I popped a peanut in my mouth. “Third graders getting you down?”
“They’re monsters, Lena. Every single one of them. They want to suck my soul out of me with their sticky fingers.” She waved her hands dramatically. I always thought my friend had missed her calling and that she belonged in the theater. On top of that, she wasn’t exactly what you’d call a ‘kid person.’ How she ended up as an elementary school teacher was the question of the century.
“But did Martin wear those jeans with the tight crotch?” I asked, referring to Martin Williams, the gorgeous art teacher at Southport Elementary who often took a starring role in Hannah’s masturbatory fantasies.
Hannah groaned loudly; her hand pressed to her ample chest. “Oh my god, did he ever.” She dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “I could see the outline of his wang, Lena. And let me tell you, it’s a beast.” She licked her lips suggestively. “I spent the rest of the day imagining it. Mmm.”
I laughed and threw an empty peanut shell at her face. “You’re such a slut.”
Hannah tossed the shell back at me. “I wish.”
Brad, the bartender, brought our drinks and nachos over along with extra jalapenos, just how we liked them. I picked up a chip covered with cheese and put it straight in my mouth, not caring that grease dripped all over my pants. “This adulting shit is for the birds,” I complained, sipping on my margarita. Brad had gone heavy on the tequila, which I appreciated.
“Is being a badass lawyer not as fun as you thought it would be? Or is it a certain hottie in a power suit that’s getting to you?” Hannah asked, sucking her drink through a straw.
I shoved more nachos into my mouth. “What does Jeremy have to do with anything?” I mumbled.
Hannah snickered. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that you have alternated between wanting to suck on his hot man meat and ripping it from his body for the last four years. And you’re now working with him every single day.”
I choked, which resulted in a violent coughing fit. Hannah pushed my drink toward me, which I downed quickly. “I have never wanted to suck on his hot man meat,” I protested.
Hannah rolled her eyes. “But you once said he was so dreamy and smart and that he made you feel all special—”
“Shut it, Han. That was back when I was naive and stupid. No need to throw my idiocy in my face.” I glared at my best friend who seemed unmoved by my ire.
“Oh, you mean back a whole year ago? Man, how times have changed,” she deadpanned.
Sometimes I wanted to throttle Hannah Quinn and her irritating lack of filter.
“Whatever, Jeremy is a non-issue. It’s all fine. We’re fine. Totally professional.” I slurped the dregs of my drink and signaled for Brad to bring us another round.
“Then why do you get that constipated look on your face whenever his name is mentioned?” she pointed at me, wiggling her finger.
I smacked her hand away. “You’re so annoying. I think hanging out with eight-year-olds all day is stunting your maturity.”
“And I think you still want to suck Jeremy Wyatt’s hot man meat,” Hannah sing-songed.
“What’s this about man meat?”
I looked up to see Skylar Murphy and Kyle Webber standing beside our table.
“Sky! Kyle!” I cried, standing up and throwing my arms around two of my brother’s best friends. “Come and join us!”
I moved over and made room for Skylar while Kyle sat down beside Hannah, who instantly went flirty—smoothing her hair and fixing her lipstick.
“Do I need to go into big brother mode and beat someone up?” Kyle asked, feigning fierceness. “I know Adam’s out of town at the moment, so I’m happy to step in and kick some ass if need be.”
“Dude, you couldn’t beat up a teddy bear,” Skylar stated.
“Whatever, I’m manly and stuff.” Kyle flexed a very muscular arm and Hannah let out a sigh. The woman had no shame when it came to the opposite sex. If they had a pulse, she’d be all over them.
Luckily, Kyle was a nice guy and simply patted her on the arm and moved a couple of inches over. Hannah, for all her brazenness, always took rejection well. She simply shrugged it off and focused her attention on the next moving target.
“No need to beat up teddy bears,” I assured Kyle with a grin. He and Adam had been best friends since middle school. Along with Skylar and Adam’s fiancé, Meg, the four had been a tight group up until Adam and his ex-wife, ‘bitch face’ Chelsea Sloane, had hooked up their senior year of high school. I had been the default younger sister to all of them, which afforded me their overbearing protectiveness and fierce affection.
“Then who were you talking about—?” Kyle began, but Skylar shushed him.
“Stop it, Web, Lena already has one nosy assed brother.” She gave me a conspiratorial smile, which I returned gratefully. “So, L, Adam says you two are working together. How’s that going?”
I lifted my drink into the air. “Needing lots of these, if that answers your question.” Skylar and I clinked glasses. “Honestly it’s great. I’m loving every minute of it. It’s just a lot of hard work. It’s a good thing I eat hard work for breakfast.”
Kyle whooped and gave me a high five. It seemed I wasn’t the only one needing to get a little trashed on Friday night. “How’s Katie doing, Kyle?” I asked, watching as his entire face lit up at the mention of his two-month-old daughter.
Josie Robinson had been Kyle’s girlfriend for years. They had broken up over a year ago and it wasn’t until after they had broken up that Josie told Kyle she was pregnant. It was no secret Josie hoped the child would compel Kyle to come back to her. It wasn’t that she tried to trap Kyle into staying in a relationship, but she was simply a woman who loved a man that had stopped loving her back. It was a sad reality for too many people.
Kyle didn’t stay with Josie, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a really good dad. Little Katie was his whole world and he doted on her.
“I have her overnight for the first time on Saturday. I’ve only ever stayed over at Josie’s—in the spare room of course,” he added quickly.
“Of course,” I nodded.
“Adam helped me fix up the nursery. Meg painted this awesome mural. It’s all flowers and unicorns and stuff. I hope she likes it.” Kyle seemed anxious.
“She’s a baby, Web, she’s not going to have an opinion about wall color,” Skylar noted.
“I get that, but I want it to be special for her.” Kyle drank his beer
“And it will be, Kyle. She’s a lucky little girl,” I assured him.
“Thanks, Lena. It’s only that things have been rough with Josie. And I’m trying to do the right thing, but it seems no matter what I do, I end up letting someone down.” I wasn’t used to seeing Kyle this downtrodden. For as long as I had known him, he’d always been upbeat and positive. He was the funniest guy at the party and the first person to help someone out. Seeing him sitting there, nursing on his beer with a weight on his shoulder was awful to see.
“Ow! You didn’t have to kick me, Sky!” Kyle griped.
“Then stop whining like a bitch and start getting drunk. You’re being a downer,” Skylar commanded.
Hannah pumped her fist in the air and shouted “Yes!”
We ordered more drinks. And more drinks.
Then we were singing bad karaoke. Somehow, I ended up belting out Celine Dion at the top of my lungs in front of a room of drunk locals who had all known me since I was in diapers. It should have been humiliating, but it wasn’t. Probably because I was too drunk to care.
Sure, I was now supposed to be an upstanding member of the Southport community, but I was also Lena Ducate, who liked to get tanked and have a good time.
“My heart will go ooon!” I wailed into the microphone, throwing my head back and holding my hand in the air as if I were giving the performance of my life.
When I was finished, everyone cheered. “Encore?” I asked and was only slightly disappointed when more than a few
people called out, “No!”
I got off the tiny, makeshift stage at the back of Sweet Lila’s and stumbled toward the bar. A hand reached out to hold me upright.
“Thank you so much,” I exclaimed effusively.
“We have to stop meeting like this. It seems when you’re not working, you’re drunk. I’m wondering if this is a pattern I should be worried about.” Jeremy still held onto my arm.
“Only if the pattern involves you being an ass,” I snapped, leaning into him, though I wished I wouldn’t. But my body wouldn’t listen. I reached up and twined a piece of his dark hair around my finger. “It’s so soft,” I slurred.
Jeremy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Woah, you’re more wasted than I thought.” He steered me to a stool and carefully sat me down. “Sit here, let me get you some water.”
“No water. Only booze!” I shouted after him, but he ignored me. He returned a few minutes later with a glass of ice water. I drank from the straw, dribbling some down the front of my shirt.
“Oops,” I giggled, wiping at my boobs. “My tits are all wet.” I looked up at Jeremy with what was meant to be sultry eyes. “You like my tits, don’t you Wyatt?”
He cleared his throat and I thought his cheeks flushed red. “Drink more of that water. Maybe I should get you some coffee too. Sobering up might be good for you.”
“Pshh. That’s stupid talk.” I pushed the glass of water away and stood up unsteadily on my feet. This time I was the one to grab hold of Jeremy. “Don’t move,” I instructed as I got my bearings.
“You sure do drink a lot,” Jeremy muttered, pushing my hair back off my face. I liked the way his fingers felt on my skin. I tingled all over. It was probably the margaritas. Or it was Jeremy. Either way, I liked it.
“I drink just enough.” I wagged my finger in his face. “Don’t tell me how I am.”
Jeremy laughed, his hand dropping from my face down to my waist where it stayed. “I would never try to tell you anything, Ducate.”
I pressed myself up against him, looking up at him. “Good. Because you don’t know me at all, Wyatt. You could have known me. You could have known all about me, but you decided I wasn’t worth your time.” I waved my hands around dramatically for effect. I barely noticed how Jeremy had to dodge my flying appendages. “I wanted you to know me.” I went up on my tiptoes. “I wanted you to really know me,” I whispered in his ear. My hand crept up to rest on his chest. Even as drunk as I was, I could feel how hard his heart was beating beneath my palm.
“I wanted you to know me inside…” My hand crept further up so that I cupped the side of his neck, my lips hovering close enough to his ear that I tasted his skin. “And out,” I finished, my tongue darting out to flick his ear.
I felt him shudder. He wrapped his hand around my wrist. “Lena.” He said my name as if he were in pain.
I abruptly pulled away. “But you lost that chance when you decided to be a total jerkass.” I pointed at him again for emphasis.
“Jerkass? I don’t think I’ve heard that one before,” he said, and I knew he was trying not to laugh at me.
“Yep, a jerkass. And I don’t waste time on jerkasses.”
Jeremy’s expression hardened. Clearly, he didn’t like being called a jerkass. He should stop being a jerkass then.
“That’s good, Marlena. I don’t want you to waste your time,” he sneered. Was he mad at me? What reason did he have to be mad at me? I was the one mad at him! For being a jerkass!
“It’s Lena!” I shouted.
Hannah, hearing me yell, was by my side in an instant. “Babe, what’s up?” She took my arm, giving me a shake. She as just as inebriated as I was, so it became a matter of propping each other up with our shoulders.
“Just setting the record straight for the people in the back.” I was still glaring at Jeremy, who now seemed less than thrilled by my presence.
Well, that made two of us, buddy.
Hannah, finally realizing who I had been speaking to, began to grin. “Look, Lena, it’s hot man meat!” Then she started laughing like a hyena. Which made me laugh uncontrollably.
Jeremy looked at us as if we were insane. “Hot man meat?”
We laughed even harder. “Forget it,” I wheezed as Hannah and I stumbled away.
Stupid Jeremy Wyatt trying to mess with my good time.
I glanced back to find he was watching me. I felt his eyes on me for the rest of the night, though he never approached me again.
So, I danced without abandon. I drank like a sailor. I had the goddamn time of my life. All the while his gaze felt heavy on my skin. Touching me in places his hands caressed in my darkest, secret fantasies.
And I craved him.
I hated him.
I wanted him so badly it tasted bitter in the back of my throat.
Jerkass.
Chapter 5
Jeremy
I looked through the pile of resumes that Adam had dropped on my desk, wishing I was anywhere but where I was.
I was supposed to go through the applicants for the receptionist position, but they were all starting to blur together. It was the most Monday of Monday mornings. And I had a headache.
I had a horrible weekend. My run-in with Lena on Friday night had started it off with a bang. Every time I tried to forget about it, I would see her face in my head. I would feel her hand on my chest. Her tongue on my ear. The way she had whispered, “I wanted you to know me inside.” I couldn’t stop thinking about how she had pressed up against me. Her breasts. Her long, gorgeous legs. Her soft skin.
I covered my face with my hands and groaned.
And then she had stepped all over my ego, my pride, my fucking dignity. She was really good at that.
To cap off a stellar forty-eight hours, I hadn’t slept for shit last night, mostly because Mom had called late wanting to cry about my dad for the millionth time.
Dad had walked out on her... again. They had argued that the electric bill is too high and Dad had, per usual, blamed Mom. In an angry temper tantrum, he had packed a bag and left his wife of forty-three years with no word on where he was going.
“You know he’ll sleep at Gus’ for a night or two then come back. He always comes back, Mom.” What I wanted to tell her was she should hope he didn’t come home because my father was a mean, nasty son of a bitch and he treated my mother like garbage.
Their yo-yo of marriage had left my mother emotionally weak and entirely too dependent on the men in her life. As an only child, I bore the brunt of my mother’s clinginess. It wasn’t by chance that I chose to live over two hours away from my hometown in southern New Jersey.
It also didn’t take a Ph.D. to know that my messed-up view of relationships was entirely rooted in my front-row seat to the shitshow that was my parents’ lives.
“But what if this time is different, Jeremy? What if he’s left for good?” I hated the way her voice wobbled when she started crying. I mostly hated the man who made her feel so badly about herself.
I had barely spoken to my dad in years, but I could never turn my back on my mom. No matter how frustrated I was with her inability to walk away from my father. She was the only family I had—Dad didn’t count.
“He’ll be back once he cools down. Now go run yourself a bath and use those salts I got you for Mother’s Day. They’re lavender, your favorite. It’ll make you feel better. And try not to worry about what Dad’s doing.” I made sure to keep the irritation out of my voice, knowing it would only upset her.
“You’re right. You’re always right, Jer-Jer. He’ll come home and I’ll apologize, and things will be fine.” Mom sounded more upbeat, which was good. I tried not to cringe at how willingly she took the blame for every problem in her marriage.
This was why I knew, without a doubt, I could never have a family. I didn’t trust that I hadn’t inherited his crappy DNA.
When I got off the phone with my mother I was feeling emotionally drained. There were only two things that could take the edge
off when I felt that way. Sex and work.
Yet the thought of heading out to a bar and picking up some stranger didn’t have the appeal it normally did. So instead I opened my laptop and worked on my latest case into the early hours of Monday morning. I finally crashed around one and my alarm had gone off only six hours later. It was needless to say that I was anything but bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
“Have you had a chance to look through the applicants?” Adam asked, walking into my office a little after nine looking perfectly pressed and entirely too upbeat.
“I just walked in the door, give a guy time to get caffeinated,” I complained, rubbing my temples.
“Late night?” he asked, dropping a pile of folders onto my desk. I pushed them aside.
“Yeah, it was.” I watched in annoyance as my partner made himself at home in my expensive Italian leather chair. I wasn’t in the mood for chit chat knowing I was completely off my banter game.
“So, who was it this time? Greta? Linda? Rose?” Adam grinned mockingly.
Normally I would regale him with some tawdry story of my sexcapades but considering I hadn’t been laid in weeks and I was operating on minimal sleep, I wasn’t in the mood for his ribbing.
“If you must know I spent the night with Tom. Tom Carrick.”
Adam frowned. “Who?”
I lifted up the heavy file on the corner of my desk and let it drop with a bang. “The white-collar criminal Tom Carrick. I was ass-deep in witness statements all night.”
“Jesus, who shit in your cornflakes?”
I sighed. “Sorry, man, I’m tired and wearing my cranky pants today. Don’t take it personally.” I ran my hands through my hair. “Talked to my mom last night.”
“How is she?” Adam asked softly. He knew the score of my family. He and Rob were the only two people on the planet I had confided in about my crappy home life growing up. I shared some of the minor details during a late night of whiskey and very little sleep when the law firm was newly established. Neither of my partners had offered much in the way of condolences or sympathy, thank god. I would have throat punched both if they had tried.
Say You Love Me : An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 7
