One More Drink: New Year Bae-Solutions

by Wright, Elle

He stepped forward.

  I held my hands out to stop him. “Don’t move.”

  “Ronnie, what’s wrong?”

  Maybe I’m panicking for no reason. I took a few calming breaths. Nope, I’m still itchy and hot and… Dammit.

  “I get it. It was too fast.” He backed up—all the way to the other side of the couch. “You’re not ready? I understand.”

  I shook my head rapidly. “It’s not you.” I refused to move my hand from my mouth. “But… What was in that drink?”

  He frowned. “Apples, cinnamon, cloves… And strawberries.”

  My eyes widened. “Strawberries? Oh no. I’m allergic.”

  The first time I’d eaten a strawberry, I was three-years old. My mom told me she had to rush me to the hospital because my entire face swelled up. The second time, I was thirteen. I’d decided to test the waters again because I wanted to eat the chocolate-covered strawberries my friend’s mother had sent to our class for her birthday. I found out the hard way that strawberries... Are. Not. For. Me. And I learned that lesson after my entire class made up a new nickname for me. Mrs. Potato Head.

  After that day, I vowed to never eat anything strawberry again. I didn’t even use strawberry flavored lip gloss or burn strawberry scented candles. Oh, and raspberries? Too much like those devil strawberries. And I’d been careful about putting new things in my mouth. Until now. Until Juke had slipped me some of his cider.

  Despite that hot ass kiss, this birthday officially sucked. I had to get the hell out of there before he saw my version of Mrs. Potato Head live and in full color. “I have to go. Good kiss. Thank you.”

  Then, I raced out of the sunroom.

  “Ronnie?”

  Shit, he’s following me.

  “Let me help you. I’ll get you some Benadryl.”

  “No!” I yelled, now moving at a fast clip down the long hallway toward the bathroom. “Send Brooklyn. Please.”

  He caught up to me quickly. “I’m sorry, Ronnie. I didn’t know you were allergic.”

  “It’s okay. I’m fine.” Don’t look at him. I kept my eyes straight ahead. “Brooklyn. Can you find her?”

  Parker rounded the corner at that moment. He frowned, eyeing Juke suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing!” I assured him.

  “She’s allergic to strawberries,” Juke said. “I use them in my cider.”

  My big brother rushed over to me. “Need anything?”

  “Brook. Lynn.” I grumbled. Once I reached the bathroom, I opened the door. “Now.” Before they could say anything else, I slammed the door, effectively shutting them both out. Oh, God, make it stop!

  Chapter Four

  Suffering Bastard

  JUKE

  Sometime around my sixteenth birthday, right around the time my granddad had a fatal heart attack, I’d nearly destroyed my life because I was so angry. Angry at him for dying on me, angry at my granny for wanting to die with him, and angry at myself for buckling under the pressure.

  The entire year that followed, I’d made it my mission to find trouble. As a result, I’d been hauled down to the Wellspring Sheriff’s Office a time or two. Strangely enough, though, Sheriff Walker never arrested me, probably because he felt sorry for me.

  The few times I’d had to sit in the small interrogation room at the precinct, face-to-face with one of the deputies, I kind of felt like I did at this exact moment.

  Three minutes. Two pairs of eyes. One skeptical. One amused.

  Ronnie had slammed the door in my face. Literally. Since she’d barricaded herself in the bathroom, I’d been questioned by her brothers—my friends—like I’d committed a crime.

  “Someone should probably go get Brooklyn,” I suggested. “Your sister needs that medicine.”

  Parker looked at Bryson, then back at me. “Are you going to tell us what happened?”

  “I already did.” At least five times. “What the hell is this?”

  Bryson smirked. “You trying to get with my sister?”

  “So what if I am?”

  That kiss earlier had been an appetizer, a prelude of sorts. And I couldn’t wait to sample the main dish. Her. On my dick, in my bed, or anywhere else she wanted to go.

  Bryson and I had been best friends since he’d moved to Wellspring years ago. I’d known him long enough to know that he wasn’t really that bothered. But Parker… While I considered him a friend, he was a master at the poker face. Which was why he’d taken plenty of my money during our weekly card games.

  “I distinctly remember a conversation we had twenty-something years ago about boundaries.” Parker tilted his head, his eyes hard. “Sister off-limits. Right?”

  I snorted. “Yeah, I remember. That was around the time Brooklyn started getting breasts.”

  Bryson snickered. “You noticed.”

  I shrugged. “I’m a man.”

  “Veronica is my sister, too,” Parker said.

  “And also a grown ass woman.” I raised a challenging brow. “Correct?”

  Parker pointed to the closed bathroom door. “She’s important to us. We just want to make sure you understand… We’re very protective.”

  I smiled. “Really? I didn’t know that.”

  Bryson broke, barking out a laugh. He shoved Parker, who cracked up, too. “We’re just playin’ around.”

  “Maybe,” Parker added.

  “No sex in my house, though,” Bryson warned. “Take that shit somewhere else.”

  Jordan stepped around the corner and leaned against the wall, sucking in a deep breath. “Why are y’all all the way back here?”

  “I texted her to bring the medicine,” Bryson announced.

  “Damn, I’m outta breath,” Jordan said. “I should’ve stopped eating when I was full instead of stuffing my face.” She bent over at the waist. “Woo.”

  Bryson kissed his wife and took the Benadryl from her. “Thanks, bae.” He glanced at me. “Do you want me to give it to Veronica?”

  I snatched the medicine from him. “I’ll handle it.”

  Jordan handed me the bottle of water she had in her other hand. “Take care of her, Juke. I have to get these kids in the bed so we can start game night.” She waved and walked off.

  I looked at Parker. “You got a problem with this?”

  Parker raised his hands. “Nope.” He clasped my shoulder. “You got it. Remember what I said, though.”

  I nodded. Once they left, I knocked on the bathroom door.

  “Is Brooklyn out there?” Ronnie shouted.

  “No.”

  “You can’t come in,” she said.

  “Ronnie, come on. It can’t be that bad.”

  The door flung open. Ronnie stood there, eyes wild, clothes disheveled, face… “Ooh.”

  Her eyes widened. “See!” She tried to slam the door again, but I stopped it with my toe. “I look a hot mess, Juke.” Closing her eyes, she sighed. “Not very sexy.”

  I pushed my way in and stood before her. Squeezing her shoulders, I told Ronnie, “You look beautiful.”

  She covered her mouth and averted her gaze. “Don’t lie.”

  I cradled her face in my palms, forcing her to look at me. “Not lying. It’s just a little swollen.”

  “A little? My lips look like punching bags.”

  Handing her the pills, I said, “It’s nothing that a dose of Benadryl can’t fix.” I untwisted the cap off the bottle and gave it to her once she’d plopped the pills in her mouth.

  “Thanks.” She finished the water after a few minutes and sighed. “My night is officially done. I’ll be sleep within an hour.”

  “I’ll drive you home,” I offered.

  An hour later, after I basically snuck her out of the house, I pulled into her driveway. Turning to her, I smiled. She was asleep. I took a moment to catalog her face. Even with swollen lips and puffy cheeks, she was stunning. The more she let me into her world, the more I wanted to immerse myself into her. I hated to wake her, but I shook her gently.
“Ronnie, wake up.”

  She jolted awake. “Huh?”

  I squeezed her wrist. “We’re here.”

  A wisp of a smile crossed her lips before she sagged back into the seat. “Okay.” She closed her eyes.

  Chuckling, I got out of my truck and jogged around to the passenger side. I opened the door and nudged her again. “Ronnie. Let’s go.”

  Her eyes popped open and she grinned. “Are you real?”

  “Very,” I told her. “Come on.”

  It took several minutes for me to get her to the door because she kept stopping and patting her pockets for her keys—which I had because Brooklyn had given them to me before we left. After I ushered her inside, I unzipped her coat, took off her hat, and led her to the couch.

  Ronnie grimaced as she scratched her legs. Mumbling something about itching and no clothes, she unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them off. Damn. Next, she took off her socks and threw them behind my head. She muttered something else, but I couldn’t concentrate on her words when her painted toes, her bare legs and those white cotton panties had all of my attention. Does she have on a matching bra?

  Before she could pull her shirt off, I stopped her. “Ronnie, you have company.”

  She glanced around. “Who is it?”

  “Me?”

  Waving a dismissive hand my way, she said, “You’re not company. You’ve been here before.”

  True. I’d come to many group dinners and fight parties. I’d even helped her with her Christmas lights a few weeks ago. She’d always been fully dressed, though. And definitely not doped up on Benadryl.

  She fell back on the cushions and curled up. I grabbed the blanket off of her recliner and spread it over her. Running a finger over her forehead, I asked, “Do you need anything?”

  “Yes.” She hugged a throw pillow. “A nap. And water.”

  Exhaling slowly, I made my way to the kitchen. I found her stash of Benadryl and took two bottles of water from the fridge. When I came back into the living room, she was snoring lightly.

  I set the stuff down on the table next to the sofa. She opened her eyes and smiled. “You’re good at this.”

  Frowning, I asked, “What?”

  “Taking care of me. I think I’ll keep you.” Her eyes fluttered closed. “You should stay.”

  I dropped to my knees in front of her. “Do you need me to?”

  “Huh?”

  “Stay. Do you want me to stay?

  Her eyes locked on mine. She reached out and brushed her thumb over my bottom lip. “If you want to.”

  “I’ll stay for a little while.”

  She sighed contently. “Thanks.” Frowning, she asked, “Are my lips still swollen?”

  The Benadryl had done its work. Her mouth was only slightly swollen now. I suspected the itching would be a distant memory soon. “Not really.”

  “So I don’t look like Mrs. Potato Head?”

  I laughed. “Not even a little bit. Who told you that?”

  “Long story,” she grumbled. “I appreciate you for being here.”

  I stared at her, reveling in being near her. Tonight, we’d turned a corner and I wanted to stay on course. “I appreciate you, too. Now, get some sleep.”

  “Okay. Juke?”

  “Yes, Ronnie.”

  Gripping my collar, she pulled me closer. “If you kiss me on my forehead again, I’ll kick your ass.”

  I laughed softly. “I won’t.” Cupping her chin in my palm, I kissed her softly.

  She moaned. “That’s good. More of that, please.”

  Brushing my lips over hers again, I murmured. “Soon.”

  A few minutes later, she was sleep.

  Chapter Five

  Granny’s Old Fashioned

  VERONICA

  Mornings were my favorite part of the day. Usually, I started with a workout and a smoothie or yoga and a small breakfast. Today, though, I was late. I was supposed to have hit the road an hour ago, but I could barely get up. Must have been the antihistamine coupled with the embarrassment of yesterday.

  I finally got my kiss, but there was no retiring to the bedroom for dirty sex. No breakfast in bed after sleepy sex. No shower sex before lunch. Just me, my swollen lips, and my Benadryl.

  So, instead of starting the four-hour drive to Indianapolis, I ended up in front of Brook’s Pub. Sighing, I hopped out of the car and walked to the door. The bar wasn’t open this early, but I knew he’d be there. He was a morning person, too. And he was usually at work by eight.

  I knocked on the door.

  Seconds later, the door opened and Juke was standing there. He smiled. “Hey.”

  I’d gassed myself up the entire ride over, intent on apologizing for my dramatic overreaction in the sunroom. But now that he was in front of me, looking so fine in dark jeans and a long sleeved shirt rolled up at the sleeves, I couldn’t seem to get my thoughts together.

  He frowned. “Are you okay?”

  I shook myself out of my thoughts. “I’m fine,” I croaked finally. “Can I come in?”

  Holding the door open, he gestured inside. “Come on.”

  “Thanks.” I brushed past him and hurried toward the bar. Taking a seat on my favorite stool, I waited for him to join me.

  He pulled out the chair next to mine and sat down. “How are you feeling?”

  I shrugged my coat off and set it and my purse atop the bar. “Much better.”

  “Want something to eat? I just ordered breakfast from the Bees Knees.” He glanced at his watch. “Should be here any minute.”

  “No, thanks. I have to leave soon. My mother is expecting me this afternoon.”

  “Oh, right. You’re going to Indiana.”

  I sighed. “I wanted to stop by before I left. To thank you again for everything.” I swallowed hard. “And to apologize.”

  With narrowed eyes, he asked, “Why would you apologize?”

  “For acting deranged.”

  He chuckled, low and sexy-as-hell. The sound went straight to my pussy, like he was stroking my clit with his fingers or his tongue. Squeezing my legs together, I flattened a hand over my chest as a delicious shiver worked its way through my body.

  “Ronnie?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “No need to apologize.” He pulled my stool closer to him, so close our knees were touching. “But I’m glad you stopped by. I wanted to talk to you, too. About what happened.”

  “Before the swollen face or after?”

  He searched my eyes. “Both.”

  Nodding, I told him, “Yesterday was the longest day ever. It felt like a whole week.”

  “Tell me about it,” he agreed. “I wanted to explain myself, though.”

  Intrigued, I leaned forward. “Okay.”

  “I need to apologize to you, for leaving you hanging after the countdown. I never intended to give you that forehead kiss.”

  “Why did you?”

  His shoulders fell. “Laura and I have… a weird and complicated history. And I knew that I had to put a period at the end of that long relationship before I kissed you, before I did anything with you. Because I don’t want anything to come between us and what I see happening with us.”

  Slowly, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “What do you see happening with us?”

  “More than a New Year’s kiss.”

  I smiled. “Do tell.”

  “I can talk to you about anything, but I can also be quiet with you.”

  I felt the same way about Juke. There was a comfort level between us that made being with him easy. Somehow, we usually gravitated toward each other at events. More often than not, we’d ended up partners during game nights. On bowling league nights, he always bought my French fries. Sitting in silence with him, laughing at everything or nothing, or even playing darts on a busy night at the bar felt normal. It felt right.

  “Even though I value our friendship,” he continued, “I think it’s pretty clear that I don’t have just friends f
eelings for you.”

  “I think we’re on the same page.”

  “Alright. You go.”

  I lifted one shoulder. “Since we’re being honest, I’ll just say that I’ve never had a great relationship. There was always something holding me back. I realize now, it was me. I just let things happen, even if I didn’t like it.”

  I worked through my senior prom because my boyfriend thought he could do better and asked my nemesis instead. My college boyfriend revealed he was gay after we’d dated for two years. I smiled through that heartbreak and had even hooked him up with his current husband. My first orgasm came courtesy of a sex toy—at age twenty-two. Never mind I’d been having sex for years with my small-dicked fiancé who’d slut-shamed me for wanting to try a position other than missionary.

  “I don’t want to live that way anymore,” I continued. “At all. When I met you, I immediately felt a connection. I want to explore that.”

  “I like that. Now…” My gaze dropped to his hands, which were slowly inching up my legs. When he reached my thighs, he tugged me even closer, until I was nestled between his legs. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips. I was transfixed on the motion. “Allergic reaction aside, I’m thinking it might have been a good thing that we didn’t take things too far.”

  “A good thing?” I asked, my eyes still glued to his mouth.

  “Admittedly, I’m a little old-fashioned in some ways.”

  I forced my gaze away from his mouth to his eyes. “So, what does that mean exactly?”

  “It means…” He traced my bottom lip with his tongue. “I don’t know if I could have stopped myself from stripping you naked and letting you throw yourself on my dick. Since you meant that shit,” he added. “And I always want to give you what you want.”

  Oh shit. I dug my nails into his arms. A nervous giggle burst from my mouth. “I was definitely irritated when I said that.”

  “But I would like to take you out on a proper date before I…”

  “Make me come?” I giggled when his eyes widened. “I’m kidding.” I wasn’t.

  “Right.” He arched a brow, like he didn’t believe me. “So when you get back from visiting your mother, I’m taking you out. Just me and you. Dinner. Dessert.”