’ station earlier. She has no clue …
“Sixty-one.”
“Will you quit counting?” I snap, coming to a stop. I sit up on my knees.
He throws his hands up in the air. “You need to calm down, man.”
Calm down? I had two cold showers last night and two more today. I wish I could say I didn’t jack off while taking those, but that would be a lie. And even that hasn’t eased what I went through last night with her.
Brent, the last guy, walks out my front door, letting me know he is planning another guys’ night, and I nod as if I care. When I shut the door, I turn around to find Raegan standing in the middle of the living room. Holding an empty bottle of champagne in her right hand, she’s looking at me through glassy eyes. My t-shirt hangs off one shoulder, revealing the thin strap of her nude bra, and my first thought is I wonder if her panties match?
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