Drift

by Anna Brooks

  When we would sit on my bed together and watch soap operas on the grainy, twelve-inch TV on my dresser, she’d tell me that I should have a life like the women on those programs. I should be with a man who would shoot his brother if he tried to harm me. The kind of guy who cherishes me.

  That’s what motivates me to keep going. And with Carter, not only do I really, really like him, but I feel like this is part of what my mom wanted for me. She wanted me to be happy so I’d be doing her a disservice if I ignored this thing between Carter and me.

  I get ready fast and take twenty minutes to curl my hair, then another five doing makeup. Carter knocks on my door just as I’m applying my gloss, and I slide my Keds on as I’m hopping to the door.

  “You look incredible.” He hands me a single rose, and I duck my head as I take it from him, oddly shy around him even though he walked me to my door less than an hour ago after basically telling me he was giving me one of his cars. One of… because he has more than one car. I’m not taking it, but just the fact that he’d offer is insane.

  “Thank you.” I find a cup to put the flower in and set it in the center of my kitchen table. “You look really good yourself.” He’s always so handsome, but tonight, instead of his usual board shorts and t-shirt, he’s wearing a pair of gray dress pants and a turquoise short-sleeved button shirt. The color brings out the brightness in his eyes and makes his skin look even tanner.

  “Did I tell you I missed you when I was gone?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We need to leave; otherwise, I’m gonna shove that skirt up and bend you over the table.”

  I bite my lip when the thought of that does more to turn me on than deter me. “Billie.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  He holds his hand out for me, and I love how he automatically reaches for me. We get outside, and he leads me to a dark silver car. “Is this yours?”

  “Yeah, but you can drive it instead of taking the bus.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  He gives my hand a gentle but firm squeeze. “It’s not up for discussion. You aren’t taking the bus anymore, so don’t even argue.”

  “But it’s… it looks really expensive.”

  “That’s ’cause it is.”

  “What is it?”

  “Audi.”

  I pause at the door and admire the dark silver paint and sleek lines. “It’s pretty.”

  “Gotta be able to hold a candle to the only woman who’s ever been in it.” Then he opens my door and helps lower me into the seat, which is so low I feel like I’m sitting on the curb.

  He presses a button and then turns the volume down on the radio, resting his hand on my thigh when he’s not shifting. Perfect.

  I clear my throat, and with triumph, I tell him, “I don’t know how to drive one of these, so I guess I’ll just have to take the bus.”

  He laughs, the beautiful sound bouncing off the black leather interior. “I’ll teach you, but in the meantime, I’ll give you the WRX.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A car. Hey, I should have asked before, but is there any kind of food you don’t like?”

  He’s a good subject changer. “Sushi.” I shiver. “I hate sushi.”

  “You ever tried it before?”

  “Yes, and I swear, Carter, I threw up in my mouth. It was disgusting.”

  He looks over at me while we’re at a stoplight. “Noted.”

  “But other than that, I’m not picky, which you’ve obviously seen.”

  “I do love the way you devour food, honey.”

  “I think I like it a little too much.”

  He snorts. “Not sure that’s possible.”

  “It totally is. I wouldn’t be so… round if I didn’t eat so much.”

  His head jerks back and hits the headrest. “You didn’t just fuckin’ say that,” he mumbles under his breath, taking a corner sharp enough to make my butt slide on the leather seat. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful. Every single inch of you and every part of you. I love that you enjoy food as much as I do, and I fuckin’ love your body. Don’t talk shit about yourself like that, got me?”

  I dreamed of a perfect man. When I was about fifteen, when things were getting worse and out of control, was when it started. I dreamed that one day I’d have a man who loved me for who I was and would never want to hurt me. But as the years went on, I gave up on that dream. Until now. I don’t want to jinx it, but I think I found him. I think maybe my dream might come true after all. “Yeah,” I whisper. “I got you.”

  “Good.”

  He pulls up to the front of a restaurant that reminds me a little bit of the White House, where a valet comes and opens my door. I’m so out of my element because I should get out, but I’m afraid I’m going to flash something with how low this car is. Luckily, Carter meets me around and helps me out of the car by basically pulling me up, then he takes my arm as we walk inside. “Mr. Cane. Nice to see you this evening. Follow me, your table is ready.”

  I glance up at him and wonder how they know who he is and why he doesn’t seem weirded out by the fact that they call him mister as we’re led to the back and seated. The tables are all square and have black tablecloths and white napkins folded like a piece of origami. Shiny silverware and fancy wine glasses are on opposite sides of each other, and a single silver candle sits in the middle of the place settings. A waiter comes over, wearing black pants and a crisp white shirt, and offers a smile, then silently pours us each a glass of wine and walks away.

  There are no menus at the table, nor did the hostess hand us one. Carter lifts his glass and tips it toward me. I do the same, and when the glasses clink together, he licks his lips. “Cheers, baby.” How he manages to make me always want to jump his bones is crazy.

  I want to ask him so much, but a man in a suit with salt and pepper hair comes up to our table, and Carter stands. “Hey, man. How’s it goin’?” They shake hands, and he introduces me immediately. “This is my girl, Billie. Honey, this is my old manager, Jack Rodriguez.”

  Manager?

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” I answer with a smile.

  He raises a brow, and Carter smirks. “Shut it.”

  Jack holds his hands up. “I didn’t say a word.”

  “No, but you were going to.”

  My eyes bounce back and forth like I’m watching a ping-pong match.

  “Was not.”

  “Jack.” That’s all Carter says before Jack laughs.

  “Good to see, Car, really good to see. That’s all I’m gonna say.”

  The waiter comes to our table, and Jack takes a step back. “We’ll talk soon. It was nice meeting you, Billie.”

  “Your salads.” Plates are set in front of us as Carter sits back down.

  When the waiter walks away, I finally give in and ask, “Why does everyone seem to know you, and how come our food is being brought to us without us even looking at a menu? And why did you have a manager?”

  “I called ahead and I used to surf.”

  “Are you always so forthcoming with information?”

  He stabs his fork in the lettuce. “You don’t even have the slightest idea how much you’ve gotten from me. More than anyone, babe. I mean that. Trust me to take this where I know it needs to go.”

  The salad is super flavorful, and I mumble something of an agreement as I’m chewing because he hasn’t steered me wrong so far. He hasn’t pushed me for details about me or my past, so I need to stop doing that to him.

  He’s able to successfully steer the conversation in a positive direction as we discuss my audition, and he tells me about the senator’s event he’s been working on. The waiter brings our dinner, and the special for the evening is beef wellington. I moan and tell Carter I’ve never had a more delicious piece of meat in my mouth before.

  He raises his brows, and says, “We’ll be changing that tonight.”

  I should have known better, but with the way
it melted in my mouth, I didn’t even think before I said it. “You really do find a way to turn everything into a sexual innuendo.”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “Whatever, perv.”

  He winks, and we finish eating, then I pass on dessert. Questions about the events of our dinner seem invalid at this point. As we’re driving away from the restaurant, he asks, “You still good to go grab a drink at House?”

  “Yes.” I get giddy in my seat, excited to finally see the inside of this bar. The glass of wine I sipped during dinner helps, too. “I’ve always wanted to go inside, but I wasn’t going to pay the cover just to walk around. I was tempted when I turned twenty-one, but then decided against it.”

  “When was your birthday?”

  I wave my hand in the air. “Almost a year ago.”

  He parks the car in the gated parking lot and brings his hand up to my face. “You’re just a baby.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Probably too old for you.” He pulls me closer and gently kisses me. “Twenty-eight.” He takes the keys out of the ignition and tells me to wait, then comes around and helps me out, which I’m grateful for. I’d be stuck if he didn’t since I have an extra few pounds in my belly now.

  When we walk to the front of the house turned bar, he bypasses the line and simply does a chin lift with the bouncer as he opens the door for me. The moment I step foot inside the bar, he has his hand at my waist and is leading me through the crowd.

  I peek in some of the rooms as we pass. He stops at one, and we laugh as two guys are having a dance off on one of those arcade games. “Come on, let’s get a drink.”

  Following him to the other end of the house, I blink to adjust to the dimness of the room we just walked into. A DJ sits atop a small part of the stage in front of a crowded dance floor. “What do you want to drink?”

  I didn’t even realize we stopped, so I turn to him. “Uh… something fruity?”

  He licks his lips and pulls me closer to him. “Corona and… sex on the beach.”

  “A what?” I giggle as the bartender walks away.

  “Sex on the beach. You’ll like it. Fruity and not too strong. I plan to get you off a lot tonight, and if you’re too drunk, then that can’t happen.”

  “Carter.” I slap his chest and lean into him. “Don’t say things like that.”

  “Why?” He sets some cash on the bar top and takes our drinks. “It’s true.”

  How does he manage to give me the world just by looking at me? I feel so… free with him. Safe and cherished. I wish it was the same for him, but even through the great dinner, he still had that invisible shield up. I want to be able to break through it, but until the time is right, I’ll just have to wait. I take my drink and suck up a tentative sip, the sweet and slightly tart flavors tantalizing my taste buds. “Okay, this is really good.”

  “Told ya.”

  “Thank you.”

  He brushes some of my hair off my shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

  I don’t hold back and lean up on the tips of my tennies to kiss him. He grabs me tighter and deepens the kiss, making me moan against him. I’m bumped into by a drunk girl, “Shit. Sorry. Oh em gee. You’re so cute.” She points at my dress. “I wish I could pull that look off. Where’s the bathroom?”

  Carter points down the hallway, and she stumbles as she walks away. “Not many people can pull this off, but you do make it look mighty fine, baby.” He traces the hem of the pink fabric. I wasn’t sure if I’d be fancy enough with my white Keds, but he didn’t even blink when he opened my door. “Come on, I wanna show you something.”

  He leads me even farther into the house, an old Queen Anne, and a gust of wind hits me as we exit to the backyard. “Is this where they have concerts?”

  “Yeah. Have you ever gone to the roof of our apartment building and watched one?”

  “No. I hear the music, though, sometimes.” I like the busyness of where I live. It makes me feel not as alone as I really am.

  His arm snakes around my waist and pulls me back as a slew of people crosses the path in front of us. The girls are all dressed in super-short skirts and have their boobs hanging out. I peek down at my dress and suddenly feel homely. “I’ll have to take you up there sometime. It’s pretty rad, to be honest.”

  I snort I laugh so hard when he says rad. He puts me in a gentle headlock and messes up my hair, then kisses me again before we continue down the path. The backyard looks like an outdoor arena; lighted stage, grassy area in the front, and toward the back are rows and rows of seats. But at the side, tables line the perimeter, and that’s where he’s leading me.

  “Shit, sorry. Didn’t know they were gonna be here tonight.” He walks me closer to the stage and to a table with a few other people at it. “Guys, this is Billie. Billie this is Q, Gio, and Brenden.”

  “Hey, guys. Nice to meet you.” I greet shyly.

  Gio smiles, his white teeth bling against his tan skin. “Such a quiet voice for a girl with such big—”

  Carter reaches around me and slaps Gio upside his head. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “What? You can’t tell me you’ve never heard that saying.”

  “I have, but you need to keep your fuckin’ eyes off and your mouth shut before I do it for you.”

  “What saying?” I take a sip of my drink. “The one about how the bigger the boobs are, the louder we talk?”

  “Christ,” Carter mumbles.

  Gio smirks, and it makes him even more handsome. “Yeah, that one.”

  I put a hand on Carter’s arm and whisper loudly, “You don’t have any complaints about how loud I can get, do you?”

  The other guys at the table howl out in laughter, and Carter drops his head. Gio slowly nods as a smile creeps up his lips. “Do you have a sister?”

  “Nope.”

  The crowd around us starts cheering, and I’m pulled back into Carter’s arms. “I know you’re tipsy, and you know I’m here so I’d never let anything happen to you, but you need to watch how you talk to guys you don’t even know.”

  I turn around. “I grew up with the worst kind of men you could think of, Carter. Trust me, I might not look it, but I can hold my own, and I have good judgment.” I was apprehensive of him at first, but not because I was afraid of him. It was more because I didn’t think someone like him could like little old me. “I know your friends aren’t gonna hurt me. I would never say something like that to a stranger.”

  “Good. And in that case, we’re gonna see just how loud you can get later.”

  Carter

  “Oh my gosh, is this Broken Heart Renegades?”

  “Yeah, I thought you might like to see them.” They’re one of the hottest crossover country/pop bands out right now.

  She kisses me quick. “Thank you!”

  She continually amazes me. I was ready to beat the shit out of Gio, but the verbal smackdown she laid on him was even better.

  The table we’re at is one reserved for Royal because when there’s a concert, there’s usually someone here watching. “Dude.” Brenden nods his head at Billie, who’s gone a couple of feet in front of me and is swaying to the music.

  “I know.”

  “So she’s why you’ve been so edgy lately?” Gio accuses as he looks in the direction of Billie.

  That’s one way to put it. “Yup.”

  “I’m thrilled for you, man. She seems sweet, she’s beautiful, and she’s got—”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Watch your mouth, Gio. I’m not fuckin’ around.”

  He holds his hands up. “I was going to say… she’s got an innocent quality to her that makes you just wanna protect her. Hard to find nowadays.”

  “For sure.”

  The band switches the beat, and the music slows. Billie turns to me and pouts, holding her hands together in front of her chest. “Think your girl wants you to dance with her.”

  “No shit.”

  “If you don’t want to, I will.”


  I punch Gio in the stomach as I walk by him and pull Billie into my arms. “Hi.”

  “Hi yourself, handsome.”

  She giggles and rests her head on my chest, her body fitting perfectly against mine. I wrap her up and sway to the music, not giving one shit that the assholes I work with are taking pictures and, no doubt, blasting them in a fucking email to the entire company.

  Ever since I lost Zoe, and so publicly, I’ve made it a point to keep my private life just that. Admittedly, there’s been a lack of anything to keep private. I love my job, love the guys I work with, but they do not need to know who’s in my bed and how often she’s there.

  “Thank you for bringing me here.” Her hair falls down her back when she looks up at me, and I glide my fingers through the dark strands.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Her lazy smile tells me she’s feeling her liquor, and I grab her hand and bring her back to the table with me to get some water. Q gets off his stool for her. “Thank you,” she says, and then plops down and takes a sip of the bottled water I handed her. I stand behind her with a protective hand on her shoulder, warning off any motherfucker who’d think to get near.

  We all sit around and shoot the shit, and it’s totally chill. She’s super laid back, and I can tell the guys like her. One of the band’s most popular songs starts, and she hops off the stool. “Who knows how to line dance?”

  All the guys avoid eye contact with her, and I finally speak up. “I am not getting dragged into that shit. Sorry, honey, you’re on your own. But keep your pretty little face where I can see it.”

  “Fine.” She sashays her fine ass to the edge of the dance floor, and I grind my teeth together at the way other men watch her. Luckily for them, they keep their distance. As soon as she finds the beat she’s looking for, she starts doing some kind of dance. A couple of other people get in line next to her and join in, turning and shit in sync.

  “Damn, she seriously lives in our building?” Gio watches her toss her hair back as she twirls around.

  “Yup. Right across the hall from me.”

  He clicks his tongue. “I was supposed to get your unit too, asshole.”

  “What would it matter? You’d only have wanted to fuck her, then never see her again.”