by Harloe Rae
“Yes, I have her. She’s not a thing, Trey.”
I’m well aware, fuck you very much.
Instead I say, “Whatever. Good luck with all that.”
Raven huffs while Delilah snips, “Gee, thanks. Have fun with your next victim.”
“Gladly.” I offer a middle-finger salute.
What a waste of time. But the night is still young. I stride away wearing a smirk.
Time to get laid.
REGRETS
Raven
AS I CRACK my lids open, the morning light stings my dry eyes.
“Ohhhh,” I whine pitifully while clutching my pounding head. “Why did I drink so much?”
Delilah moans from the other room, echoing my pain. “You’re not the only one. Pretty sure my skull is splitting open,” she croaks through the thin wall.
“Big mistake, D. We’re not in college anymore.” The words scratch from my parched throat. “Need water.”
She staggers into my room clutching two bottles and flops onto the bed next to me. She hands me one, and I greedily guzzle the cool liquid. I sigh at the sweet relief.
“Better?” Delilah asks after chugging her own.
“Much.”
“Just wait until we’re thirty. That’s when I hear the real hangovers start.”
“I doubt we’ll still be slamming shots on Saturday night at that point.”
She scoffs. “Speak for yourself. I’m never growing up.”
“You’re the most responsible twenty-two-year-old I know. Well, most days.” I laugh and immediately wince. “Ah, that hurts.”
Delilah pats my cheek. “You’re so sweet. I appreciate the rave review. But let’s talk about you putting me to shame last night. It’s probably for the best I stopped trying to keep up. Who knows how we would’ve gotten home if that was the case.”
Blurry memories from the bar flicker through my sluggish brain. I squint against the harsh glare bouncing around the room while recalling most of the evening. There are some definite gaps, though. Especially after midnight.
“I don’t even remember getting back,” I complain. Unease tightens my chest and a heavy dose of guilt filters in. I shouldn’t be so careless, even with Delilah watching out for me. At least there was no threat of being picked up by a stranger. Living off Main Street conveniently places everything within walking—or stumbling—distance. But wait. “Did Trey—”
“Drive us home? Yes.”
“Oh, God. Did I almost—”
“Throw up in his truck? Yup,” she says.
I scowl at her. “Stop cutting me off. Why would he do that?”
Delilah chuckles. “Didn’t give him a choice. After feeling you up, he owed us. There was no way either of us were walking even a few blocks. He was definitely regretting it when you nearly puked all over his floorboards. I’ve seen that guy ten shades of pissed off, but you about shoved him over the edge.”
“Super. I’m never going to live this down.”
“Probably not.”
“Thanks, biatch. Everyone will catch wind of this by tomorrow. I’ll never be offered a ride home from anyone again.”
“Trey won’t say anything. Your secret is safe. Unless you piss me off. Then it’s totally going viral,” she jests.
“Don’t forget about all the photographic evidence I have saved of your drunken nights.”
“Raven! You wouldn’t,” Delilah gasps. “I thought you deleted those?”
I wiggle my eyebrows. “I need a way to keep you honest. So, keep filling in the plot holes and I’ll let it slide.”
“There isn’t much to it. I strolled over and told him it was time to go.”
“Just like that?”
“Of course not. Trey put up a fuss, but one look at us and he could tell I meant business.”
“What? Were we really that bad?”
She bats the air. “Nah. We were fine. Well, at least still standing. I made it seem far worse. Everyone has their soft spots. Even Trey.” She rolls her eyes. “Just like Addy said, I guess. Turns out girls walking home alone doesn’t sit well with him.”
“That seems odd. Not sure why he’d care about that.”
“Right? Not like he’s ever stepped up before. Not that I’ve ever asked. But this is Trey we’re talking about. He doesn’t do anything unless there’s something in it for him.”
“So, what was the trade-off? Do I owe you a large sum for cab fare?”
“No, silly. You promised to sleep with him.”
“What?” I shriek before immediately flinching. “Ouch, that was loud.”
Delilah starts cackling and points at me. “That expression is priceless. Oh, wow. And seriously, Rave? You honestly believe I’d let you trade sexual favors for a measly ride?”
I shove her and get a slice of satisfaction when she almost topples out of bed. “Hey! No need for roughhousing. We’re in a delicate state, and I’m just fucking with you. Let’s take it down a notch or twenty.”
“That wasn’t very nice, D. I feel shitty enough as it is.”
“Aw, I’m sorry. But not really. You totally deserve it for nearly giving me a panic attack. If you’d barfed, guess who would’ve cleaned it up? Definitely not Trey.” She shudders and sticks out her tongue. “You know I hate anything to do with vomit.”
I cover my burning face. “Why don’t I remember any of this?”
“Maybe because you drank away the sexual frustration with a bottle of booze? Once Trey scampered off, you decided more drinks were needed. A lot more. And who was I to say no?”
“Such a good pal,” I mutter. “Effing Trey.”
“You didn’t seem too unhappy with him. Probably would have been screaming his name all night if I didn’t step in.”
I grumble, “Yeah, right. I wouldn’t have done anything.”
She turns to face me. “Rave. You were practically climbing him like a tree. Or maybe a pole would be a more appropriate example in this case.”
I toss a pillow at her before we crack up. “Why didn’t we call an Uber?” Delilah gives me a blank stare. “What?”
“Oh, my sweet friend. Where do you think we are? Those apps are useless in Garden Grove. You walk or find a ride. Hence me hailing Trey. He was plenty pissed. You should have seen his face when we wobbled over. Too bad you can’t remember the steam coming outta his ears. We totally cock-blocked him. It was hilarious.”
My stomach squeezes tight. “Shit, that’s bad. I’m really embarrassed.”
Delilah rolls her light eyes. “Why? He’s the one who should be ashamed. The girl he was chatting up was gross. We did him a favor.”
“If Trey didn’t already hate me, he officially does now.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Who cares?”
“I do!” The words are a wail. “I hate it when people are mad at me. Even if they’re the enemy.”
“Meh, you’ll learn to live with it.” She snuggles deeper into the pillow.
I shake my head. “I shouldn’t have gotten so wasted.”
Delilah waves me off. “Oh, stop. Most people were far worse off, trust me. Something about a live band brings out the wild and crazy side. It’s alright to indulge every now and then. You just graduated from college, for crying out loud. That’s the best reason to let loose, and you’ve definitely earned it. Don’t beat yourself up, Rave. We’re respectable ninety-five percent of the time,” she snickers. “But yeah, you were acting like a woman on a mission to forget.”
“I blame Trey.”
She whoops. “See! Now you’re getting it. He’s the perfect scapegoat for bad decisions.”
I sit up slowly and grip my temples. My mind spins while trying to fill in the cracks. There was music and dancing and cocktails and . . . shit.
Trey. So. Much. Trey.
The first time we met, he’d been sitting down so I missed how tall he was. Last night, he towered over me with his solid muscles and hard . . . everything. A shiver ripples through me as I recall his ste
el bulge grinding into me. My thighs squirm, and the temperature suddenly spikes as a flush blankets me. I peek over at Delilah, but she’s messing with her phone, clueless to my internal struggle against the lust pooling in my belly.
I release a long breath. Damn. If she hadn’t interrupted, what might have happened? That’s a bumpy road to wander, not to mention useless. I tuck my chin and pinch my lids shut. I should have felt intimidated or weak by Trey looming in front of me. All I felt was protected and safe. I wouldn’t have given in, though. He’s too crass and cold, exactly the opposite of my typical taste. Trey is not the type of guy to get romantically involved with. I huff and smack a palm to my forehead.
There’s nothing romantic about him.
He was blunt and honest about that, clearly explaining he’d wreck me. My heart races as I consider what that involves. But, no. I’m not going there with him—ever. Maybe we’ll learn to tolerate each other or, by nothing short of a miracle, become friends.
I want to talk to him, have an actual conversation. If given a chance, I could share my story with him. Let him know I understand gut-wrenching loss. Just the notion sounds like a bad plan but the seed was planted when Delilah told me about his family. Putting myself in Trey’s direct line of fire is most likely the stupidest idea ever, but my heart tends to lead the way. Even though Trey has been nothing but rude and callous, there’s something deeper speaking to me. Perhaps it’s his sad coffee eyes or the heavy armor he’s dragging around.
Did everyone really turn their backs on him? Letting him wallow and suffer alone? If that’s the case, it’s no wonder Trey is closed off.
No matter what Delilah says, I find it hard to believe he’s happy being the town asshole. I don’t know Trey’s history other than the secondhand version my friend blurted out. There has to be misery mixed with the madness, right?
I want to offer him . . . what exactly? A helping hand? Maybe a shoulder to lean on? A peek at my emotional scars? I scrub down my face while imaging his reaction. Pretty positive Trey could care less about anything I have to share.
But why did he drive us back? He didn’t have to do that. Dammit, I wish those moments weren’t trapped in a fog. I’m driving myself crazy with these dead-end thoughts.
A loud snap in front of my face jolts me from the Trey-daze. I shake my head and look over at Delilah. “Why’d you do that?”
She giggles. “Are you gonna survive?”
“Huh?”
“You’ve been caught in a serious stupor, gazing out the window like the glass has all the answers. What’s the deal?”
“Oh,” I mumble with a gentle toss of my hair. “I was lost in thought.”
“About?”
“Last night. Being dumb.”
Delilah rolls her hand in a circle, silently asking for more. I just shrug and she huffs.
“Well, that’s cryptic. Better not be about you dry-humping with Trey. Lucky for you, I need some strong coffee before diving into this dilemma. So, for now, you’re off the hook.”
I ignore her assumption. “Yes. Caffeine is needed to restore normal functioning.” Hopefully a few cups of java will clear my mind so I can stop obsessing about what could happen.
“How great is it that we live right above the best cafe around?”
A chuckle bursts free from my tight lungs. “It’s also very convenient for rolling out of bed and heading straight to work.”
“Exactly! This building is my one-stop-shop. Another perk of growing up here. I got dibs when the place went up for rent.” She fist pumps. “Boom. Done.”
“And it has extra room for your college bestie.” I wink at her.
“That’s the best bonus yet.”
“Aww.,” I coo with a pat to her back. “Let’s finish this love fest downstairs.”
Delilah claps happily. “And then I’m introducing you to the Greasy Spoon. Best hangover cure known to mankind.”
“Hence the name?”
“They know who to target. The breakfast specials are the greatest deal too. You’ll be addicted in no time.”
“I’ll need the strength for working in the kitchen tonight. I found a new chocolate-peanut butter frosting recipe to try.”
“Freaking yum,” she says. “You know that’s my kryptonite. The Spoon is about to have some serious competition. Your master baking will turn Jitters into the place everyone stops for their morning fix, whether it be coffee or tasty treats.”
I smile easily, my spirits lifting along with my lips. “We make a great team, D. And the adventure is only beginning.”
TRAITOR
Trey
I FINISH LOADING the coupe onto the flatbed before securing the tow cable. I make quick work of cranking the ratchets until all the chains are tight. After inspecting the binds a final time, I hop down onto the gravel roadside. The car’s owner has been waiting patiently and smiles once I’m in front of her.
“You work fast. I like that,” she rasps while shielding her eyes from the glaring sun. “Didn’t catch your name yet, handsome.”
“Trey,” I tell her and point to the tag on my shirt. “And you are?”
“Olive.”
“Nice to meet you.”
She smiles. “Likewise. Are we all set here?”
I nod and lean against the trailer’s bumper. “Yup. The garage is about twenty minutes from here. Do you need a lift? I’m assuming you’re not from around here,” I say while studying her closer. “If you were, I’d know.”
“Yeah, I live an unfortunate distance away. Especially in this type of situation. I called a friend, but she’s an hour away.” Olive bites her lip and plays with the plunging neckline of her shirt. “Looks like I’ve got some time to kill.”
Regardless of having been stranded in the blistering heat, this woman is smoking hot. Damn sure she knows it too. Without being completely obvious, my gaze roams her ample curves and sexy assets. Her tiny shorts show off plenty of leg, including a hint of ass. She doesn’t mind my appraisal in the slightest. Instead she bends closer, putting her cleavage in my direct line of sight. This time, I’m not shy about checking out her generous rack.
I scratch along my scruffy jaw. “Is that so? Well, I can give you ride.”
She hums. “That sounds . . . promising.” Her breathy voice is dripping with filthy suggestions. My stomach tightens as I continue gawking at the endless expanse of exposed skin. Seems luck is finally on my side.
“Damn, babe. I’m supposed to be professional, but you’re not making it easy.”
Her laugh is all tease. “You don’t need to play nice for me. I’m looking for some fun. Or maybe trouble.” She steps into me and peers up through lowered lashes. “How about both?”
I clear my throat and focus on Olive’s flawless features. She’s beautiful and willing. I’m horny and long overdue. But this chick’s hair isn’t blonde and her eyes aren’t blue.
What the fuck?
No way.
My teeth grind as I shove the stupidity away. That Raven nonsense has no place here . . . or anywhere.
I smirk at Olive to mask the bullshit clouding my judgement. “Where to?”
Her expression turns predatory as she moves against me. “Your truck cab looks spacious. Maybe we take a tiny detour on the way to your garage. What do you say?” she whispers in my ear.
How can I say no to a proposition like that? Simple—I don’t.
My fingers dig into her narrow hips and squeeze. “Best plan I’ve heard in a long time.” Yet my heart is calling me a liar. I ignore my pounding chest and lead Olive to the passenger door. After getting her settled, I take my time rounding the hood. A few moments alone will put a lid on the chaos swirling inside me. Once I’m behind the wheel, the clarity isn’t much better. When the diesel engine roars to life, the rumbling pipes jolt me out of the fog.
The summer heat is screwing with me.
I crank the air conditioning and wink at Olive, who’s practically foaming at the mouth. Damn, that’s a sight
for sore eyes . . . and other neglected areas. But my typical enthusiasm for getting laid is still lacking.
Luckily there’s a bit of a drive before reaching any suitable destination. I’ll get my shit sorted by the time we get there, wherever that is. My distracted mind flickers through spots we can stop as the tires roll along the empty highway. A section of abandoned warehouses isn’t far from the shop and the threat of getting caught there would be minimal. That’d work out all right.
The silence stretches between us a bit longer before Olive breaks it. “So, Trey,” she purrs. “Tell me about yourself. What keeps you busy, other than saving deserted women?”
I smirk at her comment. “I definitely enjoy passing the time with beautiful company. Other than that, I run the garage with my uncle. Living the dream.”
She leans against the center console and strokes my bicep. “All that manual labor is doing your body good. I can’t wait to see what these clothes are hiding.”
Her overtness would usually be welcome but in this moment, I’m forcing myself not to recoil. I recall the ballsy bimbo at Dagos a few weeks back and compare that exchange to now. There aren’t many connections to make, but I’m finding my reactions similar.
But why? What the hell is wrong with me?
Olive is extremely attractive and definitely my type, yet I’m struggling to get on board. I refuse to give voice to the reason practically blaring inside my head.
This has nothing to do with Raven. No fucking way she’s ruining sex for me.
A dry chuckle escapes me. “You’ll find out what I’m packing real soon. We’ll be at the lot in a couple minutes.”
“Why wait? Nothing wrong with getting a head start,” Olive suggests. I’m unsure of her meaning until fingers begin walking up my thigh. I jerk slightly, and she snickers. “Easy, tiger. Just a little tease to get us going.”
I press back against the seat and adjust my position, but there isn’t far to go while driving. With a slow exhale, I defy the resistance hammering into my skull.
“Damn, babe. Diving right in. I like your style.” My voice is a rough scrape, which Olive mistakes for arousal.
“Of course you do. Men love a woman taking charge. Just relax and let me play.”