by Vicki Green
I return to Dad’s room and find him asleep. Maybe she’s right. It’s my fucking birthday. I should go out and celebrate, well, at least have a drink. God knows I could use one right now. Things will be changing in the morning, and I need to be on my A-game.
6
Even though I don’t feel like celebrating my birthday, especially alone, I go home, take a shower, blow dry my hair, brush my teeth and put on some of that smoky eyeshadow Brooke gave me then fill my lashes with my black mascara. I dab on some light lipstick and a little blush to give my pale cheeks some color. I hadn’t been in my bedroom since I’ve been here. I guess I just wanted to be closer to Dad by staying in his room. It feels weird as I walk into my old room, still looking as if I were back in high school. All my trophies for track still sit on the shelves above my desk, and all the framed awards are still on the wall next to it by the window. It still looks like purple threw up on my floor and bedspread. I laugh out loud. I walk inside my closet and start pushing my clothes one by one, looking for something to wear. I’m just going to Malloy’s bar and it’s not very fancy. However, it is my birthday, dammit, and I want to feel – something. I keep pushing away shirts and dresses until I stop. My black dress that fits tightly, showing off everything I have and don’t have. Smiling, I take it off the hanger and pull it over my head, having to pull and tug to get it down all the way. Shutting my closet door, I look at myself in the full length mirror. “It’ll have to do.” I smile. God, it feels good to smile.
Getting in my car and driving to the bar, I start thinking about how I haven’t been eating much and that I’ll need to go light on drinking. Maybe just one. I need to relax, forget about everything for a while – if only for one night. I need it. Crave it. Deserve it. When I walk inside the bar, I’m greeted by Sam, the bartender, whom I’ve known since high school. I give him a wave and walk over to a table next to the wall. There’s not many people here, even though it’s Friday night. It’s early though, only nine o’clock. Normally things get hopping closer to eleven. I look up when Patsy reaches my table and put on a smile. Another schoolmate who never left this town.
“Saige! How are you? It’s been so long.” She reaches down and places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry to hear about your dad.” This is why I haven’t wanted to go out. I knew everyone in town would have heard by now. I don’t want to think about all this. “How are you doing?” Ugh!
I sit up and straighten my position. “I’m good, thanks.” I lie.
“Well, if you need anything, please let me know.” I nod, like I’d call her. “Your usual?”
“Yes, but I’d also like a shot of tequila with lime, please.” Why the hell not? It is my birthday.
“Coming right up.” She smiles, turns, and walks off.
The jukebox is playing “Stairway to Heaven” and I sigh. Just what I need to hear right now. Can’t I get a fucking break? Patsy doesn’t take long to bring my drinks and I down the shot, suck on the lime, and take a drink of my beer before she barely turns around. “Can I get another?” I ask her as I hold up the shot glass. She smiles and nods then walks back to the bar. Okay, I said one drink but hell, I’m celebrating after all. After an hour and three shots later, there’s more people in the bar, most of them I know, all of them stopping by and asking how I am. I hate this. Can’t a person celebrate their birthday in peace?
I’m sitting here nursing my second beer and listening to a Beach Boys tune when another shot magically appears in front of me with another slice of lime. I look up at Patsy’s smiling face. “Uh, I didn’t order this.” Not that I won’t drink it but…
She tilts her head and smiles. “That gentleman bought it for you.” I look around her at where she’s pointing with her head and can’t make out the man’s face. He’s sitting in the corner booth in the back room, darkness surrounding him. Patsy leans down as I look up at her. “He’s so fucking hot.” Oh, really? She starts whispering, as if anyone could hear her with people playing pool in the pool room, the jukebox cranked up, and people talking and laughing. I have to lean up to hear her completely. “He’s been in town for a several months. He’s so fucking mysterious and keeps to himself. Some say he’s a criminal hiding out, others think he just moved here for whatever reason.” Hmmm, mysterious. Interesting.
I sit back down and try to look at him again but I can’t get a good look. “Thanks,” I tell Patsy and as soon as she leaves, I raise up the shot and point it his way, trying to thank him. As I down the shot, I keep looking his way as I put the lime in my mouth. I can make out him giving me a low nod. Damn, I wish I could see him better.
By eleven thirty, I’m feeling pretty damn good. People are dancing on the small dance floor and the place is packed. “Let’s Get It Started” by the Black Eyed Peas starts up on the jukebox and I can’t stop myself from getting up and going to the dance floor. I start moving my hips to the beat, closing my eyes, and raising my arms above my head. I’m really getting into it, lost in the song, when I feel someone rubbing against my ass. I push back, rubbing up against whoever is there and keep dancing. I feel numb from the alcohol and actually feeling nothing but the music. I need this. Desperately. Not realizing it, the song changes, and I’m still swaying to the beat only it’s slower. Someone pulls me into their arms and moves me around. When I open my eyes, I see Horace, someone I haven’t seen in years. He’s smiling at me with crooked yellowing teeth, and his pot belly pokes my stomach. “I gotcha, girl,” he whispers and grabs my ass. I’m sickened by him and the stale smell of whiskey. I raise my hand, ready to slap him when someone grabs it, pulling me away from him. The man pulls me into him so hard that my breasts hit his hard chest and I let out an “Oomph!” I have no choice but to latch onto his arms. Very large arms.
Not opening my eyes, I squeeze a set of extremely rock hard, big biceps and move my hands down a pair of arms. I open one eye a slit and have to stifle my gasp at the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I’m not lying. I know you’re not supposed to say beautiful when speaking about a man but handsome just doesn’t seem enough. Opening my other eye, I take a better look. Black hair shaved closed on the sides, longer and thick on top of his head laying over his forehead slightly. The epitome of sex standing right before me. I watch in wonder as he looks over at Horace and I think I heard him growl.
“She’s with me. Take a hike,” he says his voice low and rough. Sexy.
Horace’s eyes widen as he raise his hands in front of him. “I was just foolin’ around. Sorry, Saige.”
Mystery man’s eyes snap to mine as if hearing my name for the first time surprises him somehow. Why would he do that? I stare into the golden browns of his eyes, tilting my head in curiosity. “It’s okay, Horace. It’s all good,” I say, still staring at mystery man. I’m hypnotized by his eyes, not even noticing at first when his strong arms wrap around me, holding me close as we begin to sway. I haven’t gotten a look at him entirely as I can’t seem to move my eyes away from his. It’s like he’s put a spell on me, one I’m not sure I want to break from.
“Hope you have a great birthday, Saige,” Horace says as he leaves. One of mystery man’s eyebrows raise. I blink, rapidly.
“Happy Birthday – Saige,” he whispers. That rough voice vibrates through me, sending currents down between my legs. Suddenly, my dress feels too tight, too confining, as he leads me slowly around the floor.
“Who are you?” I whisper back, my voice hoarse from lack of use.
A small smile appears on his gorgeous face. “I’m here for you.”
I tilt my head. “What in the hell does that mean?”
Instead of answering, he pulls me closer, his nose rubbing into my hair. I can feel the warmth of his breath against my ear, and I shiver as if I’m suddenly cold. “You’ll see,” he whispers, nudging my ear with his lips. He nips my earlobe and I melt against him, my arms moving around his neck, my fingers smoothing up the back of his head. His hair is soft to my touch and fuck if he doesn’t smell amazing. Normally I
don’t go out with a guy unless I at least get to know him first, much less let a stranger nip me and rub against me, but what the hell? Right now, he’s taking my mind off of everything bad in my life. I need that. Need him. Besides, it’s my birthday. Maybe I should have a fling with a mystery man, do something dangerous to celebrate. I’m finding out that life is too damn short to be the “good girl” everyone expects. The girl who does everything correctly and follows all the rules. Maybe this is just what the doctor ordered. I snort out loud at my pun, followed by a hiccup. Oops.
I’m spun around, making me dizzy. Strong hands grasp my waist and my arm. “Uh, where are we going?” Another hiccup breaks up my words.
“Home.”
My home or his home? Pretty sure I don’t wanna to go to his house because it might be a dark alley or maybe a cold basement. I let out another snort as he shuffles me out the front doors of the bar. A breeze whips my hair over one side of my face, and I shiver from the coolness. We start down the two steps when my heel catches, and I start to go down. “Shit!” A strong arm grabs me around the waist and hoists me up, my back against his hard front. I’m carried down the steps then set roughly onto the ground. Before I can blink he grabs my hand and pulls me to the right. “Uh, wait!” He keeps pulling. I try to dig my shoes into the cement but stumble as he tugs. “Wait!” He stops, and I slam into his back. Hard. “Dammit! Just wait a second!” I’m breathing heavy from all the tugging and pulling, and my hair is tangled in my finger from the wind blowing it around as I try to brush it over my shoulder. His head turns and he looks at me over his shoulder, questioningly. Raising my finger, my tangled hair following, I point over to my car. “My car’s that way.”
“We’re not taking your car,” he growls.
What the fuck? He turns back around and starts to walk, but I pull back as hard as I possibly can, which means not all that hard considering I’m two sheets to the wind. He stops and turns completely around and just stares at me. What in the hell is his problem? What is it about this mystery man who gets my dander up? Oh, yeah. He’s leading me around like a rag doll and being all macho and stuff. Okay, I kinda like the macho stuff but then he hardly talks. I mean, he could be taking me away to murder me. But then, look at that body and those eyes, those muscles. He could open a walnut between those biceps alone. I let out another snort. Suddenly, he’s right in front of me. Like, so close I could just barely move, and I’d be flat against him.
“You’re not driving,” he growls. What’s with all the growling?
Now I’m pissed. I take an unladylike stumble back and cross my arms, hoisting up my lady’s. “Now, look here, Mister – Mister – Ugh! Whoever you are. I’m perfectly capable of driving my car. And what’s with all the growling? Who pissed in your Post Toasties?” Post Toasties. Cereal. Food. My stomach grumbles and bile rises to the base of my throat. I slap myself hard by covering my mouth with my hand, the feel of beads of sweat covering my forehead. “I’m gonna be sick,” I mutter into my hand.
“What?” His eyes widen as he stares at my hand covering my mouth.
“I said I’m gonna be sick,” I yell into my hand then feel the bile rising further into my throat. I dry heave and start to bend over.
“Fucking hell,” he growls as he runs behind me, lifts me into the air and carries me over to the bushes on the other side of the front steps of the bar. Just as he sets me down, my hand flies off my mouth and slaps the building as I purge all the alcohol from my system into their nicely groomed shrubbery. I’m a nurse, for fuck’s sake. I should have known better than to drink so much on an empty stomach. I feel mystery man grab my hair and pull it behind me as I start dry heaving, nothing left in my system. “Are you done?” he asks, not real politely. I start to turn my head and then go back down for more. Guess I was wrong about being empty. I begin to feel like it’s not just what little contents I had in my stomach purging but all the stress, anxiety, and everything I’ve been going through seep out of me. His hand starts to rub my back soothingly, and I start getting tired. “Finished?” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand as I nod but not completely sure.
He sweeps me up into his arms and this time I’m too tired to fight him. I close my eyes and lay my head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my ear and his muscles flexing as he walks. I lift my head just as he sets me down in the seat of what looks like a Land Rover. Black. Hmmm, tough looking, just like him. How fitting. He straps me into the seatbelt, a little too forcefully. I startle when he slams my door and by the look on his handsome face, he seems a bit upset. I watch him walk around the front of his car and get into the driver’s seat. No words are spoken as he jams the key in and starts it up. Silence is stifling as he drives out of the parking lot. My eyes grow heavy with the lull of the engine and the motion of his car.
“What’s your address?”
Not even reluctantly, I tell him then close my eyes.
I’m tousled then feel so comfortable. Opening my eyes slowly, I look up to see a chiseled jaw with a light scruff of dark hair covering it. His eyes snap to mine, and I realize I just moaned out loud. His breathing becomes labored as he carries me through my house. It’s like he’s been here before as he carries me through the darkened rooms, down the hall, but instead of going to my dad’s room, he opens the door to my bedroom. How in the hell would he know which room is mine? He doesn’t set me down in my room, instead carries me into my bathroom, and I bury my face into his chest when he flips on the light. I fist the sleeve of his t-shirt as he sets me down. Then I watch him open the shower curtain, lean over the tub and turn on the water. Now, I’m getting angry.
“What are you doing?” I’m not taking a bath with him.
He looks over his shoulder, seriousness covering his handsome features. “You need to take a shower. Or would you prefer a bath?”
Seriously? Right now all I want to do is crawl into Dad’s bed and sleep. Crossing my arms over my chest, I tap my foot. “I just want to go to bed.” Who does he think he is?
He turns around and crosses his beefy arms over his chest, one of his eyebrows raising. “After throwing up, you’ll be more comfortable if you take a shower and brush your teeth.”
“I’m not taking a shower with you. Or a bath,” I huff, tightening my hold around myself.
He scowls. “I’m not asking you to.”
“Then you can leave,” I counter.
He takes the few steps in one long stride and gets right in my face, his nose pressing against mine. “You smell.”
Now it’s my turn to growl. “You’re a – a – a bully!”
“And you’re being a spoiled brat!” What the hell? We’re both breathing heavily, our chests rising and falling against each other’s. He takes only a half a step back and while closing his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers, obviously annoyed. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? He looks at me, his eyes softening, and walks back in front of me. I’m ready to slug him if I have to. Instead, he takes my face into his hands, gently. His gorgeous eyes and those damn dark long eyelashes make everything around us disappear. “I really want to kiss you.” I swallow – hard. “Can you at least brush your teeth?” Oh. Oh!
Covering my mouth with my hand, I nod rapidly. He steps back, and I swear I see a small smile on that gorgeous mouth. I turn around as he starts to walk out of the bathroom. The water running behind me forgotten, I grab my toothbrush and paste. I squeeze a fair amount of the paste onto the brush and start lathering my teeth. “Don’t be long.” I turn my head just as he closes the door.
After I finish brushing my teeth, I gargle with some mouthwash. Just to be sure. I look at myself in the mirror, bend my head down and take a big whiff. I scrunch my nose immediately. Shower it is. No wonder he was so adamant about me getting clean. After undressing, I step into the tub and lift the small knob for the shower. It actually feels great underneath the spray. Thoughts wildly consume me as I wash my hair and body.
Why is he so mysteriou
s?
Why is he so moody?
He has such a bad-boy exterior that I find so attractive. Not to mention, he looks like how I’d imagine Adonis would.
Why me? I’m nothing special to look at nor am I wealthy. Maybe he thinks I am? Wealthy that is.
I stop my internal rambling and freeze when I hear the door open. Footsteps sound on the tile coming closer. My heart is beating frantically as I throw my arms over my breasts and gasp when the shower curtain is pushed aside abruptly. He’s standing there staring into my eyes, his hand holding the curtain back. “You need help?” His eyes roam down my body, slowly, then back up into my eyes. “You’re taking too long.” I blink a few times and notice his shirt is gone. Damn, those muscles I’ve felt through his shirt are very impressive, and he gives new meaning to wash-board abs. The curtain shuts quickly and I hear him leave the room, the door slamming making me jump. He really needs to stop doing things like that. This is the strangest night.
I quickly rinse the soap out of my hair and off my body, turn off the water, and grab the towel on the rack beside the tub. Once I’ve wrapped it around me, I step out and grab the other towel, almost falling over with dizziness as I bend over to wrap it around my hair. When I stand up, I have to hold onto the counter for a moment. I look in the steam filled mirror, and my eyes widen. I have no clean clothes in here. Shit! Shit! Shit! Looking around the bathroom, I notice there’s nothing I can put on. Holding my head up, I open the door and walk into my bedroom. He’s lying in my bed under the covers. I swallow down the lump in my throat. He raises the covers on the empty side of the bed with a serious face.
