With You: With you, I am who I want to be.

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With You: With you, I am who I want to be. Page 5

by Jensen Kristyne


  I smile and nod my head. "Okay, Wes. I’d love a drink."

  “You got it!”

  The night trails on, and like I promised in the car, I keep to myself. Like a fly on the wall, I repeat Becks' words in my head. But, not two seconds after Wes hands us our second drink, a huge party comes in and swarms the bar. Most of them are frat guys, so poor Wes is having to make drink after drink as they down their shots like water.

  Becks grabs my hand and leans over the bar to yell, "We're going to go dance!"

  "Come again?" I try to resist as she pulls me behind her.The group of guys, keeping Wes busy, whistle behind us as we walk away. Becks just flips them the finger and keeps moving.

  We dance for what feels like hours, until we make the decision to head back to the bar for another drink after the heat has set in and we're both covered in a light sweat.

  "Damn. I like a woman who knows how to move." A guy sitting in the stool beside me licks his lips. I pretend not to hear him. Instead, I stare down at the end of the bar where Wes is and silently beg for him to hurry back. "I mean, I could watch you all night. You . . . those legs. . . that—"

  "Gross, guy. Neither of us are interested in anything you've got going on. So save yourself the time and take it somewhere else." Becks leans around me to snap. Her copper eyes are alive under the blue back glow of the bar.

  "Well, I wasn't talking to you. Was I?" the guy raises his voice. His hand reaches out to touch the bare skin along my back while he leans into my side. The feel of his fingers moving over my skin makes me shudder in disgust. His beer breath, nauseatingly potent, as he mumbles, "I was talking to sweet tits."

  Sweet tits?

  "Ew, get the fuck off her!" Becks shouts, eliciting Wes to look up from where he’s standing, down at the other side of the bar. I see his face screw up in anger, and he immediately drops a glass.

  I shove the guy when I feel his hand skim the lower half of my dress. His other hand fumbles with his drink, causing it to spill on my arm.

  "Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Wes barks as he rounds the bar to step in between me and the guy.

  "I just wanted to talk to the pretty blonde," the guy growls, probably more annoyed that I spilt his drink than the fact that he is being confronted for being a creep.

  "Well, now you can talk to the bouncer as he walks your ass out of here!" Wes yells. As if on cue, two guys walk up and escort the guy away from the bar and out the front door. Wes turns around and places his hands on my shoulders. "Are you okay?"

  "Yes, thank you," I say and take the towel he hands me.

  "Fucking creep!" Becks grabs the other towel from the bar top and starts wiping the drink off her dress. I wrinkle my brow up at her, curious as to what she’s really more pissed about: The drunk guy hitting on me or her potentially ruined dress?

  Wes hurries around the bar and hands us two more towels. "We’re about to announce last call. Why don’t you two head back to the office? You can clean up and then we can hang out after we close?" He hurries with fixing a drink while he waits for our answer.

  Becks looks up at me, her hand still mindlessly wiping the bottom of her dress. I can tell that she wants to stay but doesn’t want to be the one to say it—probably worried about what Wes will think if she does. So before I can talk myself out of it, I say, “Sure." Because what’s the worst that can happen? Someone else spilling their drink on me?

  chapter seven

  BRIELLE

  I sit back on the leather chaise and run my hands up my arm. The soft material is cool against my exposed skin.

  "Somehow, I don't think you should be sitting there," I say as Becks twirls the chair around behind the desk and rolls her eyes at me.

  "Oh please. It's just us." She leans forward. Her fingers trail a stack of files that lie in disarray across the desk's top.

  Shaking my head, I pull out my phone and see that it’s close to two in the morning. So much for not staying out long. I roll my eyes. I’m move to put it away, when I see the text notification from Luca and open the message app.

  Hope ur having fun. Txt me when u need me.

  My fingers trail the screen as I quickly type out a response.

  Sounds good. Thanks.

  I start to wonder if he had already fallen asleep, when the phone goes off, and the screen comes alive in my hand.

  Welcome. See u soon.

  "Looks like they're hiring more waitresses," Becks says as I look up and find she’s holding one of the files. Her eyes filter down the page as she reads. "There's no way those boobs are real."

  “Becks—”

  Down the hall, a door slams shut, startling us. I can see Becks panic as she throws the file down and races over to where I'm seated. Her hands fluff her hair, while she prepares herself to see Wes again. I set my phone down on the couch and stifle a laugh, when I hear the door pop open. But when I raise my eyes, I feel my heart constrict. It's not Wes.

  Not even close!

  Stumbling into the office is the tall blonde from last night. The one with the perfect legs, and great hair that seems too perfect to be real. She throws herself against the closest wall, and a body comes with her. That’s when I see him. Theo. He pulls her from the wall and shuts the door.

  "Oh, God," the girl moans, her hands working to lift the back of his shirt as he walks her further into the room.

  "Stop. Talking," he growls into her neck. His hands reach down to lift her legs, expertly wrapping them around his waist. The spiral of black-inked tattoos dance under the soft glow of streetlights that bathe the office in a warm light.

  Oh my God.

  I cover my face with my hands, my cheeks burning as I try to think of a way out of this. My own personal form of hell. Sadly, the only way out of here is through the door and that’s obviously not going to work.

  No. No. No. This isn’t happening, I silently think to myself as I pull my hands back, only to see Theo press himself into the curve of her body. His hands are quick as he grabs her bottom and carries her with him.

  Becks reaches for my hand and covers her mouth. She is definitely enjoying this way more than she should be.

  "Tell me I'm pretty," the girl moans, and I silently die inside.

  Feeling nauseous all of a sudden, I close my eyes while focusing on trying to steady my breaths. This is so uncomfortable. What the hell is Theo doing here anyway?

  I shrink back into the chaise and cover my face again. With every moan I feel my heart sink, and I’m instantly angry at myself for feeling anything at all. So, Theo has a girlfriend. So what? Why should I care?

  "Yes. Take. It. Off." Becks claps, as I look over to see Theo's shirt being tossed to the ground.

  "What the fuck?" Theo turns around to face us. The abrupt way he drops the girl on the desk, sends papers flying off the back. He eyes Becks before turning to me, and I watch the color drain from his face. "Where the hell did you two come from?" His voice is so loud that it echoes. "Get out!"

  "Oh come on! As if you mind giving anyone a show." Becks simply smiles at him. Her ability to downplay even the most embarrassing situations, a talent I’ve witnessed more than a handful of time. "Now, be honest with me. Have you been working out?"

  "Um . . . is everything all right in here, ladies? I heard some shouting, and I—" Wes calls out from the hall, leaning into the room. His eyes shift between Theo and the girl, the two of us and then Theo's shirt; a sly smile spreads across his lips. "Oh shit."

  Theo’s eyes meet mine again, and within a second I’m on my feet. No one has to ask me twice to leave.

  “Wait. We’re leaving? Now?” Becks whines still sitting comfortably in her seat.

  “Wes, get her the hell out of here!” I hear Theo yell from outside in the hall. I hug the corner as Becks slowly gets up and strides across the room.

  “Fine. Rain check then.” She laughs.

  Grabbing the handle, Wes starts to shut the door, when I hear Theo curse under his breath. At the last second, I lo
ok up, and catch his eye through the crack in the door. He looks more pissed than I would have expected him to be, which only hurts more because it must mean that he really likes this girl. Then, the door shuts, and he’s gone.

  “Drinks?” Wes struggles to keep a straight face.

  “Yup!”

  “Definitely!” I walk back to the bar.

  Four shots and two drinks later, and I forget why I was so mad.

  Theo who?

  “Um, Strawberry Shortcake?” Becks laughs as she slams her glass down on the bar and slides it back to Wes. This little game he start two shots back, where he mixes something and we have to guess what it tastes like, is harder than it seems.

  "What? Not even close," he says, disbelief clearly etched across his face. He shifts his focus and waits for me to guess.

  I lift the glass and finish the drink. The sweet concoction goes down easily, a gentle burn replacing it. I’m well beyond my usual two drink max. I set down my glass and shrug.

  "Maybe . . . I don't know . . . Jolly Rancher?" I’m slurring, but I’m past the point of caring. I don’t know why but watching Theo and that girl earlier affected me. It stirred up old feelings, and is messing with my head. But since Becks is refusing to let me text Luca so that we can leave, what the hell else is there to do?

  "Close." Wes smiles, grabbing my glass. "It's Pink Gummy Bear number three."

  "Number three?” I ask loudly. “You made that up! Gummy Bears don't have numbers." I can’t stop myself from laughing. "There's just the red one, the green one, the pink, and—"

  "Look, don't take it out on the name just because you two are the absolute worst at guessing games.” He smiles.

  Becks cackles on her stool and almost falls off.

  "Okay. Okay." Wes laughs with us, pouring something brown into each of our glasses, which he’s been shaking for the past minute. He wipes his hands, then slides them back. "Last one."

  Raising my glass I swirl the brown liquid around before smelling it. Mmm. It’s sweet and reminds me of chocolate. I take a sip. "Oh wow," I moan. It’s absolutely delicious. I open my eyes and cover my mouth, embarrassed when I see Wes is watching me. But I can’t help myself. It tastes too good. I take another sip and try to fight through the dizzy haze that is my mind until I realize that the flavor is familiar. I lick my lips.

  "So, you like it then?" Wes grins from behind the bar, his eyebrow shooting up.

  I nod my head and then finish the shot.

  "It’s Snickers!" Becks yells from her seat, waving her empty glass in Wes’s face. “That was an easy one.”

  "No! Wrong again.” He leans back and captures her glass with his hand. "You're up, Brielle. Don’t let me down."

  I roll my glass between my fingers and bite my lip. "I don't know." I hand mine back to him. "Maybe . . . Reese's Peanut Butter Cup?"

  "Yes! Finally!" He reaches out to high-five me.

  “Thank you. Thank—”

  "What the hell is going on in here?" A voice appears behind us. The harsh tone catches me off guard and I whip around, nearly falling out of my seat.

  "Are you drunk?" Theo’s eyes fixate on me from across the room. The gentle concern I hear in his voice makes me smile, until I remember how he looked pinning that girl to the wall. Before I know it, he’s at my side. With one hand, he grips my lower back and, with the other, he holds my arm. He curses under his breath, then mutters, "Jesus, Brielle."

  "I'm fine," I say, even though I know it’s a lie. I can feel the liquor burning its way through my veins.

  Theo’s hand on my back gives rise to goose bumps that spread along my skin. He looks down at my dress, then back up at me. The tiny muscles in his jaw pop under his stubble. "What the fuck, Wes? How many drinks has she had?" He glowers at his Wes as if he plans on killing him.

  "Chill out. She said she’s fine." Wes rocks his head from side to side as he rounds the bar and takes a seat next to Becks, who’s twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers.

  "Um, hello. Still here." I glance between the two guys. The hard glare pressed along Theo’s face softens the moment our eyes meet.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  I crinkle my nose at the question, when I find that the response I really want to give is too heavy of a conversation for how drunk I am. So, instead, I wrap my other arm around his neck, and let him lift me back into my seat. I can smell the mint on his breath as it hits my cheek.

  “You smell good.”

  “And you smell like a pillow case on Halloween.” Theo laughs and pulls back to look at me. I feel something in my chest pinch when I remember how much I love his laugh.

  “Well then, you must be happy. I know how much you like candy.”

  “I love candy.”

  A figure moves in the distance, and it’s the girl from before. I watch her examine Theo and I together; an angry expression pulls along her mouth.

  "Sorry to break up . . . whatever this is. But do you plan on coming back to your office sometime today, Theo? Or am I just going to have to finish off what you started on my own?"

  I lean around Theo’s shoulder and find that, thankfully, she does still look normal enough. Definitely not like someone who just recently had sex in the back of a club. Or at least, I assume. I wouldn’t know, personally.

  Wait.

  Did she just say . . ."Your office?" I loudly interrupt. The heaviness of the alcohol is stripping away my manners. "What does she mean your office?"

  Theo laughs once, seeming amused by me. "This is my club."

  "What? But you just got here?"

  “Actually, I’ve been back for a couple months now,” he says. The corners of his mouth draw back into a handsome smile as he leans into the back of my stool. It’s then I feel the warmth of his breath behind my ear before he whispers, "Not that I care, but does Luca know where you are?" His tone is so calm, but I can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s mocking me.

  What does Luca knowing have to do with anything?

  "Hello? Theo are you coming or not?" the girl whines. Her long legs cross at the ankles as she picks at her nails and leans against the wall. "Better yet, let’s just head back to your place."

  His place? I grimace at the idea.

  I watch Theo’s face fall when she finishes, and at the same time, I shift away toward the opposite side of the stool.

  "Katrina, go back to the office and wait for me there," he tells her. His words are cold and low.

  Sighing dramatically, the girl turns and heads back down the hall.

  "Well, she’s lovely. You always did know how to pick them." I try not to laugh, turning around to face the others. I rest my head on my hand and lean over the bar top—not sure why the idea of them going back to his place bothers me so much.

  I try no to notice that he hasn’t moved.

  “Brielle—”

  Suddenly the entry door slams shut, and the sound of muffled voices and multiple pairs of feet shuffle toward us. I twist around in my stool, when the ceiling lights click on, and I’m temporarily blinded. The harsh glow of the florescent lights bleaches the room and makes me feel like I’m back at a police station.

  I blink, and when my eyes settle it’s like looking at the place with new eyes. Much like the outside of the club, the original walls of the old mill are visible; the perfect blend of red brick and solid concrete that span the length of the interior and give off the feeling of warmth. Along the sides, large wooden beams reach up into the ceiling and give meaning to the placement of cocktail tables and lounging areas, which surround them.

  I’m not sure what I expected it to look like, but I’m surprised to see that Theo has made the effort to build the club’s renovations around the building’s original architecture—almost as if he cared about trying to preserve its history.

  "Whoa," Becks says, "this place is huge."

  "Yeah, Theo did a great job with it. It was a steal, really."

  “It’s—”

  Beautiful,
I silently finish her sentence.

  "Hey, look, new girl," Ethan says when I see the wild mess of red hair round the corner.

  Oh, great. It’s that guy.

  His tawny eyes slide across the room. “I heard I missed out on some interesting revelations last night. My sister just couldn’t stop talking about you.”

  “Really? Shoot. And here I was preferring that neither of you thought about me at all.”

  “Damn. I like her,” the guy standing beside Ethan says, and I instantly recognize him as one of the cellular zombies from last night. The sound of his English accent and those jet-black spikes aren’t something I would forget. I tilt my head and watch him walk over to the bar and take a seat. "Nice to see you again, love."

  Like he used to years ago, when random guys would flirt with me, Theo squares his shoulders and moves to stand between us. He’s easily a foot taller than the guy, as he stares down at him with a murderous glare. "I’m sorry, who the fuck are you?"

  "Oh that’s Blake," Ethan says as if that will mean anything to Theo. “And sorry about the impromptu walk-in. We saw Wes’s truck and wanted to see if he might be down for having a little after-party. Hope it’s cool. We bribed the bouncer, and he let us in.”

  Theo turns to Wes, who throws his hands up. “Don’t look at me. I had no idea about this.”

  “Oh come on, Theo.” Penny moves across the room. She circles Theo, like a hawk circling its prey, and works her way until she’s standing directly in front of him. She flips her long, red hair over her shoulder and runs a hand along Theo’s chest. “Don’t you want to play?”

  My eyes grow wide, and my jaw falls slack as I turn around and cut Becks a glance. The tiny ounce of relief I feel is reassured when I find that, much like me, Becks looks equally taken back. I hold my breath, waiting for Theo to answer.

  No. No. Say no!

  “Fine. But only if porcupine over here keeps to his own fucking lane.”

  “His lane?” Penny’s brow arches at Theo’s statement. Her eyes slide between Theo and me. “Right. Just to be clear, whose lane is she in, again?” She points to me.

 

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