Addicted to Love

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Addicted to Love Page 12

by Deborah Cooke


  Lauren eyed the clock, debated the merit of going to bed, then opened the utensil drawer just to assess how bad it was.

  The bottle opener from Santa Cruz was on top.

  She took it out of the drawer with a reverence no one could have expected and set it on the counter alone. It was a no-brainer that she’d kept it as a souvenir.

  The memory was haunting her. It was nudging at her, insisting that she recall it.

  Lauren decided she might as well indulge in it, then discard it. She made herself a cup of decaf tea and sat down at the table with the tea and the bottle opener.

  That day.

  Lauren had gone to California for spring break on a whim. It wasn’t like her to be impulsive, but even at eighteen, she was sick of everyone being sure that they knew what she would do before she did. When she heard that Mandy and Grace were going to Santa Cruz, she’d practically begged to be invited along.

  The price was a tattoo. Mandy and Grace were both getting their first tattoo and Lauren had to agree to get hers, too. Mandy and Grace were popular and pretty, and she wanted to be like them badly enough that she agreed.

  She hadn’t even imagined how painful it would be.

  She’d realized the first day that she was never going to be like Mandy and Grace. Her ability to hold alcohol wasn’t nearly impressive enough. She wasn’t sufficiently fond of risk and she didn’t laugh nearly as loud. Guys were attracted to Mandy and Grace—in fact, they came out of the woodwork just to be near them—and mostly ignored Lauren. She had refused to join the mile-high club by doing a fellow passenger in the restroom on the plane, which had only earned their disdain.

  By the second day, she knew the vacation had been a huge mistake. She’d gotten very drunk the night before—even though they’d called her a cheap date—and gone out on the beach to neck with some guy. She hadn’t even been able to accomplish that right, because her period had come and once he’d guessed the truth, he’d fled. She didn’t remember his name and he almost certainly didn’t remember hers.

  She had sand where she didn’t think there should be sand, she had a raging hangover, she had cramps, and her tattoo was so sore that she was afraid it was infected. Mandy and Grace were sleeping too hard to have a look at it, and Lauren was pretty sure they’d laugh at her concern.

  She really was dull and predictable.

  She knew she should eat something. She trudged to the beach bar, because it was cheap and close by. She’d been thinking that there had to be a way to go home early, even with such a cheap flight.

  Then Kyle had turned to look at her.

  He’d smiled and beckoned to her.

  “Where are your friends?” he asked, and she shook her head. Of course, he was only interested in Mandy and Grace but the reminder did nothing for Lauren’s mood.

  “Still asleep.”

  “No wonder. How’s your head?”

  “You saw us last night?”

  He smiled. “No one missed your friends’ laughter.”

  “Well, if you’re interested in them, get in line.” Lauren might have turned away, but he stopped her with a fingertip on her forearm.

  “Get in line for what? I’m glad to see you alone.”

  “Don’t shit me,” she said with rare impatience. She didn’t usually swear but it felt good. “I’m tired and I’m sore and I’m hung over.” She met his gaze challengingly. “I have my period.”

  He held up his hands in surrender but didn’t leave. “I consider myself warned.”

  “I’ve spent a lot of money for a vacation that isn’t any fun, plus I’m going to be in huge trouble when I get home because I didn’t stay there and study.”

  “A rebellious moment then.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “And your first?”

  Lauren rubbed her brow, because she felt like a loser. “I’ve never done this before. No wonder I suck at it.”

  He laughed, which made his tan crinkle around his eyes and his eyes sparkle. “It’s not a given that you suck at anything the first time you try it.”

  “Maybe not for you.”

  “Maybe you just didn’t prep properly.”

  “Prep? For vacation?”

  “Well, sure. Vacation is a mindset as much as anything. You’ve got to be ready to have fun, not to frown at everyone else who’s having fun because you’re not.” He frowned and glared around the bar, so obviously trying to make her laugh that she almost did.

  Instead, she took a deep breath and tried to ease her frown.

  “Better,” he said and gave her an unopened bottle of water. “Drink that for your hangover. Simplest and best cure. I have no advice for the girl stuff.”

  “That’s reassuring.” He smiled as Lauren opened the bottle and took a long drink. It did help a bit. “Thanks. Do you live here?”

  “Used to. Now, I’m on a kind of vacation, too.”

  “Why only kind of?”

  He winced. “My mom’s getting married. Again. Escaping to the beach seems like a lot more fun.”

  She smiled, wondering what it was like to watch your mom marry someone other than your dad. She didn’t know what to say.

  “So, what’s sore?”

  “My tattoo.”

  His brows rose high, an indication that yet another person thought she was boring and predictable. “Another first?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I see it?”

  She glared at him.

  “If it’s sore because it’s infected, it’ll be swollen and red. I’m going to guess that it’s located somewhere you can’t check easily.”

  “You’d be right. I’m just not sure I want to show you.”

  His blue eyes sparkled. “Now I really want to see. Is it naughty?”

  His expectation was obviously that it couldn’t be.

  Lauren spun, wanting to surprise him, and lifted the hem of her shirt. She was wearing a one-piece swimsuit with a scooped back but it didn’t dip that low, and a loose shirt over top. She had to pull down the swimsuit to reveal her new tramp stamp. That was the point: no one was going to be able to see her tattoo.

  She could almost feel his surprise.

  “It’s holly.” He sounded incredulous.

  “Yes, it’s holly,” she agreed, knowing she sounded irritable.

  “Good thing it’s not mistletoe.”

  Lauren gasped and blushed. Mandy had been talking about rear-door action on the flight and Lauren couldn’t imagine doing that. Or wanting to. She pivoted to face the hunk in horror.

  Of course, he was grinning. “You could have been telling the world to kiss your ass.”

  She laughed despite herself and his smile widened. “That’s better.” He gave her shirt hem a tug. “It’s not infected, just new. Didn’t they warn you that it hurts more if you get ink where there’s not a lot of flesh over the bone?”

  “Maybe. I don’t remember. I was drunk.”

  “Alcohol and tattoo shops are a bad combination.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  “You’re full of surprises,” he said. “I won’t ask how you got sand in the adhesive of the wrap on the tattoo.” Lauren felt her cheeks burn. “Want a beer? Or a tequila?”

  “No. One tattoo is plenty, thanks.”

  “I don’t believe in hair of the dog, either.” He leaned toward her. “I’m going to have some fish tacos and a bottle of water, just so I don’t have to go home for lunch. Join me?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’d rather sit with a pretty girl than eat alone.” He lifted a brow in silent query.

  “I’m not that pretty.”

  “Trust me, you are. Grumpy, but that’s endearing for its novelty.”

  Lauren wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not. “What exactly are your expectations?”

  “That maybe you’ll talk to me while we eat, and maybe you’ll shed some of that prickly attitude, too. I’m being a helpful former local here, in the spirit of ensuring you have some fun b
efore you go home.”

  Lauren found herself blushing again. “What kind of fun?”

  “Whatever kind of fun works for you. Look, I’m starving. Yes or no?”

  “Okay. Thanks.” She followed him to a table. “Sorry. I’m not really on my game.”

  “Look at the bright side. You’ve got nowhere to go but up.” The way he said it, as if confident that her mood would pass, as if he was looking forward to it, made Lauren smile more than she had so far.

  He stared at her in astonishment for a moment. “Now I’m in trouble,” he murmured, his voice low with approval, then reached out and touched her cheek with a fingertip. His admiration was so clear that Lauren flushed crimson. “So, are you going to tell me why it’s holly?”

  “Because my birthday’s at Christmas. My grandma calls me her little holly berry.”

  “That’s sweet.” He winced. “Unless your name is really Holly or Berry. That would be very sad.”

  “No, it’s Lauren.”

  He feigned relief and she laughed. “Kyle,” he said offering his hand. His grip was warm and firm, and his gaze was direct. “Do you really want to rebel or are you looking to have fun?”

  “Are they mutually exclusive? I thought they went together.”

  “I have the most fun when I do something for the first time.”

  “That is not working for me.”

  “Not so far. How long have you been trying it?”

  “One day.”

  “In the interest of defending my perspective, let me try to fix that.”

  She eyed him with suspicion. “You’re being really nice to me. Why?”

  He leaned across the table. “It sucks to be on vacation with people who you have nothing in common with. I’ve been there and done that, but someone stepped in and saved my trip. Let me take a crack at saving your vacation, then you can pay it forward and one day do the same for someone else. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Lauren agreed. “I like that.”

  “It’s that whole random act of kindness thing.” He smiled again and looked wicked. “Don’t be offended when I admit that I chose you because I think you’re cute.”

  “No offense taken.” Lauren was uncertain whether he was complimenting her or not. What did he really want? “Define cute.”

  “Pretty but more than that,” he said immediately. “Everything about you isn’t on the surface. You’ve got secrets, or hidden depths, or something like that. I’m curious about you, because that’s totally different from how I am.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m all about honesty, about laying everything on the table.” He sobered and held her gaze steadily. “I never take anything that isn’t offered. I never promise anything I can’t deliver. And I never make plans for the future.” He lifted a brow and Lauren nodded understanding.

  “Got it.” So, he wasn’t hitting on her, not really. In a way, that was reassuring and in another, it was annoying. She felt safe in Kyle’s presence, which she liked, and his confession rang of truth. She liked that she could just relax with him and enjoy his company, without thinking of sexual innuendo.

  Well, she’d think of it, but he clearly wasn’t.

  Maybe that was easier.

  He pointed out to the ocean, where there was a couple of people hang-gliding. “Done that before?”

  “Never!”

  “Do you want to?”

  Lauren turned and watched. “It’s like flying.”

  “It is.” The tacos came and Kyle thanked the owner. “It’s pretty awesome, and the first time is the best of all.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the first time is when the experience is all new. The impression is stronger because of the novelty. After all, it’s just variations on a theme.”

  “Like sex,” she said, just to shake her good girl image.

  “Yes and no,” he said without missing a beat. “The first time you have sex with a specific person is always when it’s most potent. But sex in and of itself is like a new discovery with each partner.”

  Lauren understood that she’d been warned. “I’ll argue that,” she said, feeling bolder than usual. “It’s always pretty much the same and even the first time wasn’t that awesome.”

  Kyle put down his taco. “Then you aren’t doing it right.”

  “I haven’t had a lot of opportunity to do much of anything,” she said. “It kind of starts and then it’s over.”

  He raised a hand to his forehead, like he was going to need smelling salts. “Just give me a moment to weep for the injustice served upon you by my fellow men.”

  Lauren giggled. “You’ll get over it.”

  He spared her a very blue glance. “But will you? That’s the real question.”

  A little worried by the direction of the conversation, Lauren pointed to the hang-gliders. “How much does it cost?”

  “You do want to try it?”

  “I do.” Lauren grimaced. “But girl stuff.”

  Kyle held up a hand. “I solemnly promise to walk behind you, watch your back, and otherwise supply distractions or extra towels if there’s an incident.”

  “Sounds like an offer I can’t refuse. How much?”

  “My treat,” he said. “Today’s officially your lucky day.”

  “Because I met you?”

  “Exactly.” His confidence was infectious and Lauren found herself feeling better.

  Mandy and Grace came into the beach bar then, and their eyes widened when they saw who Lauren was sitting with. She waved to them, because she couldn’t ignore them, and Kyle glanced over his shoulder. He must have given them some kind of look because both were heading toward the table but simultaneously chose to change course and sit elsewhere.

  Kyle looked satisfied when he turned to face her and Lauren couldn’t help but smile. “I guess it is my lucky day,” she said. “Thanks, Kyle. I’d like to try that.”

  Their gazes locked for a hot moment, one that sent a shiver through Lauren, and she wondered just how many other things she would try for the first time with her new friend.

  Lauren turned the bottle opener in her hand, considering whether it should stay or go. She could taste the lime again and feel the sand between her toes, the ache of her new tattoo and the heat that Kyle’s smile sent through her veins.

  He’d opened her eyes to so many things, then and now.

  She didn’t want to forget that, or him.

  She put the bottle opener back in the drawer, smiling at the realization that she’d probably keep it forever.

  Six

  Of course, Damon left F5 on Friday night at the stroke of five.

  “Again with the early departure,” Kyle noted from the front desk. He was waiting there, specifically to give his partner a hard time. He was a little bit sore all over, which was no surprise given how hard he’d worked out over the course of the day, but it hadn’t improved his mood one bit.

  In fact, he was uncharacteristically annoyed with everything—and that made him even more irritable.

  He would not call Lauren.

  “I’m nothing if not predictable,” Damon agreed easily. “See you tomorrow?”

  “Not until the afternoon.”

  “My guy wants to party all the time,” Cassie sang as she came out of the back, swinging her purse onto her shoulder.

  “You, too?” Kyle asked in surprise.

  “Theo’s back,” she said easily. “And he said he was helping you in the club tonight. I thought I’d pretend to have a real life for a few hours.”

  “F5 is real life,” Kyle insisted.

  “Well, just a little teeny corner of it.”

  “A very good corner of it,” Theo said, joining them at the front desk.

  “Still jet-lagged?” Kyle asked.

  The other man shrugged. “Not so bad today.” He grinned and bumped shoulders with Kyle. “Maybe we’re getting older.”

  “Perish the thought.” Kyle cleared his throat. “‘Music, when soft voices die,
vibrates in the memory; Odours, when sweet violets sicken, live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, are heap'd for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.’”

  They all stared at him for a long, silent moment as Kyle wondered why that particular poem had jumped into his thoughts. He felt a flush rising on the back of his neck and busied himself with checking class bookings.

  “Isn’t that from a poem?” Cassie asked.

  Ty was striding toward the elevator, Amy right beside him. They were holding hands. “Percy Bysshe Shelley, 1792-1822.” He gave Kyle a look. “Look at you, acknowledging the power of love. Will wonders never cease?”

  “Sounds uncharacteristic,” Cassie said, surveying Kyle. “You feeling okay?”

  “He has been cranky today,” Damon said, hefting his messenger bag.

  “Maybe he has his period,” Cassie teased and they all laughed. Ty waved and got on the elevator to go up to his penthouse.

  “Because I knew I’d be left with the work tonight,” Kyle countered.

  “The club is your brainchild and your favorite job in the entire world,” Cassie reminded him. “Beautiful women. Dancing. The hum of sexual energy.” She yawned. “Seriously, Kyle, it’s like a visit to your personal fantasy land. We should call it Kyle’s Place. We leave it to you on purpose, not wanting to trespass on your paradise.”

  Theo snorted.

  “And what would you even do on a Friday night?” Damon continued. “You’d probably come to the F5 club.”

  “Moth to the flame,” Cassie agreed.

  Damon continued with a nod. “So why not let us have a night off while you do what you do so well?”

  “I still think it’s unfair,” Kyle replied, even as he acknowledged the truth in the words. What would he do on a Friday night off?

  Call Lauren.

  No, no, no. He wasn’t going there.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Theo teased.

  “Fine, just over-worked,” Kyle replied, wishing he hadn’t quoted that poem. He was definitely off his game.

  Damon laughed and waved, then left for the day. There was no doubting that there was a bounce of anticipation to his step.

 

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