An older man comes from behind the blue curtain and sits on the stool. Taking a sip of a water bottle, he looks into the audience. “It’s okay. I’ve never heard of me either,” he says flippantly. The crowd gives a chuckle and he smiles before continuing. “I was a little nervous before coming up here, so I prepared a few lines. Now that I’ve snorted them, I feel great!” I chuckle and look at the girls, both with half-smiles on their face and an arched eyebrow.
Scanning the crowd, he pins his gaze on Miranda. “I’m thirty-eight, single, unemployed, and have erectile dysfunction. If you want to come back stage and try to turn this dough into a baguette, I promise you might regret it.” Miranda lips twitch into a full smile and her chest shakes in silent laughter.
He uses our table for his entire act, focusing on Miranda at first, but once she tells him Amanda is getting married tomorrow, it’s all over. Toward the end of his set, I’m laughing so hard, I can’t breathe. Miranda laughs right alongside me, but Amanda bristles, clearly not thrilled with the attention.
“What’s the matter, Amanda?” Miranda goads.
“Ha, ha, ha,” Amanda snaps. “I’m glad you’re both so easily amused.”
“You have to admit, he was funny,” I say as we get up from our table.
“He was hysterical,” Miranda giggles.
“Okay, maybe,” Amanda concedes, smiling.
“So, ladies, where to now?” Miranda asks.
“Let’s ask where the best night spot is,” Amanda says as she walks toward the hostess stand. “Excuse me, where is the loudest bar on the island?”
“What she means,” Miranda clarifies, “is the busiest.”
“Ah. That would be Shark Bite in Turtle Cove. There is a Reggae band there tonight, and it’s right down the road.”
“Perfect!” Amanda exclaims. “Thank you,” she yells back at the hostess as she grabs our hands and yanks us out the door. Jumping into one of the many cabs waiting outside, Amanda tells the driver where we’re going. Our driver presses his foot on the gas and we speed away toward Turtle Cove.
“Are all the drivers on this island crazy?” I mutter under my breath.
“I love Reggae,” Miranda squeals, hopping up and down on the seat like a child, ignoring me.
“Me, too! This is going to be so much fun!” Amanda agrees.
“I hope it’s not too crowded,” I mumble, hating the mess of sweaty bodies grinding up against you and the rush of people trying to push through to get to the bar. It’s claustrophobic.
“Oh, stop being such a Debbie Downer. Loosen up and have fun,” Miranda says, giving me a shove.
”Sorry,” I mumble, realizing I have been a buzz kill all night. I’m just so used to Evan’s rules, I don’t know how to have a good time. He was so strict when it came to anything. I couldn’t drink, and I sure as hell couldn’t dance unless it was with him. I was essentially a prisoner, only . . . I didn’t know it at the time.
The driver makes a quick sharp turn, throwing us all to one side of the car and snapping me out of my thoughts.
“You’re right, I have been lame all night. I’ll try to be better.” I give Miranda and Amanda a tight-lipped smile.
“Hey, no problem. Let’s just have fun. I’m getting married tomorrow!” Amanda shouts as the driver makes another sharp turn, shoving us toward the window again.
“Ow! Elbow in my boob,” I gasp, rubbing at the soreness.
“Oh, sorry,” Miranda says, trying to shuffle back. As soon as we regain our bearings, he slams on the breaks, forcing our arms forward to brace for impact. I reach for the handle of the door and stumble out in front of a very busy Tiki Bar, needing out of the cab. Miranda and Amanda stagger out behind me and we make our way into the packed bar.
The view from the dock is spectacular. The bar overlooks the bay and a nice breeze is blowing off the water. Inside, there is an L-shaped bar and stone walls. Very cozy. The Reggae band is set up outside, so most of the people have gathered out there to dance. The three of us make our way to the bar, trying to find a spot to order.
“Please, allow me,” a guy sitting at the bar says to us, moving his chair slightly so one of us can lean in. He looks a little older than us, maybe early thirties. He’s cute in a surfer dude sort of way, with shaggy, bleach-blonde hair.
“Thanks,” Miranda says, jumping in between him and the wall. As she tries to wave down the bartender, Surfer Dude leans over to the guys next to him.
“Miranda, get me a shot!” Amanda yells over the crowd.
“Please, allow me,” the surfer dude says, smiling. “And what are you lovely ladies drinking?”
“I need a shot! I’m getting married tomorrow!” Amanda squeals.
“I can use a shot,” one of Surfer Dude’s friends chimes in.
The bartender makes his way over to our side of the bar. “What can I make for you?” he asks.
“Can we get . . .” he points his finger at each person, taking a head count, “eight shots of Jaeger over here.”
“Can I get a light beer?” I ask, adding, “Whatever you have.” He nods his head to show he heard me and walks away.
As the bartender rounds up shot glasses, Surfer Dude makes introductions. “I’m Russell, and these are my bros, Matt, Jake, Finn, and Brian.”
“I’m Miranda. The bride-to-be is Amanda, and this is Olivia.”
“Hi,” I say, keeping my focus on the bartender.
“So, what are three beautiful ladies doing this evening?” Matt asks.
“We’re celebrating!” Amanda cheers.
“Another one bites the dust,” Jake mutters.
“How about you two ladies. Married?” Brian asks, though his attention remains on Miranda.
“No,” she says, a flush creeping across her cheeks.
He turns to me. “You?”
“No, not married.”
That grabs Jake’s attention. If I were single, I might actually be attracted to him. He kind of reminds me of Jared Leto in the movie Mr. Nobody. His hair is the same straight length that covers part of his face, he has nice eyes, although it’s too dark to tell what color they are, and a dimple peeks out when he smiles.
“Where are our manners?” he mumbles aloud. Standing, he smacks Brian and Matt, saying, “Get your asses up and let these ladies sit down.”
“Shit, sorry,” Brian says as he offers his seat to Miranda. I take Jake’s seat and Amanda takes Matt’s. Russell pushes his chair closer to the wall with Finn standing behind him, putting us in a tight semi-circle.
The bartender lines up nine shot glasses and pours the chilled Jaeger across the glasses, not spilling a drop. Russell is closest, so he passes out the shots, as well as the beer I requested.
“Here’s to your wedding tomorrow,” he toasts Amanda, “and to you two beautiful ladies having some fun.”
“Cheers,” we all say in unison.
I shoot back my shot and immediately down half my beer. My nose wrinkles as the Jaeger crawls down my throat, the burn lingering longer than I want it. My shoulders shutter as I fight the urge to reject the nasty liquid. Matt bursts out laughing.
“Jaeger’s not one of your favorites, I see,” he says, still laughing.
“Bleck, I can’t stand it,” I sputter, still trying to rid my tongue of the nasty taste.
“We’ll need to do something different next time.”
“Where’re you girls from?” Finn asks from behind Russell.
“New York,” Miranda answers.
“We’re from California.”
“Yeah, we needed a little bro time,” Brian says.
“You staying on Providenciales?”
“No. Parrot Cay.”
Matt whistles through his teeth. “Damn, ladies, you rich or something? That’s where the movie stars go.”
“Hardly,” Miranda mumbles.
“You know, I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before,” Finn says to Miranda.
“You might have. I did some Calvin Klein modeli
ng,” she says, matter-of-fact.
“Shit! I knew you looked familiar!” Finn says, looking over at his friends. “Hey, guys! She’s a famous model!” he shouts.
“No shit,” Brian says, looking pleased with himself.
“How about you? You famous, too?” Jake asks me.
“No, not famous,” I say after finishing my beer.
“Here, let me.” Jake takes the bottle from me and orders another. I look down the bar to see Amanda doing more shots with Russell and Matt.
“Easy, Amanda, you don’t want to be hung over tomorrow,” I shout down the bar.
“What’s a hangover?” she yells back, laughing as she responds.
“What’s a hangover? Are you kidding me?” I say, staring at her in disbelief. I look at a glass of wine and get a headache.
Handing me another beer, Jake asks, “So, if you girls are staying on Parrot Cay, why are you slumming it over here?”
“Honestly? It’s beautiful there, but really boring,” I giggle. “They wanted to celebrate her impending marriage with drinking and dancing.”
“Well, you have the drinking part covered,” he says, clinking his beer glass with mine, “how about the dancing?”
“I’ll need a few more of these first,” I say, smiling.
“That can be arranged.”
Coming from the patio is a familiar song. The band is covering one of my favorites by Shabba Ranks, Twice My Age. I immediately start tapping my foot and my head sways back and forth.
“Time to dance!” Amanda announces as she springs from her seat. Russell and Matt follow her to the patio.
“Wait for me!” Miranda yells, jumping up after her.
“I like dancing,” Brian says as he follows behind, leaving me with Jake and Finn.
Finn takes one of the empty chairs while Jake continues to stand behind me, his hand on the back of my chair.
“So, not married, huh?” he says again.
“No, but I’m involved with someone.”
“If you were involved with me, you wouldn’t be here alone,” he murmurs so only I can hear him.
“The guys are doing the bachelor party thing,” I say, defending Chase.
“I wouldn’t have gone,” he says. “There isn’t a chance in hell I’d let you out of my sight.”
I slam back my beer, not wanting to respond to that. “Listen, Jake. I appreciate the compliment, but really, I’m with someone.”
“I know, but you can’t blame a guy for trying,” he says, shifting so his arm is leaning on the back of my chair. It’s a possessive stance, one I’m not entirely comfortable with. I finish my beer and wave the bartender over for another one.
“Maybe we should dance.” I go to stand, but Jake doesn’t move. “C’mon, let’s go dance,” I say, a little more forceful.
“Okay,” he says, shifting forward. I slide off the barstool and grab my new beer, making a beeline to the patio.
The band switched to Bob Marley, playing Could You Be Loved. My body sways to the beat as I move through the crowd, making my way over to Amanda and Miranda by the railing.
“This band is fantastic,” Amanda screams over the music as I approach. I nod my head in agreement, watching Russell and Matt dancing directly behind Amanda. She turns her head to the side, looking away from me and holding her drink in the air as she bends and dips, pushing her ass back into Matt. Russell slides his arm up her side as she comes back to standing. I blink once, glance at my watch, and turn my attention to Miranda.
“Hey, guys, it’s almost one in the morning. Are we going to head out soon, or . . .” my words die off when I realize they are falling on deaf ears. Brian swivels his hips behind Miranda, pulling her flush against him as his hand roves over her stomach, moving up.
A tap on my shoulder draws my attention away. I turn toward Jake and he smiles, handing me a beer.
“Thanks,” I shout over the music, taking the beer from him. I sip on the one I already have, trying to finish it. Still smiling, Jake moves in front of me, swaying his body to the beat. My hips shift back and forth as I look back over at Miranda and laugh at Brian trying to keep up with her hips.
One of my favorite songs comes on, and I finally let loose. Slamming back my beer, I chuck one of the bottles into a trashcan nearby and roll my body to the catchy tempo. Jake’s hands brush my hips in feather-light touches before grasping on and moving right along with me.
As we dance, Jake gets closer, his body flush against my back and ass. I get lost in the song, allowing it to wash over me. Swiveling my hips slightly, I rub against Jake, my body moving in sync with his.
Spinning me, he throws one arm behind my back and the other on my hip. As Jake’s hand slides down my back to my ass, he roughly pulls me close. My right leg between his legs, we sway back and forth as one.
Miranda squeals, and I spin to see what happened when I lurch forward. It’s as if everything is happening in slow motion. I grip onto Jake’s shirt, trying not to fall as he’s pulled back by his collar. Steadying myself, I hear another shout and look over as Justin takes a swing at Brian.
Warm hands cover my hips, ripping me back from Jake. My finger snags on his shirt as I look up to see a very pissed off Chase.
“What are you doing here?” I manage to squeak out, thoroughly surprised.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he shouts through gritted teeth as he turns to grab Jake. I grab his arm and try to pull him back. “Stop it, Chase! He didn’t do anything!” I shout as the dance floor starts to clear out.
Chase shake’s my hand off his arm. “Didn’t do anything? He was all over you!” he snarls.
“I’m a big girl, Chase. I don’t need you to save me!” Jake grabs Matt and Russell and follows the crowd off the patio. I don’t know what the hell happened to Finn, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
Miranda screams again and I turn toward her to see Justin pummeling Brian while she and Nathan try to pull him off.
“Justin, stop! Jesus, you’ll kill him!” Amanda screams.
“Chase, do something,” I yell, pointing toward them.
“Shit,” he mutters, running over to pull Justin off Brian.
Justin finally loosens his grip on Brian, leaving him bleeding on the dance floor. Miranda starts wailing on Justin.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? We were just dancing and you come in here and start shit!”
“Are you kidding me?” Justin starts to respond, deflecting punches.
“Don’t fucking talk to me. You guys are all drunk and your testosterone is controlling you. We. Were. Dancing. Jesus!”
“And what the hell are you guys doing here?” Amanda jumps in, pointing at Nathan.
“We’re drunk? Good Lord, look at this mess,” he snaps, looking at us. “C’mon, let’s get out of here before we’re escorted out.” Nathan grabs Amanda’s arm and drags her toward the exit. Miranda follows behind, not acknowledging Justin.
I turn to Chase, his eyes blazing with fury. “This discussion isn’t over,” he growls.
“There’s nothing to discuss,” I yell back, equally pissed. I turn and follow Justin, Chase staying a safe distance behind me.
Outside the club, Nathan opens the door of the first minivan cab he finds. “Get in,” he shouts behind him. Amanda, Miranda, and I get in first, sitting in the back, forcing the guys to sit in the middle. Justin tells the driver where we’re going and the cab starts to move.
No one says a word the entire cab ride or during the boat ride back to the island, all thirty minutes of it.
Back on Parrot Cay, we head toward our respective cottages. I’m ahead of Chase, making him follow behind.
I open the door and head for the bathroom. “Oh, no you don’t,” Chase hisses as he slams the front door closed. “This discussion isn’t over.”
“There isn’t anything to discuss!” I spin to face him. Ignoring his glare, I shout, “What do you want to hear? Do you want me to tell you I fucked him? Is that it?”
&nb
sp; “Did you?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Chase.” Turning away from him, I blow him off. I refuse to feed into his behavior and hold strong as he follows behind.
“You might as well have been, the way you were dancing,” he says, bristling with tension. “He was practically dry humping you.”
“Chase, we were dancing. That’s all. I don’t understand what the big deal is.”
“The big deal is the way he was touching you. No one should touch you that way, except me.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut, obviously trying to reign in his temper. Opening his eyes, he appears wounded.
“Look,” I say, trying a softer approach, “you need to understand something. When I was with Evan, he controlled my entire life. From what I did and with whom, to what I wore and where I went. This is the first time I’m able to do what I want without fear of someone looking over my shoulder. I didn’t think it was a big deal. I told him I was with you. And I am with you.”
His face softens, but there’s still fury hiding behind his eyes. “The last thing I want is to oppress you the way Evan did, but you need to look at it the way I saw it. What if you walked into a bar and I had my arms around some random woman, how would you feel?”
“We were just dancing.”
“You might have been just dancing, but I’d be willing to bet he had other ideas.” Walking toward me, Chase pulls me into his arms. “I don’t want anyone dancing with you like that, except me.”
“I never would have let anything happen,” I say.
“I know. I trust you, it’s the other guy I don’t trust.”
“It’s the same thing. I would never do what Evan did to me, and that means being with anyone but you. It takes two to tango, and I wasn’t interested.”
“Olivia—”
“You can’t come running up like Rocky Balboa if you see something you don’t like.” I lean up and kiss the tip of his nose. “I’ll try not to make you crazy, but there’s going to be a learning curve. I want to be able to do the things I want to do without fear of being told no.”
Holding me close, Chase breathes near my ear, “Just no more sexy dancing with strangers, please?”
Lost Without You: Book 2 in the Chasing Olivia Series Page 9