Love Is the Drug

by K. E. Saxon

  1“Enough!” he said. “Stop.”

  But she tried it again, this time with a bit more success.

  He closed his eyes. Tight. A strained moan exploded from his throat. And then he felt a hot tear fall on his chest. He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Stop,” he told her again. She was terrified—which bothered him more than he’d expected. And it was hurting her more than he’d thought it would, too. He thrust his hands through her hair and forced her head back. “It’s over. No more.”

  She shook her head. “I want that letter.” She pressed down harder, then gasped and went rigid.

  “You have to stop. Don’t you see? You’re not ready.”

  She shuddered “I just want to get this over with!”

  He made a decision then. Wrapping his arms around her, he stood up.

  “Wha—What’s happening? What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Making the choice for you,” he told her and strode over to the bed. Her arms flew up to cover herself as he settled her on top of the mattress. She stared up at him, her wide brown eyes full of confusion, doubt, and a whole lot of worry. “But…,” she said, “my sister’s letter.” The desolation in her voice scraped across his conscience like sandpaper over an open wound.

  He pressed his lips together as he lifted the side edge of the comforter up and covered her with it. Then he grabbed the envelope from the niche behind the bureau, sat down next to her, and tucked it into the palm of her hand. “Here. Take this back. I don’t want it anymore. We’re even, okay?”

  She looked from the envelope back up to him. Her eyes were huge. Wet, but huge. He smiled and brushed the strands of hair off her cheek. “Okay?” he repeated.

  There was a very long pause. And then she nodded. “Yes,” she whispered.

  After a minute, he said, “Julie…uhmm…you know we didn’t actually do it, right? I mean, you’re still intact.”

  He wasn’t really surprised when she didn’t answer him, just nodded her head jerkily and turned her face away from him.

  They both stayed where they were, her lying there on the bed, covered in the comforter, and him seated beside her, his hands on his knees, silent, for close to five minutes.

  “Hey,” he said finally, “Let’s go have some fun. Get our minds off this stuff.”

  Julie looked at him as if he’d lost his sanity. “What?”

  He jumped up and grabbed her discarded shorts and top. “Let’s go somewhere—I know! Vegas. I’ve got a prospective client there I should try to see, but more importantly, both of us are in serious need of decompression. And there is no better place to decompress than Las Vegas, Nevada.” He tossed the clothes on the bed and walked over to his bureau and pulled out a pair of jockeys from one of the drawers.

  * * *

  While Jason’s back was turned, Julie grabbed her tank top and sat up. She quickly pulled it on over her head and then stood with her back to him and pretty much leapt into her shorts and shoes. Afterward, she dashed over to her discarded underwear and stuffed them, and the letter, into her pocket. By the time she turned back around, Jason had his jeans on and was buttoning up his shirt.

  She sprinted past him, down the hall to the door.

  “Julie!” She heard the sound of his bare feet slapping against the wood floor behind her. Oh, God, get me out of here! And then she was outside and running down the street. He’d have caught her for sure if she’d tried to get in her truck, and she just couldn’t look at him, talk to him, be with him.

  Not now.

  * * *

  Jason’s lungs were heaving as he stopped on the corner of his block and looked down the next one. He’d lost sight of her a minute ago when she’d cut across the corner yard and disappeared down this street.

  She’d shocked him when she’d run from him a few minutes ago. Had he really fucked up that badly?

  Well, even if he had, Vegas was still the answer.

  He had to get her to Vegas.

  Yeah. Because you could lose yourself there, forget everything, just have a good time.

  After a few minutes, he turned and slowly walked back toward his bungalow. If she wasn’t back in an hour, he’d comb the town for her. But for now, he’d give her a little space.

  * * *

  A bit over a half-hour later, Jason shot out his front door and strode toward Julie, who was halfway up the drive to her truck. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded at him, but her eyes were sad. “Yeah,” she said and yanked the truck’s door open.

  “Wait!” he said, and jogged up to her. He wrapped his hand around the edge of the truck door to keep her from shutting it. “Go to Vegas with me Julie; I swear you won’t regret it.”

  Julie licked her bottom lip. “I can’t Jason. Surely, you know that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” She sighed and combed her fingers through her hair and then tucked it behind her ear. “Because, Jason, our relationship is changed now. And our partnership is over. Kaput. Remember? Our going to Vegas together—after what happened earlier—is out of the question.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down. “I can’t feel comfortable around you anymore.” She dropped her hand to the hem of her shirt and tugged it down. “Besides, I know you’re just feeling guilty. This is some sort of penance, right?”

  “Maybe. A little bit.” He placed his other hand on the truck, just above her left shoulder. “Look, Julie, you didn’t deserve what I dished out, I know that. Your sister, yes. But not you.” He leaned into her slightly, effectively boxing her into the space between the open door and the seat of the cab. “The relationship—our relationship—it can be repaired. It just needs time and for both of us to want to mend it.

  And I do—do you? Please say you do, Julie.”

  * * *

  Julie saw something in Jason’s eyes she’d never seen in them before: desperation. And uncertainty. It made her heart hurt. But she shook her head. "I can't."

  "Julie, yes! Yes, you can—I know you can, if you only will. Please, Julie? You know how much my dad adores you—if we don't mend this, he'll probably be so upset he has another heart attack or something."

  "Jason, you're not playing fair."

  "I know, but I'm desperate. Julie, don't give up on me yet."

  She looked at him for a long moment, torn between her feelings of disgust and embarrassment at what had just happened, and guilt—with a little bit of compassion thrown in. In the end, the latter won out. "Okay, I won't give up on you yet."

  He relaxed his stance and his expression changed to one of relief. “Thank you.”

  “As far as the partnership—” He shrugged and cleared his throat. “I’ve changed my mind, all right? That is—is it all right? With you, I mean?”

  “Maybe. We’ll see.”

  That same look of desperation darkened his features again. “My dad—”

  “You already played that card.”

  “Yeah, but it’s the only one I have.” He strode several paces to his right, rubbing his neck with the palm of his hand as he went. “Look, I fucked up. Horribly.” He turned back to face her then. “Can’t we just forget this? In fact, let’s forget this whole day so far, okay? Let’s start fresh, as if none of it happened. I’m begging here.” He stepped closer to her and tried to take her hand, but Julie shoved it behind her. “Will you Julie? Will you please, please, please go to Vegas with me? Let me make it up to you?”

  She chewed on her lip. “Separate rooms?” Was she insane? She couldn’t go to Vegas with Jason!

  “Absolutely.”

  “Just friends?”

  His mouth quirked up in a half-smile and he shrugged. “If you insist,” he joked.

  She was not amused. “Yes. I definitely insist.”

  He sobered. “Okay.”

  She took in a deep breath and slowly released it. “Fine. I’ll go.”

  He grinned. “Great! Let’s get outta here!”

  * * *

  They were already in J
ason’s Vette, more than halfway to Dallas, before Julie realized her error.

  “We are DRIVING to Las Vegas, right?”

  Jason gave her a goggle-eyed look. “No. Why would you think that?”

  She sat up, sat forward and white-knuckled the dashboard. “Because, I’m afraid to fly!” She darted a look out the window and saw a sign for DFW airport whiz past her vision. “Jason, there is no way—NO WAY—I’m getting on a plane, so you might as well turn this car right back around and drive me home.”

  “But, we’re almost there! C’mon, Julie, live on the edge!”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Nope, not a chance.”

  “Okay. Look. I’ll make a deal with you.” He returned his gaze to the road ahead. “Let’s get to the airport—I’m buying the tickets by the way—and if, by the time the plane boards, I haven’t been able to calm your fears enough for you to get on it, then I’ll drive us back to Buffalo Pass.” He looked at her again. “Is it a deal?”

  Julie shrugged. “Sure.” It'd be a waste of his time though. Because no way was he ever talking her into getting on that plane. No way, no how. No one else had ever been able to—not even her sister—so why should Jason be any different?

  * * *

  An hour later, they were on the flight. “Still nervous? Need a drink?” Jason asked.

  She looked at him. “Yeah. Okay.” She shook her head as she glanced back out the window. “I can’t believe you were able to talk me into this!”

  “We’re not going to crash,” Jason said for at least the hundredth time. He unscrewed the mini-bottle of whiskey and poured it, along with some 7UP, into her clear plastic glass. “Drink up.”

  She lifted it to her lips and swallowed it down.

  “You might want to pace yourself. I can’t get you fed until we arrive.”

  She nodded. “Gotcha.” Her eyes rounded. “Oh, God.” She sat forward and reached for his wrist, almost grabbed hold of it then fisted her hand in her lap instead.

  “I just thought of something: What if Mike needs us there for some reason. Or—oh, God!—what if there’s a gas leak and the house blows up!” She sucked in her breath. “What if it causes a brush fire? And all the land is fried to a crisp! How will we ever be able to recover from that? And—oh, dear lord! My kitten!” She worried her lower lip with her teeth. “Oh, God. I knew I shouldn’t have done this.”

  Jason shook his head at her. “Nothing’s going to happen to your cat. Besides, Mike’ll feed it. We’ll only be gone one night and we’ll be back in Buffalo Pass by this time tomorrow.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Or, I guess we could just fly straight to Houston.”

  She gave him a sharp look. “Houston? Why?”

  He smiled. “To meet with my dad, remember?”

  She smiled then, too. “Oh, yeah.”

  It was the first smile he’d seen since that morning and it sent a rush of euphoric relief through his system. He took a chance and placed his hand over hers. Thankfully, this time, her fingers twitched a little, but she allowed the contact. “So, about Houston—I could get Mike to FedEx the plans—whadya think?”

  She nibbled on her lower lip. “I don’t know—the gas—”

  “The house is not going to blow up.” He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “You’re a little worrier, aren’t you? Funny how we’ve worked so closely together these past days and I’m only realizing it now.”

  “I can’t help it. It’s just how I am.”

  “I think it’s kinda cute.” You’re cute, he thought. “But, seriously, you need to chill a little sometimes, ya know? Kick back; have some fun.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  “So? Do you wanna stay in Vegas another day and then fly to Houston on Thursday?”

  “I don’t know. Let me think about it.”

  “C’mon! There’s so much to do. You’ll love it, I guarantee.”

  “Have you forgotten? All I’ve got to wear are these shorts and this tank top. I can hardly meet your father for the first time as his partner dressed in these.”

  “There are clothing shops in every hotel on the Strip. In fact, I want to take you to a great Italian restaurant I know of tonight for dinner, so we can find you something to wear for that when we get there as well.”

  She gave him a disgruntled look. “Oh—fine—alright.”

  He just grinned at her. “You are going to have the time of your life, Julie Del Mar.” He grabbed an inflight magazine and settled back in his seat. “Just wait and see.”

  “Yeah, as long as the plane doesn’t go down in flames.” She poked her finger into his arm. “And I am not flying from Houston to Dallas. I’ll rent a car and drive back.”

  He didn’t lift his gaze from the magazine, but he did smile when he said, “Sure, whatever.”

  * * *

  Three hours later, nearing seven-forty five Vegas time, Jason held a still-tipsy Julie up as he jammed the card key into the slot of their hotel room. The one-bedroom suite had been a last-minute decision: a) because the hotel was booked solid due to some eighties hair band’s 20-year-reunion tour kicking off there the night before and this was all that was available; and b) because he thought he’d better keep an eye on his travel mate, at least until she’d sobered up. He figured he’d worry about the sleeping arrangements when and if he had to. Hell, it wasn't unusual for him to stay out all night gambling when he came here, anyway.

  He walked through the door with her leaning heavily into his side and holding him tight around the waist. She was still a little too unstable to walk on her own. She’d had two more whiskey & 7s on the plane, and he hadn’t stopped her. Because with each drink, she’d relaxed even more, made him feel like he hadn’t caused as much damage to her as he’d begun to believe. And, yeah, his conscience was riding him for that, too.

  “That burger I bought you at the airport doesn’t seem to be sobering you up,” he said. Stopping in the entryway, he dropped his carry-on to the floor and looked down at her. “Maybe you should lie down for awhile—take a nap—before we go down to the casino.”

  Julie’s gaze was pretty bleary when she turned it up to him. She blinked and stuck out her lower lip. “No. I wanna have some fun! Live on the edge! You promised.” She put her face closer to his. “Hey, has anyone ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

  “Pretty? No. That’s—”

  “Well, they are.”

  “—not a description a guy usually wants to hear about himself, if you know what I mean.” He grinned down at her. “But thanks. I think.”

  “I like your lips, too. Keanu Reeves lips. Mmm. Sexy.”

  “Keanu Reeves? You mean that dude from the Matrix? You like him?” The flash of jealousy took him by surprise.

  She plopped her other arm over his shoulder and said, “Yeah. I always wondered what it’d be like to kiss those lips.” Then she planted one on him. Tongue and all.

  And he returned it. In a flash, he had her up against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on one of his three favorite places: her sexy, hot little ass. And this time, when he pressed the ridge of his erection against her center, it answered that pressure with the fire, the answering motion, that should have been there earlier, but wasn’t. Thank you, God.

  But. She was three sheets to the wind. Probably wouldn’t even remember this later. And if she did—he'd be in the doghouse again, for sure. Shit! Jason broke the kiss. He rested his forehead against hers. They were both struggling for air. After about the fifth intake of breath, he could finally speak. “You still want to go down to the casino?” He was weak, he knew it. But, he swore to God, if she said no, he’d take her to bed right now. Doghouse, be damned.

  Unfortunately—or fortunately, he couldn’t say which at this moment—the burger must’ve finally kicked in, because she nodded and said, “Yeah, sounds great.”

  “Okay.” Even to his own ears, there was a distinct lack of enthusiasm in his voice. He stepped back and slowly dropped her
legs until she was standing on her feet again—this time, with no support. “I’ll take you to one of the stores, too, so we can get you something to wear to dinner tonight.”

  “Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

  He strode over to the door and opened it. “Ready?”

  “You bet.”

  * * *

  Lou Davis’s jittery hand splashed some of the Jack out of the glass and onto his cheek as he slammed it down his throat. It was the third shot he’d taken in a row and, even though it was warm going down, it failed to soothe his nerves. He swiped at his face with the back of one hand while he lifted the empty glass with the other and motioned to the bartender. “Set me up again, Jim.” He slapped a c-note down on the counter.

  “Don’t you think you’d better use that to pay your bookie?” Jim tossed his head in the direction of the private lounge where all the high-stakes action took place. “Weren’t those some of his wise guys just now?”

  Lou shrugged, but his leg started jiggling up and down again. “Yeah.” His eyes darted left and right and then he leaned over the bar a little more. “But I tell ya, Jim, this here”—he put his pointer on the hundred—“won’t even scratch the surface of what I owe. What I need is a story—something sensational—something that I can sell for twenty grand or so.”

  “Your glory days of hot-shot reporting here are over, Lou. They have been for a while. Why don’t you find yourself a new city? Miami, or something, and start over?”

  “Maybe. But, first I’ve gotta pay Bruno.” The crowd behind him at the craps table whooped and clapped. He turned around. “What’s going on over there?”

  Jim shrugged. “A couple have been rollin’ the dice for over an hour. They’re winnin’ big, it seems.”

  Lou nodded and slid off his stool, tucking the c-note in his pocket at the same time. “I’d better check it out.” He walked over and pressed himself through the crowd.

  * * *

  After a few minutes, Lou went back up to the bar. “Hey, Jim, does that couple at the craps table look familiar to you?”

  Jim glanced in their direction and shrugged. “Nah. Why?”

  Lou shook his head. “I don’t know. There’s something niggling at my memory, but for the life of me, I can’t get a handle on it.”