by Rhonda James
She barks out a laugh. “Girl, the wildest imagination can’t even compete with some of the things I’ve seen and heard.” She shakes her head, and the dark ponytail bounces off each shoulder. “Never a dull moment.”
I rest my chin on my palm and let out an envious sigh. “You love every minute of it, don’t you?”
“Haven’t taken a sick day in eight years.” She winks before turning to take an order. A few seconds later, she returns and rests her palms on the bar’s flat surface. “So, you here for business or pleasure?”
“Business,” I answer quickly, secretly hoping to find a touch of pleasure while I’m here. “I’m a writer for a sports magazine, and I’m in town to follow a couple of the Devils’ rookies around for a couple of weeks. Should be interesting.” I laugh.
“That’s really cool. You know, many of the players stop in here throughout the summer. Matter of fact, a few of them were in here earlier.”
“Looks as if we may see a lot of each other these next couple of weeks.”
The burger ends up being one of the best I’ve ever eaten. I pay my tab and inform Melissa I’ll definitely be returning.
Before heading back, I make a quick stop at the restroom. Once inside, it’s obvious I’ve walked in on a couple occupying one of three available stalls. Whether they’re making out or having actual sex, I’m not sure. Judging by the moans coming from behind the thin scrap of particleboard between us, it’s obvious they’re into one another. Immediately, I turn around to leave, but before I can open the door, I hear the girl murmuring softly. The only thing I know for certain is the name of the guy locked in the stall with her.
Scott.
One word is all it takes for me to become rooted to the dingy tile floor. I immediately try reasoning with myself. I’m sure there are hundreds of guys named Scott in this city. Hell, thousands even. The door is already halfway open when his response bounces off the walls of the confined space.
I know that voice.
I don’t remember thinking. Hell, I don’t even recall breathing. I just bolt from the room as if someone is chasing me. Oddly enough, I don’t go straight home. Instead, I find myself heading for the waterfront area located behind my apartment building. My apartment. My temporary home. Ha! That’s a laugh. More like my temporary hell. I pull my phone out of my pocket, and my finger goes straight to the first person I have on speed dial. He answers on the first ring, as if he’s been expecting my call.
“Hey, pretty lady. What’s up? Miss me already?” he teases.
“You know me well. I’m surprised you answered. Your date end early or something?” I smile into the phone. His voice already has me feeling better. I follow the riverwalk path, and we talk and talk. He talks me all the way home, and by the time I walk through my front door, I’ve almost forgotten about the restroom incident.
Almost.
CHAPTER 3
SCOTT
“God, I’ve missed you so much, Scott,” Ashley murmurs my name. Someone’s in the room with us, but that doesn’t stop her from running her mouth.
“We’re a little busy in here,” I say to the person who just barged in on us. All at once, I smell something familiar. “Do you smell that? Are you wearing a new perfume?” I sniff the air once more, trying to place where I’ve smelled it before.
“What are you talking about? I don’t smell anything.” She goes back to nibbling on my neck. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s touched me the way you used to touch me.”
“Why do I find that hard to believe?” I scoff. Who does she think she’s fooling? I know Ashley, and I know she has a fucking sex drive like no other woman I’ve ever encountered. Long time, my ass. I roll my eyes inwardly. Wait a second. Why the fuck should I care whether or not she’s been with someone else? We’re not getting back together. This is just sex. Right?
Long nails trace circles up and down my back before pausing to toy with the hem of my shirt. I know she wants me to take it off, but this isn’t the time, or the place. I catch her by the wrists and guide her hands between us, holding them there while I take a moment to catch my breath. What the fuck am I doing? My brain registers where this is headed, and even in my intoxicated condition it’s trying to tell me this is a very bad idea. Her hands break free of my hold and come to rest on my shoulders. Wet lips seek out the flesh on my neck. Soft moans fall past her lips between each kiss, and then she’s nibbling on my earlobe, whispering filthy words in my ear. My traitorous dick hardens at the sound of her voice, and within seconds, my full-blown erection threatens to burst through my goddamn zipper. Shit. This isn’t good. This woman knows exactly what she’s doing when it comes to turning me on. Then again, sex never played a part in my reasoning for breaking up with Ashley.
“Scott,” she fucking moans my name this time. Expert fingers give my dick a possessive squeeze before all too familiar lips meet mine in a greedy kiss. Her head falls back, exposing the column of her slender neck. I dip my head, but that familiar perfume still lingers in the air, reminding me of something from my past, but for the life of me, I can’t put my finger on it. I think the alcohol must be fucking with me. Whatever it was, it makes me take a step back and evaluate what’s happening right in this moment.
Eight months have passed since I came to my senses and left her standing in her parents’ living room in Cincinnati. I was doing fine. I’ve moved on. Gone on too many dates. Thought I’d fucked her out of my system. Then tonight, after months without contact, we ran into one another. Three beers and who knows how many shots later, we’re locked in a dingy bathroom stall.
What the fuck am I even doing here?
Her eyes meet mine, and the connection she’s seeking is more than I can handle right now. “You feel so fucking hot. Christ, baby. I almost forgot how big you are,” she purrs. “There’s no denying you want this as much as I do. Give it to me, Scott. Fuck me. Right here. Right now,” she commands. I freeze on the spot.
The sickest part of this whole scenario is, she’s right. There was a time in our relationship when I would have claimed her in this vile space. Hell, there was a time I would have claimed her in the middle of the damn dance floor. And she knows it. In fact, she’s counting on it right now. This realization hits me hard and something inside me snaps, as if the drunken haze I’ve been coasting in disappears and I finally see this for what it is.
Another. Stupid. Mistake.
I shouldn’t be doing this. This can’t happen again. It won’t happen again. Nostalgia and too much alcohol are what led me on this little trip down memory lane. Thank God I woke up in time to remember my two years with Ashley were nothing more than a dead-end road.
I lower my hands to my sides and take a step back, which is hard to do within this confined space. At the moment, I can’t seem to get far enough away, but she’s blocking the stupid door.
“No, Ashley. I’m sorry.” I scrub a hand over two days’ worth of stubble and do my best to look into her eyes so she’ll see just how serious I am. “This isn’t going to work.”
Her face drops, and she backs up against the stall door, shaking her head the whole time. “What won’t work? I don’t understand.”
“You. Me. This.” I gesture between us. “Us.”
Cupping my cheek in her hand, she traces a thumb over my bottom lip. Regarding me carefully before speaking again. “Have you forgotten how good we are together? ‘Cause I sure as hell haven’t. Everyone knows we’re perfect for each other. I know we’ve both said some things. Done things we probably regret. But for tonight, I’m willing to forget all of it.”
I remove her hand and huff out a laugh. “See, that’s just it, Ashley. I can’t forget. Better still, I don’t want to. We’re both better off leaving what we once shared in the past.” Taking her by the elbows, I move her away from the door and exit the stall. Leaving her to gape after me. I don’t bother turning around to see if she’s watching me walk away. I already know she is.
Everyone knows we’re perfect fo
r each other?
It’s funny, but she has no idea how deeply those words impact me. While I don’t want to hurt her any further than I already have, I have to laugh at the validity of her argument. I’m tired of spending my life doing what others expect of me. Tired of living to please everyone. Everyone except me. It’s time I take a stand and start doing what’s best for me. God knows it’s been ages since I’ve done that.
Now that I’ve come to my senses, I need to ask myself the all-important question. What do I want?
I mull that over on the short walk home. The more I think about it, the less I can remember the last time I did something just because it was what I wanted to do. I step through the door of my apartment building, bypass the elevator, and head straight for the stairs. Our season kicks off in less than a month, and after tonight’s fiasco, I think it’s time I start laying off the alcohol. Every apartment building bears a certain odor after time. Food odors. Pet odors. You get the picture. This building is fairly new, so the dominant odor is fresh paint. Tonight, there’s a new fragrance in the air. In fact, it’s the scent I smelled earlier in that dingy bathroom. It reminds me of vanilla and almonds and someone I once knew.
Shaking off the unwelcome memory, I reach the third-floor landing and step into the narrow hall leading to my apartment. I see a woman standing in front of the apartment right across the hall from mine. Her back is to me and she’s on the phone. Fumbling with her keys. Her whole body shakes when she laughs at something she’s heard. The sound echoes down the hallway, and something about it makes my head spin.
It’s just the alcohol, I tell myself. The fragrance. The laughter. It’s just a coincidence. There’s no way it can be her. I’m not sure why I’ve stopped moving. What if it is her? What would I say? The last time we saw each other, she called me a selfish asshole. Have I really changed much since that night? It saddens me to admit this, but probably not. The keys stop jingling, and this time when she laughs, there’s no doubt in my mind. It’s definitely Skylar Dennison. The girl I loved once upon a time.
Holy shit. Beads of perspiration gather at the base of my neck and a chill runs through me. I shake my head to try and break the trance I’m in then make my way back down the stairs. The cool slap of fresh air feels good against my warm cheeks, like a long-overdue wake-up call. If that really is Skylar up there, what the hell is she doing here? And why, after all this time, does the mere thought of her presence leave me forgetting how to breathe?
CHAPTER 4
SCOTT
Their house is dark when I pull in the drive, but that doesn’t stop me from getting out of the car and approaching the front door. I probably shouldn’t have driven all the way here; not that I feel the least bit drunk. Not anymore. The sound of her laughter… Nothing has ever sobered me faster.
I rap my knuckles on the door. Once. Twice. Three times. No response. No noise coming from the other side of the door. If they’re in there, I know they can hear me. After all, it’s safe to say I’m probably being a touch obnoxious right now. Pretty soon, I’m banging on the door with both hands. And wait some more.
Two minutes.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
Yeah. I’m not going away that easily. Right now, my head is a mess and I need to talk to my best friend. Cage is the only one who knows how badly the break-up with Skylar affected me. I never even told Cassie what happened. All she knows is that one minute Skylar and I were inseparable, the next we were over and she was on a plane to Atlanta. The way it all went down probably left Skylar thinking I’m a heartless prick; nothing could be further from the truth. I spent a whole year wracked with guilt. Beating myself up over the way we left things. Truth be told, I haven’t been the same since the night I told her we should try taking a break from each other. Still, after all these years, I can picture her face. Hurt. Betrayal. Tears. Sometimes the memory of that night haunts me in my sleep.
The side of my fist meets the wood once more before I hear someone approaching the door.
“Pound it one more time, motherfucker, and I’ll kick your annoying ass up and down this street,” Cage threatens while throwing open the deadbolt. “The fuck is your problem, asshole?” he bitches when he discovers I’m the one who interrupted his little sex fest. I gather this from the rumpled hair and massive woody his sweatpants and t-shirt fail to conceal. My suspicions are confirmed when Cassie comes down the stairs. Face flushed. Shirt turned inside out. Sporting a serious case of bedmash hair.
Ew. The last image I want floating around in my head is one of Cage boning my sister. It’s bad enough knowing what goes on behind the walls of their bedroom. Witnessing the aftermath firsthand? Fuck. That. Shit. To be honest, it was one of the reasons I decided to get my own place. Let me be clear. I don’t have a problem with Cage dating Cassie. I’m still getting used to it. But I don’t have a problem. Not. Really.
“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” Cass walks over, arms automatically circling my waist. “This is a nice surprise.” Cage goes to protest, but she silences him with a swish of her hand. “A bit late for company, but still a nice surprise.”
“Yeah. Sorry for the late hour. Something happened tonight… I just need to talk to my best friend.” My admission is met with shocked silence. Let’s just say it’s been awhile since I’ve referred to Cage as my best friend. God, I really am an asshole. “I hope that’s okay.” They both speak up at once.
“Of course, it’s okay.”
“You know I’m here, bro.”
Cassie tightens her grip on the back of my shirt. “You sure you don’t want me to stick around? I’m pretty good at giving advice.”
“Thanks for the offer, Cass, but not tonight.” I drop a kiss on top of her rumpled head. “But hey, maybe we can do French toast this week?”
Her slender arms give another squeeze, then she peers up at me. Blue eyes identical to mine. Unconditional love staring right back at me. I can’t help feeling a twinge of guilt despite months of apologizing. I can’t believe I almost lost her. All because she fell in love with my best friend and I couldn’t handle it.
“You know it. Angelo’s?” she verifies.
“Only the best for my baby sis.” I tap the end of her tiny nose. Everything about Cassie is petite. She gives me a pat on the chest then turns her attention to the man waiting patiently behind her. The look on his face tells me he’d wait forever if that were what she needed.
She cups his face in her hands as her voice drops to a whisper. “I’ll be upstairs. Wake me if I fall asleep. We can pick up where we left off?”
One hand curls around her hip, while the other cups the nape of her neck. The connection is tender. Personal. A promise. “I won’t be too long. Love you, Dimples.” They share an intimate kiss, and I have to clear my throat to remind them I’m still in the room.
“Night.” She wiggles her fingers in our direction before disappearing back upstairs. He stares in that direction long after she’s gone.
“Dude. I should have called.” I throw my hands up as if to say my bad. Setting aside my agenda, I glance toward the empty staircase before turning back to meet his eyes. “You two are so goddamn sweet I get a friggin’ toothache just being in the same room with you,” I tease. Completely aware of how jealous I must sound right now.
His hand goes to his chest and he flashes his trademark panty-melting smile. “She’s the love of my life, bro.”
One look at his face, and I can’t help smiling. Dude is grinning like he just won the fucking lottery.
“So, grow a pair and do something about it already,” I quip, knowing damn well he’s been carrying around that diamond for the past six months, waiting for the ‘perfect moment.’
“I’m working up to it, but Cassie… Man, she’s everything, and I just want the moment to be perfect. Speaking of perfect. We were just about to—and then the knocking—so, yeah.” At least the fucker has the decency to pretend to feel bad about boinking my sister.
�
�I get it. That’s awesome, man. I’m happy for you. I mean, I’ve never been on that same ‘level’, but it’s cool. I get it. Seriously. I couldn’t ask for a better man for Cass.” I give him a brotherly thump on the back. “Sorry for breaking up your party, but I needed a voice of reason.”
At this, he laughs. “Voice of reason? You make it sound so serious. What’s going on?” His eyes go round as he falls back in the recliner. “Holy shit. You didn’t get some girl knocked up, did you?”
“No,” I scoff, plopping down on the sofa across from him, resting my elbows on my knees. “I’ll leave Daddy duty to Davis.”
“Daddy duty,” he snickers. “You realize what that sounds like? Doody? Do-do.” He cracks himself up with his own stupid sense of humor.
“For fuck’s sake, shut up already. I get it.” I can’t help rolling my eyes. “I swear you’re a child trapped in a man’s body.”
“Yet you come to me as your voice of reason.” He makes a popping sound with his mouth.
“Maybe I’m having second thoughts,” I huff, and he pushes up out of his chair.
“Alright then, best be going. Don’t want you to get caught up in all that bar traffic.” He hooks a thumb toward the stairs. “Mrs. Cage is up there waiting, so…”
I shake my head and point a finger at the recliner. “Park your ass in that chair. We’re not done here. And she’s not Mrs. Cage. Not yet, anyhow.”
“Fine.” He makes a dramatic show of flopping back down in the chair then leans forward and gets serious. “What’s got you so shaken up?”
Let’s see… How do I say this without sounding like I’ve lost my damn mind?
“I had something happen tonight. Something I’ve never encountered before,” I admit on a sigh.
“Wait a sec, is that code for ‘I couldn’t get it up?’” He does the air quote thing. “Because if that’s the case, I don’t know how much help I’m gonna be.” I fold my arms across my chest, and my lips draw into a thin line. His hand goes dramatically to his chest. “I, for one, have never had that problem. But I hear it’s normal for guys as they get older. You know, after their sack hairs go grey and shit.”