by F. T. Zele
No, I shouldn’t grab a drink with her, but do I listen to myself and say no? Of course not.
Me: Meet me at Jade at 8?
Liz: All right, see you then.
Great, now that I set myself up and walked into that one, I just hope this doesn’t backfire.
I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have texted him. I thought maybe I would check in since I haven’t heard from him. It was only a kiss, and I’m sure since he didn’t call me or mysteriously show up anywhere I’ve been that it wasn’t a big deal to him. I’m the one making a big deal about this, but since that night at his new place, I can’t get him out of my head. I swear, I can still feel his lips on mine.
I have been the one telling him to back off, so he must think I’m batshit crazy, asking him out, which wouldn’t surprise me. I turn from cold to hot in a nanosecond.
I’ve been alone for over two years. I get sick of being alone, but I’m nowhere ready to invite somebody into my life on an intimate level. I don’t know anything about him other than he owns bars and has an unbelievable home.
Before I know it, time has gotten away from me, and I’m driving to Jade. I don’t know what I was thinking when I asked him out for a drink. I don’t even know if he drinks. He must drink, considering he owns a bar and all.
I’m rambling in my head, trying not to think about the nervousness that is coursing through my body. I lift my hand and watch it shake, knowing that if I don’t go, I will forever be stuck not taking chances, and if I go, I will be facing my fears head-on. Since I’m already driving down the street, I go, hoping this isn’t a huge mistake.
Once my car is valeted, I walk up the couple of stairs and reach for the door with my still trembling hand. Getting inside should be the hardest part, but once I’m actually inside and it’s all lively in here, I look around for him. I step forward, scanning the crowd and spotting him at the back bar talking animatedly to Tyler.
As I make my way back there, he looks up and our eyes catch. Suddenly, everything moves in slow motion. I’m like a schoolgirl again, walking down a staircase to my awaiting date. I didn’t know I could actually feel that young again. Those damn butterflies return, taking flight in my stomach, and I step carefully, hoping I don’t look like I’m rushing back there too eagerly. Who knew all the emotions I went through when I was young could rush back to the surface so quickly?
Braxton hasn’t moved from his place but has me pinned with his eyes. I get this whole cliché romance movie vibe, and I know I’m clearly out of my element, but it feels so empowering watching him note my every step.
Just like that, everything goes back to normal when I make it to an empty seat. The loud crowd starts booming in my ears. I look around, and when I look up, Braxton is standing in front of me behind the bar.
“What can I get you, beautiful?”
“I’ll have a glass of wine. White, please,” I say, wondering why he is hiding behind the bar when I should be the one hiding.
“Coming right up.” He winks at me and goes off to pour my drink. It’s weird having him serve me, but I welcome the space. It helps me keep his lips off my brain. “Here you go.” Braxton reaches around me from behind and places my drink onto the bar before grabbing the empty seat next to me.
I lift my glass, letting the cool liquid calm the instant heat that warms me when he is near.
“Thanks. So, how are things going?” I say, having a hard time making casual conversation. I’m sure I look as rigid as a board.
“Things are hectic. Sorry I haven’t called. I have a lot on my plate right now.” He rests his hand on my knee, and I flinch, like a freaking idiot.
“I wasn’t expecting you to call me. It’s okay.” I look down at his hand, giving myself something to focus on as an internal conflict ensues.
“Hey, wanna go somewhere else? It’s loud in here, and I can barely hear you. I hate to say this, but you don’t look so comfortable here,” he says, standing and signaling. I don’t really have a choice anyway, so I go with it.
“Sure.”
Standing, he whispers something to Tyler, then is handed a bottle of wine and two glasses. He holds out his elbow, and I leave my glass of wine on the bar and loop my arm around his as we make our way through the crowds of people. We get to a staircase off the front of the bar and head up it. Once we’re at the top, he hands me the bottle of wine.
“Hold this for me, real fast.” Fishing out some keys, he unlocks the door and takes the bottle back from me, holding the door open with his arm. “Welcome to my office.”
I step inside, looking around at this huge room. One wall has a bunch of flat screens with video of the place from every angle. The other wall has a black leather couch. And then his desk is a large, executive, mahogany wooden desk with detail carved into the legs. It seems very Braxton in here, and the one thing I think is, how I don’t want to sit on that couch. I’m sure plenty of willing women have had their naked asses on it, and that thought grosses me out. I choose to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk.
When I sit down, I get a confused look from him. “Don’t you think the couch would be more comfortable?” He sets down the wine and glasses on a side table next to the couch.
“I’m sure it is, but I’m good here. Nice office you got here.” I signal around the room with my hand.
“Are you always this uptight?” he asks, challenging my sitting arrangement.
“I’m not uptight. I just don’t want to sit on the couch. I’m sure many naked asses have been on it, that’s all.” Rolling my eyes, I might be quick to judge, but he does strike me as a guy who would say, ‘Let’s go make a deal in my office.’ My thoughts make me nauseous.
“Well, you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you? If you think I’m such a man-whore, why did you ask me out for a drink?”
“You know, I’m now thinking I should have thought that one through a little more,” I say, fucking everything up. Yep, definitely certifiable at this point.
“Look, you don’t know me from Adam, so stop pinning insecurities on me. What bit you in the ass today?”
“I was wrong for coming here. I’m sorry I wasted your time when you have a bar to run. I should go,” I say, reaching for my bag. I don’t know why I thought I was okay doing this. I’m out of my comfort zone.
When I reach the door, I grab the handle, but Braxton stops me by clutching my hand and spinning me around until my back presses against the door and he’s standing in front of me. He puts his hands on the door beside my head and leans in close and whispers into my ear, “I think you came here for something and are now second-guessing your judgment. I think you’re hiding, and you’re scared, scared to feel how good it could be. I know you felt that too the other night. I’m not sure I wanted to feel that, but I’m not running. Liz, I’m an asshole. You’ll figure that one out soon. I told myself to stay away from you, but I can’t. One fucking kiss was all it took to know I need more of you.”
The way his breath tickles my neck when he speaks closely does everything to cloud my brain. I did feel it. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to act on it.
“I . . .”
“Shhhhh,” he says, holding a finger to my lips. Normally, I would be pissed if someone shushed me, but fuck, if he weren’t so fucking hot.
Crashing his lips to mine, he sends sparks of electricity down my body as his hands find the back of my neck. Pressing his body flush against mine, I get lost in the moment, getting high off the lust that is filling the room. Reaching out, I push my hands under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his back and setting my nerves at ease.
“You’re going to ruin me, Liz,” he rasps, breaking from my lips for a second before placing them to my neck. His kisses send tingles down my spine, and a warmth begins building between my legs. I don’t stop him when he starts unbuttoning my shirt, trailing kisses along my collar bone. When he finishes with my shirt, he pushes it off my shoulders and drops it to the floor. Feeling exposed, I remove my han
ds from his shirt to cover my chest. He grasps my hands, lifting them above my head and holding them against the door. “Don’t, I want to see you. You’re even better than I could have ever imagined. Do you know how beautiful you are?” he says, looking at me with the sexiest smile I have ever seen.
I shake my head no to his question, unable to form words at this moment.
“I promise, after I’m done with you, you won’t ever have to think you are anything short of amazing. Wrap your legs around me.”
I didn’t know just talking to me like that would make me do anything to keep him going. I do as he says and wrap my legs around his waist as he walks over to his desk and sets me down on top of it. As he kisses every part of my exposed skin, I attempt to keep my breaths even. I lean back, resting my elbows behind me and lowering my head, feeling every single touch.
“Fuck, Liz. You’re exquisite.” I lift my head, stealing a glance of him, as he pulls his shirt over his head, exposing his inked upper arm. I have never been a fan of tattoos, but holy shit, it’s a sight to take in. He has bad boy written all over him, and for once, I’m not scared. Dragging his tongue between my breasts and making his way down to my stomach, he reaches for my zipper. “If you want me to stop, you better tell me now. Because once I start, I won’t be able to stop myself.”
I nod breathlessly, giving him the answer I know he is looking for. He makes quick work of my zipper, sliding my pants down my hips. The lower he kisses, the warmer I get between my legs, realizing how much I’ve missed this hungry need for someone to touch me. Once my pants are off, he trails one finger down the middle of my panties, and I shiver from the contact.
“So wet. When was the last time you let someone touch you, Liz?” he says as he blazes kisses down one thigh then back up until he reaches my lips. As our mouths crash together, I forget everything that is right for me and pour my need into his mouth, greedily taking what he’s giving me.
Banging on the door suddenly halts everything.
“Braxton, we got an issue out here.”
“Handle it!” he yells to the door.
“It’s a Code Red, man. Get your ass down here.”
“Fuck, I’ll be out in a second.”
Braxton looks beyond pissed, and I don’t think I want to know what a Code Red means.
“Liz, wait here. I have to go handle something. Fuck, I’m sorry. I’ll be back. Don’t let anyone up here. I’ll lock the door behind me.” Throwing his shirt over his head, he rushes out the door.
I put on my shirt and pants, feeling embarrassed of what I almost let happen. What the hell was I thinking? I get the urge to run out of here. I grab my stuff, and, for safety reasons, I look at the cameras and see a crowd gathered on one side of the bar. I then make plans to sneak out to the front door undetected.
I make it downstairs and look in the room when I catch a glimpse of the back of Braxton’s head as he’s talking to Tyler. Tyler sees me, and I hold up a finger to my mouth, asking him to be quiet.
Already with my ticket in hand, I give it to the valet and ask him to hurry. When he pulls my car around, I hand him a tip and run to my car door. Stupidly, before I hop inside, I take one more look and connect with Braxton’s eyes. Shit. I slam my door and take off. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I see him watching my car drive away.
And once again, I’m running away.
I make it home in record time and run from my car to my house, trying to get inside as quickly as I can. I would run right back to the ward, if I thought it would help at this point. My head is spinning out of control, and I’m losing my footing on stability. I have no control over my own thoughts.
When Braxton told me I could ruin him, it didn’t hit me until now. I’m the one who’s bound to be ruined by him. He takes over my body and makes me do things I would never in my right mind do, just because he knows he can. Holding on by strings to survive this massive storm, I pray I have the strength to make it through and not get taken away with the tide.
Once I’m inside my house, I slam the door behind me and lean my back against it in defeat, reliving the short satisfaction I received. Recent memories start flashing in my mind of being pressed against the door with Braxton’s mouth all over me,
Once Tyler knocked, I had to get far away from there. I wouldn’t have been able to look Braxton in the face once he came back to me. Shit got bad in a split second when the space was put between us. Was he expecting me to stay on his desk topless and just wait there? If he did, he is a bigger asshole than I ever thought he was.
Pained by my own decisions, I sink to the floor and touch the skin where I still feel his lips lingering.
“Stupid, so fucking stupid!” I scream to myself.
You don’t ever joke around about a Code Red here, and you never spare a second when you hear those words. It’s the worst problem to have to handle. It took all I had not to kill the fucking guy who did this.
Code Red is the term we use when a person is down after something has been slipped into their drink. I don’t stand for that shit in my place. It’s the lowest of lows. I’ve been dealing with cops swarming the place, checking everyone, asking questions, and turning my bar into a fucking joke. My bar!
Tyler said he was watching a guy who had been following this girl around the place after hearing her tell him numerous times to take a hike. He never saw him actually slip her something, but when the shit kicked in, he saw her go from upbeat to eyes rolling back into her head, and he knew it was time to take action. Once he called the authorities and made them aware of the situation, he had two of the female bartenders guide the girl behind the bar to make sure she was safe. Then he set off to keep the guy from going anywhere.
Fighting broke out, creating widespread chaos and sending some people running for safety while others watched. If I had just been monitoring the screens in my office, I could have prevented this, but no, I was too far gone in the drug that is known as Liz.
When I heard the sirens, I knew help was on the way, so I walked to the front to greet the paramedics. That’s when I saw Liz jumping into her car, and I felt like I was sucker punched in the gut. It killed me to see her running away again. She spends so much time running away, and it makes me feel bad that whatever her demons are, they have control over her every move.
Once the madness calms down at the bar, I leave to check on her. I drive to her house, imagining the irrational thoughts going through her head. Now that I’m here, It’s taking all I have not to get out of this car and bang her fucking door down to finish what we started.
I’m all riled up, and I don’t think going to her door like this will put her at ease. It will only push her deeper into her hole, and I wonder if I have taken this too far, knowing I have no intentions of being anything more to her than I am right now.
The craving takes over, and I can’t sit here anymore driving myself mad without knowing. I walk forcefully to her door, determined to clear this up. It hurts me to the core thinking she is embarrassed being with me. I didn’t want to do anything but make her feel good and beautiful. I pound on her door, probably too hard, but I’m in the moment and acting purely on adrenaline. The feelings are raw and needing to claim her is consuming my dark soul. When she doesn’t answer, I pound again, making my presence known. I need to see her face. I need to know she isn’t as fucked up over this as I am.
“Open the door, Liz. I know you’re standing there. I just know.” Resting my forehead on the door, I start to feel defeated. If I can just get her to open the door, I can make her understand this isn’t only affecting her. She is tearing apart any logical thinking I have left. I’m obviously thinking with my dick at this point. Clearly, I know she’s dangerous for me.
All I see is Liz—the way she trembled when I touched her with her head tilted back, accepting what I was offering and showing me she isn’t as scared of me as she claims to be. The door clicks open a crack, showing me a sliver of her behind it. She obviously feels like she needs this space between us
, like she doesn’t trust herself around me, which is probably right. I have never been the one you want to bring home to Mom.
“May I come in?” I ask quietly, trying the gentle approach before I have to rip the fucking door open. That stupid tiny chain holding the door can be jerked off the wall with one small push.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m just gonna go to bed. I hope everything was worked out at the bar.”
She pushes the door closed, like I don’t get a say, no right to want to talk this out. This is beyond selfish. It only fuels my fury. I knock once more, saying, “Talk to me, Liz. Are you that embarrassed by me that you couldn’t give me the slightest bit of respect to open the goddamn door? Fuck that!” What am I doing? I need to take a step back and breathe.
The door opens again, but this time, she opens it wider. Feeling the slightest relief, I walk inside and don’t wait for her to follow. I need to walk a moment, get the blood to calm down a bit. I don’t know why I put myself through this magnitude of bullshit with someone who isn’t interested. She’s looking to feel something, and I’m not sure if I’m the one who’s going to be doing that. The fact I already have to convince her I’m not some punk because of my tattoos and filthy mouth should have been my first indication this was a bad idea. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever claimed not to be an asshole. I just seem like less of a pile of shit when she’s near me.
This is bad, oh so bad, but I take the leap. I don’t even think I want to touch her— it’s way deeper—I need to touch her. I need to feel her tiny frame under me. That way, once I’ve satisfied the craving, I can get on with everything I have been slacking while she consumed my thoughts.
“You just left when I asked you to stay in my office? Why couldn’t you do that one thing for me? I had to stand there and watch you drive away like some spooked horse. Why can’t you cut the shit already? What are you so scared of?” I can’t turn around and look at her yet.