by Jacie Lennon
Once the girls get back from the restroom, my eyes instantly lock with Jules. She gives me a shy smile, and I find myself wondering what happened with her fiancé. Who leaves a woman who looks like her? Maybe she’s batshit crazy. That might be the only explanation.
“Let’s go to a new bar,” Hanna says as soon as they are near enough to talk.
“Yeah, come on. New bar.” Jules hooks a hand through Hanna’s arm and motions to the guy who was standing with them when we first walked in.
“Guess we are going to a new bar,” Ezra mutters, and we follow the girls out.
We weave our way down the sidewalk, the girls ahead of us before they dart into a new building. We are stopped at the doorway by the bouncer requesting a cover. I roll my eyes. The bar we were just at didn’t require a cover charge, and now, I have to pay money to follow this girl, but a deal is a deal. I told Ezra I would entertain her, and Mason Porter hasn’t let a girl down yet. We pay our money and enter the room, shoving through people as we survey our surroundings for the girls. They are at the bar, about to down another shot. I approach them and squeeze in next to Jules.
“The next round is on me, ladies … and sir,” I say as my gaze lands on the guy with them.
“Brent,” he says, sticking his hand out. “You can buy me a drink any day.” He gives me a wink.
Now, I know what Ezra meant earlier about my winking. It is kind of a seductive action.
“Uh, sure,” I say. I turn to Jules. “What’s in the shots?”
“Tequila,” she says. Her eyes don’t quite meet mine as her cheeks turn a little pink.
“Strong stuff,” I say with a nod, hoping to meet her gaze.
“It’s rule number one,” Hanna says with a giggle.
She seems to be coming around from how she was upset earlier—that, or she’s more inebriated now. Jules and I both watch as Ezra swoops in and wraps his arms around her. She turns around and molds her body into his. Jules and I look at each other and make a gagging face at the same time.
“Jinx,” I say.
“Who jinxes anymore?” She laughs, and I watch the way her red lips glisten.
“You owe me a shot.” I give a lackadaisical shrug, trying to look unaffected.
“You already said the next round was on you,” she points out.
“So I did. Looks like we are taking two more shots,” I tell her before signaling to the bartender. “What are we celebrating?”
“I’m celebrating being dumped,” she mutters.
“Me too.”
“You are?” Her mouth drops open as she freezes. She must not have been expecting me to say that.
“I’m celebrating you being dumped. Now that you are single, I have a shot.”
I give her my best grin, the one that shows off my dimple, and she smiles back. No woman has ever been able to resist my dimple.
“Hanna warned me about you,” she says suddenly, causing me to frown.
“What exactly did she warn you about?” I lean in closer, catching a light floral scent in the air that I want to smell more of.
“That you are a womanizer.”
I stop myself from frowning at the word and decide to play it off. “I wouldn’t say a womanizer. I’d say a lover of the female form.”
I laugh. She doesn’t.
“I don’t care either way. I’m not getting attached to you,” she says with a shrug.
A strange feeling rushes through me when she says that. Usually, I’m the one who is noncommittal in my feelings. This is my perfect scenario, but for some reason, it’s only making me confused.
“Great. I’m a good distraction for a short time,” I say, shrugging back, trying to appear as if I don’t care either way, but strangely, I do. I didn’t expect to actually find her charming and funny, feelings I don’t normally let myself have for women.
We don’t speak as we stand together at the bar and wait for our shots. As soon as they are delivered, Jules picks one up and hands me the second. She raises her glass and looks at me with a smirk that has my heart jumping.
“To love and hate. Two sides of the same coin.” She tosses her shot back and slams the glass against the bar. “Another.”
I get us two more and glance around for the others. I see Ezra and Hanna slow-dancing in front of the cover band, and Brent is talking to some guys in the corner. Ben is nowhere in sight, but I don’t care. My focus is on Jules tonight.
And only tonight, I remind myself as I pick up the shots.
“Here you go.” I hand her the shot, and her fingers lightly brush over mine as she takes the small glass.
“It’s your turn to toast,” she says as she leans into me before catching herself with a giggle.
She reaches up to put her hand on my chest and pushes herself backward. As soon as her hand makes contact, we both freeze. I’ve been waiting all night for her to touch me, and now that she has, I wish she hadn’t. It’s something I can’t un-feel. Her eyes are focused on where her skin is lying against my shirt. My heart is thumping, and I’m sure she can feel it against her palm. I watch her face, the blank look giving nothing away until she forcibly swallows. She pulls her hand back, her eyes heavy-lidded before opening to glance up at me. My skin is seared where the heat from her hand penetrated my shirt. I pick up my glass and hold it in the air.
“To your dirty scumbag of an ex-fiancé. May he realize what he let go of and may he agonize over it for the rest of his life.”
We clink our shots, our eyes locked on each other as we down them. My head is starting to spin as I put the glass on the counter, and I’m not sure it’s from the alcohol.
Jules leans over to grip the side before turning and propping her hip against it. She crosses her arms and looks at me, eyes wide. “How did you know he was my fiancé?”
Oh shit.
“I didn’t,” I say, trying not to look panicked. “I just assumed.”
“Are you lying to me? Why would you assume he was my fiancé?” Her face goes from relaxed and having fun to confused.
“Ezra told me, okay?”
“So, you did just lie.” She uncrosses her arms to poke me in the chest. Her eyes narrowing in a glare.
“No, yes, maybe.” I’m not doing well at backtracking as my brain sends me warning signals.
“Why was Ezra talking about me to you?”
“He just wanted you to have a good time tonight.”
Her mouth drops open, and I realize I said something that doesn’t help my case, but I don’t know what it was.
“He wanted me to have a good time tonight? Really? So, he does what, asks you to pitch in and take me off Hanna’s hands? Babysit me?”
I realize she’s just going to continue asking questions unless I cut her off.
“Kind of. He just wanted me to entertain you, so he could have some time with his wife.”
If this were a cartoon, Jules’s ears would have steam escaping from them.
“I am a grown woman. I do not need someone to babysit me, least of all a man who prides himself on being a womanizer. This is so embarrassing. I thought there was an attraction, and I find out you were basically made to distract me. This is almost more embarrassing than my fiancé leaving me for a barista. A barista, Mason! Who leaves someone for a nineteen-year-old employee? And now, look at me. I have to resort to pity dates.” She covers her face with her hands before making a moaning noise that sends a flutter of arousal through me.
I blow a short breath out of my nose and send up a quick prayer that she’s not crying.
“It’s not a pity date,” I say awkwardly.
This night has taken a turn for the worse.
“No, you’re right. It’s not a date at all.”
“Look, you’re just drunk.” I watch her face turn red. “No, wait. I didn’t mean it like that.” I put the final nail in the coffin.
“You think I’m blowing this out of proportion? Is that what you are trying to say?”
“No!”
�
��Yes, you are. But I’m not blowing it out of proportion. I want someone to want me for me. Not because they got stuck with me.”
“I didn’t get stuck with you,” I say.
“Sure you didn’t. Look around you. Plenty of women to work your charm on,” she exclaims, sweeping her arm out around us and effectively slapping a few people in the side.
I mutter, “Sorry,” to a few of them before I grab her hand and try to return it to her side.
“Don’t touch me,” she says, pulling her hand out of my grip. “I’m ready to go home.”
She takes off for the front door, and I trail behind her, wondering what I have gotten myself into. I catch up to her at the door and grab her hand before she can run outside.
“Get off of me,” she cries.
I instantly let go. “I’m not going to touch you, okay?” I hold my arms up. “Let me just make sure you get home.” I pull my cell phone out to let Ezra know we are leaving.
“You can’t go home with me,” she says with a frown.
“I’m not. I’m just making sure you get home. Safely.”
“Ma’am, is there a problem?” The bouncer walks up to us.
“No, no problem,” I tell him.
“I was asking the lady,” he says with a glare my way.
I throw my hands up again and sigh. This is not going at all how I planned.
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Jules says to him.
He stands there a moment longer, looking between us. “Okay. I’m right over here if you need me,” he says, pointing to the seat he was perched on when we first walked in.
“Thank you,” she says with a smile.
She turns to me, and the smile morphs into a frown.
“You are free from having to babysit me,” she mutters, beginning to walk down the sidewalk.
I run a little to catch up with her and fall into step.
“I said, you don’t have to stay with me. I’m a grown woman.”
“Look, I know you don’t know me. But I’m not going to just leave you out here. I’ll get you home, and then you don’t have to see or speak to me ever again.”
She stops suddenly, and I slow down when I see she’s not beside me anymore.
“Okay,” she says, raising her hand. A cab pulls over, and she climbs in. “Are you coming?”
I hop in beside her. She shifts over in the seat, making sure that our bodies don’t touch.
I’ve never had this problem before. I’ve never had a woman try her hardest to get away from me. Usually, I’m the one running when a woman can’t get the picture that I’m not up for a relationship.
I give the cab driver the address to Ezra and Hanna’s house. The silence that ensues is stifling. The heat that spread through my body when she laid a hand on my chest is burned into my memory.
I have to remind myself, Batshit crazy.
We pull up at the house, and Jules climbs out and shuts her door before I even open mine. I bend down and ask the cab driver to wait a minute, and I run to catch up to Jules.
“Good night, Mason,” she says firmly.
I stop, and we stare at each other before I nod.
“Good night, Jules.” I stand there, my head spinning at the turn my night has taken.
6
Jules
“Oh God,” I mumble, throwing a hand over my mouth as I scramble from the bed and dart into the hallway. I throw the door shut on the bathroom before emptying my stomach into the toilet. My head is pounding, and my mouth tastes like cotton as I sit on the bathroom floor, my back against the tub. I reach up to rub my temples, praying for a swift death.
“Jules?”
The door opens a crack, and I see Hanna poke her head in.
“I’m dying,” I moan as she stands beside me.
She opens her hand and drops two Tylenol in my palm before leaning over and filling a cup with water. “Here, take those. You’ll feel better. Do you want any breakfast?”
I make a face, and she laughs.
“What happened last night?”
“Ezra asked Mason to babysit me,” I say. “I didn’t take it very well.”
“Yeah, I’m not too happy with Ez at the moment.”
“I don’t want to cause problems for you and him,” I say, holding my head.
“You aren’t. He just knows better than to sic Mason on you,” she says, rubbing my back.
“I just can’t believe I thought he might be into me. I feel like such an idiot.” I grimace, thinking about the night before.
“You aren’t an idiot. The guys are idiots.”
I stare at her before nodding. “I’m sure he’s laughing at me right now.” I roll my eyes.
“Nah. If I know Mason, he’s already moved on. I don’t think he’s ever with the same girl twice.”
“That’s comforting,” I say with a self-deprecating laugh.
“He’s a hit it and quit it kind of guy, Jules. It’s good you got out while you could. Ezra told me a story about how Mason was with two different girls in one night.”
I stand up and splash some cold water on my face praying the Tylenol will kick in quickly. “Like … sexually?” I ask with my eyes wide. I’ve never been that adventurous, and I can’t imagine doing something like that. I’m a one-man woman.
“I guess. That’s all Ez said about it. Come on. Let’s get you some coconut water. A few electrolytes will have you feeling better in no time.”
I follow Hanna down the hallway to the kitchen.
“How are Livie and Luke?” I ask.
“Nora said they were perfect. I miss them so much.” She sighs and sinks into a chair at the table after handing me the water out of the fridge.
“When are they coming home?”
“You and I are having a day full of retail therapy, and then we’re swinging by her house on our way back,” she says, grinning.
“You’re speaking my language. Let me grab a snack and jump in the shower to shake this hangover a little.” I grab a granola bar, and then I lie back down in bed for a little while, munching on my food, before I finally crawl into the shower.
“I figure we can hit up brunch if you’re feeling better,” Hanna yells down the hallway once I open the bathroom door, feeling like a slightly less hungover version of myself.
“Sounds perfect,” I say back and quickly get ready.
I throw on some leggings and an oversize T-shirt. Putting my wet hair in a messy bun, I swipe some concealer under my eyes and some mascara on my lashes. After a quick application of pink gloss, I look in the mirror and give myself finger guns.
Lookin’ good there, missy, I think before chuckling at myself. You’re such a weirdo.
I step out in the hallway the same time Hanna does, and we grin at each other.
“Great minds think alike,” she says after seeing my outfit. She’s dressed in a similar, casual manner. Slouchy jeans and a light hoodie, her colorful hair in a ponytail.
“Let’s get our shopping on,” I say.
We head to The Gulch, a newer spot in Nashville with fun restaurants and good nightlife. Not that I want anything to do with nightlife at the moment.
We stop in a bistro to eat before heading to the stores. The inside is cute, a modern but cozy feel. We’re seated in a round booth in the corner.
We mull over what we want to eat before Hanna suddenly slams her menu closed.
“I want it all,” she whines. “This breastfeeding has me turning into a foodaholic. I can’t eat enough, and I always feel hungry.”
“Well, I’m sure little Luke appreciates everything you do for him.” I smile.
“Oh shit.” Hanna quickly flips her menu up, hiding her face.
I look around in bewilderment before my gaze lands on him across the room.
Oh shit.
“What is he doing here?” I hiss at Hanna, causing her to drop her menu and look at me.
“I have no idea.” She presses her mouth into a straight line and cuts her eyes at him. “He’
s coming over. Act natural.”
We both adjust ourselves in our seats, not acting natural at all.
I sit up a little straighter, my heart pounding.
Weird.
I attempt to paste a bored look on my face as he stops beside our table.
“Hanna,” he says, nodding at her.
I wait for him to turn my way, but he doesn’t.
My mouth drops open.
Did he just dis me?
“Mason.” She nods back. “You remember Jules?” She motions across the table at me as if I hadn’t seen Mason in years.
“Ah, yes. I do remember Jules,” he says, still looking at Hanna.
Of all the rude and hateful ways to act.
I clear my throat, and he finally looks over at me. We have a stare-off for a few seconds until Hanna squirms, and I break eye contact. Mason turns back to Hanna, and I study him as he starts talking. He’s dressed casually in a T-shirt and jeans that fit him just right. My pulse jumps, and my mouth is bone-dry.
How does someone look so good after a night of drinking? And, God, why do I even think he looks good?
I look like road kill left in the hot sun for a week.
My mind and body aren’t agreeing on how I’m feeling about him.
“I told her last night that she didn’t have to see or speak to me ever again. I’m already breaking one part of the agreement, so let’s not make it both.” He smiles at her, and I gape.
Nope, not silly. He’s taking this to the extreme.
“You don’t have to take it so literally,” I say with a grumble.
He finally speaks to me, “You took what I said last night pretty literal.”
He lets a predatory gaze roam over me before he turns to saunter off, leaving me to pick my bruised ego off the floor.
“Of all the childish and immature …” Hanna sputters.
“I think those mean the same thing,” I point out but have to agree.
He only came over to our table to rub it in my face.
