by Lane, Stacy
Taytum and I laugh, nodding.
So much has changed in the last couple months, the three of us haven’t hung out in a while. Never thought I’d enjoy my third wheel status, but here I am, riding it like the most badass trike in the showroom.
We vacated our table for a smaller hightop along the wall. Nick and I were going to play first. Strutting the eight feet to the target to retrieve our darts, I’m caught completely off guard as I turn back around.
How we could possibly see one another through the large, packed bar can only be blamed on a higher power pulling strings to play with us tiny humans here on Earth. Brooks is all the way across the room. Triplets is a big place. The hockey players hang out in the very back on one side, and the darts are in the very front on the other side.
In all fairness, their corner of the bar was like a giraffe exhibit. Most of them were well over six feet tall.
None of it matters. We’ve locked eyes.
But I froze. I’ve watched him from afar on every game he’s played in the past week and a half, but it has nothing on seeing him in person. And him seeing me right back.
I missed him.
That’s the first thought that crosses my mind.
I said being around Cam and Alex was like an extension to Brooks based on their similar features, but that’s wrong. No one compares to Brooks in any way for me. No one has ever captured me senseless. I’m stuck in this moment, on bated breath, and waiting for him to make the unavoidable move.
Does he do nothing, or will he come to me?
One by one sensation begins returning. My skin tingles, like a feather brushing up my arm and swiping along the nape of my neck and drawing goosebumps. The sounds of boisterous patrons seem to tunnel out as the distance between Brooks and me closes in.
His lips tilt up, and I copy his smile with my own.
Until something, or someone, beside him grabs his attention and he looks away.
The moment is broken. The tunnel expands and snaps back like a rubber band. The hallowed noise disappears with a shock of chatter and a clack of a pool stick smacking into billiards.
Clenching the darts in one hand, I move toward Taytum and Nick with a rigid gait.
“He saw you.” Taytum doesn’t ask or state the obvious, she just empathizes with me as I approach with a droopy grimace.
“Yep.”
“Forget the drinks and darts. Let’s go now.” She reaches for her clutch laying on the surface of the table.
I stare at them with an insistent shake of my head. “That’ll look like my feelings are hurt by him. I can’t leave now.”
“Your feelings are hurt,” Taytum calls my bluff. “Clearly you’re not a one night stand kind of girl.”
Mouth gaping open, I yell, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!”
“Okay, well, now I really see it’s a lost cause. I thought it was something everyone could do if they just tried.”
We are talking about sex right? I know we’re all very modern these days, but sex is still a momentous act.
“Tay, you make it sound like we’re discussing the trouble with swallowing horse pills.”
“I can’t swallow those monsters.”
“Everyone can if they just try,” I parrot her words, making them extra sweet and spicy.
She rolls her eyes. “So are we staying to make some kind of statement or what?”
Nick chuckles. He knows better than anyone how much she hates being wrong.
“We’re staying. Drinks and darts, at least two rounds.”
Nick slings his arms around Taytum and me, grinning. “That’ll show ‘em.”
I play Nick and lose. Taytum’s up now and she’s wanting that second round of drinks.
“Just go up there and order, Jo,” she fusses with me when I asked why Nick couldn’t go get them again. “He already knows you’re here. Stay on this side of the bar, and if he walks over act natural.”
Yeah, I wasn’t born with a natural bone of anything.
Nodding once, I head off on sure feet across the floor.
The bar is stacked with person on top of person. I keep to the left side, approaching the thick lines of bodies and weaving through narrow slits to make a spot for me to order.
Two months ago I would not have even attempted breaching a barrier like this. Two and three bodies deep guarantees no personal space. The old me would be spinning on my heel and planting my butt in one chair for the rest of the evening.
Look at me now. My solace knows no boundaries in times of tight spaces and crowded places.
When I break through I expect to see Cam who usually tends this side of the bar, but I find his head of thick brown hair and that dimply, flirting smile in the center. My eyes start to drift down the bar, toward the right, but I snap my head forward and hold my ground.
I almost turn around, forgoing my order altogether. I have nothing to prove to Brooks. I shouldn’t have to feel like I’m forcing myself to stay just because he knows I’m here.
Brooks has me twisted inside out and I really should leave Triplets and stay away.
“Jo-Jo!”
Dammmmit man.
With a deep inhale, I plaster on a smile as I seek out Cam.
“Josh,” he hollers at the bartender nearest to me. The guy appears new, or new to me since I’ve never seen him here before. Pointing directly at me, he says, “Take her order. Jo bumps everyone else.”
The haggle of patiently waiting patrons surrounding me turn their blazing eyes my way.
Now it’s really time to retreat. Cam just put me on the spot and these people with their evil glares are contemplating my slow death.
A shadow falls over me from the other side of the bar.
Josh may be a new guy, but he doesn’t give off the impression he’s new to the slick-talking, natural flirt job requirement for a bartender at Triplets.
He stretches his arms out, hands flattening on either side, and shoulders bunched as he leans forward. “Special services. Must be a sister or girlfriend to one the bosses.”
“Uh. Neither,” I reply, glancing nervously at the guy pressing in on my right. He’s holding a fifty dollar bill and has probably been waiting a while to place a drink order.
“Huh. Neither,” Josh nods with approval, eyes scanning below my neck with thorough detail. “Good news for me then.”
Josh is not hard on the eyes either. Blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and a sharp cut jawline cause a blush to rise on my cheeks with his forward stare and appraisal.
He leans in more, making the simple drink request seem very intimate. “What can I get you?”
“Three Miller Lites.” My voice quivers with the extra attention.
He starts my order, talking with me while he fills the plastic cups. “You must have been at the game. I would have noticed you if you’d been watching it here.”
Highly unlikely. He wouldn’t have noticed me if it wasn’t for Cam singling me out.
“Yeah, I was there with some friends.”
Josh pulls down the lever, filling a second cup and watching me out of the corner of his eye. “Planning on staying for a while?”
I open my mouth, praying something effervescent rolls off my tongue, but Cam appears behind Josh like a towering sergeant.
“Josh, quit hitting on the customers if you can’t multitask and get your job done quicker.”
Josh seems unfazed by the scolding, casually looking over his shoulder at Cam. “Yes, sir.”
I sharpen my eyes on Cam. He doesn’t fool me any.
Filling the last cup, he asks, “Need help taking these back to your friends? I can step away for a sec.”
The growl rumbling from my right says Josh is under potential harm if he steps away from this thirsty crowd. And the fire-breathing dragon of a boss has steam blowing out his nostrils from his employee’s blatant lack of regard to his demand.
“I’m good, thanks,” I say as his slides all three drinks across to me. Lowering my voice, I add,
“Besides, I don’t want to see you get fired.”
Josh smirks, winking. “Wouldn’t be my first time. Hope I see you around, Jo.”
I grip the beers in a triangle hold and walk away.
At our table, I set the cups down in the middle, exerting a grumble of epic proportions. “We have to find a new bar. The men are crazy at this one.”
“Crazy hot,” Taytum speaks under breath when Nick takes his turn.
“I’m serious, Tay,” I start, catching her gaze briefly before it’s wandering past my shoulder and beyond. “This bar is great, but there have to be other ones we can go to. Ones not owned by hockey players or brothers of hockey players. Maybe ones with women running the bar. We should be supporting the women.”
“Yeah. Girl power. Um, Jo…” She speaks in enunciated slowness, steady watching the crowd at my back.
But I’m on a roll and pay it no mind. The only thing in my line of sight is the blur spot on my glasses, which I remove and start rubbing vigorously.
“I mean, I’m not opposed to a gay bar, but I don’t want to give the wrong impression. I still like guys, I just need to move on from one particular guy.” I pause, positioning my glasses in place and then staring at a very quiet Taytum. “Hello. Isn’t this where you insert the obligatory, to get over one guy I need to get under another.”
Her mouth drops open like she’s about to burst out laughing, but no sound emerges.
“Gotta admit, I don’t like the idea of that.”
Spinning around and whipping myself in the face with my own ponytail, Brooks’s rough voice breathes down my neck with the kiss of a hot flame.
Dragons, the lot of them.
Initially, I feel an overwhelming rush of euphoria hit me like a hundred pound heavy bag. The blow is rough, and I’m concerned for my well-being at the number of feelings the impact caused.
The scruffy face, the backward ball cap, the closeness of his presence wraps around me like a favorite sweater. Then he’s speaking again and cutting through the comfort with a pair of scissors.
“How come you didn’t come back to our section?” Brooks asks, taking a small step in.
The dwindling distance between our bodies is toxic, and already my head is affected with dizziness.
“Chelsea’s not here. Thought it would be kind of weird.”
His head bounces with a noncommittal nod. A strange look crosses his face. And like we’ve talked about nothing at all, he says, “You’re wearing my number.”
I tilt my head down, though the number is on the back of my shirt, so looking down was useless. “Yeah. We were at the game. My company has a box.”
“When did you get that?” He uses his chin to indicate the shirt we’re still both staring at.
“Tonight.”
“And you picked my number.”
He sounds weird. One would think I was standing in a bar flipping an AA coin instead of wearing sports apparel like everyone else.
“Well, I started to get Marc’s but they didn’t have my size,” I tease, smiling up at his straight-line mouth.
But that did the trick. He grins back, and my stomach somersaults.
“We’re not staying much longer,” I rush out. Feeling the need to flee more than ever since he walked over here.
“That’s a shame.” Brooks moves in another step. “I missed you, Angel.”
My back runs into the table as I try to gain the distance he’s closing in on.
“Does he give all of his partners pet names?” I hear Taytum whisper to Nick behind me.
I use a finger to push my glasses up the bridge of my nose. I’m starting to sweat, and they keep sliding down.
“I wasn’t going to come over here.” He drops his voice, tucking his chin and invading the personal space I recently praised myself on not caring about. But I care very much when it comes to Brooks. Dangerous things happen when Brooks and my personal space collide. “That’s the way you want it. For us to stay away from each other, right?”
“I had my reasons.”
“Valid reasons, too. Except there’s a new problem.” Brooks obliterates my space.
Head falling back, I peer up into his eyes. The smoky mist cascades around me like a heavy fog on an autumn mountain morning. I’m locked between Brooks and the table as one of his hand’s circle around to the small of my back.
All air leaves my lungs when he presses close; when his possessive palm spreads adept fingers into my spine.
“I don’t want to stay away, Jo,” he whispers along my jaw, lips hovering above.
“That’s not a new problem,” I reply, staring long into his eyes.
Of course, Brooks doesn’t want to stay away. He’s used to everyone giving in to his needs.
“You’re right. I’ve been drawn to you from the second you scolded me right here in this bar.” He leans in, placing a kiss below my ear, on the underside of my jaw. Then he straightens to his full height. “I don’t like other guys flirting with you.”
“What?” The change of topic, change of tone going from seduction to caveman gives me whiplash.
“I’ve been feeling a wave of new things because of you.”
“I’m sorry…?” I apologize for what sounded like a positive accusation.
“You should be.” He brings his other arm around me, interlocking his hands at my back. “I want to talk to you about something. Come home with me.”
My lips stumble to form words. “You’re speaking in fractions and it’s really confusing.”
“Good thing you love math,” he grins.
“Seriously, Brooks, what is going on?”
“I said I wanted to talk. But somewhere more private.” He lifts his head and I follow his gaze around the room. My friends are the only ones with a blatant appraisal of our PDA. Some folks glance over, but they don’t openly stare. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
Brooks starts to drop his hold and step away. I reach for the arms at my sides to stop him.
“I don’t care about that,” I tell him, holding tight to his forearms until they glide back around me. His face softens around his eyes and mouth. “We can talk tomorrow. I’m with my friends right now so—”
Taytum jumps in, hitting the table with her quick attempt to cut me off which only throws my body further into Brooks’s. “Or…or you could drive her home. She came with us so she doesn’t have a ride.”
“You’re my ride,” I glare, spinning halfway around.
“Cam’s office.” Brooks inserts before Taytum has the chance to revoke her taxi services. Not leaving it up for discussion, he says to them, “We’ll be right back.”
Brooks takes ahold of my hand and intertwines our fingers. The sweet touch starts pops of sparks up my arm and into my chest. The warmth flashes in and out similar to lightning bugs. Popping up and dazzling me with its beautiful lights. I want to catch it and capture it in a jar and never let it go.
Brooks moves through the bar without effort. I follow him down the hallway that takes us to Cam’s office. Once inside, he shuts the door and locks us in. I remain motionless next to him. Watching his features dance with different emotions as he gathers what he wants to say.
“Agreeing to one night was a stupid mistake,” he says, stepping in front me and placing both hands on my arms. “I want a new agreement.”
“Because a guy flirted with me?” I ask, already upset if that’s his reasoning.
“Yes. No.” He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Opening them with an all new clarity, he continues, “I can’t stop thinking about you, Jo. You were on my mind long before we had sex, but ever since the night we did I haven’t wanted anything more than having you again.”
It’s still all about the sex with him. That hurts a little. I wanted to mean something more than another woman Brooks screws until he’s ready to move on.
But after he had his hands on me a moment ago, his mouth touching my skin with gentleness, and our bodies charged from the contact, I can’t think mu
ch beyond desire too.
If all he wants is sex, I’d be an idiot to turn down a second round, right?
We’re locked inside a small room. My blood vibrates with lust. The Jo he unlocked our first time together has resurfaced. She’s brazen. And she doesn’t want words.
I reach up on my toes and plant my mouth right on his. Brooks has a hold of my arms so my mouth is all I have to convince him that if he wants me again, he has to take me right here, right now.
Running my tongue along his bottom lip he opens for me. The kiss starts slow like we’re both savoring the taste we’ve longed for. I’m mesmerized by how a kiss can create new meaning, yet ending everything I’ve ever known as well.
As soon as my tongue connects with his, he moves his hands up, gripping the sides of my neck and running his thumbs beneath my jaw. The swipe of his padded fingers grazing from front to back has me opening wider and moaning into Brooks’s mouth.
He closes the space between us, pressing me into the cool, hard door at my back.
My palms run down his stomach, lifting the hem of his shirt. Fingers connect with his burning flesh, and my hips thrust forward all on their own, seeking more contact.
Brooks’s hardness presses into my stomach. I bring my hands forward, running below the waistband of his jeans.
“Let me take you home,” he groans into my open mouth as my finger swipes low.
I place one palm on his stomach and push him back a couple inches. Chest heaving from the breath he stole during our kiss, I gaze up at him in the dim lighting and muffled sounds of a full house going on behind the door.
We’re far from being alone, but the fact that we aren’t is what makes this all so alluring.
I don’t take my eyes off his hooded gaze as I reach for the bottom of my shirt, grabbing hold with both hands and lifting until it’s off and I’m dropping it to the floor. “We can discuss who’ll take me home after.”
Brooks is not a stupid man.
“After,” he repeats.
TWENTY-ONE
Brooks
I want her so bad it hurts. And I may sound like a masochist but the pain ignited from staying away, for waiting until the moment was right, has been the best torment.