Side Effects

by Lisa Suzanne

  “Why not?” His voice was angry.

  “I’m hanging with Avery.”

  “Would she be in for three?”

  “Fuck you, Tyler.”

  He shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”

  I rolled my eyes. It’s a damn good thing he was hot, because he was a real jackass sometimes.

  “Our hallway, then?” His voice was hopeful, as were his eyes as he gazed down at me. A part of me wanted to go to the hallway and give him what I knew he wanted, but another part of me wanted to maintain my dignity. I just made out with another man. It wasn’t good form to go suck another man’s cock less than an hour later.

  “Not tonight.”

  He made some noise that sounded over the music like a cross between a snort and a guffaw. “Whatever.”

  He headed back the bar, and as Avery and I danced, I couldn’t help my eyes darting over to see what he was doing.

  And, of course, I was only punishing myself as I watched him chat up some thin little blonde thing with enormous tits.

  “Can we go?” I asked, and Avery nodded. We split a cab home since she lived just down the street from me, and as I wandered into my apartment alone, I realized how much I wanted Reed to be there with me.

  Tyler would’ve been acceptable, too, but those blue eyes nagged my mind with a constant and consistent dull ache.

  My goal for the next night was to do what I had to do to get this annoying man the fuck out of my head. The best I could hope for was that we’d share a night together that would lead to him banging himself right out of my system.

  And it wasn’t until I was lying in bed, about to fall asleep, that I realized that when Reed’s hips had me bound against the wall, I didn’t freak out from my claustrophobia.

  Maybe Reed was the answer to burying some old memories and getting over my fears.

  I woke with a start, the memory of the crash burning anew in my mind.

  That tended to happen when I fell asleep thinking about it.

  I could still smell the burnt rubber and the powder from the airbag. The car skidded across the pavement and crashed into another car before finding its final resting place against the pole of the stoplight. I remember the flashes of headlights as we twirled toward oncoming traffic for that brief moment, my heart stuck in my throat as I screamed.

  But the worst was the sound.

  I could never escape the crunch of metal followed by the retching of the driver and then his soft, pained moans. The smell of vomit tinged with beer filled the air while I was trapped in a space barely wide enough to fit my body.

  Waiting killed a part of me and left me with the anxiety that I feared would plague me for the rest of my life.

  I started at the digital read of the clock in the dashboard, mere inches away from my head. Only eight minutes ticked by, but it felt like eight hours. Waiting for first responders to arrive. Hearing the sirens as they tended to his side of the car first because I was conscious while he was not. Feeling what little breath remained leave my system as they carried an unresponsive Griffin away from the scene before they peeled me out of the car as well.

  The dashboard was right in front of my chest, severely restricting my movements. I felt like if I tried to take a deep breath, the dashboard would break free of whatever held it in place and crush me. So I stilled, sipping in tiny whispers of shallow breath until help arrived.

  Those were the images in my dreams.

  Those were the things I remembered from the accident, the things that haunted me still.

  The accident was the turning point in my life. It was ironic that the destruction of a car was what led me down a path of destruction in my life. You’d think a near death experience would force me closer to my loved ones, would force me to view the world differently, perhaps; but no. It was the combination of Griffin and the accident that made me realize that life was too short to waste time on something permanent.

  And that was when my visions of settling down with the man of my dreams and a white picket fence and two and a half kids and a puppy were quashed in favor of fast men, buckets of alcohol, and an all-around good time. Jared had been my one exception to that rule, and we all know how that ended.

  Griffin had twelve beers and some cocktail combination of drugs at a party and claimed he’d be fine to drive me home.

  I was only twenty-one. I had just turned the legal drinking age, thank God, or the ramifications could have been much worse for me. I hadn’t done anything legally wrong; while it had been pretty stupid to get in the car with someone as fucked up as my boyfriend at the time had been, I had escaped virtually unscathed but for the damning side effect of claustrophobia. By comparison, Griffin left the scene unconscious, coded on the table in the operating room, and died later that night.

  It was the drugs that had killed him, not the accident.

  He’d have lived through the accident, I found out later. But the combination of drugs he’d had in his system had caused his heart to fail.

  I had allowed him to verbally abuse me and push me around, but that didn’t stop the pain from losing someone who I thought I loved.

  I knew that night before he died that I had to break up with him. As I trembled through the night with the thought that I could have died, I knew it was over. When your life flashes before your eyes and it’s because of the guy you’re dating, you realize that you need to cut the fat from your life.

  But he prevented me from doing that when he essentially killed himself.

  I hadn’t dreamt about the accident in a long time. I still thought about Griffin from time to time even though the accident had happened years and years earlier. Anybody who has had a loss thinks about what they lost, even if it was toxic.

  And every time I thought about him and the accident, I realized that it could have easily been me who died that night.

  I took a deep breath as my body shuddered at the memories, the edges of a panic attack just starting to assault me. I focused my mind on the blue eyes that somehow managed to rile me up and calm me down all at the same time. And somehow, someway, the thought of Reed relaxed me enough to stave off the panic.

  CHAPTER 10

  I knew I wouldn’t be productive at work. I was too fucking nervous for my date with Reed, and it was completely throwing me off of my game. So I called in a sub for a mental health day and stayed home, opting to clean my apartment and primp myself in favor of running a discussion on To Kill a Mockingbird.

  I slept in so I’d be well rested for the evening ahead, but once I was awake, I found that staying home hadn’t been the wise idea I first thought it would be. My thoughts centered exclusively on Reed and his fucking blue eyes, and my anxiety grew with each passing moment of the clock as it ticked toward 7:00.

  My phone buzzed with a text a little after 5:00. What’s your address?

  Why don’t you ask my brother?

  Should I ask him if I can borrow a condom, too?

  That’s just disgusting.

  Why do you make everything difficult?

  I didn’t reply, too nervous to form the exact right comment.

  What the fuck was this guy doing to me? I had never, ever cared what a man thought about my texts before. What was I suddenly anxious about?

  My nails were freshly polished, as was my furniture, my hair was straightened, and my make-up was perfect. I went with a cleavage enhancing, tight yellow shirt paired with jeans that made my ass look great. I pulled on a pair of heels that matched the exact shade of my shirt, and I did a once-over in my full-length mirror. I smiled at my reflection in the mirror like I always did, and then I heard a knock at the door. I glanced at the clock: 6:58. He was early.

  My heart pounded as I walked toward the door. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before opening the door, and once I opened it, my heart rate picked up as the anxiety that had been eating away at me all day crashed over me. It wasn’t Reed standing on the other side of my front door.

  “Wha— um, what are you doing
here, Tyler?” I was stunned.

  “Hey,” he said softly. He looked delicious enough to strip down there in the hallway, but I didn’t have time for that. Reed was going to arrive any minute, and I had to get rid of Ty. What would Reed think if he saw another man there?

  “I wanted to surprise you,” he said softly. He wasn’t a soft man, and the modesty didn’t work for him. I wasn’t used to it coming from him. I was used to him demanding that I get on my knees to suck his cock. “I’m not working tonight, so I thought we could hang out.” He stepped through my doorway and made a move to take me in his arms.

  I stopped him with my hand on his chest. “I never pass on an opportunity to hang out with you, but I actually have plans for tonight. You’ve got to go.”

  He looked hurt, and I immediately felt bad.

  “Can I come by later?”

  I had no idea what direction my evening with Reed was going to take, but I knew that Ty coming to interrupt us in the middle of it was a bad idea.

  “Can we hang out tomorrow instead?”

  “I have to work tomorrow.”

  I thought fast. “I’ll come to Strikers, then.” Let’s be honest; I was probably going to go hang out at Strikers anyway, and it would hopefully appease him and get him to leave before Reed showed up.

  “Alright.” He nodded and leaned in to kiss me. I turned my head at the last second so his lips caught the side of my mouth awkwardly. I didn’t want someone else’s lips on mine seconds before my date arrived.

  He chuckled and then smiled a sad smile. It was weird seeing Tyler like this. Something was going on with him, and I wasn’t sure what it was, but I wasn’t currently in the right frame of mind to figure him out. He’d always been a bit of a mystery, but stopping by unannounced wasn’t at all like him.

  He turned and walked away, and I shut the door and leaned against it, breathing in a deep breath and exhaling loudly.

  Thirty seconds later, as I was still leaning up against the door, a loud knock sounded right next to my ear. I jumped about fifty feet in the air, and then I dragged in another deep breath before opening the door. This time Reed stood there, right on time and holding a bag of food. He wore a black polo shirt with jeans, and the contrast of seeing him in something other than a white shirt and khakis did something serious to my chest. I felt funny and tingly again, feelings I only felt when Reed was around. Or when I thought about Reed.

  Which was pretty much constantly.

  But I did notice that those feelings didn’t fill my chest when Tyler had just been in my doorway.

  His eyes were a deeper blue than normal against his black shirt, and he had opted for contact lenses again over his glasses. His hair was a little messier than usual, probably a result of working all day and rushing to get to my place with dinner on time. It was still neatly groomed, but it just looked a little softer than usual. I had the urge to shove my fingers in it.

  He shoved the bag of food toward me, and that’s when I saw the anger in those blue eyes. They were stormy, and maybe that was the difference. Maybe it wasn’t the black shirt that made his eyes glow. He held a small bouquet in his other hand, and he shoved those in my direction, too.

  “Come on in,” I said, taking the bag and the flowers from him. I went to the kitchen and set the bag of food down, and then I went to the sink to set the flowers down. I pulled a vase out of a cabinet.

  “What, exactly, is going on between you and the bartender?” His tone was accusatory.

  I rolled my eyes. “None of your business.” I filled the vase with water and put the stems in it, arranging them. I noticed he had chosen yellow flowers, and the thought struck me that it was oddly perfect how closely they matched my shirt.

  “Quinn, I need you to be honest with me. I am not interested in starting something with someone who is involved with someone else.”

  “A, we’re not starting something. And B, I’m not involved with Ty. We’re just friends.”

  I set the vase on the counter, admiring how beautiful the flowers looked. Reed moved in close behind me. I felt his warm breath on my ear.

  “Don’t you fucking pretend like we aren’t starting something, Quinn. I know you felt the same thing I did last night when we kissed.”

  I couldn’t lie. He was absolutely right. “Fine,” I said. His body slanted closely against me as he pressed me into the counter. He was taking control of the situation, and something about that turned me on. Maybe it was his inner bad boy emerging. Maybe he was more my type on the inside than I’d realized.

  And just in that moment, I realized for the second time that I wasn’t scared when he was trapping me. I didn’t panic against the counter with his body closing in on mine.

  All it served to do was fuel the lust that was already coursing through my veins.

  He had turned me on with that kiss the night before. Hell, who was I kidding? I’d been turned on since I realized that I couldn’t stop thinking about him. “I felt it, too. Alright?”

  “No,” he said, his voice frustrated. He swept my hair off of my neck and his lips pressed hotly against my skin. His tongue whispered a trail from my neck to the secret spot behind my ear that made my knees weak.

  “No?” I asked, suddenly breathless.

  “No.”

  He backed off and spun me around so fast that I was almost dizzy from the movement. “Don’t lie to me.”

  He was intense. I wanted to diffuse the tension I felt radiating between us. “I’m not lying to you. I enjoyed our kiss.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “Then what the fuck are you talking about?”

  He heaved a deep, frustrated sigh. “The bartender.”

  “Tyler? Is that why you’re so angry?”

  “I’m not angry. I’m aggravated. I saw you on your knees in the hallway with him, so don’t stand here and tell me that you’re just friends with him.”

  “Fine, then. Friends with benefits.”

  “I can’t be with someone who has benefits with someone else, Quinn. But god dammit, I can’t stay away from you.”

  I moaned while his lips found my neck, and then he backed away and started talking again. “I saw him leaving just now. Close call. Almost didn’t finish fucking him before your next man arrived.”

  I raised my hand and slapped him across the face.

  Part of me had always wanted to do that. I grew up watching soap operas with my mom, and I learned two important things from those shows about when a man gets out of control: you either slap him or you throw a drink in his face. I didn’t have a drink nearby, so…

  He backed away from me, his eyes flashing. Now he was angry. My slap did it.

  But I was unapologetic about it. He could kiss my ass.

  “Walking in here and throwing accusations around is not the way to get into my bed, asshole.”

  “I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

  I slap the guy and he apologizes to me? Surely this was uncharted waters.

  “Yeah, it was,” I said.

  “I’ve never met a woman who frustrates me so much.”

  “I’ve never met a man who continues to piss me off so much. And the thing is, Reed, I hardly know you. You hardly know me.”

  “I know what I want. For one, I want you to admit to me that you can’t stop thinking about me. I want you to just fucking tell me that you want me as much as I want you. I want you to stop playing this stupid game.”

  “Why are you pursuing this so relentlessly?”

  “Because I’ve never met anybody like you. From that first night in the bar, even when you were a complete bitch to me, I was attracted to you. And every time I see you, I like you more, Quinn.”

  “You’re not my type.”

  “God, even now, a guy gives you a compliment and you tear him down. I’m not sure anymore why I’m trying so hard.”

  He was right. I was being a complete bitch, and he deserved better treatment than that.

  “I’m sorry.�
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  His eyes met mine, his scorching and still stormy but now mixed with a hint of trepidation. “You are?”

  “Yes. You’re right. I’m being mean, and you’re trying so hard. I’m just not used to this.”

  “Not used to what?”

  “I’m not used to being nervous around a man. I’m not used to having a genuinely nice guy pursue me. I’m used to assholes like Tyler who blow me off unless they want something from me.”

  “Can we start this night over?”

  “Please. Well, except for one thing.”

  “What’s that?” he asked wearily.

  “That thing you did with your tongue on my neck. I don’t want to erase that part.”

  He grinned, and I couldn’t help the smile that broke out across my face.

  He started pulling food out of the bag: a dinner salad, crusty bread, and cheesy pasta. I brought over plates and utensils, and he set out portions of our food while I poured us each a glass of red wine in the kitchen.

  Reed sat at my little black kitchen table when I came in, and he had one plate in front of him while the other plate was at the seat next to his. So apparently we would be sitting next to each other rather than across from each other.

  “Thanks,” he said as I handed him a glass.

  “I should be the one thanking you for bringing this meal.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said.

  I smiled and looked at my plate. The food looked delicious, but suddenly I wasn’t very hungry as I anticipated what might come after our meal.

  He glanced around my eating area and into my kitchen. “What’s with all the owls?”

  I smiled. “I collect them. In my family, once you tell people you like something, that’s all they ever buy you. Kitchen towels, bath towels, jewelry, clothes, figurines. You name it, and I’ve probably got something with an owl on it.”

  “Why owls?”

  I shrugged. “They’re cute. And wise. Like me.”

  He chuckled. “Can we do the whole getting to know you thing now?”

  I shot him a look of confusion.

  “Remember when I asked you on our first date to tell me about yourself and you shot me down?”