by K. F. Breene
“Screw it. Let’s do this.” Sara raised her shot in the air. “To new beginnings.”
“Hallelujah!”
The bottoms of the shot glasses saw the ceiling.
Liquid fire scratched down Sara’s throat and clawed through her esophagus. It turned to acid in her stomach. “Oh gross, oh gross, I’m going to—” Sara held the back of her hand over her mouth as her stomach rolled.
Christie eyed her with an evil grin. “C’mon, girl, do it like a champ.”
Sara shook her head adamantly. Her grimace took over her face. “That was…” She had to pause for her stomach to gurgle. “Ugh.”
“And the night has begun.” Christie patted Sara on the back again before heading back to the table.
Sara breathed fire as bile rose in her throat. Her stomach gurgled, very unhappy. Very, very unhappy. She’d never been a serious drinker.
“Hello again. Haven’t seen you around in a while.”
Wonderful timing, as ever.
Hand still on her stomach, Sara straightened up and turned to the speaker. Unspeakable handsomeness looked back, his muscular chest a foot from hers, rock hard and cut from stone. Good Lord this man had a nice body.
“You’re in the mood to party tonight, huh?” Duke said.
“You need something, Duke?”
Relief washed over Sara as Mikey stepped to her side, slipping his arm behind her back and resting it on the bar. His hazel eyes held something she’d never seen before. Hard and sharp, they cut through Duke’s resolve like a blowtorch through paper. Duke’s back bowed and his cockiness ebbed. His eyes, exactly the same level as Mikey’s, glared. Mikey stared right back, his body flexed and taut, causing Sara’s small hairs to stand on edge.
“You lookin’ to go, man?” Duke asked.
One pec twitched on Mikey’s body. He cocked his head to the side. “You sure that’s what you want to do?”
Duke’s fists clenched. He held his ground, but his muscles were lightly trembling. “Really, bro? You’re gonna take a stand on this chick? What about that Brazilian broad you didn’t bother with… You want to rumble over some average brunette?”
Sara’s insides shriveled. A picture of the young, beautiful intern Phil left her for flashed in her head. Then her own face, worn and lined, the glow of youth faded.
The breath exited her lungs as Mikey said, “Move on, Duke. Or I will remove you.”
Duke paused for a moment. He stared at Mikey, who stared back.
“Screw it,” Duke spat. “She’s not worth the effort.”
That didn’t need to be said.
Sara let her attention wander to the door. She should probably just get a cab and go back to her bed and a book.
“Hey,” Mikey said a moment later in a deep, soft voice. He sat on a stool and pulled her into his body.
“You don’t have to stick up for me, Mikey,” she muttered, settling between his legs and folding up into his arms. She laid her head on his collarbone, face turned into his neck. “You’re probably tired of that role. I should be stronger. I shouldn’t always need you to… I just shouldn’t always need you.”
“I want you to need me. That’s my job, remember? Your protector. Sweetie, I know you’re hurting. Hell, I can see that you’re hurting. And I get it—trust me, I’ve been there a time or two. You think your heart is being ripped out of your chest, it hurts so much. You’d rather someone just stab you and be done with it. And then there are the low, depressing nights when you lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, certain you’ll never get over it. You are miserable when your friends drag you out, but you’re miserable at home, on your own. You are your own worst enemy, and feel like no one will ever love you again. Am I right?”
Agony welled up in Sara’s chest as a tear overflowed. “Yes,” she whispered.
“You think your life is over—that you’ll never recover. But you do. Time passes, and you remember to live again. You remember to take pleasure in the little things. You stop taking all the great things in your life for granted, and you move on. This is your first heartbreak, so it really sucks. But please, baby, please believe me when I say he is not the last man you will love. And he is nowhere near the last man who will love you. Take this for what it was—a life lesson. Learn from your mistake, and let your heart heal. Let someone else love you.”
Sara took a ragged breath. It sounded so easy, but letting someone else love her meant putting herself out there again. And if it didn’t go right, all her fears would be confirmed. She didn’t want to face any more pain.
She didn’t want to feel at all.
She straightened herself up a little, still wrapped in his arms. She let her face hover alongside his. “This sucks, Mikey. I’m not really in a great place in life right now. I’m the dead body that turns up at a garden party.”
“The dead body… Honey, I don’t think this will come as a shock, but you need to work on your analogies.”
She snorted out a laugh and rested her cheek on his. His arms tightened, drawing her in tight, her front firmly against his chest and groin. His fingers splayed on her back, so hot. His face turned just a fraction, some of his breath mingling with hers.
“Will you be okay?” he whispered. She could feel his lips brush the edges of hers.
Heat filled her. Suddenly she could feel every inch of him—his strong thighs pressed against the outside of her legs. His rock-hard chest, glorious and defined. His large arms, holding her tight, promising safety and security. Her groin throbbed, begging to be entered. Her body pulsed, wanting to be touched. To be loved and desired.
In a flash of panic, she realized her body was reacting to a man, not to her oldest and dearest friend.
Her breath caught as she backed up quickly, peeling herself from his hard body so she could stand on her own. His hands slid to her hips, steadying her for a moment, but after glancing at her face, he let his arms fall to the side.
“I’m okay,” she said in confusion, struggling out from between his legs. “Sorry—my head is not on straight.” She chuckled to ease the awkward situation.
How about that cab?
“I’m just… going through a midlife crisis or something. Before midlife. I need to figure out what I’m doing—”
“Hey,” Mikey said, straightening up next to her. He didn’t pull her in this time. “You’re just in a rut. But don’t worry, I have plenty of shovels—I’ll help you dig out.”
She allowed herself a smile. “Life sucks.”
“Yup. But the suckery is usually better when shared with friends.”
“You read that on a T-shirt?”
“No, but I’ll put it on one if you like. Million-dollar idea.”
“Oh, goodie. Yes please.”
She took a deep breath before giving Mikey a light, friendly punch on the arm. “Thanks,” she said. “For being an awesome friend. And for scaring Duke away. He’s been…” She shook her head.
“Pestering you, I know. Jake mentioned it. Stay away from him. He’s bad news.”
“Christie already warned me. But thanks. Again. Times two. Etcetera.”
“Sometimes I think you just talk to get all the words out of your head.” He took a step toward the table, waiting for her to step with him.
She complied, trying to shake off the pallor Duke had thrown on her. “Yes. I need to make room for more awesomeness.”
“Oh, you have plenty of room.” Mikey led her back to the table. “It’s the awesomeness you need to come up with.”
“Jerk.” She bumped him.
“Christie would prefer you used jackass.”
Sara laughed. “Jackass.”
“There you go.”
Shaking her head, she said, “The bartender says ‘screw you’ for the water, by the way.”
Mike laughed. “He’s extremely sociable. Loves when people friend him on Facebook.”
“I bet.”
* * *
Three hours and a hazy number of beers later, Sara was w
obbling freely. She wasn’t kidding when she said she hadn’t been out drinking in years. Literally. Years. Her body wasn’t used to it. Not even remotely. A glass or two of wine with dinner couldn’t even compare to a hastily eaten dinner and a tanker’s worth of hard alcohol washed down with beer.
What was worse? Mikey was barely drinking. He was under the alcohol limit for driving, while she was flying the white flag in the face of sobriety. He’d probably use all of this for blackmail.
“Okay, all I’m saying is, if I can go ‘over the top,’ I can totally win.” Sara clunked her elbow on the table, hand up and open, ready to arm-wrestle. “C’mon, Greg, show me what you’re workin’ with.”
Greg gave Mikey a wide-eyed glance with the corners of his mouth turned downward. Apparently having asked some sort of silent question, and then getting an equally silent answer, Greg smiled and said, “Green light. Sara, I am going to rock your world!”
“Oh no.” Christie jumped up, hands out wrestler style, staring at Greg’s wobbling fist. Only Mikey had stayed sober. “I am ref-reeing. On it. Oh-fich-i-ale.”
Greg rolled his eyes at Christie and said to Sara, “She’s hot, but she’s a douche.”
“Oh my God.” Christie put one hand to her chest, the other on top of the arm wrestle waiting to happen. She blinked her eyes like a Hollywood starlet. “I-am-touched, Gregory. Touched. Also, fuck you.”
Greg nodded like he expected it. “All right, c’mon, Reno. Let’s do this. Mike, if you punch me when I win, I will cry like a bitch.”
“What?” Sara and Christie cried together.
“Amendment,” Greg said, and paused to burp under his breath. “I will cry like a little boy.”
“Better.” Christie nodded exaggeratedly, swaying over the hands.
It was time to go home.
“Okay.” Christie raised one hand over her head. “Ready… Set…” She paused, staring off to the left.
“What’s she looking at—” Greg’s loud whisper was cut off with, “Go!”
Sara leaned with all her might, her arm shaking under the strain. Greg grinned.
Sara’s scowl increased.
Greg’s grin widened.
“Girl power!” Sara brought hand number two up, grasping his fist. Greg’s brow creased, and his eyes squinted, but his hand barely moved.
“C’mon, you horse’s ass. Give over,” Sara roared, standing up now and putting her weight against Greg’s arm. “Christ, what the hell are you made of, the moon?”
“You need to eat some.” Greg laughed.
Suddenly, his arm started to push toward her. Muscle pulsing, Greg was moving Sara’s whole body.
“No!”
“Give over,” Greg mimicked, winking at Mikey.
“Over the top,” Sam yelled, eyes half closed and slouching in his chair. It didn’t seem like he was any better at holding his alcohol than Sara. Why he’d kept taking shots with Christie, when Sara had not, was anyone’s guess.
“Glad I made you watch that movie?” Mikey asked Sara with a smile, sitting back in his chair and watching Sara struggle.
Yes. She was.
Greg paused in his domination so Sara could make a show of moving her fingers from the side of Greg’s fist, to the top. Directly on top. Movie lore said she should now win.
“Go!” Christie yelled.
Sara strained with one hand.
Greg didn’t even budge, which she expected.
“This seems… harder,” Sara said, her voice tight. Her other hand came to the rescue again, immediately followed by her body weight.
Grinning harder, Greg applied strength again.
“Dang it!” Sara grunted, being pushed back. “How is he so freaking strong?”
“On it!” Christie pushed against Sara, using her body weight to help capture the win. She fell on top of the competition, Greg having no choice but to let his hand fall with the onslaught.
“Now, how is that fair?” Greg asked as his hand hit the table, still pinned beneath Christie as Sara fell away.
“Girls rule, that’s how,” Christie retorted, climbing off and slapping Greg’s back. “Ha!” She did a fist pump. “Okay. Bathroom. Sara, let’s go.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“You know, I could be a lot drunker, I think,” Sara said as they walked down the hall.
“It’s because I’ve made you drink one water for every beer. Almost. That’ll help—I’m not kidding.”
“Except I have to pee every five minutes.”
“Better than throwing up every five minutes, which is probably what lies in Sam’s future.”
“True words.”
After they’d used the bathroom, they met up at the mirror. Sara scrubbed the makeup out from under her eyes as Christie brought out lipstick.
“Greg’s kinda hot, huh?” Christie said nonchalantly.
Sara couldn’t help a sly smile. “He is definitely pretty hot, yes.”
“With a nice body.”
“A very nice body.”
Christie rubbed her lips together. With her middle finger, she wiped off a smudge of dusty pink before scanning her face. “And he’s got a good job. I think he gets paid well.”
“He seems nice. He seems like a good guy. Trust me, that’s worth its weight in gold. You need someone sweet that’s going to take care of you.”
“I don’t need someone to take care of me. I make my own money.”
Sara stepped toward the door, waiting. “I’m not talking about paying your bills. I’m talking about respecting you. Taking care of your heart. You need a man to put you first. Someone that’s going to guard you from the beasts of life.”
Christie snorted. “I think I’ll just settle for hot with a great body. If I wait for the guy you described, I’ll probably end up alone with twelve cats.”
“That guy exists. And while I don’t have proof, I do have a great collection of cartoons that are adamant about it.”
Christie laughed and grabbed a paper towel. “I gave my Disney collection away right after I decided I didn’t need to be saved.”
Sara pushed her and smiled. “Shut up, you still have it.”
Christie gave Sara a guilty smile. “Okay, yes, but that’s just because I secretly want to rock Prince Eric’s world.”
Chapter 9
A few hours and a lot of laughs later, things were starting to wrap up.
“You girls ready to go?” Greg asked, returning from settling his bill with the bar.
Sara finished her glass of water alongside Christie. Sam stood against the table, swaying dangerously. He hadn’t slowed his drinking, and his balance showed it.
“Sara, ready?” Sam reached out a heavy hand. Finding what he was looking for, he clumsily rubbed Sara’s back.
“Yeah, uh…” She took a step away. “I think I’ll just use the bathroom real quick. Christie, you have to go?”
“No, I’m good. I’m going to help Greg get Sam to the van.”
Sara nodded and started off, slapping Mikey on the arm as she passed. “At ease, disease!”
A smile lit up his face as he said, “I’ll wait for you.”
“Kewl.”
“Only dorks say cool like that,” Christie hollered, hooking a shoulder under Sam’s arm.
Sara shook her head and smiled as she made her way into the bathroom. She finished up as quickly as possible, only doing a quick glance to make sure she didn’t have makeup all over her face, before rushing out to catch up with the others. Two steps out of the door, she ran into someone heading to the guys’ bathroom.
“Sorry,” she muttered as she stepped to the side to let him pass. The large body stepped with her.
In confusion, she glanced up. A shock of surprise coursed through her. Duke’s handsome face smirked down at her.
“Hi,” he said, stepping closer.
“Oh, uh…” She stepped away, trying to edge around. “Hey. Jake’s here to take us back. So I gotta go.”
“Oh yeah?” He jo
stled in front of her, his body brushing hers. One of his hands reached for her, pinching skin as she wriggled away. His voice lowered intimately, but Sara could hear the edge to it, clearly frustrated that she kept trying to get around him. “I thought we were into each other at the beginning of the season. What changed? Not rumors, I hope…”
She smiled nervously. “Oh, no. No. I was just busy, is all. No biggie.”
“That’s what I thought.” His eyes glittered with lust as he stepped toward her, backing her toward the end of the hall.
“I have to—”
“Whoa, wait a minute, where ya goin’?” Duke cut her off again, this time spreading out his hands to block the whole hallway. He stepped forward, making her, once again, retreat. She was running out of hallway. “I just want to talk.”
“I have to go. They’re probably waiting.”
“Now, don’t be shy. And don’t worry about Mike Frost. Me and him have history. I wasn’t talking about you earlier. That’s just something—wait a minute.”
Cold prickles of uncertainty started in her stomach as Duke pushed in close. Her back bumped against the wall. Shadows fell across her face. She couldn’t see beyond Duke’s large body, poised to trap her.
“They’ll wait.” Duke reached out for her midsection. Sara gulped a breath, ready to scream. “I just wanted to say—”
His body jerked backward before being thrown to the side. Limbs slapped the wood. A dull thunk accented his head bouncing off the wall.
Mikey stepped toward Sara, positioning himself between her and Duke.
“What the fuck, man?” Duke bounded from the wall, wiping spit from the corner of his mouth. His heated gaze fell across Mikey.
“I told you to stay away from her. She doesn’t want any,” Mikey said in a low tone.
Faster than lightning, Duke’s fist struck out.
Mikey arched his back and Duke’s fist sailed past Mikey’s face with only inches to spare. Before Duke had regained his balance, two fast punches rocketed out from Mikey, landing on Duke’s body, hard. Mikey stepped forward in a rush, practiced and lethal, no stranger to this style of fighting. Another fist hit home, doubling the other man over. He grabbed Duke’s body and pinned him against the wall.
