Crash Ride

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Crash Ride Page 15

by T Gephart


  My hands on her were something I’d avoided. Why torture myself? But the minute that I had her, there was no way I could pretend she didn’t matter, that I didn’t want her. That I didn’t think about her, each and every fucking night.

  So what did she do? She turned around and left with some other guy who, as far as I was concerned, hadn’t proved he deserved her.

  “Dude, that vein in your neck bulges any more than it is now, you’re going to spring a leak.” Jase’s stare nailed me from across the table.

  “I just think she can do better than him. C’mon, Jase, even you can admit she doesn’t belong with him.” The pool cue in my hand was probably getting a little more pressure than it would have liked.

  Jase shrugged. “He seemed okay.” He pulled the cue out from my death grip before it snapped. Smart move.

  “Okay? Are you serious, brother? He called her Megan the whole fucking time. Everyone knows she prefers Megs.” None of this shit was even close to being okay.

  Jase took a swig of his beer, his smirk poking out from behind the bottle. “So it’s her date’s tendency to use her real name that has you in a mood. Good to know.” His shit-eating grin got wider. Smug bastard.

  Too juiced up to stand still, I paced around the room. “And what the fuck is up with calling her baby? He’s known her for like five fucking minutes. Maybe he should’ve just pulled his dick out and taken a piss on her, it would have been less obvious.”

  Jase eyeballed me hard, planting his ass on the beat-up couch beside the table. “So you going to tell me how long you’ve been sleeping with her or we going to insult the poor dude some more?”

  “Fuck.”

  I thought it as well as said it. No point denying it now, I’d been acting like a moody asshole since Megs had walked in. It was only a matter of time before he wised up and put two and two together. Must’ve been why he asked Josh to go have a friendly beer with him at the bar, not his hard-on for the off-menu microbrew. He’d clued up that we needed to talk, and like the stand-up guy that he was, he made it happen. I parked my ass on the chair next to him and slowly let out a breath.

  “I’d suspected as much.” Jase casually took another mouthful of beer. “Dan might have his head up his ass, but I’ve noticed your little secret squirrel meetings with Megs, and your lack of female company.”

  “We thought we’d kept it under wraps.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and hoped no one else had caught the vibe.

  “Trust me, dude, I’m almost positive no one has noticed. James and Alex are so focused on the album and we’ve already established Dan’s main concern is making Ash his Mrs.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I figured if you hadn’t mentioned it, you probably didn’t want to talk about it. I wasn’t going to push the issue.”

  That was the big difference between Jason and Dan. If I’d been sitting here with Dan, he would have run his mouth for the next few hours demanding to know the how’s and what’s of the situation. Jase on the other hand, had no interest in the details. He just sat back and relaxed, and if you wanted to spill your guts then he’d happily listen. No pressure, either way. It was the main reason why I’d called him and asked to shoot some pool with me tonight. I didn’t want the fucking twenty questions that usually came with a night out with Dan.

  “Megs had said she had a date tonight, I had no idea she was coming here. He’d already kissed her, third date and everything. Do the math. I wasn’t going to sit at home like a fucking little bitch.”

  “So I’m your rebound. Nice.” Jase tipped his chin with a grin.

  “Well getting loaded and other women were off the table so… No one gives a fuck who we are here. I just wanted to shoot some pool, maybe have a beer without someone trying to crawl into my lap.”

  That had been the plan at least. Then she’d walked through the doorway; looking so hot I’d had to nail my feet to floor so I didn’t walk straight over to her and attack her mouth. The fact she was with a dude meant jack shit to me. As far as I was concerned, the asshole was touching what didn’t belong to him.

  My head fell back against the couch, wondering if while I was sitting with my dick in my hand, the tattoo king of NYC was rounding second base. “This is so fucked up, man.” And wasn’t that the understatement of the fucking century.

  “So, I’m guessing this was more than just a sex thing.” Jase proved how smart he was by reading between the lines.

  I shut my eyes and let out a breath. “Yep.”

  “You love her?”

  Jase’s simple question was like taking a bat swing upside my head. Did I love her? I didn’t want to be without her, and if that’s what love was then yeah, I was there.

  Well, fuck me. I wasn’t just being a jealous asshole, nope. It went much deeper than that, but there was no way the first time I would be saying it would be to Jase. It would be to Megs, or not at all.

  “What I do know for sure is, that I like her a hell of a lot and I don’t want her with someone else.”

  Jase drained the rest of his beer and cracked his knuckles. “Sounds like we have problem.”

  “Yep.”

  “You want to go get a burger or something, talk some of this shit out?”

  “Should we paint each other’s toenails as well?”

  “Well I sure as hell ain’t going to try and braid that shit you call hair.”

  “Let’s get out of here, I need some distance.”

  “Right behind you.”

  ****

  While we’d decided against painting each other’s nails, we did end up back at my place. Somewhere in between throwing a few hands of poker and tossing back a few beers, I’d given Jase the rundown on the Megs dilemma. It didn’t solve shit but it kept me from punching holes in the drywall. I didn’t even want to think about how Megs had spent her night. Nope, not going there. I was pushing that shit to the side of my brain that had a big do-not-disturb sign hanging off it.

  We must have crashed at some point because when I woke up in the morning there was a half spilled bottle of beer on the floor and a passed out Jason Irwin snoring on the rug.

  “Dude.” I reached down and gave him a shove. “How much did we drink last night?”

  Jase peeled open an eye. “Fuck, man. Your floor sucks.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “I have the mother of all headaches. I need about ten Excedrin and five gallons of coffee.”

  “On it.” I fished my phone out of my pocket and sent Dan a text to bring some coffee around. The day wasn’t going to be pretty for either of us. The empties of the floor gave me a hint we’d drank more than a case between us.

  My stomach rolled as I made it my feet. “Grab the door when he gets here. I’ll get the Excedrin so this sucks a little less.” Not that I was convinced they were going to make a shit of difference, nothing in my medicine cabinet was even going to make a dent.

  I needed out of here. The place, the situation and the mind frame. At least that’s what I kept telling myself as I snagged the bottle of pills from the bathroom cabinet and went back to the living room.

  “Fuck, you both look like shit. Rough night?” Dan tossed me the what-the-fuck the minute I walked back in.

  Awesome. My morning hadn’t sucked enough.

  “Don’t start asswipe. I have zero mood for your shit.”

  “Wow. You seriously need to get laid.” Dan handed me his usual response as he parked his ass on my two-seater.

  Yeah, that was the fucking solution. Not likely. “Thanks but I don’t think any amount of pussy is going to cure the migraine.” I tossed the bottle of Excedrin to Jase.

  “Shit going down I need to know about?” Dan eyeballed me as I collapsed into the chair beside him. He didn’t need to say he had my back— the look was enough.

  “Nope, just need to sober myself up so I can drive.” That’s about as much as I was willing to share. My head fell back and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my liver to kick in and get the show on
the road.

  “You taking off?” Dan asked.

  “Yeah, a couple of days. Maybe Atlantic City?” My eyes rolled back into focus as I lifted my lids. Who knew where I’d end up. The location was irrelevant. The distance was what mattered.

  “You want some company? I’ve got no where to be.” Jase swallowed his pills followed by his Java chaser.

  “Fuck it, we should all go. We’ll be like the Wolf pack. Let me square things away with Ash.” Dan didn’t bother to check if I wanted the tag along. I guessed this was his version of trying to make me feel better.

  “No offence, but I don’t need my hand held.”

  “Stop being a buzzkill. We’ll even find someone to suck your dick while we’re there. Trust me, it will improve your zero mood bullshit. Bring your suit too, I want to play the tables and I’m going to need a spotter,” Dan added, not giving a fuck that he hadn’t been invited.

  “Fuck me, this isn’t about your scheme for counting cards is it?” Jase lowered his cup.

  Dan folded his arms across his chest not willing to admit his plan was bogus. “Hate all you want, but that shit is full proof.”

  “Hey Rain Man.” I didn’t even bother addressing how much we weren’t going to be getting my dick sucked. “You get caught doing that, a big scary asshole takes you into a little back room and messes you up so badly you’re going to spend the rest of your days shitting into a bag.”

  “Seriously, Troy.” Dan rolled his eyes. “I’m going to need to hook you up with Megs with some therapy. That is just messed up.”

  Silence.

  “Okay. Someone want to tell me why we’re eyeballing each other and don’t give me some bullshit excuse about being hung over.” Dan shot us a both the start-talking look.

  “We saw Megs last night.” This was going to be fun. Of all the things I didn’t want to talk about, Megs and last night were at the top of the list. “I was less than polite to her and her date.”

  “Megs was on a date last night? Huh, must have been the last one. Anyway, you need to jump on the horn and make that shit right.” Dan poked me in the chest. “No need to be a pussy about it, just tell her you’re sorry and move on. She’ll forgive you. That girl is a sweetheart.”

  Ain’t no way things would be smoothed over by a phone call but the dude wasn’t to know that. How would that call even go? Hey, I know you were with some other dude last night but I wised up to the fact I’m in love with you and need you to be my girl. Too little, too late on that one. And what the fuck was the rest of the stuff he was talking about?

  “Wait a minute. What do you mean by last one?”

  Dan waved it off, already bored with conversation. “I mean she called Ash last night, she isn’t seeing the tattoo guy anymore. Something about it not working out. I didn’t pay too much attention.”

  “Dan, I need you to focus.” I grabbed him by the shirt and leveled him with a stare. My heart thumping like the fucker was keeping time to Metallica. “Are you sure that’s what she said?”

  “Lay off asshole, fuck.” He pushed off my hands and straightened his shirt. “Yes, that’s what she said. What’s the big deal?”

  The big deal was that last I saw of Megs she was upset and needed to be held. I didn’t know the why’s or the what’s, but shit wasn’t right. I’d asked her not to go home with the asshole she’d walked with, but she left anyway. His fucking hands on her as they walked out. She didn’t fight him so I assumed any further attention was going to come courtesy of the guy who kept calling her baby. They didn’t look like they were heading for splitsville.

  “When we saw them, they didn’t look like they were about to break up.” I was still trying to wrap my head around it.

  “Well maybe after you saw them they got into a fight or maybe the kid found Jesus and was no longer interested in pussy? Whatever the reason, they ain’t together anymore.” Dan clapped his hands together and rubbed in anticipation. “Now let’s talk AC.”

  There was no way I was getting in a car and going anywhere right now unless it was to Megs’s apartment. I didn’t give a fuck if I had to bang her damn door down, she was going to talk to me and tell me why she’d been so sad, and then I would tell her that this bullshit about keeping away from each other was just that—bullshit.

  “Yeah, that trip ain’t happening.” I needed to see her. “Dan, you’re right. I need to go make this right.”

  “Oh fuck, man. I was looking forward to taking down the house.” Dan whined like it was an actual possibility. Poor fucker didn’t stand a chance at a legit casino.

  “Please go home before you hurt yourself. I have genuine fear for you, brother.” It was bewildering to me how he had managed to skate through life without doing jail time.

  “With pleasure.” Dan smirked before flipping us off. “Unlike you two morons, I have an amazing woman to go home to.”

  Dan headed to my door and I followed him out. The clock was ticking and I was still pissed I was standing in my apartment and not on my way to her.

  Dan stopped in my doorway. “Troy, smooth over whatever needs smoothing. I don’t want to have to punch you in the sack ’cause Megs won’t talk to you at the wedding.”

  That wouldn’t be happening. Her and me, we were going to work this shit out, and she was not going to be dating or kissing any other douchebags. Nope. I was done sitting back and pretending that what we were doing made sense. Whatever the chances were, I’d be taking them, and short of her telling me she felt nothing, I wouldn’t be walking away, any time soon.

  Maybe I was a cocky son of bitch, but I had zero hesitation in looking at Dan and telling him, “I’ve got this.”

  What time was it? My eyes slowly opened to sunlight burning my retinas. Like a dumbass, I’d forgotten to close my drapes last night before I’d collapsed into bed. It was too early and I had no reason to be awake. Ugh. I needed coffee.

  Josh had driven me home, given me sweet kiss on the cheek and then said goodbye. He even waited until I was safely inside my apartment before leaving. He wasn’t even weird about. I hoped this didn’t mean the next guy I dated was an asshole, not that I would be dating anyone anytime soon.

  Rather than going to bed like a normal person and trying to forget my horrible night, I instead voted to stay up watching cheesy RomCom reruns. With a box of Kleenex and obviously no common sense, I watched as time after time the hero found his way to his heroine and they walked off into the sunset together. It was enough to make me want to hurl my snotty, scrunched up tissues at the screen. But instead of doing that—which would have been totally reasonable— I just sat there and watched another. The definition of insanity is repeating the same action and expecting a different result. I was clearly insane.

  Damn it. I tried to squeeze my eyelids shut and hoped to ignore the happy beams of light that danced on my comforter. Assholes, I didn’t want to be awake, and I sure as hell didn’t want to be happy. Yet, ironically, my eyes were wide open and I didn’t feel so bad. Maybe it was a new day’s perspective or maybe my fatigued brain was giving me a reprieve, whatever the reason, I was grabbing onto it.

  Ugh, my legs kicked off the covers —it was too hot. Wordless pictures played on the television, the same screen that had tormented me. While I had been smart enough to mute the stupid thing, I hadn’t turned it off. The remote nestled within the mess of crumpled tissues —the graveyard of fallen tears on my bedside table. Tragic.

  The buzzer from my front door demanded attention; the relenting sound meant my fantasy of staying in bed was not going to happen— my second disappointment for the day.

  I assumed it was Ash. She had wanted to come over last night after I called her. No amount of telling her it was unnecessary would appease her. I was just glad she waited until the morning, letting me have my pity party undisturbed. Hopefully she had a really big coffee and maybe a muffin.

  Reluctantly, I swung my legs off the mattress. My feet hit the floor heavily as my hands scrubbed my face. I tried to not imagin
e what I looked like. Nightmare came to mind. Or possibly, one of those scary zombie walking dead dolls. Ash was going to have to overlook my bad hair day and my puffy eyes.

  Slowly I trudged to the door, the buzzer continuing to sound. Geez, Ash, give me a minute. My finger hit the release on the lower external entry and I cracked open my front door, waiting for her inevitable arrival. I really hope she brought that coffee, I needed the caffeine hit like no other.

  The sounds of footsteps echoed up the staircase, my door flew open to reveal… Troy Harris? Huh? My head couldn’t reconcile what I seeing.

  “Troy? What are you doing here?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Instead, he kissed me. Really kissed me. Like those stupid, sappy movies I’d watched, he wrapped his arms around me and he lifted me off the floor. His mouth was on mine like he needed me to breathe.

  I didn’t care I hadn’t brushed my teeth or that I looked like shit, none of it got any airtime. I wanted the kiss to last forever, for him to hold me with the desperation that he was…forever.

  “You’ve been crying.” He peeled his lips from mine and lifted my chin to look at me. “Did that asshole hurt you?”

  “He wasn’t an asshole, and no, he didn’t hurt me.” Josh had been far from being an asshole. He should have hated me for using him as my rebound guy but instead had been sweet and kind. I shook my head and repeated. “He didn’t hurt me.”

  “Did I hurt you?” Troy’s finger trailed against the edge of my jaw.

  “I hurt myself.” I shrugged. “You did nothing wrong.” He hadn’t. He had just followed my fucked up diagram on how to screw up a friendship, relationship, whatever it was. I still have no idea what we actually were.

  “That’s bullshit. I did plenty wrong.” He lowered his lips and kissed me on the mouth again. I guessed that was the end of the conversation and as long as he kept kissing me, I didn’t care.

  Troy’s hands threaded through my hair, his fingers tangled in the messy waves as the kiss intensified. He moved his hands down my neck and then across my shoulders like he was trying to remember me by touch. It was erotic and sensual and sweet baby Jesus— it was really turning me on.

 

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