Undressed

by Kimberly Derting

  Will didn’t seem to mind Zane’s nearness. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear it only made him work harder to annoy me, or Zane . . . or both of us.

  Being stuck in such confined quarters with Will, while having Zane buzzing around me like a bothersome gnat, was irritating. I downed the last of my beer. “I’m getting another,” I announced, and when Zane started to follow, I held up a hand. “I got this.”

  By the look on his face, you’d have thought I just kicked a baby, but I was past caring. My mood had soured, and having Zane underfoot when I went to the bar would only have made it worse.

  I needed a breather.

  WILL

  I thought about not going after her, not because she looked like she wanted my company or anything, but because I knew damn well I was the reason she was fuming right now.

  But that was also why I was so compelled to follow her. I liked that side of her.

  Was that fucked up? Absolutely.

  But it’s not like I could control what her quick temper did to me. I also couldn’t help noticing the way her nipples strained against the practically see-through fabric of her dress, or the way they’d hardened the moment she’d spotted me standing there.

  That was when I was convinced I wasn’t alone in this . . . whatever the fuck it was we were doing. She might not like it, but she definitely felt something for me, same as I did for her.

  Her nipples didn’t get hard when that Zane kid hovered around her.

  So here I was, pursuing her.

  “I had no idea you’d be here tonight, you know.” When she spun away from the bar to face me, her liquid brown eyes flashed with fury and I almost felt bad. She might be attracted to me, but goddamnit, I pissed her off, too.

  I knew I’d fucked up that night at the pool when I’d lost control and let myself kiss her . . . touch her. Hell, she’d paid me to teach her to swim and I’d almost fucked her right then and there. I should’ve had more self-control, and if she hadn’t been so eager, I might have.

  But fuck, she had been willing . . . and wet . . . and . . .

  I shifted uncomfortably, the memory making me stiff in my jeans, even now. God, even while she was glaring at me I still wanted to grab her and bend her over the bar. What did that say about me?

  “Well, now you know,” she spat. “So why don’t you just . . . leave?” She sagged forward against the bar at the same time the bartender handed her another drink. Apparently, she’d stepped it up from beer and had ordered something dark on ice.

  “Lauren, I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head, her eyes going all sad and soft, and for some reason that was a hell of a lot worse than having her pissed at me, because I was defenseless against sad. “I don’t even know what you’re apologizing for. I’m not the one you should say sorry to.” Her supple lips were begging to be kissed.

  “I’m not sure what—” I’d just started talking when a raspy voice called my name, or at least a version of it.

  “Billy! Wondered when you’d be back for more.” The girl was as hot as my whiskey-drenched memory had recalled. Tonight she was wearing a black leather skirt with a matching vest. The buttons strained, revealing only skin beneath, and leading me to believe she wore nothing beneath it. Her black boots were more combat than cowboy, and the hot pink feather clipped in her hair was neither.

  But it was her legs I remembered most—long and tan, and silky smooth. There was no way this could end well.

  Lauren was doing her level best to kill the both of us with her pointed stare, so I figured I ought to do the gentlemanly thing and introduce the two of them.

  “Lauren, this is . . .” I faltered, because even though I could remember what her legs felt like, I couldn’t conjure up a name to save my life.

  Working up my best self-effacing expression, I silently implored the girl to help me out.

  “Heidi,” the girl said, throwing me a bone, along with a look that said I owed her one—a debt she’d never collect on. She held out her pink-polished fingers to Lauren for a handshake.

  “Heidi,” I finished as if she hadn’t just said it for me. “Heidi—Lauren.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes, ignoring both of us as she turned back to the bartender. “Can I get a shot?”

  The bartender, who seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much, asked, “Of what?”

  “Don’t care. Whatever’s closest.”

  I would’ve reminded Lauren she still hadn’t finished the drink she had, except it was none of my business. Heidi dropped the hand she’d been holding out, seemingly unconcerned that Lauren had just brushed off her attempt to be civil. “I’ll have the same,” she said to the bartender.

  “Two whatevers coming up,” the bartender said, like it made no difference to him. He slid two shot glasses filled with amber liquid toward the last two girls I wanted comparing notes—the one I couldn’t stop thinking about and the one I’d tried to use as a placeholder for her.

  Lauren picked up her shot and threw it back without missing a beat. Within seconds, her face scrunched up as she made a fist with her other hand and leaned forward, waiting for the liquor to blaze a trail to her gut.

  Heidi took a sniff of her drink and then tasted it. “Someone shoulda told you—always sip Jäger.” She said it like she was some sort of Jägermeister connoisseur—something no one should be proud of.

  I scowled at the bartender. “Dude, that’s messed up.” Lauren took several deep breaths, and I started to worry she might puke or something. I put my hand beneath her chin. “You okay, Brown Eyes?”

  “Oh, I get it. She gets a cute nickname, and you can’t even remember my name.” Heidi was still nursing her drink and watching me suspiciously, like anything I did was her business.

  Lauren knocked my hand away, but her gaze was unfocused and slightly bleary. “I’m fine,” she said combatively, and then told the bartender, “I’ll have another.”

  Heidi barked with laughter, a sound that resonated through the bar and grated on my nerves. “I like her. She’s got spunk.”

  Biting back a scathing remark, I tried to reason with Lauren. “That’s probably not a good idea. Maybe I should get your friend now.” I started to wave, meaning to get the blonde girl’s attention—Emerson something-or-other. But Zane saw me instead.

  Lauren’s gaze landed on me with almost laser-like precision as she tried to burn a hole right through me with that stare, and for a second I thought I might’ve been wrong—maybe she was totally fine. “Mind your own business,” she slurred, and before I could talk her out of it, she picked up her second shot and downed it. Then, when I was about to tell her she’d had enough, she reached out and grabbed Heidi’s shot and threw the rest of that one back too. Heidi didn’t try to stop her. I was pretty sure Heidi was glad to have front-row seats to the shit show that was unfolding in front of her.

  The third shot went down even rougher than the first and second had. Lauren had to swallow several times, and I was pretty sure not all of the swallows were Jäger.

  “Do you need to go to the restroom?” I asked, almost certain where this was headed.

  “Why can’t you just stay away from me? I can’t believe I ever thought I liked you. I can’t believe I let you kiss me.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Zane freeze where he was. I couldn’t say I wasn’t a little satisfied he’d just heard that. But Lauren wasn’t finished just yet, not by a long shot, and I had a feeling she’d be regretting a hell of a lot come morning. “What are you looking at?” she asked, turning on Zane now. “I told you I was fine. I don’t need you to come over here and rescue me.” She waved him away. “I got this.”

  Zane did what any self-respecting guy would do and backed away.

  I, on the other hand, wasn’t going anywhere. Clearly, I was a glutton for punishment, and Lauren was more than happy to dish it out. “You’re just like all the rest of ’em—a first-class prick. I should’ve never . . .” She swallowed again. “. . . trusted
you.”

  Her friend was coming now, the tall blonde girl. Hopefully Lauren would listen to her since she wasn’t listening to me.

  But before her friend reached us, Lauren got up from her stool.

  “I can’t believe I wanted you to fu—” She swayed then, and tried to catch the bar, but when she missed it, I caught her instead.

  “Lauren, come on. Let’s get you someplace . . .”

  That’s when she bent forward and lost it . . . all over the floor, all over her shoes, and all over mine.

  LAUREN

  I leaned back against the cool metal of the stall while Emerson applied a wet paper towel compress against my cheek and forehead, the way any good girlfriend should in the aftermath of what I’d just done. “How bad was it?” I moaned. My head was still spinning as I tried to make sense of it all.

  “You puked. Like, everywhere.”

  “Yeah, I gathered that much, Em. I meant the rest of it.”

  Emerson sat back on her heels and contemplated me. She reached out and swiped at my smudged mascara. “I only caught the tail end of what went on out there, but it was pretty bad.” I didn’t need her to elaborate, her sympathetic face said it all: I’d made a mess of everything.

  “Zane?”

  She let out a breath. “Pretty bent. Last I heard, when I was helping you get in here, Lucas was trying to convince him to wait for us.”

  I tried to recall his expression when I’d been standing at the bar making a scene and yelling at . . . pretty much everyone. But everything just blurred together in a storm cloud of accusations and regret. How in the world had I let myself get so out of control, so wasted?

  Zane wasn’t entirely blameless; he’d been the one handing me beer after beer while we played pool, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t accepted them. I knew what I was doing. I’d wanted to get drunk; that was my entire reason for coming out tonight—to obliterate Will from my memory. Even if only for the night.

  Instead, Will had managed to crash my little pity party and ruin everything.

  I groaned, burying my face in my hands while Emerson left the stall to get a fresh wad of paper towels. The ones she came back with were cold and damp and felt like heaven against my burning cheeks.

  “How come you didn’t tell me?” When I looked up, her probing gaze was on me. “About Will . . . and the kiss?”

  I slumped even harder against the metal wall, opening my mouth. When I tried to think of the right thing to say, nothing seemed to fit. Why hadn’t I told her? Because the kiss meant nothing? Because I had no intention of letting it happen again? Because Will already had a girlfriend?

  Yes. It was all of those things, and none all at once. I was more confused than ever when it came to Will. “I don’t know, Em. I just . . . I wasn’t sure what to say.”

  Emerson went perfectly still, the wad of paper towels crumpled in her hand. “Oh my God. Oh. My. God,” she repeated, her voice was filled with awe. “You like him.” She wasn’t asking. She was stating a fact.

  I shook my head, sitting up straighter now, and the sudden shift in position sent new waves of dizziness whirling through my head.

  “Don’t try to deny it. I know you. You totally do.” She gave me a weird look, seeing me in a whole new light. “I mean, I knew he liked you. It was so obvious. But you . . . you never like anyone.”

  There was a knock on the bathroom door, and I jumped. The door opened and Will’s voice was there, echoing off the bathroom tiles. “Hello?”

  I shot Emerson a pretend we’re not in here stare, but she countered me with a you’re crazy look and ignored my silent plea. She got up and left the stall. “She’s doing better.” I heard her tell Will in complete disregard of my wishes.

  The door to the bar opened again and I heard them both go out, still talking in low voices . . . about me. I leaned my head back against the wall and thought about the mess I’d made. How had I ended up here, puking in a bathroom stall at a honky-tonk?

  Then the whoosh of the door came again, and this time I didn’t hear the click of Emerson’s heeled boots, only heavy footsteps and I knew it must be Will.

  I held my breath, feeling myself coming apart at the seams. He was out there, on the other side of the metal door now. How was I supposed to do this?

  “Lauren.” He wasn’t asking if I was in here, or if I was okay, but just hearing him say my name, just hearing his voice . . .

  I felt sick all over again, and I wondered why he was even still here at all. Hadn’t I done enough damage? I didn’t dare glance down at his shoes to see how true that really was.

  “Go away,” I croaked.

  “You know I can’t do that,” he said.

  I scoffed. “Of course you can. I mean it, leave me alone.”

  There was a long silence.

  Then, “I’m coming in.”

  My heart slammed against my ribs. “No!” I jumped up to stop the door when I realized I hadn’t locked it after Emerson had left. But I was too late, and it swung all the way open. I found myself face-to-mascara-streaked-face with Will.

  My humiliation was complete.

  I didn’t have long to worry about how I’d disgraced myself, or consider how I looked now, because the moment I was on my feet, my vision tunneled in on itself. For the briefest second, I thought I’d just gotten up too fast, and it would pass. But before I realized what was happening, everything tilted sideways, and I was falling.

  WILL

  “You’re safe now.” Lauren’s silky brown hair tickled my chin as I whispered reassurances against the top of her head, and it was harder than it should have been to resist the urge to press my lips to her scalp. “I got you.” I tightened my grip on her as I kicked the bathroom door open and found myself inside the noisy bar once more.

  That dick, Zane, was there, waiting on the other side of the door. He tried to get all in my face even though I was carrying Lauren. Even though he’d been too big a pussy to venture into the girls’ bathroom to see for himself how Lauren had been holding up. Didn’t say much for his character if you asked me, not that anyone was asking.

  But now that I’d come out carrying her, he was acting like I was violating her just by having my hands on her.

  “I’ll take her from here.” He held out his arms like he seriously thought I was just going to hand her over to him. I’d already convinced Lauren’s blonde friend to give me the key to their place so I could take Lauren home. All I wanted now was to get her away from this place so I could put her to bed . . . and that’s exactly what I planned to do.

  I shoved past him. “No, you won’t. I’m taking her home. Feel free to call it a night.”

  And that was that. No one else got in my way, not even Heidi, who’d laughed her ass off when Lauren had puked on me after reading me the riot act.

  By the time I got Lauren settled in the cab of my pickup, she was alert and watching me with those molten brown eyes of hers. “Thank you,” she whispered in a voice that was a million times less critical than the one she’d used when she’d been shouting at me from her barstool. “For . . .” She hesitated, shifting her eyes away from mine. “. . . back there, with Zane.”

  I finished buckling her in, even though she probably could’ve done it for herself, and tried not to notice the way her nipples turned to hard buds when my chest brushed over hers. “I wondered if you were awake.”

  She gave me a weak smile. “I was trying to decide which was worse, going home with you or staying there with him.”

  I hid my smile, pretending to be offended. “Ouch.”

  Half-heartedly, she rolled her eyes while I closed her door and hustled around to climb inside.

  We were on the road before she spoke again. “I’m so embarrassed about your shoes.”

  This time I didn’t bother hiding the smile. “You should be, that was disgusting.” But when I glanced her way, she didn’t look so good, leaning her forehead against the passenger side window the way she was. She looked like she might be sick aga
in. “Hey, how you doin’ over there? You okay?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I pulled into the nearest gas station and left the engine running. “Be right back.”

  When I came out, I offered her a box of soda crackers and a bottle of ginger ale. “Drink it—it’ll help settle your stomach.”

  She uncapped the bottle and took a small sip, watching me suspiciously. “Why are you doing this?” She took another swallow, a bigger one this time.

  Her question surprised me, but mostly because I didn’t have a quick answer for it. It wouldn’t have been that big a deal to just leave her there, and if she were anyone else I probably would have. Hell, I probably should have—Zane and Emerson would’ve made sure she made it home just as safely as I could. Honestly, from the way I felt about her, as twisted up as she made me, it would have been the safer bet.

  I never knew if I wanted to avoid her like the plague or rip her damn clothes off.

  I mean, fuck, sure I did. I definitely wanted to rip her clothes off. It was the avoiding her part I couldn’t quite wrap my head around. I should be taking care of shit at home—Tess and Cam and work. I didn’t have time for Lauren.

  But then tonight I’d walked into the bar and Zane had given me a look that said the two of them were a done deal. That, in his mind at least, I was too late; Lauren was already his. Suddenly, just the possibility that I’d already lost my chance with her had been too much for me.

  I might’ve gone off the rails a bit forcing myself into the pool game.

  But in the moment, it hadn’t mattered to me whether she might feel the same way about him. I’d decided to prod her, prod both of them, to see where they stood.

  Now I couldn’t help grinning at her, because the fact she was here, in the cab of my truck, was answer enough. “Because I have to.” It was the only answer that made any sense to me.

  She frowned, and I wondered why I couldn’t just say what I meant. Why I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I knew I wanted to figure out if there was something happening here between us, and the idea scared the shit out of me.