“I am, thanks.” I flashed a smile and turned back to my own table, gazing at Scott’s empty chair.
“Well, maybe we can work together to make it an even better time.” The man was now standing, hovering over me.
The server returned. “Ma’am, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut you off.”
“Cut me off? What da hell for?” I snickered at the slurred words.
“You’re here alone, and we can’t be responsible for sending you back out on the streets. Perhaps if you have a little something to eat?”
My face twisted into a pout. I leaned in to read her nametag. “Come on, Sheila. Help a girl out. I don’t wanna eat. Just another shot. Pretty please?”
Sheila opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly silenced as the man brushed past her and plopped down in the seat across from me.
Scott’s seat.
“You heard the lady. She’ll take another drink.”
“But...” Sheila grimaced as Mr. Cocky put his hand in the air, silencing her once again. Poor Sheila. Her eyes grew wide.
“My friend here is not alone. She’s in my personal care, you have my word.” His lips curled at the ends into a devilish grin as Sheila disappeared in a huff.
“Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that.” I rolled my eyes and popped my lips, proud of myself for piecing together a full sentence. At least it was a full sentence in my head.
“No worries. I didn’t want to see your good time come to an end. Let me introduce myself,” he leaned in and took my hand. “I’m Jared, and it is absolutely my pleasure,” he stated just before planting his wet lips on my hand, leaving the heavy stench of stale tobacco.
“Dakota,” I responded as I snatched my hand away and wiped the backside across my jeans. I gave a weak smile when I noticed the wounded looked in his eyes.
Sheila slipped in and out without being noticed, other than the two tiny glasses left on the table. I raised an eyebrow and motioned towards the one in front of Jared. When he shook his head, I shrugged and tossed back my own shot.
Jared angled his jaw, jutting his chin into the air. He shoved his glass in my direction. I viewed the gesture as a challenge. I was happy to comply. I locked eyes with Jared and drained the glass. Surprised at how the burning had disappeared, I didn’t react to the harsh liquor. I smirked. My chest bowed.
What the hell is happening to me?
His cocky expression faded. “Impressive.” I wasn’t too drunk to notice the way his raspy voice dripped with an undertone.
“Mmhmm,” was all I could manage. Jared spoke, but I couldn’t make out his words. However, by the gleam in his smoldering eyes, he thought I was fully engaged.
“So, what do you think?” He asked with an expectant leer.
“I’m sorry, about what?”
He pressed his lips together and scratched his forehead. “About moving this party to my place.”
Before he finished his sentence, my stomach pitched. The boiling liquid rebelled in my gut, bubbling in my throat. I tried to swallow back the bitterness.
I pushed my chair back from the table and struggled to stand. The fuzziness in my head made it difficult to judge distance and I toppled over.
Jared bent over, never leaving his chair. “Maybe you should go clean yourself up a bit.”
“Ya’ think?” I spat back at him.
Sheila busted through the crowd and stooped over me. “Aw, hon. I knew this would happen.” She shot her gaze at Jared, who only shrugged. “I thought you were going to take care of her?”
“Hell no. I didn’t sign up for this shit.”
I noticed a pair of obnoxious dress shoes shuffle past. Dodged that bullet. I chuckled, only to be reminded that the eager vomit wouldn’t wait much longer.
“Come on, hon. Let’s get you up.” Sheila’s hard scowl gave way to concern. She pulled her brow together and ran her hands over my arms.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
She offered a warm smile. “Anyone can see you’re in pain. I wasn’t trying to ruin your good time. I was trying to keep you from making things worse for yourself. Come on now, let’s get you up.”
My body shifted. “Bathroom...”
Sheila’s eyes widened, indicating that she understood the weight of the situation. She quickly plucked me up from the slick floor and I zigzagged through the mob of jazz fans. I barreled through the bathroom door and fell into the first stall.
One heave was all it took. I retched every ounce of liquid from my body.
My legs trembled as I tried to stand long enough to rinse out my mouth. I wrestled with the decision to look in the mirror, ultimately giving in.
My soft curls now looked like a used cotton swab. My makeup was smeared down my face. Dark circles encased my dull eyes.
Scott would be disappointed. What I wouldn’t give to hear him tell me what a fuck up I was.
A flash of green eyes with strands of shaggy black hair peered back at me. His warm smile, now twisted from disapproval.
Scott.
CHAPTER THREE
Pain pierced my eyes as I pried open my swollen lids. The thumping in my temples radiated through my veins.
“Dumbass.”
I shot up, instantly regretting the sudden movement. I groaned and fell back into my pile of pillows. “Shit.”
“Yeah, you feel pretty bad, do ya’?” Megan’s chipper voice cut into my head like an ice pick to my eye.
“What happened?” Through the tiny slits in my heavy lids, I could make out the furrowed wrinkles between Megan’s brows. My brain pounded against my skull, hammering in rhythm with my heartbeat.
“Well, I was in the middle of a cut and color for the songwriters gala. You know the event I’ve been talking about for months. The one that would have opened doors to a whole new level of clientele. Yeah, I was in the middle of coloring when I get a call from some chick named Sheila from The Black Keys. She said she dug my number out of a cell phone. Anyway, she starts telling me how someone I know is drunk and needed help. I’m like, hmmm, that could be a ton of people, so I asked her to describe the person. Imagine my surprise when she goes on and on about some skinny, curly headed, loud mouth chick who’s tossing her cookies in the bathroom. I’m like, hell no. Not Dakota. There’s no way Dakota is stupid enough to be shitfaced and alone in the Warehouse District.”
I cringed with every word.
“Oh, I’m not done. By luck, I found someone to take over my client, the one that’s been on the books for months, and head down to the club. What do I find? My best friend passed smooth out on the funky bathroom floor.”
My cheeks burned. I buried my face further under the comforter.
“The only reason I didn’t take you to the hospital is because, by the look of that bathroom, you threw up all the alcohol in your system. Not to mention everything else.” Megan wrinkled her nose and grimaced.
I swallowed. My throat was on fire. It felt like I had eaten my weight in sandpaper and glass.
“Sip slowly.” Megan had always been able to read my mind.
I took a small sip, but the cool water was so refreshing against my fiery throat that I started to guzzle. My stomach quickly revolted and I heaved. Thankful there was nothing left to throw up, I drew in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds to make sure.
“Yeah, but I didn’t get a gun.” I attempted a small chuckle, but to only set my lungs on fire.
Megan’s usual vibrant smile faded. “You’re not amusing, Dakota. Not anymore. Get cleaned up and meet me in the living room.” She placed two, tiny capsules on the bedside table. She must have noticed my reluctant expression. “Chill out, it’s just ibuprofen,” she responded as she left me to wallow in my own self-pity.
I took a quick shower, mostly because the hot water left me nauseated and dizzy. I brushed away the muck that had been growing on my teeth and threw on a pair of Scott’s old sweats.
“We’re going to have another argument, aren’t we?” I su
nk into the corner of the sofa and buried myself with a throw pillow.
“No, I’m done fighting. It’s not getting us anywhere, but we do need to talk. Need to clear the air.” Megan looked so regal. Always dressed to the nines, poised with her shoulders back, immediately making me feel inferior.
“If it’s about last night, don’t bother. I won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”
The way Megan’s discerning eyes focused on me made me squirm.
“It’s not so much about the drinking. It happens to the best of us. I’ve been drunk more times than I can count. It’s more about the why. Why the change in character. The cussing, the crazy daredevil shit, wanting a gun, the need to go out alone and put yourself in a dangerous situation like you did last night.”
“You’re making too much out of it. I wasn’t in any danger.”
Megan sighed and smoothed her hands over her silky hair. “I spoke to the waitress. She told me that you came in alone and she tried to cut you off. She also said some guy came out of nowhere and was trying to pick you up.”
“Oh yeah, Jared,” I mumbled.
She scoffed. “Well, Jared was all about getting you liquored up and your pants down. He was trying to get laid.”
“It wasn’t like that.” I tried to piece together the details. Maybe it was. He did say something about his place.
“Oh honey, it’s always like that.”
Tears pooled in the corners of my eyes. “Not with Scott it wasn’t.” My voice quivered as the words escaped.
Megan moved across the room and sat beside me on the couch. “You’re right. That’s not what Scott was about. He loved everything about you. All of your curls and quirks. Your giving nature and huge heart. He loved the way you couldn’t wait to get your hands on a new book or the way you preferred take out to being around actual people. Damn, he even loved the way you used the word fudge as a cuss word.”
I giggled through the sob welling in my throat.
Megan played with one of my wet curls. “That’s why I don’t get it. I don’t understand. Why are you trying to change all of the things he loved about you?”
My pale skin flushed. Blood soared through my veins, the surge causing my heart to beat faster. “What’s the point? He’ not here anymore. He’ll never tell me what he loves about me again. He doesn’t care anymore. He’s not a factor.” I cradled the pillow tighter, praying the tears would wait until I was alone.
“Dakota, you’re making things harder on yourself. Yes, it’s true. Scott’s gone forever, but his imprint on your life is here to stay. Why are you working so hard to destroy that? You think I don’t know what you’re doing, but I do.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I was unable to look at my omniscient friend. She could see right through me.
“Don’t play dumb. I know you better than you know yourself and I’m not going to let you do it.”
“Do what?”
Megan folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not going to let you kill yourself.”
I bolted from the couch. “You’re out of your mind!”
Megan followed and met me toe for toe. The walls were closing in again. My pulse raced. I inhaled through my nose and slowly released the air through my mouth to try to steady my breathing.
“Scott’s gone and I think you’re losing it.”
“Scott’s gone because he was a big idiot who wouldn’t listen to reason. Who gives a shit if he had a big heart, if he’s not here to share it? He was always sticking his neck out to help someone. I told him it was going to get him in trouble, but he never listened. His big heart and always having to be the nice guy got him killed. I’m not letting the same thing happen to me. No more of the nice Dakota. No more of the meek and fragile Dakota. No more of Scott’s Dakota. It’s my turn. I’m not trying to kill myself. I’m taking my life back. I’m finally ready to live.”
“Honey, I get that. I do. But it scares the shit out of me the way you’re going about it. You can’t keep going down this collision course. It’s going to catch up with you.”
I took a step back, shaking my head. Heat flooded my eyes. “I don’t know how to do anything different.” The dam broke. Tears pooled before spilling over and down my hot cheeks.
Megan pulled me in for an embrace. “I know, sweetie. Let me help you. It’s what I’m here for, okay?”
Unable to form words, I nodded.
“Do you think it would help if you go talk to someone?”
“No!” My eyes widened. The thought of having to share Scott with a stranger made my stomach somersault.
“Okay, don’t freak out. We’ll table that idea for now. What about focusing on something positive? Instead of this new badass scary adrenaline shit you seem to be into, why not find something that still has the same effect, but has a positive impact as well?”
I had no idea what the hell she was talking about, but I had to give her credit for trying. She wasn’t screaming at me or smothering me like a wounded child.
I tilted my head. “I’m listening.”
Megan paced the length of the room, rubbing her chin, before coming to an abrupt stop. “What about the gym?”
“I don’t think I can do that. I’m not ready. It still makes me break out into a sweat when I drive by the building.”
“Okay, that’s not a problem.” Megan planted her hands on her curvy hips and smiled. “Why not find a new facility? Get back up on that hypothetical horse. You love working out and exercise is a legit adrenaline catalyst.”
I let her words sink in. I wasn’t always the fitness type. In fact, I hated everything about it, including anything that had to do with my body. I had gangly limbs and no ass. My boobs were too big, making me resemble a cartoon character. I always assumed I looked like a freak. I finally got sick of my bitchy mirror and joined, Better You, a health club.
From the moment I stepped into the gym, I felt all of the judgmental backlash. Stared down by women who looked like they could be supermodels hovering around the cardio machines. I turned to leave, but never made it to the door. A handsome young man wearing workout pants and a Better You polo tapped me on the shoulder. Once I turned around, I was met with his inviting green eyes. His beautiful lips curved into a warm smile. Little tufts of black hair fell across his forehead.
I was a gym junkie from that moment on. It was his side job, but he poured 110% of himself into whatever he did, priding himself on his work ethic.
I gazed at Megan, pondering her suggestion. “Well, I have been feeling sluggish lately.”
A glint of hope shimmered in her eyes. “Excellent! It’s a plan then. Tomorrow you’ll go and find a new health club. A good one. State of the art equipment and maybe a cute trainer or two.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t start.”
Megan winked and clasped her hands in front of her chest. “I’m still keeping my fingers crossed. How about tonight we binge on crappy food and movies? Kind of like your last night of freedom before hitting the treadmill?”
I nodded, praying my optimistic friend was right. In the meantime, I put my plan in motion to get rid of my hangover with a tub of cookie dough.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Get your fucking hands up! If you wanna puss out, you’re not gonna do it my fucking ring. Get your shit together or get out.”
The trainer leaning over the ropes was huge. Even from across the room, I could make out his bulging muscles. He was tall with a buzzed head. He instantly scared the shit out of me.
I surveyed the rest of the area looking for an employee that wouldn’t send me running for the hills. The smell of dirty laundry and sweat assaulted my nose. Music blared from the speakers hung in the corner with duct tape. Heavy metal no less. There were no inviting green eyes or warm smiles. The sign above the door simply read, ‘Champs’. It was a small, but well utilized space. Boxing rings lined two walls. Free weights and bags lined the others, leaving an actual cage in the middle of the room. The lighting wasn’t
the best and there was no front desk or greeting area. I must have looked like a lost puppy.
An older man popped out from an office. The door was labeled, Boss.
“Howdy there. Something I can help you with?” He was a short man with a mushy mustache and beady, but kind eyes.
“Yes, sir. I’m Dakota Asher.” I stuck my hand out and tried to ignore the cartwheel in my belly. “I guess I should have called, but I wanted to look into your membership plans.”
The man chuckled and wiped his hands with a bandana. “Well Dakota, I’m Jim. Everyone calls me Boss. I’m the owner of this here fine establishment. I‘d love to help you out, but we don’t exactly do membership plans here. You train. You pay. That’s about it. What are you looking to do?”
I knew I needed an advantage. There wasn’t a single woman in the entire gym. Boss was nice enough, but I caught on to his snickering. If I didn’t stand my ground, he was going to laugh me right out the door.
“I want to look into some MMA classes. I was told this is the perfect place.” I didn’t want to tell him I found his place on Google and picked it because it had a zero rating. I didn’t want to run into anyone who knew Scott.
It worked like a charm. Boss beamed. “You were told right.” He scanned me from head to toe and arched one gray, bushy eyebrow. “I’m not trying to be rude honey, but have you trained before?”
I knew I had gotten a little too thin since leaving the gym. But that didn’t keep me from trying to pull off my charade. Besides, he didn’t specify MMA. “Yeah, it’s been awhile, but I know my way around a gym.”
Even I wanted to laugh myself out the door.
He twisted his lips and nodded. I hoped Boss wasn’t a card man, because he had a terrible poker face. It was all over his face. He thought I was insane.
“Alright then. Let’s get you on a bag and we can discuss memberships later.” He grinned, emphasizing the word memberships. He was picking at me.
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