The First Rule of Hook-Ups (Breakup Bash)

by Nina Crespo

  She ended the call and faced him. “I have to go.” Her cell chimed again.

  “You’re awfully popular this afternoon.”

  “NorthStar’s twenty-third anniversary is in a few weeks. I’m in charge of planning the gala.” She glanced at his phone buzzing on the nightstand. “You’re pretty popular, too.”

  “Yeah.” He picked up his shorts and untangled her thong from them. “Guess we’re both having a busy day.”

  Lace glided across his fingers as he handed the underwear over.

  “I was wondering where they went.” She slipped them on. “I have a full afternoon tomorrow and then the day after that, I have an early wake up. Then it’s Friday…”

  “And I have to work.” That meant it would be at least three days before he could see her again. They didn’t have much time together as it was. All those missed days would take a major chunk out of it. He took her hand. “Come by tomorrow evening. Stay the night.” The words slipped past his lips before he knew it.

  Alexa gave him a surprised look. “I…” She hesitated.

  Shit. She only wanted time with him here and there for sex. Staying over was too intimate and wasn’t part of the deal. “You know what, ju—”

  “I think that’s a great idea.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. Your place is closer to work than my house. I may actually get a little more sleep.”

  “Sleep? I wouldn’t count on it.” Rafe pulled her into an embrace and kissed her. He’d never get tired of her lips, her taste. He suppressed a groan and let her go. Tomorrow night, he wouldn’t have to stop.

  She leaned into him, released an exhale, and smiled. “What time should I get here?”

  His own happiness had him grinning at her. “Right after work.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Alexa parallel parked on the street near Rafe’s studio. Before she got out, she grabbed her blue purse and fawn leather overnight bag from the front passenger seat. She’d cut a few meetings short, turned a few noncritical tasks over to Beth, and left work early—an unusual occurrence for her on a Wednesday. As she walked down the sidewalk, a sluggish breeze, thick with humidity, barely ruffled the tendrils of her hair not contained by her updo. Her indigo dress clung to her back. But by four o’clock, she had reached the point of being pretty much useless anyway. All she could think about was spending the night with Rafe.

  A few late evening shoppers mingled around the outdoor produce display at the market across the street. The unusually hot evening prompted many people, including her, to seek the nearest air-conditioned place.

  On the same side as Rafe’s studio, the rust-colored brick side of the building housed an art gallery with a front window featuring lakes and beachscapes. She joined the nine-to-fivers hurrying down the sidewalk.

  Alexa nearly avoided a collision with a man rushing from the dry cleaners to catch the bus across the street. She pushed her purse back up onto her shoulder. As she walked farther down the sidewalk, she spotted the entrance to Rafe’s studio. Anticipation settled over her, just like it did every time she’d stopped by his place.

  She’d looked forward to their sexy morning pick-me-ups on her way to work, along with their lunchtime quickies. The other day, her mother had commented how good she looked and asked if she’d lost weight. Maybe she had. Food had become less of a concern with him on the menu. Truthfully, she’d stopped worrying and obsessing over a lot of things since starting this arrangement with Rafe. She’d also become a lot more distracted. Lately, she’d found herself smiling and staring into space at her desk, relishing the secret that she’d had what was quickly becoming the best sex of her life that morning or afternoon.

  She hadn’t told anyone about her rendezvous with Rafe, not even Nat or Cori. But she had inadvertently tipped off her assistant, Jen, last week by returning from lunch with a passion mark on her neck. Her twentysomething assistant had slyly gestured to the spot, slipped her some concealer, and given her a grin and a thumbs-up. Luckily, Alexa could trust Jen to keep a secret.

  Scheduling pleasure so close to business hadn’t been intended, but their busy days made it difficult to avoid. She’d wanted to broach the subject of sleeping over but hadn’t because she didn’t want to intrude on his space. But having him come to her place was out of the question. She couldn’t get busy with Rafe in the same bed where she’d had so-so sex with Brad.

  It wasn’t about cock action comparisons. She just didn’t want her past to muddy the good memories she was making with Rafe. Letting her real life intrude into what she had with him would also ruin the fantasy. At the studio, she could completely let go and just enjoy being with him without judgement.

  Tonight would be fun. She’d even found more of the sexy lingerie she’d never worn to spice things up. And from the way Rafe devoured her with his eyes whenever he discovered what she had on underneath her clothes, he was enjoying it too.

  Alexa climbed the stairs. The outside door had a key pad just like the one located in the inside hallway. She entered the code he’d given her and went inside. Relief from the heat pulled out a happy sigh. Most guys hesitated giving a woman this much free access. When she and Brad were together, he wouldn’t even give her a key to his apartment—not even after they’d become engaged.

  But she and Rafe weren’t in a normal relationship. With her leaving in a few weeks, it wasn’t as if he had to worry about her turning into a crazy stalker. Having the code fit in with what they had together. Easy in, easy out.

  She dropped her bag near the nightstand. “Rafe?”

  Silence.

  Where was he?

  A note scrawled in his sharp-lettered handwriting lay on the kitchen island. Had to take care of a club issue. Be back soon.

  He’d dealt with a club issue almost every time she’d dropped by to see him. It was a hazard of living on the premises, she guessed. He probably got pulled into situations constantly, even on his days off. With him around all the time, it was easy for the staff not to step up and use their own good reasoning or training to solve problems. She’d witnessed it plenty of times at NorthStar and had to caution her managers not to fall into that trap. Maybe she should mention it to Rafe.

  Stop. Club Escapade wasn’t her responsibility, and the way Rafe ran things wasn’t her business. But if they ever compared management notes, she’d step up and give him advice if he wanted it.

  Alexa changed into skinny jeans and a white cropped tee, then sat on the couch. How can he not have a television? At her house, she had three. Alexa retrieved the brown leather folder containing her computer tablet from her bag.

  When Rafe came through the front door, she set her tablet on the coffee table and met him in the foyer.

  He immediately wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. “You’re here already.”

  “I took off on time for a change.”

  He lifted her straight up and carried her to the couch. “Not that I’m not happy about that, but I’d planned to pick up dinner before you got here.” He swung her up into his arms and sat down.

  Alexa situated herself on his lap. He handled her as if she weighed nothing. All that strength. She suppressed a surge of giddiness as she stroked his pecs, outlined under his bronze polo shirt. “No problem. We can pick out dinner together.”

  “Keep wiggling that cute ass of yours and we may not make it.” His erection poked her hip.

  She kissed him. “I don’t have a problem with dessert first, but I’m guessing you need a little more sustenance.”

  He laughed. “True. We were slammed today. I just had time to steal half of Shannon’s turkey sandwich for lunch.”

  Shannon. They’d met briefly one morning at the studio, but his partner hadn’t looked pleased to see her. Or maybe Shannon had picked up on the vibe that she and Rafe had just finished getting busy on the bathroom counter.

  She leaned away from him. “Most dance clubs are more active at night. What are you up to during the day?”

 
“Escapade West. Like today, someone messed up planning a training session at their company. They were in a jam, so we let them rent the space. Of course, everything that could go wrong, did. Shannon and I had to jump in and help get things done. Sorry.” He shook his head. “Didn’t mean to unload on you. That’s not why you’re here.”

  But her mind had already flipped into problem-solving mode. They just needed to identify the problem and brainstorm solutions. At NorthStar, they did it all the time.

  Before she could speak up, he rose and set Alexa on her feet. “There’s a place a few blocks up that makes good burgers. Or we could grab a ready-made meal from the market across the street.”

  “Is that where you got the rosemary chicken?” The other afternoon, she’d taken a piece from the wing that he was noshing on before she’d rushed out the door. In the car, she’d wished she’d grabbed more.

  “Yeah. They have side dishes as well. We can pick up a few of those, too.”

  “It’s a date. I’ll grab my sandals.” Date. Wrong definition. It was simpler than that. They were both hungry and needed to eat.

  Minutes later, they were strolling across the street, hand in hand. They’d missed the evening rush. Locals who lived in the neighborhood high-rises jogged, walked their dogs, and ambled into the corner market.

  Rafe snagged the last rosemary chicken from the deli warmer. They picked out a garden salad, and he tucked the container into the wire shopping basket he carried.

  She sorted through selections in the bakery section. “What type of bread do you want?”

  “Do they have any jalapeño cornbread left?”

  “You like spicy food?”

  He laughed. “Are you kidding? The hotter the better.”

  Yes! Hot as hell burritos and Szechuan chicken, they were definitely her thing. A restaurant near her place had a fiery fish curry that she loved, but she and Brad had only eaten there once. He hated spicy food. Maybe she could take Rafe there sometime before she left.

  She stopped. No. No, she couldn’t. Remorse pinged inside of her. They didn’t have time to explore a lot of places together. Just mainly his bedroom.

  Rafe dropped a package of chocolate chip cookies into the basket. He winked. “We can have them after dessert.”

  The three cashier stations had lines that moved slowly. But finally, she and Rafe were next.

  As they put their items on the conveyer belt, a middle-aged cashier on the right waited for payment from a young woman who appeared to be barely in her twenties. The woman juggled a fussy baby as she searched through her wallet.

  Rafe’s attention was drawn to the mother and child. He stared.

  The woman’s face turned scarlet. “I left my money at home. I’m going to have to put a few things back.”

  The baby cried louder.

  Customers waiting behind her rolled their eyes. Others perused the other two lines.

  “I know her. She’s one of the servers at the club.” Rafe handed Alexa the basket, then slipped past the customers in the other line.

  The young woman’s face reddened even more when she spotted him.

  Rafe leaned down and spoke quietly to her. She nodded. Then he handed over his credit card to the cashier.

  Wow. Some guys would have just assumed the woman wanted help, barged into the situation solution in hand, and added to her embarrassment. He’d shown respect by asking first.

  Alexa paid for her and Rafe’s items. By the time she was checked out, he’d joined her.

  The young woman smiled at him, then pushed her cart of purchases toward the exit. A large package of disposable diapers tumbled off the top to the floor. People stepped around her instead of stopping to help. She put them back into the cart and hurried out the double, glass sliding doors.

  Alexa’s heart went out to her. “Is she going to be all right?”

  Rafe frowned with concern as he picked up the two plastic bags that held their food. “I hope so.”

  Outside, in a parking space at the end of a row, Alexa saw the same young woman arguing with a slim, dark-haired guy near a dented white sedan. She was struggling to load her groceries into the trunk, while arguing with him and soothing the upset baby.

  The guy’s voice grew louder. He appeared unsteady on his feet as he lunged at the young woman. She jerked away, but her foot slipped. As she fell, she shielded the baby in her arms.

  Unconcerned that she might be hurt, the guy pointed and yelled at her while she cowered on the ground.

  Curious onlookers slowed as they pushed their carts.

  “Take this.” Rafe shoved the bags at Alexa, then ran to the couple.

  Was the guy drunk or high? She followed Rafe, heart pounding. What was he going to do?

  He stepped in front of the young woman and faced the guy. “Back up.”

  “Fuck you. I’m her boyfriend, and that’s my son. Not that it’s any of your business. I’m taking them home as soon as she gives me the damn keys.”

  “Like hell you will.” Rafe’s expression darkened. “I can smell you from here. You’re drunk off your ass.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are? You can’t tell me what to do.” The guy peered around Rafe. “Charlotte, give me the keys and get in the car.”

  Charlotte came to her feet, clutching the baby. “He’s right. You’re drunk. You can’t drive.”

  “I bought the damn car. I’m driving. Now get your ass inside.”

  Rafe blocked his path. “Take a walk before you do something you regret.”

  The guy stepped up to Rafe. “Mind your own business.”

  This is turning ugly. Alexa pulled her cell from her back pocket. Just as she called 9-1-1, Charlotte’s boyfriend threw a punch at Rafe and missed.

  Alexa relayed the situation to the dispatcher as Rafe dodged more wild punches. Her heart drummed in her chest. “Please hurry.”

  Rafe ducked the next blow, and in one swift maneuver, he tossed the guy onto his back. He pointed as he stood over him. “Stay the fuck down.”

  Two police cruisers sped into the parking lot.

  An officer hopped out of his car. “Break it up.”

  Rafe lifted his hands and backed away from Charlotte’s boyfriend, who hurled insults at him.

  The police intervened. They questioned Charlotte and Rafe. Then Alexa and another witness gave their statements.

  Charlotte’s boyfriend was driven off in the back of a patrol car.

  Rafe came to Alexa. “Charlotte’s shaken up. I’m driving her home in her car. Do you mind following and giving me a ride back?”

  The fading adrenaline caused Alexa to shake.

  Rafe hadn’t thought twice about stepping in. What if the guy had been carrying a weapon? Rafe could have been hurt.

  Alexa hugged him tight. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  He embraced her and pressed a kiss to the top of her forehead. “It’s over now.”

  But from the tension radiating off him, in some way, it wasn’t.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hours later, Rafe returned with Alexa to the studio. They both slipped off their shoes at the door.

  He dropped his keys and clip that contained his cash, cards, and driver’s license on the coffee table, then grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge.

  She made a bathroom pit stop.

  They’d barely said two words to each other on the way back. It was as if he could hear her mulling the last few hours over in her mind. The area where Charlotte lived definitely wasn’t what Alexa was used to. Old neglected houses had lined the street. Empty liquor bottles and trash had dotted the gutter. He’d spotted an injection needle where they’d parked in front of Charlotte’s two-story brownstone. But Charlotte’s small apartment was clean and neat.

  Rafe took a long sip of the premium brew. Charlotte’s boyfriend was spending the night in jail, but they’d still convinced her to reach out to her family, who lived nearby in Virginia. While waiting for her cousin to arrive, Alexa had shared the food
they’d purchased with Charlotte. She’d even taken turns with him holding the baby so Charlotte could sit and eat. Still, the entire situation was probably too much for Alexa. Instead of a carefree night of enjoying each other, he’d dragged her into chaos.

  Alexa joined him in the kitchen. She glanced at the bottle in his hand.

  “Guess you think I’m a hypocrite for drinking this?”

  She stared at him as if he’d asked a silly question. “That depends. Do you plan on getting drunk and turning belligerent?”

  “No.”

  “Then there’s nothing to worry about.” She embraced him loosely around the waist. “You did a good thing by getting Charlotte’s boyfriend under control. He would have forced her into the car if you hadn’t intervened.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not over for her, though.” He leaned back against the kitchen island. “I know his type. Angry at the world when they’re sober. Meaner when they’re drunk. My father was the same damn away.” The admission slipped out. The cold brew suddenly tasted overly bitter. After all she’d witnessed with Charlotte, a woman like Alexa wouldn’t want to risk being associated with someone that had a jacked-up gene pool. What was that saying? Like father, like son. He set the bottle on the kitchen island and braced for her to move away.

  Alexa stepped closer. “Maybe what happened today was scary enough for Charlotte to make some difficult decisions.” She laid her cheek to his chest. “I can only imagine how hard that would be. He’s the father of her child. Maybe he’ll get help, too, so he can be there for the baby.”

  Like his father had been for him? The man had been an embarrassment as a parent. Once, when Rafe had been eight, a cold had kept him out of school for days because his father had neglected to buy him medicine. While his father was working a temporary construction gig, a school counselor had stopped by to find out why he wasn’t in class. She’d taken one look at his surroundings and called child services. She was right to do it. The house wasn’t fit for a kid to live in, but his father was too damn drunk to notice. Six months later, his father had cleaned up the place, claimed he’d found sobriety, and gotten him back. Things had been decent for a while until they weren’t again. Whether Charlotte realized it or not, she was better off without her boyfriend. Her son deserved better.