Toxic (The Crossover Series)

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Toxic (The Crossover Series) Page 5

by Kathy Coopmans


  She hasn’t been too keen on my college schedule. I do my best to spend every minute I can with her.

  “Remember, no classes Tuesdays or Thursdays, and no work on Mondays since the bar is closed. Those will be our days to hang. I found a dog park for you, too.” I kiss the tip of her nose and set her on the bed.

  She goes right to her favorite chew toy while I pick out my outfit for the night. It’s not as if I’m hitting the clubs like a normal college student. Nope, I’m going to get my fix on the stage, letting my soul fly free. I grab my favorite red dress that dips low in the back and hugs my hips, and my black strappy heels, apply more makeup than usual, and straighten my hair, letting the thick strands fall in an eighties-style big mess down the middle of my back. It’s all part of the charade for the stage, and secretly, deep down, it’s my favorite part.

  The Shade Tree is dead when I arrive. I ease into delivering a few drinks to the customers littering the bar. I don’t miss the fact Peaches is more than zealous teaching me how to make different drinks. I know she’s just as excited for me to turn twenty-one as I am. I’ll be able to help her out more even though by Idaho law I could be slinging drinks already. It’s another one of Aunt Peach’s weird quirks.

  “He was amazeballs!” Lexi’s overeager voice floats my way from the other end of the bar. “I mean, he was out of his mind pissed drunk, but the man had skills like no other. He’s a controlling man in bed. And his tongue is magic.”

  “I’m jealous. I’ve wanted down that man’s pants since he arrived in Idaho. I mean, I’ve studied his bulge in all the photos on the web, and he’s part of the mafia. Runs around with all the football players and wears a suit. He probably carries a gun, too. I mean, how much more of a bad boy than that could you get?”

  My eyes go wide. I don’t realize I’ve over poured the vodka until it starts dripping all over my hand. “Damn it,” I mutter. They have to be talking about Alex. I feel sick. Not over the mafia part; that I already knew about. It’s the way they are talking about him as if he’s a prize instead of a human that has my stomach ready to puke down their backs.

  They sound immature and childish.

  “I’m not sure about the gun. You, however, need to quit staring at his dick. He’s mine, remember? It’s not just that, though. He’s so much more. I mean, he has a face of a god and treated me like his own queen.” Lexi swishes her long locks over her shoulder.

  “Eh, I know he’s off limits. I guess you two are the real deal, Lexi. I do believe you finally found your man. About time he came to his senses.”

  Huh? How old are these two again?

  Lexi raises her eyebrows, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. “Yes, he apologized while I was sucking him off. Told me over and over how sorry he was. You can call me the queen of the empire.”

  “So, tell me, how big is he, like in inches. Six, eight, ten?” Her friend leans in closer, waiting for the answer.

  I jolt when Peaches takes the glass and bottle from my hands, slides a tray of beers in front of me, rolls her eyes, and nods in the direction of a waiting table. I’ve stomached all I can anyway. I grab the drinks, thankful for the interruption. How dare they talk about my Alex like that?

  My fingers tremble under the circular tray, and I damn near drop it. Where in the hell did that thought come from? He’s not mine. Far fucking from it. A chorus of tingles runs the span of my stomach, stirring up the utmost anxiety-driven sensation. I hate myself for the mere thought of him being mine. Or do I?

  God, my anxiety is escalating over him.

  “Maria, what did you just say?” I spin on my heels. Anger at the way she said my name is burning straight through my bones.

  “You talking to me?” I lift a brow, glance back and forth between the two half-naked women. I’m all for showing off what the good Lord gives you, but for shit’s sake, let's not have half our nipples peeking out from the deep slit down the center of our shirts. I’m surprised Aunt Peaches is allowing this.

  “It sounded like you said ‘Alex’?” Lexi’s head whips my way. She huffs out a breath, rolls her eyes, and places a hand on her hip.

  It would serve her right if I said his name out loud. The man isn’t a piece of property. He’s a human. One with many flaws, but still.

  I’d really love to tell her to fuck herself. Teach her how to keep her mouth shut. Wonder how she’d like it if I mentioned how her king not only had her but another so-called queen hanging on his arm the other night when they walked out of here. Doubt she’d want everyone to know he was double dipping his big six to ten inches in someone else the same time he was with her.

  I’m the opposite of everything Lexi is. She has manufactured bleached blonde frizzy-as-hell hair. Mine is wavy and a boring light brown, but at least I do something to tame it, liven it up a little. Her tits are as perfect and plastic as they come. Mine are all natural, coming in at a healthy C cup. I’m boring. She’s flashy and right up his alley if she’s going to share her man with others. Which means, a woman like me is not his type.

  “Nope,” I say, shrugging when what I’d really like to say is why not share him with your friend since she’s so eager to fuck him? My fingers grip tightly onto the edge of my tray. This girl has no idea how badly I want to lay her out.

  Lexi crosses her arms over her chest, her cleavage a painful singe to my eyes.

  “If you know something about him, you better tell me now. If not, let me make myself perfectly clear. If he comes in here when we're working together, I’m the one who serves him. You stay away from him. He’s mine.” Her green eyes flame with hate. She’s jealous. I’d place the winning bet she saw me talking to him when he was in here that very same night.

  Mean girl games have never been my thing. But I’ll kick her ass country-girl style if she threatens me again.

  “Sure thing. He’s all yours,” I lie knowing full well if he comes back in here, it won’t be to see her or me; he’ll want to spend the evening with Jameson, Johnny, or Jack, and that notion alone should keep me as far away from him as I can.

  The working crowd soon filters into the bar, leaving me little time to dwell on my thoughts. It doesn’t mean I don’t scan the bar every now and then for a glimpse of the man who I can’t stop thinking about. I haven’t seen him since I threw his money at him. Five long days, but who’s counting? I shouldn’t be thinking about him at all if what Lexi says is true.

  I sigh. I feel bad for stomping out of Alex’s office. It wasn’t my brightest moment, but it was the right thing to do before I fell into the strange feelings I have for a man who is way out of my league as well as more trouble than I can handle. Seeing his face all bruised up and the turmoil in his rich, dark eyes was nearly my undoing.

  I wanted to wrap him in my arms, take him somewhere safe, and let him tell me what’s caused him to drink the way he does. My heart races at the thought of him leaving me alone as I asked.

  Why can’t I get him off my mind?

  When it’s time for my set, I change and pour everything into it, letting my confused emotions rest in the old country, blues, and current hit songs. I’m exhausted mentally by the time I exit the stage. Peaches picks up on that fact when I slump against the bar and slip off my heels.

  She pats me on the shoulder. “Why don’t you head home? We’ve got this. In no time, you’ll get used to working and going to school. Besides, this crowd loves your voice about as much as I do.”

  “I’m fine.” I’m not drained from the things she thinks. It’s because I can’t get a certain man off my mind.

  “I’m the boss. Go.” Her stern voice leaves no option for a rebuttal.

  “Okay. Love you.” I lean across the bar to give her a hug. When her caring arms circle my back, I can’t help but think of Alex again.

  I grab my purse and work uniform from the back room, count my tips, and slide them into Peaches’ purse with a note telling her ‘thank you,’ and head for the parking lot. The silver lining to the end of this confusing
day is the sun kissing the mountains casting glowing orange and pink hues across the parking lot. No darkness and memories of the yelling man from the alley. My step is lighter as I plan out what junk food I’m going to buy before going home. Miss Dixie is going to get her Netflix and chill earlier than promised.

  My silver GMC Sierra sticks out in the parking lot. My graduation gift from my parents. Cooper set the bar high for our parents always making sure their children were treated equally. I was fine with a chocolate cake, but they bought him a truck, so they left no room for argument when they told me I was getting the same, and what sane girl would turn down a brand-new truck?

  I round the tailgate staring at the cracked asphalt, ready to hoist my purse in the back seat when movement catches my eye.

  “Holy shit!” I jump back, slamming my palms over my chest.

  Alex raises both hands in the air. One is clutching a brown paper bag in the form of a bottle.

  “You scared the shit out of me.” I fight to steady the rhythm of my heartbeat. “Asshole.”

  Alex crooks up a brow, not defending himself in the least. It’s then I realize he’s sitting on the curb next to his car with a tormented expression painting his features.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I plant a hand on my hip, my confidence regaining its footing. “Stalking my fucking truck now?”

  “This is yours?” He points the brown bag in the direction of my truck. “Sweet ride. Should have guessed a sassy, sweet, sexy thing like you would drive a truck.”

  I open my mouth to fire back, then what he says suddenly dawns on me. He didn’t have any idea the truck was mine. Most importantly, my mind is overloading with his description of me. I snap it closed as fast as it opened, deciding on a new tactic.

  “What are you really doing here, Alex?” My shoulders slump in defeat. I give up. God help me, right or wrong, I like him. I don’t want to argue anymore.

  “Honesty? Or want me to lie?” He holds up the bottle in the air.

  “Not in the mood for your games, Alex.” God, please don’t say you’re waiting for Lexi.

  He rises to his feet. I’ve never seen him so steady and sure of himself. He almost seems taller.

  He doesn’t sway as he closes the space between us. His actions contradict the smell of whiskey on his breath as he speaks.

  “I want to go in there. I want to get fucked up and numb myself. Haven’t had that feeling in a few days, Maria. I’ve been sober since I last saw you. I feel each piercing sting life sends my way. I’m fucking holding on to the last shred of it right now. I’ve had four swallows of this bottle since I parked my car here. I’m doing my best to talk myself into dumping it out and going home. The thing is, my demons are louder than anything else in my head.” I’m startled when he steps into my space and drops his forehead to mine. “Damn, you smell good, and you look beautiful in this dress. Pretty sure you look beautiful in anything, Maria.”

  My heart cracks at his admission.

  No one outside of my family has ever told me I’m beautiful. No one who sends my head spinning and my heart lunging, anyway.

  I don’t want to move away from him. So, I don’t. I breathe in the real Alex, sponge him up as long as I can, but when he closes his eyes, I reach for the bottle in his hand, and when he willingly lets it go, I tip it upside down and drain it. The splatters of amber liquid cascade onto the parking lot.

  “Have you eaten dinner?” The question blurts out as our lips ghost against each other.

  “No.”

  “Want to?”

  “Yeah.” His hand clutches my hip.

  The action reminds me of him and Lexi. I can’t have him over if they are dating. He can’t touch me or speak to me like that either.

  “Um. Lexi’s inside. She might come out at any time.”

  “Okay. Let her,” he responds, brows pinching together in confusion.

  “She was bragging earlier about the two of you being together. If you’re dating, then she’s the one you should be calling beautiful.”

  “Lexi?” He pulls back, dropping his hand. His Adam’s apple bobs, and if I’m not mistaken, guilt leaks from his eyes. “You mean the woman who works here with you? I’m not sure what she has to brag about unless it’s how I fucking ended up throwing up all over her and her friend before my zipper even came down. Nothing happened with either one of them when I left here that night, Maria. I won’t lie to you. It’s cliché as hell, but I haven’t been with anyone since I found out you lived here. Before that, shit, before that, I did sleep with her once. I don’t remember much after I left here, but I sure as hell know I didn’t sleep with either one of them the other night.”

  I smile when what I really want to do is vomit all over him. The thought he’s touched Lexi at all rips me open.

  But, and this is a big one for me to swallow, there’s something about Alex that I can’t shake out of my system. On top of that, it’s clear to see the man is fighting his memory as well as those demons.

  “You think it’s funny?” he asks, a glint now shining in his eyes.

  “Yeah, she was bragging to her friend how amazing you were.”

  He places his hand back on my hip, fingers digging in. “I don’t want to talk about her. I want to talk about you. The only woman I’ve pictured while enjoying a release since I saw you sing here was you. It’s been courtesy of my own fucking hand. Whiskey dick is a real thing, baby.”

  Yearning pulses through my being, stopping dead center in my chest. This is a terrible idea, and yet I can’t move away or stop the next words from tumbling out of my mouth.

  “About dinner?” I stutter, suddenly hot and flustered. My legs quiver as I think about him taking himself in his hand.

  “Yeah. Dinner is a fine start, Maria.”

  A fine start to what?

  I don’t listen to my heart or my brain because the way my name rolls off his tongue has me fighting the urge to kiss him, whiskey scent and all.

  7

  Alex

  I’d busted my ass at work all week to try and keep Maria out of my head. Once I fully submerged my mind into it, it was the one place I didn’t think about drinking. It took me longer to get my head in the game than usual, but for some reason, these past few days had shown me a bit of clarity. I even made amends with my hot-tempered brother before he left to go back to New York. I stood my ground with my dad while he sat next to me going over our contracts with vendors. I’d done everything to keep my mind occupied on something else besides her and alcohol.

  But at night, when I’m alone and sweating in my bed, my body going through withdrawals, skin ashen, my right hand never losing the slight tremble, is when my downward spiral hits me the hardest. And for some inexplicable reason, today I crashed and burned. The craving for booze too hard to resist and the need to see her gorgeous face too much for me.

  I stopped and bought a bottle. That brown bag of whiskey sat sealed in my passenger seat until I hit the parking lot. I couldn’t handle it and cracked it open. The four swallows I took did nothing to quell the storm inside of me. The guilt burned my throat worse than those few sips. That was when I knew I couldn’t step foot in that bar to see the woman I’ll never be good enough for.

  I was sitting on the curb trying to talk myself into dumping out the bottle and going in to see her when I completely lost my mind. The darkness, being sober, and realizing how close I was to the alley made me feel like I was losing the little bit of control I’d gained all over again.

  The minute I saw Maria, I lost it and nearly told her why I’m as fucked up as I am.

  This magnetic woman has somehow gotten under my skin, and I’ve been a fool of many things, but I’d be an idiot to let her walk away from me without trying to show her who I really am.

  The chaos inside of me is nagging me to the bone over this connection I feel. As hard as I tried to stay away, there was no freeing her from my thoughts; unless I’m convinced she doesn’t feel it, too.

  And now, afte
r she’s worked her way around her kitchen making me breakfast for dinner, I sit in her girly apartment, her dog not leaving her side, wondering what in the hell to say.

  There’s no blocking out the prickling anger inside of me that boiled up when she mentioned Lexi. I saw the happiness hidden behind the sad she tried to conceal when I told her I didn’t have sex with her or her friend. To be honest, I can’t remember the last time I actually had sex; my memory loss should be more of a sign that I need help than the scars left from the talk with my dad or the punch from Aaron.

  The problem is, I’ve never had a woman tear me up and start to rebuild me all at the same damn time. Hell, I’ve never had to be rebuilt.

  But this girl, this beautiful creature with telling eyes, sees right through me. There’s no hidden bullshit when it comes to her. She says what she wants, and yet, by the way she’s watching me with those tell-me-no-lies eyes of hers, she’s waiting for me to tell her why I spoke so loosely about having demons.

  “Are you a student?” I tilt my head in the direction of the books on her table, deciding to talk about her instead. This craving to know everything about her has been driving me crazy.

  “I am. At Boise State. I transferred. This is my first semester. My aunt owns the bar, which makes missing home easier.” That explains what she’s doing here. “What about you, Alex? I understand your family owns our beloved Idaho Diamonds.”

  Fuck, her voice is like silk. “We do. Have you been stalking me, Maria?” I toss her remark from earlier out in the open. If she’s done her homework, then she knows everything there is to know about my family and me. I admit it doesn’t surprise me that she isn’t judging me in the least. Most women would shy away from me unless they had the hidden agenda called money or power. The thing about Maria is, she’s seen me at rock bottom. Hell, way below rock bottom.

  “You wish. I wouldn’t call it stalking. I’d say I was intrigued.” Her brow quirks in a defying challenge.

 

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