Comfort Zone (Awkward Love Book 4)

by Missy Johnson

  “When am I ever helpful?” she reasons, with a shrug. “And I’m British. Offensive is what we do.” She takes a sip of her drink and makes a face. “And if you want offensive, try the coffee.”

  “Hey, this coffee rocks,” I say defensively.

  “It does,” Laura agrees. “Sorry,” she adds with a shrug when Annie glowers at her.

  It’s Monday afternoon and Laura, Annie and I are catching up for coffee at La Rez, a trendy little café in downtown LA. I take a sip of my coffee and nod, appreciating the full flavor of the hot liquid as it slides down my throat. I’d become somewhat of a coffee connoisseur over the last few weeks.

  A month ago, following a very heated argument over where to get the best coffee in LA, the three of us had entered a bet—or as I liked to call it, war. Every week, one of us chooses a place to meet for coffee. If the majority agrees the coffee is above average, then the chooser gets a point. The person with the least amount of points once we’ve each chosen ten places must pay for coffee for the next six months.

  “I still have no idea how the fuck I’m on one point,” Annie mutters.

  “I agree. I was sure you’d stay on zero,” I tease. She makes a face at me. “Maybe you just have really shit taste?” I suggest with a laugh.

  “That would explain why I let you hang around,” she retorts.

  “Can we get back on topic?” Laura cuts in. She flashes me a wide grin. “How can we be sure you’re going to be able to control yourself on this road trip?” she teases.

  “With Grammy in the back? Yeah, I’m sure that we’ll be getting up to all sorts of nonsense,” I retort. “Never mind the fact that I know he’s only doing this to mess with me.”

  “Or maybe he’s into you, and wants to get you alone?” Laura suggests.

  “Yeah, because it will be so romantic, just the three of us.” I shake my head. “She sounds like she’s going to be a handful. I’m pretty sure his claim that he needs help is legitimate.”

  “So, explain to me again why Grammy won’t fly over here?” she adds, frowning.

  “Because she hasn’t flown in forty years,” I say. “I can sort of understand it, considering her husband died in a plane.”

  “Crash?” Laura guesses with a wince.

  “Not quite,” I admit. My lips twitch. “He had a heart attack while his wife was sucking him off halfway between Berlin and LA.” I grin at her. “But at least he died happy.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Laura giggles. “Fuck. How old is she and how long ago are we talking? No wonder the poor woman is mortified of flying.”

  “Ninety-six and she was in her thirties when it happened, I think,” I explain with a sigh. I feel bad about laughing. And here I am thinking my problems are bad. How do you explain something like that to people? “So she can’t fly and Jake is freaking out because his Grammy isn’t going to be at his wedding. What kind of friend would I be if I don’t help Jake out?”

  “How is Jake, by the way?” Laura asks.

  “If I was actually allowed to speak to him, I’d tell you.”

  “What happened?”

  “I’m not entirely sure, but I did something to offend her. For a change. Anyway, I need to do this for Jake.”

  “Isn’t your parent’s sex ceremony this weekend?” Laura asks. Her eyes shine. “Your mother will kill you if you miss it. Hey, maybe you can take Grammy with you? It sounds like just the kind of thing she’d be into.”

  “It’s a reconnection ceremony, and there’s no way in hell that’s going to happen.” I shake my head adamantly. “Both she and Liam will be staying in their rooms. I’ll lock them in there if I have to.”

  “You invite your professor and then you’re not going to let him go?” Laura teases. “That’s not very nice.”

  “He’s lucky I’m helping him out at all,” I reply. I know she’s baiting me, but I’m getting annoyed all the same. “I’ve got enough to handle with my mother at the moment, without adding Liam into the mix. The only positive out of this is that maybe spending all this time with Liam will trigger my memory.”

  “So, you still don’t remember anything about the bachelor party?” she asks sympathetically.

  “Nope.” I shake my head sadly, my anxiety levels kicking up a notch just thinking about it. “Not a single fucking thing. Well, beyond the point where I threw myself in his lap and kissed him.”

  “Are you sure you really remember that, or was it just something your mind has pieced together from the photos?” Annie queries.

  I frown. I hadn’t thought about it like that. The memory is hazy enough that it could’ve been influenced by the photo.

  “Could you walk straight the next day?”

  I whip my head sideways to glare at Annie.

  “What? That’s how I always tell.”

  “Seriously?” Laura snaps, screwing up her nose.

  Annie shrugs innocently, but her eyes are shining. She winks at me, which pisses me off more. I know she’s trying to wind me up, and I hate that it’s working. I want nothing more than to shut her down with a retort, but she might have a point. The panic must be obvious in my eyes, because she claps her hands and laughs so hard she nearly falls off her seat.

  “You little slut! That’s it, isn’t it? That sexy professor so dipped his stinger in your honey.”

  I groan and fall back on the seat, smothering myself with the cushion. My heart races. I’d remember if we had sex…wouldn’t I?

  Unless he was really fucking bad at it.

  No. I can’t imagine that being true.

  But how do I explain the fact that Liam made the same comment about my ability to walk? I sigh, feeling defeated. This is one of the rare moments where I feel like shit has gotten the better of me.

  “Hey, it’s okay, we’ll work this out.” Laura grabs my hand and gives it a comforting squeeze when she sees me getting worked up.

  “Yeah? How?” I challenge her. My eyes sting.

  God, I’m about to cry.

  “You didn’t see the way he smirked at me when I walked into that class, Loz. I’m fucked.”

  She frowns and looks at Annie for help. Annie jumps off her seat, her eyes wide with excitement. I’m almost afraid to ask her what the problem is, but then my curiosity gets the better of me.

  “I just had the best idea. We’ll go back there!”

  “Go back where?” If she’s saying what I think she is, then it’s the worst fucking idea I’ve ever heard. “Go back to the strip club?”

  “Yes,” she says, nodding furiously. “Come on, it’s perfect. Once you’re there, it will all come back. You’ll remember everything.”

  “You’re just fishing for a night off from the kids,” Laura accuses her.

  “Oh, like you’d knock back a child free night and some free booze,” Annie scoffs. Laura grins, knowing that Annie has a point. Annie clasps her hands together and squeals. “Then it’s settled. This is going to be so much fun!”

  “Hold up, free booze?” I frown suspiciously at them.

  Annie shrugs innocently. “It’s only fair. We are helping you, after all…”

  “Uh, who’s helping who, here?” I snort. “And you do realize it’s a strip club, right? We’re talking more boobs than a breastfeeding convention.”

  “Honey, I haven’t had a kid free night in four freaking months,” Annie growls at me. “I’d suck someone’s tit if it means I get to let my hair down and drink. Work with me on this, Becca. I’m begging you.”

  I laugh and shake my head. It’s not like it can make things any worse, right?

  “Fine, but not tonight,” I groan. “I’ve had enough drama for today.”

  “Well, I have choir practice at the church tomorrow, so that rules that out,” Annie murmurs thoughtfully. Both Laura and I turn to gape at her. She glares back at us. “What? It’s relaxing. Stop judging me.”

  “Then Thursday it is,” Laura announces. “You really want to sort this out before your road trip,” she adds when I h
esitate. “Unless you want to hash out what happened between you guys, with Grammy in the back?”

  I glare at her, secretly impressed she managed to say that without laughing.

  “Thursday sounds fantastic,” I grumble.

  After the girls leave, I call Amy. I’d been wanting her to meet Laura and Annie, and Thursday seems like the perfect opportunity.

  “About fricking time you called me back,” she curses. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been dying over here. Bloody dying. Tell me what happened,” she begs, her tone switching from annoyed to pleading in a matter of seconds.

  “Sorry if I’ve cut you off from your source of entertainment,” I say dryly. “But this might make up for it.”

  “You want a three way with me and Professor Sullivan,” Amy blurts out. “Because I’d totally be up for that.”

  “Good to know.” I giggle. “And sorry to disappoint, but I’m just seeing if you want to come to the strip club Thursday night? Annie, one of my friends, has this stupid idea that it might help me remember.”

  “Fuck yes,” Amy says. “I’m there. Count me in.”

  “Good.” I grin. “I’ll text you the address—”

  “No need. I used to work there.”

  “Really?” I giggle. This is news to me.

  “Bartending, Becca,” Amy growls. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

  “The kind of girl who would rather eat someone’s appendix than go down on her dad’s best friend,” I quip.

  “It’s a game, Becca,” she mutters. “And if you saw him, you’d understand why I’d put anything in my mouth, before him.”

  “See you Thursday.” I chuckle and toss my phone down on the couch.

  If nothing else, Thursday night is going to be a laugh.

  Chapter Nine

  Becca

  Thursday comes around much faster than I was expecting and before I know it, I’m standing in front of my mirror, getting ready to go out. My nerves have kicked up about three hundred percent, because I can’t stop thinking about what follows Thursday.

  Friday.

  Wow. Look at me, mastering the days of the week. The next thing I know, I’ll be counting to twenty. But tomorrow isn’t any old Friday, it’s road trip day. From when he picks me up in the morning, for the five hours it takes to get to his mom’s, it will be Liam and me, alone, in his car, with the weekend hovering over my head like a fungal infection.

  I know my problems are trivial compared to what other people might be going through, but that doesn’t make them any less anxiety inducing. This entire scenario of not knowing if anything happened between Liam and I on Saturday is stressing me the fuck out. This vulnerability is a new feeling for me and not one I like.

  My usual way of dealing with stressful situations is to brush them off and pretend they don’t matter, because if everything is a joke, then I can convince myself that it’s no big deal when things go wrong. It’s a protection mechanism that I didn’t even realize I had until now. What makes everything worse is that Liam knows exactly what went on.

  I give myself one last look over in the mirror and then walk out of my room and into the kitchen. Both Mom and Dad look up when I walk in. Dad smiles, but Mom narrows her eyes suspiciously. That right there shows you how different their parenting styles are.

  To Dad, I’m his little girl who can do no wrong. To Mom, I’m her little girl who does everything wrong.

  “Where are you off to?” Dad asks.

  “Just out with Laura and Annie,” I explain. “And Amy,” I add. “How’s the foot?”

  “Still broken,” he jokes. “It’s okay. I can even put weight on the cast.”

  “Going anywhere special?” Mom asks, still frowning at me.

  “Probably a movie?” I shrug, like it’s no big deal. “How’s the planning coming along?”

  All I’ve heard about for the last four weeks is this ceremony. I probably know all the details better than they do, but it’s the only thing I know will distract Mom. Just as I suspected, Mom’s face lights up as she gives me the run down on what’s going on. The problem is, now I can’t shut her up.

  “Run,” Dad jokes when she pauses to answer her phone.

  I chuckle and take his advice, grabbing my keys and purse off the counter.

  “Night Dad.”

  #

  “Okay, there are some rules before we go in.”

  I turn around to stare at Annie in the back of the car and then Laura, who sits next to me. We’re outside the club, after I was roped into driving them because I owe them.

  “Three drinks and I’m cutting you off. Got it?”

  “Three?” cries Annie. “What am I, fifteen?”

  “You act fifteen most of the time.” I pause to study her. “But you look closer to forty.”

  “What the fuck, Becca—”

  “Don’t worry,” Laura assures me after shooting Annie a look. “We know why we’re here. I’ll keep Annie in line and we’ll work this out, I promise,” she assures me.

  I hope she’s right. We get out and while Laura leads a still fuming Annie toward the entrance, I wait outside for Amy.

  “What are you doing?” Laura frowns, turning back to me.

  “I’m just waiting for Amy,” I explain. “I invited her.”

  “Ah, the elusive Amy,” she teases. “I was beginning to think she was just in your head.”

  “No, she gets me in too much trouble not to be real.”

  “Yo!”

  I turn around and smile at Amy, who’s running up the sidewalk, her blond hair flapping around her in the wind. How she manages to move that fast in her six-inch heels and a dress so short I’m afraid to watch her too closely, I have no idea. Then again, I guess you’d need to know how to move, working in a strip club bar. I’m still shocked by that revelation. Did she wear the required uniform, short shorts and nipple tassels? I chuckle, because if that look was going to suit anyone, it would be Amy.

  “Thanks for waiting for me,” she puffs, leaning against the wall for support. She glances at Laura and Annie, and smiles. “You guys must be Becca’s friends?”

  “Laura, and that’s Annie. Guys, this is Amy.”

  After they exchange greetings, we walk inside. I push through the doors, feeling strangely nervous about being back here. It’s early evening, so it’s pretty quiet, but there are still a few people sitting at the bar, or down in the lounge area, watching a show.

  I brace myself and look around, relieved when nobody calls out my name. I was half expecting the place to erupt into cheers and applause, or request an encore, but I’m just another chick walking into the strip club with a bunch of other chicks. Okay, so we’re getting a few looks…

  Maybe nothing happened, and I’ve just blown everything out of proportion.

  I’ve almost convinced myself that I’m off the hook, when I start to notice things. Like the chick behind the bar, who I swear is trying not to laugh as she sneaks glances at me. I cross my arms over my chest and stare at her until she looks up again. His gaze drops as she focuses extra hard on pouring six little shots of vodka. Then I see who she’s serving. Annie. A laughing, singing Annie who from here, looks like she’s flirting with the bar chick.

  “Shit, already?” I groan.

  “What?” Amy asks.

  “Annie. She’s into the alcohol already.”

  “So?” Amy shrugs. “You’re not her mother. Do what you’re here to do and then worry about everyone else.”

  It sounds harsh, even for me, but she’s right. If Annie is intent on making the most of tonight, then nothing I do is likely to stop her anyway.

  “Come with me.” Amy takes me by the hand and leads me over to Annie.

  “I know Mandi. I used to work here, remember?” Amy’s eyes shine. “Maybe I’ll actually be useful to you.”

  I lean with my back against the counter and raise my eyebrows at Annie, who scowls back at me, then orders herself another round.

  “This is
your idea of helping me out?”

  Annie looks up and frowns at me.

  “Fun police,” she grumbles. “I look forty, remember? What else am I gonna do but get drunk and forget my miserable life?” She stands up, taking a moment to keep her balance, before she walks off in Laura’s direction.

  I groan and turn around. I wasn’t serious when I told her that. I’d wanted to wind her up, which I clearly had. It annoyed me that she could shovel shit out, but then she acted like this when anyone gave it back to her.

  “Sombrero! I’m surprised to see you back here.”

  I snap out of my thoughts and stare at the barmaid. Amy nudges me hard in the side as the chick behind the bar grins at me.

  “Mandi was just filling me in.” She laughs. “You little hussy!”

  “You remember me?” I ask Mandi. I’m not sure I want to know the answer to that.

  And what the hell does sombrero mean?

  “It’s a bit hard to forget someone who steals a sombrero and dances along the top of the bar, wearing that and not much else.” She lets out a husky laugh as Amy bursts into laughter.

  Oh.

  “A sombrero? Man, you’re such a tool!” Amy’s eyes light up. “Hey, what song was she dancing to?”

  Mandi struggles not to laugh. “‘I’m Too Sexy,’ by Right Said Fred.”

  “No fucking way.” Amy giggles. “Oh, please can we do a recreation?” she begs me. “I’d do anything to see that. Even Dad’s friend.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

  Why did I invite her, again?

  “There’s no need to pay to see it when I can get you it for free.” Mandi laughs.

  Huh?

  “Just Google Right Said Fred and Sombrero. I’m pretty sure it’s still the top hit.” She grins at me. “I think the owner of the club was looking for you, too.”

  Oh Fuck.

  “Don’t stress, you’re not in trouble, or anything. It’s just we’ve had so many people come in here looking for Sombrero Girl, that I think he wants is to see if you’re interested in doing a few shows. You’re a social media sensation,” she adds.

  “If she doesn’t, then I will.” Amy grins. “Throw a sombrero on me and they won’t be able to tell the difference.”