Finding Focus

by Jiffy Kate

  All of them have been replaceable.

  All of them, except the one I haven’t even been with. I just can’t seem to get her out of my mind. But I don’t want to. I don’t even try.

  “I guess I’ll deliver these next two orders and see who’s callin’.”

  “Go get ‘em, Tiger,” Deacon jokes without looking up from the pocket he’s assembling.

  Walking out into the main part of the restaurant, I instantly see who Jamie was talking about. It’s been a long time, but I’d know those legs anywhere—the screamer.

  “Hey, Alex,” I say smoothly as I walk past her.

  I set the two plates down in front of the customers sitting closest to the stage and ask, “Is there anything else I can get for ya?”

  When they tell me everything looks good, I turn my attention back to the table behind them.

  “What brings you around?” I ask. I haven’t seen her legs in a very long time. Or her face, for that matter.

  “Oh, you know, I was in the area and couldn’t pass up a visit to my favorite restaurant.” She bats her eyes, tossing her bleached-blonde hair over her shoulder. “The place seems to be doing well, Micah. You must be proud.”

  “Yeah, we’re not doin’ too shabby.”

  “How’s everything else?” she asks, but what she really wants to know is whether I’m still available—still up for a good time.

  I think the universe knew just what I needed to get out of my funk. A quick fuck with an old friend, for old time’s sake. No strings attached. No guilt. No “call me later”. I know exactly what to expect with Alex, and that’s comforting in a weird way.

  “Good.”

  She looks at me for longer than necessary, letting her eyes take in everything from my scuffed up boots to my messy hair. “So, you feel like gettin’ together later?”

  “Sure.”

  As soon as the word is out of my mouth, I want to take it back.

  When she runs a finger down my arm and then casually over to the waist of my jeans, my dick stirs, reminding me of why I’m agreeing to this. I swallow thickly, trying to get my head in check.

  She stands from the booth and leans in until her lips are practically touching my ear. “I was hopin’ you’d say that.”

  Images of red hair and green eyes flood my mind.

  What would Dani think about this?

  Would she care?

  No. No, of course not.

  That’s stupid. She has Graham. We’re just friends.

  I grimace, feeling guilty, but not knowing why.

  “You know where to find me,” I tell her, forcing a smile onto my face.

  “I’ll be back around closin’ time.”

  I nod and smirk before turning around and practically running back to the kitchen.

  I do not know what’s come over me. It’s like there’s a war going on inside me. My heart and my head are ganging up against my dick, but I have no idea who’s going to win.

  The feeling in my gut kinda resembles having bad tacos or driving past a bad wreck, but since I haven’t done either of those, I’m having a hard time understanding it all.

  For the next two hours, I keep myself busy in the kitchen and force my head and heart to give my dick a break. He’s lonely, for fuck’s sake. Surely they can understand that.

  Later that night, after everyone has left, even Deacon, I’m sweeping under the tables near the bar when someone taps lightly on the front door. I don’t even have to look up to know who it is. Stepping up to the door to unlock it, I open it so she can walk inside. Her perfume is assaulting, and I find myself holding my breath when she gets too close.

  “Hey,” she says, invading my space and pressing her tits against my chest. Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are glazed over. She’s definitely tipsy. I can smell the alcohol on her breath.

  Tequila, if I had to guess.

  Fuck.

  Once again, I’m at war with myself. Standing here, staring at her, knowing she’s very capable and willing, I’m having a hard time saying no. But, on the other hand, the sick feeling I had earlier is back in full force.

  Alex flattens her hands against my chest. “You’ve filled out.”

  “The last time we were together, I was still wet behind the ears.” A hint of nostalgia washes over me and I allow myself to really look at her. Her tits are bigger, hips are fuller . . . she’s filled out too.

  “Oh, but you were so very talented, even then. I’m really looking forward to what else time has improved.” She licks her bottom lip and her eyes drop to my dick. “Are we doing this here?” she asks, looking around, confirming exactly why she’s here.

  She’s a sure thing. She always has been.

  “How about we go back to my office?”

  “Much better.”

  I let her walk in front of me and I take in her ass as we make our way down the hall and to my office. When we walk in, she turns on me. “Off,” she commands, pointing to my jeans. The second my hand goes to the first button on my jeans, the voices in my head get louder. Before I get them completely unbuttoned, there’s a full-on war raging between my head and my dick. When she sees me hesitate, she takes over for me, making fast work of the last two buttons. They’re half-way down my ass before I realize this isn’t what I want.

  “I can’t do this,” I say breathlessly. My heart is beating so fast I feel like I just ran a fucking marathon.

  “What?” The look on her face is confusion and disbelief.

  “I-I can’t do this,” I tell her again, a bit more calmly this time, because she’s no longer touching me.

  “What the fuck, Micah?”

  “I-I’m seeing someone,” I stutter, completely making this shit up as I go. “She doesn’t live here, but I’m seeing someone, and I know we’ve done shit in the past, but I can’t anymore. I’m sorry I led you to believe otherwise,” I finish, knowing it sounds like a line of bullshit, but it’s the only thing I could think of.

  “I don’t believe you. Micah Landry doesn’t do relationships.”

  “Well, I didn’t used to, but I do now.”

  “So, you’re really seeing someone?” she asks, still skeptical.

  “We’re not technically official.” Fuck. We’re not anything. “But I want us to be, and I obviously can’t do that if I fuck it up by fucking you.”

  What the hell am I saying?

  She smirks, her surprised expression morphing into something else. “Well, she must be pretty damn special.”

  “She is.”

  I want to roll my eyes and call myself out on my own bullshit. Dani isn’t mine, and she may never be. But my heart wants to believe what my mouth just said.

  Alex fixes her skirt and looks in the mirror on my office wall to check her makeup. “Well, I’m sorry this,” she waves a hand toward my dick, “didn’t work out, but I’m happy for you.”

  I walk her to the front door of the restaurant and watch her walk to her car. Turning off the house lights, I quickly make my way out the back door to my truck. The need to take a shower is so overwhelming, I can’t get home fast enough.

  But what I need even more is a thousand miles away.

  I pull out my phone before turning onto the main road.

  Me: Hey, Chuck. You awake?

  I wait a second, hoping she responds quickly, but she doesn’t. Looking at the clock on the dash of my truck, I see it’s after midnight, which means it’s after one there, so I pull out onto the road and head home.

  After I shower and almost scrub my skin raw, I put on a pair of pajama pants and throw myself onto my bed. When my phone rings beside me, I don’t even bother looking at the screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Micah Landry.” Val’s sugary-sweet voice comes through the speaker.

  Fuck! I want to scream. She’s the last damn person I want to talk to right now.

  “Val.”

  “Are you busy?”

  I know where this is heading. It’s always the same questions. Am I
busy? Can I do her a favor?

  “Micah?”

  “Yeah?”

  “So?”

  “I’m not busy, Val, but I just got in from a really long day and I’m exhausted,” I tell her, and it’s the God’s honest truth.

  “Well, I know just what would make you feel better.” Her voice dips, changes to sultry and seductive. It has worked in the past, but not anymore.

  “I can’t.”

  “How about I come out there?”

  “No.” The word comes out a little too forceful, but I can’t help it. I don’t want to see Val, and I especially don’t want her at my house.

  “What’s wrong with you, Micah?” she asks, acid lacing her words. She’s been changing lately, becoming clingier and clingier. Val and I have always had a firm agreement—no strings attached.

  “You’ve been blowing me off for the last month,” she says, followed by a frustrated huff.

  It’s true. I have.

  “I think it’s time for us to go our separate ways, Val.”

  “Why?” she asks with a pout in her voice.

  I pull at my hair, frustrated and exhausted. “This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. You’ve always known what we had was just fun. But lately, you’ve been taking things more seriously.” I pause, trying to find the right words—trying to let her down easy and not break her heart. “I don’t want to hurt you, Val.”

  “I’m not getting attached,” she says, indignant.

  She sniffles into the phone and I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet. Maybe I’m reading her wrong? But I don’t think I am. Besides, I know Val isn’t who I want.

  “I know you’re going to hate hearing this, Val, but I’m going to be truthful with you.” I take a deep breath and prepare to bare my soul to her, hoping it doesn’t come back to haunt me. “We’ve been friends a long time, right?”

  “Yeah,” she says quietly.

  “Friends long before we were anything else?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And I’ve always told you I don’t want to be tied down. I’m having a good time and I don’t want to be in a committed relationship.”

  “I know. I don’t want that either.”

  “You say that, Val, but I know you want more. You might be fighting it, just like I am, but it’s there. You practically pissed all over my leg when Dani was here. And what about last week when you went off on Jamie for talkin’ to me at the restaurant?”

  “She’s a whore.” I snicker into the phone. She’s kinda right. Jamie has been around the block a time or two. “She doesn’t deserve to touch you.”

  “See, but that’s the thing, you don’t have any claim to me.”

  I can literally hear the breath leaving her, the gasp audible over the phone. “I didn’t mean to get attached,” she whispers. “I never meant to want more.”

  “We don’t have control over those things. One of these days, you’re gonna find someone who loves you more than anyone else on this planet. You deserve that, Val.”

  She sniffles again and I continue to feel like shit, but I also feel like there’s a weight lifting off my chest.

  “I always thought that might be you.”

  Her words cut me to my soul, and I kinda want to cry right now, too. I’m breaking her heart and I never meant to do that.

  “I never meant to hurt you.”

  “I know.”

  “You gonna be all right?”

  “Yeah.” She takes a deep breath in and lets it out. “I am.” A few seconds of silence go by before she speaks again. “Thanks for being honest with me.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ll see ya around.”

  “Yeah, see ya around.”

  I toss my phone to the nightstand, roll over, and hug my pillow, wishing it had red hair and green eyes. The vibration from my nightstand startles me. I rub sleep from my bleary eyes and look at the alarm clock: 1:37.

  Dani: You still up?

  Me: I am now.

  Dani: Sorry I woke you. Pretend I didn’t send this. Go back to sleep.

  I laugh. She’s so damn cute.

  Me: I don’t want to. I want to talk to you.

  Dani: Good because I can’t sleep. What do you want to talk about?

  Me: Anything. Everything.

  I know that sounds vague, but it’s the truth. I want to know everything about Sheridan Reed. Come to think of it . . .

  Me: What’s your middle name?

  Dani: Paige. I was named after my grandmother. It was her maiden name. Lillian Opal Paige.

  Me: I like it.

  “Sheridan Paige Reed,” I whisper, allowing her name to roll effortlessly off my tongue. I really like it.

  Micah

  205–739–0005: What are your intentions with my best friend?

  I STARE AT MY PHONE, trying to process this early morning text message. Who it’s from finally dawns on me and I snicker as I type out my response.

  Me: Who are you? And what the hell are you talking about?

  Before she has a chance to respond, I swipe my finger across the “add new contact” button on my phone and add her in. Piper—The Best Friend.

  Piper: Don’t mess with me, Micah Landry. I can be your closest ally or your worst enemy.

  I scrub my face with my free hand, chuckling to myself.

  Me: Are you always this hostile in the morning?

  Piper: It’s nearly 10:00. That’s barely considered morning.

  Me: Not when you don’t go to bed until 3:00 AM.

  Piper: And just what were you doing at 3:00 AM? This is exactly why I need to know your intentions with my best friend. She’s been dicked around enough in her life.

  I already love her. She’s obviously fiercely protective of a girl I care a lot about and she used “dicked around” in a sentence.

  Me: For your information, I had to close down my restaurant by myself last night, and then I was texting YOUR best friend until she fell asleep on me. And I don’t have any “intentions”. We’re friends. She makes me laugh. We have a lot in common.

  Piper: Hmmmm. That’s bizarrely similar to the answer I got from her when I asked about you. Did you kiss her?

  Me: First, I don’t kiss and tell.

  I pause, not sure what my second is, but I’ve already sent the text, and you can’t have a first without a second.

  Me: Second, I don’t kiss and tell.

  Piper: Do you want to kiss her?

  Me: She has a boyfriend.

  Piper: You didn’t answer my question.

  Me: Yes, I did. Sometimes, you have to read between the lines.

  Piper: Touché. That was kinda deep for just waking up.

  Me: I’m not just a pretty face.

  Piper: I’ll have to be the judge of that.

  Me: Am I still on trial?

  Piper: Yes, until I give further notice. Also, I tried stalking you on Facebook, and the only Micah Landry I could find was bald and gay. I’m assuming that wasn’t you?

  I laugh out loud. Who admits to stalking people on Facebook?

  Me: No, definitely not bald. And definitely not gay.

  Piper: Why don’t you have a Facebook page? Everyone has a Facebook page.

  Me: I don’t have time for one, and I don’t want people stalking me. ;)

  Piper: Well, you know what this means, right?

  Me: No. What?

  Piper: I’ll have to stalk you in person.

  Me: Should I go ahead and file the restraining order?

  Piper: Won’t stop me. Good day, Micah Landry.

  Me: Good day.

  What the fuck was that?

  I have a feeling Piper is a force to be reckoned with. I’m looking forward to meeting her. And maybe a little scared.

  Me: Should I be worried about Piper?

  Dani: Oh, no. What did she do?

  Me: Apparently, since she can’t stalk me on Facebook, she’s going to stalk me in person. I’m kinda scared.

  Dani: God! She�
�s such a nosy bitch. I told her to leave things alone. I’m sorry. And don’t worry. She’s all bark and no bite. Well, unless you try to come between her and her pizza. You might lose a finger.

  Me: Good to know.

  Me: 20 questions. Rapid-fire. You start.

  Dani: Favorite movie?

  Me: Die Hard. Favorite song?

  Dani: The Climb by Miley Cyrus. Favorite color?

  Me: Red. Favorite holiday?

  Dani: Halloween. Favorite Pocket?

  Me: Fried oyster. Favorite sport?

  Dani: Football, duh. Favorite childhood memory?

  Me: The time Deacon shot me in the chest with a BB gun and I pretended I was dying.

  Dani: You’re an awful person, Micah Landry.

  Me: Hey, I didn’t comment on your piss-poor taste in music!

  Dani: Ignoring that. How old were you when Deacon shot you?

  Me: I was eight, and he was ten. Not gonna lie, it stung like a sonofabitch, but it was worth it to see my big brother crying like a baby to our parents.

  Dani: Did you ever tell him you were faking?

  Me: Oh, yeah. It was pretty obvious when there was nothing but a pink dot on my chest. He was pissed at me for a while, but believe me, he’s gotten his revenge since then.

  Dani: Do tell.

  Me: That’s a story for another day.

  Sheridan

  Me: I want the other story.

  I’M IN A LONG LINE at the pharmacy, waiting on Graham’s prescriptions. They told me over the phone they’d be ready, but when I got here, the guy at the window said they were running behind and I’d need to take a number.

  Graham is finally out of his immobilization cast and has started more intense physical therapy on his leg, but with that comes added inflammation and pain. The good news is his mobility is coming back and he’s improving every day. He no longer has any casts and all of the bruising is gone. At this pace, he’ll be back to work and out of my apartment in no time.

  A few minutes go by before my phone dings.

  Micah: What other story?

  Me: Deacon’s Revenge.

  I smile as I type. It sounds like the title of a very intense, serious novel, and I know Micah’s response will be anything but. Anything involving him and Deacon, especially when they were kids, deserves to be in a sitcom.