Hot Shot

by Karina Halle

  “No,” she says. “But I’ve seen enough breakups in here to know what it looks like. Though I did catch what she said about Del. You know, it’s totally none of my business, but I always thought the two of you would have ended up together.”

  I stare at her for a moment and the words I told Del last night ring through my head. I assumed that we would end up together at some point.

  I swallow hard. “Thanks for the drink.”

  “Anytime, Fox,” she says and walks off. It’s then that I noticed her ring finger. She’s married. Of course she is, why wouldn’t she be? At my age everyone is either settling down or has already settled down a long time ago.

  Obviously, not me though. Obviously, because the entire world thinks something that isn’t even remotely true.

  I finish the whisky in one gulp and don’t even feel the burn.

  Then I get Pam to bring me another.

  And another.

  Until I look and see Maverick standing over me, Riley at his side.

  “You okay, brother?” Mav asks, looking me over.

  I blink at him. Everything has slowed but at least the anger is buried somewhere under layers of alcohol. “What are you doing here?”

  “Pam called me,” Mav says. “Says you needed a ride home.”

  I look back at the bar where Pam turns her back to me.

  I sigh. “Yeah I guess I shouldn’t drive.” I get to my feet unsteadily and Mav puts his hand out to help but I shove him back. “I’m fine. Fuck.”

  “I don’t know,” Riley says. “Seems you’ve really cranked that asshole dial tonight.”

  I glare at her. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” I look at Mav. “I’ll leave this godawful place with you but I’m not going home.”

  “Okay,” he says uncertainly. “Where are we going?”

  “To The Bear Trap. I need to talk to Del.”

  He and Riley raise their brows in unison and exchange a glance.

  “I need to figure something out,” I go on. “I’ll pick up my Jeep from here tomorrow.”

  To their credit, they don’t ask me what I want to talk to Del about. Maybe they’re already assuming.

  “So what happened in there?” Riley asks as we get in Maverick’s truck. “With Julie. Pam said she had been in there and now there’s all this drunken drowning of the sorrows and shit.”

  “Anyone ever tell you how eloquent you are?” I ask.

  “Shut up.”

  “Fox,” Mav warns. “Be nice to the lady.”

  Riley laughs. We all know she’s proud to not be a lady.

  I grind my teeth together, not wanting to say another word about all this. But, eventually, just as we pull into The Bear Trap parking lot, it comes out. “Julie broke up with me.”

  “Oh no,” Riley says softly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, bro,” Maverick says, putting the truck into park. “That’s a fucking shitty deal. What happened?”

  I open the door and get out. “She just didn’t see a future with me, that’s all.”

  As we walk toward the bar, Johnny Cash booming through the walls, Mav jokes, “Was it because you equated your dick to a firehose?”

  “What?” Riley asks, wide-eyed.

  “Nothing,” I tell her. “Just that Mav thinks all firefighters have a fascination with hoses.”

  “When you were young you’d piss on any fire you saw,” he points out.

  He’s got me there. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I didn’t even fuck her.”

  “What?” Riley says again, even louder than before as we pause outside the front door to the bar.

  “Don’t look so surprised,” I tell her. “I’m not like Maverick.”

  “Hey,” he whines. “That was a low-blow.”

  “Whatever, man-whore,” she says jokingly, then wraps her hands around the back of his neck and gives him a kiss.

  “Fuck this,” I say, pulling open the door and stepping into the bar, leaving the happy couple to their face-sucking on the front steps.

  Then I see her. Del, in her usual place, on the other side of the bar. She’s talking to some guy I don’t know, smiling at him and it’s hard to tell if that’s the smile she gives to be nice or the smile she gives when she likes you. With Del you see what you want to see.

  And that’s when I feel it.

  I actually feel it.

  A pang of jealousy. Hot, like a poker into my chest, causing my heart to pick up the pace. Maybe that feeling has always been there when I’ve seen Del talk to another guy but now I think I’m recognizing it for what it is.

  But so what? Why does that have to mean anything?

  And then she sees me staring at her. Our eyes lock and I feel something else between us, a current of fire that flickers and then wanes and then dissolves into ash.

  Maybe coming here was a bad idea. Maybe I’m seeing things that aren’t really there as a way to make sense of everything that just happened with Julie.

  Del mouths, “hi” to me and I’m suddenly hit with the realization that things between us are changing and more than that, they’ve been changing for some time. In the past I would normally head right into the bar, pull up a stool and start talking to her about who knows what, while she’d hand me a beer and tell me about her day.

  Now it feels like that version of us is something I’m not sure will ever come back.

  I jump, startled, when Maverick claps a hand down on my shoulder. “Come on,” he says to me. “Let’s get you a drink.”

  We head over to Del.

  5

  Delilah

  One a.m.

  I should be home in bed by now.

  But I’m not.

  Because even though I closed the bar at midnight, it still has one last customer, sitting in a chair by the pool table with a cue in one hand, a drink in the other, staring blankly at nothing.

  I haven’t seen Fox in such a peculiar mood in a long time. He’s drunk for sure, but there’s something else affecting him. Tonight was pretty busy for a Monday so I didn’t have a lot of time to talk to him. For the most part, he was playing round after round of pool with Mav and Riley and drinking like a fish.

  Then, when everyone started to go home, he told them that he’d go later and catch a cab. I totally expected them to insist he come with them and there was something that Riley was trying to telegraph with her eyes that I couldn’t quite pick up on, but they left and then pretty soon it was just me and Fox as the last people standing.

  Only difference between us is I’m stone cold sober and he is very much not.

  As if he can read my thoughts, Fox looks up from across the room and meets my eyes.

  “You’re off-duty now,” he says in a low voice. “Have a drink with me.”

  I debate this for a moment then give in. “Okay. But just one.”

  I pour myself a big glass of red wine and then come around the bar, walking over to him. “I’d offer you something but I dare say you’ve had enough.”

  He raises his glass of whisky at me and nods, looking me in the eye. “You are quite astute. Cheers.”

  I go to clink the glass against his, looking down for a moment to aim and he yanks his glass back toward him in objection.

  “Hey,” he says, sounding hurt. “You’re supposed to look me in the eye as you do that. Seven years bad sex if you don’t.”

  I laugh softly and force myself to look back into his eyes. Honestly, it’s the most natural thing in the world. I could look at them forever when we’re just like this.

  Of course I have to fuck it up and make it all awkward by saying, “Well we wouldn’t want to mess anything up with Julie, would we?”

  His expression falls, looking pained.

  I quickly slam the drink against his and then take a large gulp of wine. “You know, because of the seven years of bad sex thing,” I add on.

  He nods slowly, seeming to think that over and then has a sip of his drink. “Yeah. Well. We broke up.”

&nb
sp; He says it so easily that I’m not sure I heard him correctly.

  “What?”

  “We broke up.” He sighs and sinks back into his chair, shaking his head. “Or she broke up with me. Just what I fucking needed, you know? One minute you think things are going well and the next…”

  I’m not sure what to say to him but I’m not so selfish that I don’t recognize he’s in pain. No wonder he’s drinking like he is. He must have really liked her. I ignore the squeeze in my chest and force myself to be his friend right now.

  “I’m so sorry,” I tell him. I place the wine on the ledge above his chair and crouch down so I’m at his level, putting my hand on his knee and hoping it’s as innocent as it seems. “You must have really liked her.”

  “I thought I did,” he says gruffly, his eyes drifting to my hand. Should I move it? Keep it there? “At least I wanted to. I thought maybe…we had a future together. I know that’s pretty fucking lame for a guy to say but…”

  My heart pangs at that but I give his knee a soft squeeze. “It’s not lame, Fox. It’s normal. You should want to find someone to love and settle down with. We’re not getting any younger and everyone else around us seems to be finding someone...”

  He glances at me curiously, his eyes both wired and glazed at once. “What about you?”

  “Me?” I get to my feet, hating when this question is thrust on me, no matter who is doing the asking. “I’m fine.”

  “You really oughta get a tattoo of that somewhere,” he says, getting to his feet as well and resting the cue against the table. “Maybe on your forehead.” He reaches out and runs his thumb above my brow.

  I try to give him a look but he just physically raises my brows instead so I can’t frown.

  “Very funny,” I tell him, though I’m secretly enjoying his touch.

  “I’m serious, Del,” he says and just like that a switch goes off behind his eyes, the hint of playfulness in them fading to something sharp. “Why are you single? You’re so beautiful. So smart. So funny. You make everyone around you feel good. So fucking good.”

  Then he lets his hand drop from my face, down to my neck. I’m not breathing as he runs his large, warm palm down my arm, then over to my waist. With one hand slipping to the small of my back, he finishes his whisky, his eyes never leaving mine as he places the empty glass on the pool table.

  “You confuse me,” he says, his voice much lower now, throatier, as the distance between us closes in. His fingers press against my back until I find myself nearly held against him, only a few inches keeping our bodies apart. I can feel the heat radiate from him, smell his heady scent of pine and soap. I’m almost dizzy.

  “I confuse you?” I whisper.

  He’s confusing me. What is he even doing saying these things, standing this close?

  Touching me like this.

  “The way you make me feel,” he says, his eyes flashing with his words. “How can anyone not want to feel that way?”

  Maybe I don’t want anyone else to begin with. But I don’t say that. Instead I have the courage to ask him, “How do I…make you feel?”

  He peers down at me, thinking it over as his eyes search mine, looking deep emerald in the dim bar lighting. “I don’t know,” he says slowly, licking his lips. I try not to stare, try not to want to kiss them. “It’s like…in my head and my heart, there’s fire that I can’t control. It’s like nothing in this world, nothing that I’ve seen. The flames are black, sticky, and they rage and it’s just this twisting, churning mess inside and I can’t see straight, I can’t think straight and then, then…I’m with you Del and all of that goes away. The pain fades. You bring me peace. It doesn’t last but when I get it…it makes this life manageable. You just make me fucking happy, whatever being happy is.”

  Whoa.

  I don’t know what to say, what to think. I’ve never had Fox unload like this before and I’m both horribly flattered that I give him peace and deeply troubled that he needs it to begin with. I mean, I know how messed up Fox can be at times but I honestly didn’t think it was this bad, that he has this black fire raging inside him all the time, something he can’t put out.

  “I had no idea,” I finally say, overly conscious of how his gaze has now dropped to my lips.

  “I didn’t think you would,” he says. “But it’s the truth. Fuck knows if I’ll find that with anyone now.”

  I swallow hard. “So why did she break up with you? Did she say?”

  He gives me a lopsided smile. “She did. She says I’m in love with you.”

  What?

  Did he just say what I think he said?

  Holy fuck.

  My stomach summersaults over and over and over again.

  “That’s crazy,” I whisper, my words barely audible as I stare up into his eyes, my heart pounding so hard that I feel like I’m shaking inside, that whatever is holding me together is about to come loose.

  “I know it is,” he says, voice hoarse. “Completely crazy.” His other hand slides behind the back of my neck, his long strong fingers applying pressure against my skin. I fight the urge to let my lids droop, to sink into this feeling of him holding me like he’s never held me before. “But now I’m looking at you Del, and I’m feeling crazy. I’m wondering what it would be like. I just need to know.”

  Know what?

  But before I have a chance to vocalize it, he’s pulling me so I’m right flush against him, our bodies pressed against each other with enough heat to start a fire and then he’s leaning in closer and closer, his eyes fluttering closed just before his lips brush against mine.

  I melt.

  From my lips, down my spine, to my toes I’m dissolving as he kisses me, a slow, gentle press of his lips that slowly opens, deepens, until his tongue slides against mine and my world is forever changed.

  My heart feels open and clear and wide as a night sky and fireworks are exploding, lighting me up inside.

  This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.

  But it is.

  Fox is kissing me.

  He’s kissing me.

  His mouth open, his kiss soft, the easy, wet slide of his tongue, the gentle pressure of his lips. He’s holding me tighter and I feel his erection against my hip and I’m just gone, I’m gone.

  I can’t handle this.

  And yet I am.

  I’m kissing him back, tentatively because I’m afraid what might happen if I let loose, if I let all these years of pent-up feelings out. I might just devour him.

  “Del,” he says, voice choked, as he pulls back enough so that his lips brush mine as he speaks. I feel the ache and need in his voice all the way to my bones. “I need you. I need this.”

  I can’t even speak, I can only whimper, my body winding around itself, tighter and tighter as his hand drops to the button of my jean shorts and undoes it.

  Wait, wait, wait.

  A thin voice echoes through my head.

  Rebound. You’re a rebound.

  And I know I should listen to that voice. I know I should put my hand on Fox’s chest and push him back. I know that he’s upset and drunk and that he’s probably not thinking straight and I’m just a rebound, just the right girl at the right time.

  But I don’t listen to that voice. Because I’ve wanted this, needed this and never in a million years did I actually believe this would happen.

  So I’m taking this for all it is, for all Fox has got.

  I grab him, my hand at the back of his neck, the other making a fist in his shirt and I hold him next to me, the massive width of his firm chest pressing against mine, our mouths working against each other as the hunger grows.

  Fuck, he tastes amazing. Our kisses are dark magic, this easy rhythm that we both fall into, kisses that burn in my blood and light me on fire. I’m growing wild along with him, knowing that if we continue we’ll never be tamed.

  I don’t want to be tamed tonight.

  I want to be taken and let loose, feral and out of con
trol.

  “Del,” he groans into my mouth. “Fuck…god, I need you.”

  Each of his words and desperate sounds throttle me, shaking me until I know I’m wet already between my legs.

  He knows too as he slips his large hand into my underwear, the brush of his rough fingers sliding down between my legs causing me to ache with need.

  I can’t believe this is happening.

  He has his hand down my shorts, he’s…

  My thoughts falter as his thick finger slides along my clit and my body immediately melts into his hand, needing more, wanting more. I’d never had the need to get off strike me like this before, like a match against the striker.

  I’ve had years of playing it safe.

  I want him to throw gasoline on the fire.

  “Fuck me,” I whisper as I pull back and stare into his eyes, his eyes which are drowning with desire, making me feel like he’s close to just devouring me.

  “Jesus,” he swears, biting down on my neck, the pain sweet.

  My body is greedy for him. His fingers play gently along my clit, teasing like fluttery wings, before the they plunge up inside me.

  A gasp escapes my mouth as I spread around him.

  “Oh god,” he says thickly, bringing his lips back to mine. “You sound like a fucking angel.” Then he lowers his head to my breast, pulling the neckline of my shirt to the side until my nipple is exposed and hardening in the air. His lips gently suck at the tip before he draws it into his mouth in one long, hard pull.

  My back is arching for more and breathless groans are coaxed out of me. We're still standing in the middle of the bar and I'm not sure how much more I can take like this. I'm getting desperate for him in a way I never thought possible, an aching need that's clawing its way up through my core, turning every part of my body into an addict.

  He pinches my nipple between his teeth and, as he does so, plunges his fingers back inside me, three of them this time. I expand around him, needing more. The desire is so acute that it feels like I’m on drugs, like if I don’t get off, if I don’t get him inside me, I might die.

  “Fuck,” he growls, yanking down my shorts and underwear, then he’s grabbing me around the waist and lifting me up so I’m sitting on the pool table, my shorts and underwear dangling off one foot.