Her head dipped back and she laughed. “No, not in the least. Vibrators and bondage are totally different.”
“Got ya.” I nodded.
“Okay, so that’s all I can think of for now. I might have more later tonight though.” She grinned. “I’ll see you at Shooters at seven?”
“I’ll be there.” I bent to pick up my tool bag. Obviously, our conversation was over. My phone vibrated, and I dug it out of my pocket, thankful for something to ease the uncomfortable moment that was sure to suffocate me some before I stepped outside.
“I need to answer this. I’ll see you later,” I said.
“Bye.” She wiggled her fingers and flashed me a killer smile that deepened her dimples.
I glanced at my phone to see who had called—Brent. Crap, I’d nearly forgotten I’d left him babysitting that drunk. Clicking on his name, I called to let him know I was on my way.
“Damn, dude. Did you get some action and forget about me or something?” he answered.
“No. She remembered our date though.” I smiled, loving that I was able to rub that little fact in. After all, he’d been so sure she would forget, and had ragged me about it every chance he got. “I’m meeting her for drinks at Shooters tonight.”
He didn’t need to know her friends would be there as well, all he needed to know was the basics.
“I’m impressed,” he said.
Loading my tools back up, I cranked the engine and headed off to meet Brent.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
LAUREN
The second my door clicked closed behind Ian, I reached for my cell and called my mom back.
“Hey, honey. So tell me about this trip,” Mom answered after the third ring.
“Ugh, it was absolutely horrible, Mom.” I moaned.
“Which part? Your flight or the trip itself?” she asked.
“The flight went fine. I was so nervous that I thought I would be sick, but once we got into the air, I settled down. When we landed was another story, though. I was seriously dizzy for a few minutes. For whatever reason, I neglected to glance over my itinerary like I should have, because once we got there, I didn’t even know what time it was.”
“I told you to look that thing over carefully,” Mom scolded.
“I know, I was lost in the romance of the trip—well, the idea of it anyway.” I rolled my eyes. “And then we met up with Jimmy’s mother. This is where my trip took a nosedive.”
“Because…?” she pressed.
“The woman hated me.”
“No, why would you think that?”
I thought back to all the little things she’d done to make me believe this from the get-go. “It was more of a feeling at first, a vibe I got from her. Then when she neglected to acknowledge me at all upon meeting me, I knew it was true. She was flat-out rude to me numerous times during my stay at her house, too.”
“Honey, I’m so sorry. How did Jimmy handle it?”
“He pretty much ignored it.” I pursed my lips together. “But when the rest of his family, specifically the girl he told me was his cousin, disliked me being there and were just as blunt with it as his mother, he had no choice but to pay attention.”
“He introduced you to his entire family?” The alarm in my mother’s voice was comical, only because I knew where her mind had jumped to—thoughts of us getting serious.
“Yeah, but only because his family all live in the same house together,” I clarified. “Which was actually where we stayed, because Jimmy didn’t bother to get us a hotel.”
“I’m sure that was uncomfortable for you,” Mom insisted, but I got the impression she was relieved by my news. “How was the city? I’m sure you did a lot of sightseeing though, right? That must have been fun.”
I chuckled, wishing I could give her some great stories of how awesome it all was. I could, after I told her all about Jimmy’s massive dickhead betrayal first.
“Oh, I went sightseeing all right,” I muttered.
After I filled my mother in on all the boring things Jimmy had dragged me to, their strange times of eating, the narrow streets, and how wonderful the food was, I got to the nitty-gritty of why my trip had truly sucked. Mom burst with anger when she heard the entire story.
“You deserve way better than that scum ball, honey. Don’t let him get the satisfaction of you being depressed over him, okay?” she insisted.
I inhaled, my tears ready to spill over. While I didn’t want to shed a single tear over Jimmy, it was inevitable. “Easier said than done,” I whimpered.
“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry,” Mom said. Her voice was soft and comforting, but I wished she were here in person so she could hug me. “I’m so sorry.”
We talked a bit more—her soothing me, and me blubbering like a baby—until I was calmed down. It felt good to get everything out. Now that I’d cried too, I hoped Jimmy was out of my system for good.
After hanging up with my mom, I sent out a group message to Paige, Blaire, and Eva, asking them to meet me for dinner, and then suggesting we meet up with the guys at Shooters afterward. Each of them agreed, because they wanted to know all the details of my not so steamy trip.
* * * *
“No, he told you that was the word for cousin?” Eva dunked a chip into the white cheese dip, and locked eyes with me. We were at Blue Agave, discussing the details of my nightmarish trip. “What the hell is wrong with him?”
“I wondered the same thing.”
I took a sip of the frozen margarita I’d ordered. Margaritas and Mexican food went together like peanut butter and jelly. Since I wasn’t driving after this, there was no point in holding back my love for them. Eva had agreed to be our DD for the night, but once we made it to the bar and met up with the guys, I was sure one of them would opt in as well so she wouldn’t feel singled out.
“Oh, it gets better. The cute baby was actually his daughter. His mother loathed me like I was some sort of home wrecker the entire time I was there, and I didn’t even get any birthday booty.”
It was easier to tell the story a second time; something I was grateful for. I could add in more sarcasm than I had with my mom, too.
“Now that is a crying shame. Birthday booty is a given when you’re in a relationship,” Eva insisted. “Not that I’m ever in a relationship around the time of my birthday, though.”
“So, did he even call or attempt to track you down after you left?” Blaire asked. She cut a small portion of her chicken quesadilla off and popped it into her mouth.
“He called me three times I think, and sent me a text or two, but I’m sure he didn’t go to any hotels searching for me.” Wiping my fingers on my napkin, I reached for my drink again. “It’s for the best though. There’s no way in hell I would have wanted to talk to him after all that.”
“Absolutely,” Eva agreed. “I wouldn’t want to talk to him if I were you either. God, that’s like the worst kind of betrayal. He had a secret family. What the fuck? He deserves to be kneed in the balls for that one, twice.”
“Why was he even here when he had that at home?” Blaire interjected.
“I guess that’s why he was always so damn adamant when it came to using condoms,” I said as more of an afterthought than anything.
I remembered thinking at one point that he must have had a pregnancy scare with a girlfriend in the past. Who would have thought I would be right?
“Do you think he came back on his flight?” Paige took a sip of her drink.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. He pretty much had nothing here, so there wasn’t a true reason for him to come back.”
“You,” Blaire insisted.
“He’s not going to come back for me,” I muttered, hoping it was true.
“If he does, I hope I run into him, because I’m kneeing the bastard in the nuts,” Eva said.
“Violent. I always wondered if you had a mean streak in you.” I grinned, staring at Eva.
“Normally, I don’t—regardless of what Cam has said abo
ut me—but when someone messes with a friend of mine, I don’t hold back,” Eva insisted.
Taking another sip of my margarita, I leaned back in my chair and bathed in the warmth I was feeling rolling off my friends. Good friends meant everything.
“I say we shut up about all this depressing garbage, order yourselves another drink, and then let’s head to the bar. I wanna meet this cute country boy you’re meeting there. Maybe he has a friend.” Eva winked.
“Trust me, you don’t want to meet his friend.” I laughed, thinking of Brent and feeling so thankful Eva was here to pull us all out of the funk in a funny way. “He’s a playboy with a cocky mouth.”
“Ugh, yeah. I’m over that type.” Eva groaned.
“Me too.” I chuckled.
Taking the last few sips of my margarita, I decided to hell with all this drama floating through my head and the insecure feelings filling my mind. I was going to let loose and de-stress tonight. After that sucky-ass trip, I deserved it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
IAN
I checked my phone again. Lauren was at least fifteen minutes late. Fear she might have changed her mind and bailed on me cut through my insides. Taking another swig of my beer, I decided I would give her fifteen more minutes, and then I was leaving. Brent would surely never let me live this crap down if Lauren ended up being a no-show.
The music changed to a new beat, and I leaned against the bar on my elbows with my beer cupped between my palms, letting the countdown begin in my head.
“Buy me a drink?” a sweet voice asked from behind me.
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips at the same time as relief crashed through me. I knew who it was without even turning around. “So you didn’t stand me up, then.”
Lauren pulled out the barstool beside me and sat. Her head tilted to the side, and her honey-brown eyes fixated on me. “You thought I stood you up?”
Taking another swig of my beer, I took her in. She was no longer wearing the thin tank top and pajama bottoms I’d left her in earlier, but what she’d changed into was just as sexy—a low-cut T-shirt in a pastel yellow that brought out the honey in her eyes and a pair of tiny white shorts. Her wedge sandals had straps that laced up her calves and drew my attention straight to her gorgeous legs.
“I did,” I admitted, never moving my eyes from hers. “I was giving you until seven thirty before I left, actually.”
She fingered the long beaded necklace she wore. “I wouldn’t stand you up. I told you I was meeting with my friends first. Our girl talk ran over a little. That could have been because of the margaritas though.”
A playful smile twisted her lips, accentuating her dimples and causing my heart to kick-start in my chest. I’d jumped straight from being disappointed at having possibly been stood up, to relief, to elation in two seconds flat.
“Oh. Already a little tipsy, huh?” It wasn’t a question necessarily, but more of a failed attempt at flirting. I was more than a little rusty when it came to this type of thing.
“I am,” she admitted. “But I’m not done for the night, and I believe I’ve already asked you to buy me a drink, Mr. Mason. Don’t make me ask again.” She leaned against the bar in a way that made my eyes drop straight to her ample cleavage. A little chuckle burst from her plump lips and drew my eyes back up to hers. “Like what you see or something?”
I grinned. Her sexy little rumble of chuckling continued, causing my cheeks to heat. I’d been right about her; this girl was trouble. Maybe she was just the kind of trouble I needed though.
“And if I say I do?” I shifted my gaze back to her, wondering where the hell the words came from. I licked my lips and continued with what I’d been about to say. It was too late not to. “Is that all right with you?”
She smiled wide. “I wouldn’t have invited you if I wasn’t all right with it.”
I smoothed the palms of my hands on my shorts and flashed her a lopsided grin. “I think I like that answer. So, what can I buy you to drink?”
“Not what you’ve got, that’s for sure.” Her nose crinkled as she glared at my drink of choice.
“Not a beer drinker. All right, that’s fine.” I nodded. “So what do you drink, then…besides margaritas?” I leaned into her a little. My flirting ways were being dusted off and making themselves known. This was a good thing.
“I drink just about anything, but because I started with a margarita, I’ll have a shot of some tequila.” She sat up straight and tipped her head to the side. “What about you? Are you just a sloppy beer drinker?”
“A sloppy beer drinker?” I questioned while polishing off my last few swigs.
“Yeah. They say beer drinkers are known for sloppy, lazy sex.” She flashed me this look, one that made me feel as though she were waiting for a specific type of reaction. She was baiting me to ask how she knew this and to push the topic of conversation further; it was reflected in her eyes.
“Never heard that before.” I pushed my empty beer bottle away. If that was the type of sex she associated with guys who drank beer, then I didn’t want to be lumped into that category in her mind—even though it was too late for that. “So what do they say about tequila?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard the saying.” Her eyes glittered with mischief as she glared at me.
I shook my head. “And what saying is that?”
“That tequila makes clothes come off.”
I laughed. “Oh really? I think I have heard that before actually. It’s in a song or something. The question is—is it true?” I raised an eyebrow at her, wondering where the hell this brazen guy had come from. This was so not me. I didn’t talk this way to females. This was Brent. Oh, God, Brent had rested at the bottom of that beer. Yeah, it was definitely time to switch up my drink of choice for the night.
“Possibly, we’ll have to test that out some other night.” She winked. “What are you ordering? I want you to meet my friends. They’re all sitting over there.” She motioned to the back of the bar.
I thought for a moment, trying to decide what I should order. Normally, I would get another beer and call it good, but now that she’d mentioned all that sloppy, lazy sex stuff and I’d started talking like Brent, I couldn’t bring myself to order a second one. “I’ll take a rum and Coke, I guess.”
She narrowed her eyes at me and smiled; it was a slightly satisfied smile. “Still sloppy, but a silly sloppy instead, which is way better than lazy.”
“Do what?” I asked, not understanding what she was talking about in the slightest. Squirming in my seat, I forced myself to keep eye contact with her.
“Rum. It leads to a sloppy, silly type of sex that’s fun.”
“How the hell do you know all this? Is this some sort of study for school?” I had to ask. I’d never heard any of this before, and she did live in a college town. Was she still in college for something? I didn’t know shit about this girl.
Lauren waved a passive hand. “Nah. I dated a part-time bartender for a while. He and his frat buddies tested all of this stuff out for an entire year. Those were some of the conclusions they came to about certain alcohols and the type of sex you have while under the influence of them.”
I motioned for the bartender. “Interesting.”
“Yeah, it sort of was.” She tucked a strand of her highlighted hair behind her ear.
As soon as I’d ordered and paid for our drinks, I followed Lauren toward her group of friends. Instantly, I recognized Blaire, the girl I’d met at the Mexican restaurant. She smiled at me from where she sat, perched in some guy’s lap.
“Hey, how are you?” she asked.
“Good.” I nodded.
“This is Jason, my fiancé.” Blaire said the word with so much excitement that I knew the engagement had to be fresh. “Jason, this is Ian, Lauren’s friend.”
Jason held out a hand and I shook it. “What’s up, man?”
“Hey, nothing much. Nice to meet you,” I answered.
Lauren pulled out a chair
and sat. “This is Paige, Cameron, and Eva. Everyone, this is Ian.”
“This is the guy who found all your dildos?” Cameron asked with a wide, shit-eating grin. “What the hell was that like, man? Were you freaked out or turned on?”
I swallowed hard. Wow, this dude really was bold with the things he said. Moving the chair beside Lauren out, I sat and leaned my elbows against the tabletop.
“Both,” I admitted.
Cameron burst into a fit of laugher, as did everyone else, and I felt myself relax.
“I would have felt the same!” Jason chuckled.
I looked at Lauren, making sure she wasn’t embarrassed by this conversation topic, and I was mildly surprised. She was laughing right along, as if it wasn’t her stash we were talking about.
“All right, all right,” Lauren said after a little while, causing all of us to tone down our laugher. “You guys can’t honestly tell me you don’t have at least one stashed somewhere in your bedrooms.” She eyed her girlfriends, waiting for their response. “Blaire?”
“I actually do,” Blaire admitted with an embarrassed smile, and then covered her face.
“What?” Jason shifted to stare her in the eyes. “You have me. There’s no need to use something solo. How did I not know this about you until now?”
“I don’t know.” Blaire chuckled and buried her face into Jason’s shoulder.
“Oh, we have some fun nights ahead of us now,” Jason insisted with a wide grin.
Blaire smacked him on the arm. “Shut up!”
Cameron nudged Paige beside me. “You don’t, do you?”
Paige’s cheeks tinted. “I don’t.” She said it as though it were a bad thing, and her face shifted through ten shades of red. “I never got up the nerve to buy one before.”
“Oh, we have got to remedy this at some point.” Cameron wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into him. “Maybe I could even watch you use it for your first time. Damn, that would be sexy as hell.”
“Oh my God, shut up!” Paige smacked him on the chest and balked.
Wreck You Page 14