by Michelle Amy
“What about your friend? Want to have a good time, sweetheart? We’re nice guys, I swear. We’ll just go a little ride. Get you feeling a bit better. What do you say?”
Carly was too paralyzed to offer an answer of his own. This only encouraged him. He moved forward and put one hand on my ankle. He traced his finger up the seam of my jeans and then tightened his grip on my knee. “I like a girl who has a bit of fire, but I don’t like a girl who doesn’t do what she’s told. Get in the car.” His snarl made me recoil.
He reached out to grab my wrist, but one of the men behind spoke up.
“Come on, man, let’s just leave them. The blonde is covered in vomit anyway.”
The man in the oversized sweater paused midway to me and looked back at the one who spoke. It was the one who had been smoking. He stood behind and slightly to the side, like he wasn’t really a part of what was transpiring. Both hands were tucked into the pockets of his jeans, his thumbs peaking out.
The one who reached for me stood and faced the other man. “Didn’t Lucas tell you we are very good sharers?”
The smoker shrugged his shoulders and I heard the leather of his jacket creak. “I’m not one for sharing, personally. I’m also not big on blacked out chicks. So let’s keep it moving.”
“Blacked out?” The man held his arms out wide and his sweater grew in size. “McCoy, who said anything about being blacked out?”
The one called McCoy shrugged again and turned away, stepping down off the curb of the sidewalk. “That’s what it looks like to me.”
This comment didn’t seem to sit well with the others. It ruffled their feathers. Their attention was no longer on me and Carly, but on McCoy, who had now turned his back on them and was making his way slowly across the street and back to the car. He paused, lit another cigarette, and looked back at all of us. “Are you all just going to stand there with your dicks in your hands?”
Apparently the answer was no. The two who hadn’t said a word the whole time followed McCoy out on to the street. The other, the one who made me feel like he was undressing me with his eyes, glared after them. He looked back down at me. “Maybe next time, sweet lips. Have a good night.”
Then they were gone. They loaded themselves into the car and started it up. I expected them to spin their tires and tear out of there in a chorus of loud music and hollering, but their departure was relatively silent.
I blew out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Carly got unsteadily to her feet and I stood beside her. I brushed the grass and dirt off her pants and offered her my shoulder again to continue walking home.
She shook her head. “I’m totally sober now.”
We made it back to my house in record time. Relief washed over me when we locked the front door. I stood in the entrance of my place for several minutes before I pushed myself off the door and went to the kitchen. I brewed us a pot of coffee and we sat in subdued silence in the living room. I invited her to forgoe the couch and sleep in my bed that night. She happily obliged.
CHAPTER TWO
My sleep was restless and riddled with images of the smoking man on the street. His rough drawling voice soothed the terror that gripped me in my nightmare and stirred me awake. It was late morning and I was alone in bed. I sat in silence for a moment before hearing Carly being sick in the bathroom out in the hallway.
I swung my legs over the bed and went to boil water for tea. I grabbed a Ginger Ale from the fridge and took it to the bathroom. Carly opened the door for me and I stood with one shoulder leaning against the doorframe. She took the Gingerale gratefully and sipped it slowly.
“Never again,” she shuddered.
“You said that last time.”
She leaned away from the toilet she had been hunkered over and sat back on her heels. She took another mouthful of soda. When she spoke, she wouldn’t look me in the eye. “I’m sorry I was so useless last night, with those guys. I didn’t realize… I’m such an idiot.”
“Car, it has nothing to do with you. They were a bunch of creeps.”
“Except the one guy,” she said, her eyes finally sweeping up to meet mine.
I thought of McCoy for the hundredth time since meeting him. “Yeah.” I couldn’t stop thinking about him. My imagination was toying with me, devising images of his lazy walk and attitude. His broad shoulders and messy dark hair tickled something in me that I hadn’t been able to silence. I wanted to see his face. In my dreams his features had been hidden in constant shadow, just like they were last night. My curiosity was killing me.
Carly giggled. “Oh girl, I feel you.”
I shook my head and couldn’t help but smile. “I didn’t think you’d remember much about him. You were pretty hammered.”
“Oh, I remember him. Tall. Dark. Sexy as hell.” Her eyes widened and she clutched her stomach. “Oh God,” she groaned, shooing me away from the door while she clutched the bowl of the toilet again.
I left her in peace and finished making my tea in the kitchen. I drowned out the sounds she made by turning on the radio, and hummed along to every song in an attempt to distract myself from the tantalizing thoughts of the stranger who had saved us.
✤
I was useless at work that week. I spent my time running my usual errands for my boss, Lisa, but was incredibly scatterbrained. She chastised me for bringing her the wrong coffee on Monday, and scolded me for leaving the wrong pens out at the settings I prepared for her publishers meeting. I was her assistant, and although her demands were tedious and somewhat preposterous at times, I loved my job and rose to every occasion. I never let her down, well, usually. But this week was havoc. My brain swam with images of him, and try as I might, I couldn’t stop myself.
It was unhealthy. I knew it. I had to find a way to get my mind off of him and focus on something else. Something that wasn’t dangerous and rugged and effortlessly cool and-
Enough, Veronica. Pull yourself together.
It was as I was sitting at my desk outside Lisa’s office that she wrenched the door open and hollered my name. I had been staring at my screen saver for who knows how long, thinking about him, even though I had challenged myself not to spare him another second of my thoughts.
“Veronica, may I see you in my office, please?”
I stood and straightened my desk before I left; in other words, I made sure the loose papers were stacked neatly beside my computer, and I dropped all my pens back into their cup. Lisa watched me with a sour expression and clicked her tongue for me to hurry up.
Her office was nicely decorated. It had a soothing vibe to it that contrasted Lisa’s very uptight, take no prisoners kind of attitude. She stood behind her desk and crossed her arms, then pointed her chin at the seat in front of her, asking me in her own way to sit. I sat down, crossed my legs, and uncrossed them again.
“So.” She started, looking at me expectantly.
I wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted me to say. “So…”
She rolled her eyes and dropped down into her own chair across the desk from me. “Veronica, you’re the best employee I’ve ever had, and I can’t help but notice that you haven’t been… what’s the best way to say this?” She glanced at her ceiling as she searched for the right words. “You haven’t been entirely present, this week. You know what I mean?”
“I don’t think so.” Of course I did.
Lisa clasped her hands in front of her. I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger on her massive glitzy wedding ring. “What I mean is, you’ve been off in la la land since Monday morning. Now, I’m a little worried about you. It’s not like you to be so spaced out. Is everything okay?”
This was a strange change of pace for me. My relationship with Lisa had been strictly a professional one for the last four years. She had given me some time off when I left Jason, sympathizing with my situation. She had confided in me that she had gone through a similar experience, and suggested I treat myself to long baths and lots of wine to get over him. Since then, everything
we had ever discussed had been about work. Now she had noticed I was behaving differently again. Could I really be this hung up on a man I didn’t even know?
When I didn’t answer her Lisa cleared her throat. “You don’t have to tell me, Veronica, I respect privacy. But if you need someone to talk to- a non biased party- you can talk to me.”
“I uh…” Perhaps a neutral opinion could be helpful. I found myself hoping that Lisa could give me the approval that I wanted desperately from Carly. So I began to tell her about the other night with McCoy, and his rag tag group of perverts. “And then,” I finished, “they just followed him and everyone got in the car.”
Lisa pursed her lips. “And you can’t stop thinking about him?”
“No,” I shook my head. “I dream about the guy. I can’t get him out of my head. I know he’s bad news. I know that. I’m not stupid. But I’m so distracted all the time.”
Lisa nodded. “It’s an obsession. It will go away with time.”
“An obsession?” Her matter of fact tone and the word obsession frightened me. Weren’t those the kind of things people wrote books and made movies about? I wasn’t that girl. I was a smart girl who kept her head down. A girl with priorities. All of which could go straight to hell if I got tangled up with a man like McCoy.
Lisa laughed lightly. “My dear, I don’t think you need to fret. It will pass with time. Spend time with your friends. Carly, right? She’ll be a good distraction. I’ve met her. She’s crazy enough to keep you well entertained. Don’t you think?”
I shrugged. It was most likely true. Most likely. “I’ll try.”
After that Lisa sent me home early. She claimed I needed time to ‘sort my thoughts out’. I wasn’t going to argue with that logic. I quickly gathered my jacket and purse and shuffled out the door, ignoring the longing looks the others in the office gave me as I escaped to freedom.
Freedom that was still riddled with daydreams of a tall, handsome, dangerous man with a deep voice and bad smoking addiction.
When I got home I took some of Lisa’s old advice. I had a bubble bath and read a book while sipping on a cider. The book was a welcomed reprieve from my thoughts. Carly came over and let herself in with the key I left under my mat and was preparing dinner. She gave me a wide grin when I came into the kitchen wrapped in a silk robe. My hair was knotted on top of my head in a towel. Carly held up a bottle of wine from the counter. She wiggled it back and forth and nodded at two of my wine glasses. “We need a night out. And by we, I mean you. I know you’re all wrapped up in this McCoy guy, but we both know he’s bad news. You need to move on and find a healthier infatuation.”
“Aren’t all infatuations unhealthy?” I asked, draping my denim jacket over the back of my kitchen chair and starting the hunt for my always missing corkscrew.
Carly shrugged. “Maybe. But some are worse than others.”
I found the corkscrew in one of my drawers and set to opening the bottle of wine. I poured us each a glass and as I took my first sip, I tried to force my features into a neutral expression. “I’m not wrapped up in him. I was just intrigued by him. There’s nothing for me to move on from.”
“Oh please. It’s written all over you. He has you wrapped around his finger and he never even spoke a word to you.”
“Okay,” I admitted. “So I have a crush. It’s no big deal.”
“It’s a big deal when said crush hangs out with a bunch of creeps. Not to mention, he seemed to have a lot of authority. You want to get involved in that?”
“Carly, I never once said I wanted to get involved with him. I don’t even want to waste any more time thinking about him. I just can’t help it.”
“Exactly,” she grinned and sipped her wine. “Let’s go to the bar and find you a distraction. I’m sure we can find a guy to fit the bill.”
“I’ve never had a one night stand, I don’t think I want to just throw myself to the wolves like that.”
“It’s not throwing yourself to the wolves. You’re so dramatic. And if you don’t want to take him home and fuck his brains out you don’t have to. But you could let a hot guy buy you a couple drinks. No harm in that.”
Carly wasn’t one for modesty. I scrunched my nose and tried to picture myself taking a stranger home. It was an uncomfortable thought. Clearly, Carly’s mind was made up. She was wearing her favourite top and her makeup was immaculately applied.
She stirred something that smelled amazing in a pot on the stove. “Go shave your legs, and whatever else needs tending to. I’ll finish dinner. Then we go hunting.”
For some reason, I did as she said. I even moisturized my entire body.
We went to our go to place, a hole in the wall pub called The Coachman. It was a popular place with a rock and roll kind of vibe. Although it looked rough on the outside, the inside was a friendly and cozy atmosphere that always set me at ease. I felt in my element surrounded by the red cushioned booths and denim clad men. The music was always upbeat and it was the perfect place to meet new people.
Carly and I sat at the bar together, and I had my feet resting on the gold footrest that ran along the front of the bar. The bartender balanced his duties well, sliding us new cocktails when he saw that our drinks were empty. He took orders like a machine, processing the information over the loud music and passing off drinks in jaw dropping time. He wasn’t bad looking either.
Carly bumped one shoulder into me. “Come on, pick a different one. An attainable one.”
“Are you saying he’s out of my league?”
“No, he’s definitely within your league. But he’s married.” She made wide eyes at his left hand which rested on the bar a few feet away from us as he took another drink order.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. And a homewrecker you are not.” She spun herself around on her barstool and leaned backwards, crossing her hands over her knees. “Hmm. Look at this buffet.”
“Stop it.” I was humiliated. My cheeks were burning and it wasn’t from the alcohol.
Carly grinned. “You’re such a prude. You’ve had sex with one guy. One guy, Veronica. And it’s been how long? He dumped you nine months ago? And you’re still too afraid to talk to someone who doesn’t have a vagina.”
“Ugh.” I put my forehead in my hand and tried to shrink into myself.
“I’m not saying you’re pathetic,” Carly continued, “I’m just saying you need a release. You need to move on. Jason was a dick. And you wasted a lot of time with him. Seven years, to be precise. Just talk to a guy. Feel what it’s like to flirt again. It’s good for you. I’m worried.” When she confessed her concern her voice softened and she put her drink down. “Seriously. How long are you going to pine after Jason?”
“I’m not pining.”
“You are. You still have his number in your phone. You still have all your text messages from him saved. Memories are good to keep, but not when someone walks all over you like that.”
I bit my lip. She was right. Of course she was right. Jason, my high school sweetheart and the man I thought I was destined to marry, had cheated on me. And not just a little fling towards the end of our seven years; he had been having several affairs with several women for years. I had never suspected a thing. I had my whole life mapped out in my head. My pinterest account was full of wedding dress pictures and ideas for venue decorations. I was juggling baby names and gushing every time I saw a baby out in public. I had been convinced that I finally had everything figured out, and I was going to live the perfect life with the perfect man.
Then it all blew up in my face.
Carly suddenly turned back to the bar and caught the bartender’s attention. When she asked for her bill I raised an eyebrow. “You just going to leave me here?”
“No, no, of course not. But, maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m pushing you to do something that just isn’t your cup of tea. It’s all good. Let’s just go home and have a quiet night in. We can paint our toes. What do you think?” The smile that was plastered on h
er face was just as unbelievable as her sudden change of heart.
“Uh-”
She handed the bartender a fifty dollar bill and hopped off the stool, pulling me down with her. “I just have to pee first,” she said, “come with?”
“Okay, Carly, are you alright? What’s gotten into-”
“No time, really gotta pee, come on.” She pulled me forward by the hand. The urgency in her dumbfounded me and I began to follow. Then I heard a familiar drawling voice order a beer behind me.
I stopped walking. Carly looked back at me with pleading eyes.
I looked over my shoulder.
It was him. I couldn’t see his face as he wove through bodies and tables in the bar. He moved with the same lazy gait that he had that night. Women’s eyes all around flicked to him as he cut between them. Men eased out of his way when they saw him coming. He didn’t seem to notice the immediate reactions of those surrounding him. It was clear that he had one purpose: get to the bar.
My eyes lingered on the line of his broad shoulders and how his muscles moved beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. I couldn’t help but let my gaze fall to his bare forearms. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing arms decorated in veins and bare wrists. The rest of him was impossible to see through the sea of people in the bar. He was hidden behind red dresses and swirling skirts as he made his way through a few intoxicated dancers.
I still couldn’t see his face as he grew closer. Carly was tugging on my elbow and pleading with me to go with her. He was too close for me to miss my chance to see what he really looked like. I would finally have the opportunity to find out if he was really worth all the fantasizing that had consumed me for the last week.
I pulled my elbow free of her grip when McCoy reached the bar and settled down on to one of the stools. He chose one that had no one on either side of him. I heard his drawling voice over the crowd when he ordered a beer. Carly’s fingers closed over my hand and she gave it a squeeze.
He took his beer from the bartender and turning his back to me as he leaned against the bar to survey the room. He was dressed casually; a long sleeve black shirt on top of dark denim. I needed to see his face. The compulsion was uncontrollable, and I slipped my hand free of Carly’s and returned to the bar, moving to stand in front of McCoy.