"Did she tell you she has a boyfriend? Have you actually met him?" she asks, scrunching her brows.
Shit.
"Well, no—" I answer slowly, contemplating the possibility that I've completely misread every fucking thing that has happened. No way.
"Then how do you know she has a boyfriend?"
I've had enough. Tossing my burger onto my tray, I glare at Avery. "This conversation is over. I don't want to talk about Harley, and I don't need you telling me how to—“
"Whoa!" she says, cutting me off. I snap my mouth shut, pissed that she interrupted. "Listen, I'm sorry I upset you. That wasn't my intention." Her voice softens, and she rests her joined hands on the table. "But I'm a woman, and I think you've got this all wrong."
I don't have this all wrong, but right now I'm so damn tired of thinking about Max that I just need her to finish what she wants to say so I can get the hell out of here. "Fine. I'm listening. Then we’re done talking about this."
She nods her head, a small grin playing at her lips. "If this Harley is as wonderful as you say she is—and you're an incredible person, so I'm sure she is—then there is no way she would ever cheat on her boyfriend. Therefore, if she tried to kiss you last night, then I'm about ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain that she doesn't have a boyfriend. So you need to pull your head out of your ass and get your girl before someone else realizes how amazing she is and snags her up!"
With that, Avery stands and tosses her plate in the trash. She walks to the door and then turns back to me. "And do me a favor, when you do get the girl...grovel like hell for pulling away from her last night, because I can't even imagine all the insecurities that must have caused."
Fuck. The look of embarrassment that washed over Harley's face last night pops into my head and I rub my hands over my face roughly, trying to get that image out of my mind.
What if Avery is right? What if Harley doesn't have a boyfriend and I was wrong? That would I've been wasting my time and worrying for no reason. All I know is that this has to end. I either need to know she's single and beg her to give me another chance, or I need to meet Max and see for myself that I really did fuck things up five years ago.
Tomorrow. I'm going to get through this shift and then this ends tomorrow.
"THANK GOD THIS DAY is over." Grabbing my stethoscope, I drop it in the bag with my scrubs. I always bring a change of clothes to change into before I go home. Tossing my bag on the table, I walk over to the coffee pot. It’s way too late in the evening for me to be drinking coffee, but I need something.
"I know, right?!" Avery says, shedding her lab coat. She looks completely exhausted and her eyes are still mildly puffy as though she’s been crying off and on throughout the day.
"You okay?" I ask, handing her a cup of coffee.
She grabs the mug and takes a few sips, her eyes trained downward. "I will be. It's just been a shit day and I really don't want to go home, and...hey—" She looks at me hopefully. "You wanna go grab a drink somewhere?"
Fuck. No. All I really want to do is go home and crash. Looking down at my watch, I see that it's ten o'clock. It's been a long day and I'm exhausted, but I can tell that Avery doesn't want to go home, probably because she'll spend the rest of the night thinking about that family.
"Sure," I answer. "Let's go have a drink."
"Great. Thank you," she sighs, patting my arm as she walks past me to drop her cup in the sink.
"But just one," I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket. "My friend, Levi, owns a bar a few blocks away. Let me call him and see if they're out."
I hit ‘send’ and Levi answers almost immediately.
"Hey! I was seeing if you were going to be at Blue tonight. I was thinking about coming out for a drink or two," I reply.
"I'm actually here now, you should come on up," he answers.
"Great. I'm just getting off my shift, and it’s been one hell of a day. Avery had an even worse day than I did, so I told her I would have a drink with her. Plus, she's been wanting to meet some people from around this area anyway." Avery smiles at me, mouthing that she is going to the bathroom to change before we leave, and I nod.
The line goes silent and for a second I wonder if the call was dropped, but then Levi starts talking again. "Ummm...are you sure that's a good idea?" he asks quietly, as though he's trying to avoid anyone overhearing him.
What the hell? "Why wouldn't it be a good idea? We're just friends. We work together, and she had a shitty day and asked if I'd go have a drink with her. Is that not okay?" I ask sharply.
"Yeah, you're right. It’s fine," he sighs.
"Okay. Good. You're really going to like her. We'll see you soon."
"Alright, man, see you soon," he says, ending the call. Slipping my phone in my pocket, I can't help but feel like something is off. I'm not sure what it is, but I have this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach that something unpleasant is about to happen.
"Are we all set? Is your friend at his bar?" Avery asks, pulling her bag up over her shoulder.
"All set." Reaching out, I open the door for her, shoving the uneasy feeling away, intent on getting Avery's mind off of what happened today. One drink, that’s it. Then, I'm getting a good night’s sleep and tomorrow I'm going to talk to Harley.
We decide to leave our cars and walk since it's only a couple of blocks. It's beautiful out this time of year. There's a light, cool breeze and I take a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air and being away from the hospital and this shitty-ass day.
"Wow!" she gasps when we walk in the door, her hand gripped to her chest and her eyes taking in her surroundings. "This place is fantastic." Levi's bar really is spectacular, even more so when the dance floor is littered with gorgeous people grinding their sexy-as-hell bodies together in rhythm with the music, like it is tonight.
I glance up to the third level, but I can't see Levi—it's too packed in here. Placing my hand at the small of Avery's back, I lead her to the bar, where a seat just opened up and I motion for her to take it. We order our drinks and when they're handed to us, I turn to face her, propping my elbow up on the bar. She tips her beer back, practically chugging half the bottle.
"God, that's good," she sighs, slamming her bottle down on the bar, eliciting the attention of a few nearby patrons. "I need about ten more and I think I'll be set."
I turn toward the bar, intent on ordering Avery another drink, and find myself face-to-face with a familiar set of blue eyes.
"We meet again."
"Blaire," I state with a smile. She grins at me, probably happy that I remembered her name. "I thought you were a hostess?" I ask, leaning forward on the bar.
A mischievous look spreads across her beautiful face and she leans her elbows on the bar, completely ignoring the other patrons who are trying to order drinks. "I do hostess. I also bartend, and sometimes when I need extra money, I let Levi put me in one of those things." She nods her head in the direction of the hanging cages, but I don't have to follow her gaze—I already know what she's talking about. "In fact, I’ll bet there are a lot of things that you don't kn—"
"I said, excuse me!" Blaire's eyes harden and she turns her gaze to Avery. Her brows furrow slightly, a look of confusion flashing across her face at the sight of the woman sitting next to me. Avery blatantly rests her hand on my forearm, giving it a light squeeze as she looks at me adoringly, attempting to flutter her eyelashes.
It takes everything I have not to bust up laughing at the look on her face, but I manage to succeed.
What the hell is she doing?
Blaire's eyes follow Avery's hand, and then they bounce from me to Avery a couple of times before she blinks. She nods her head once, looking like she understands something...I'm just not sure what.
"What can I get you, Mr. Grawe?" Yup, I've still got it. I smile smugly to myself, completely oblivious to whatever the hell just happened. Blaire remembered my name. And I'm not going to lie, the fact that she called me Mr. Grawe instead of Tyson was rea
lly fucking hot. Only now, Blaire's eyes aren't soft like they were before. They're not hard either; it's more a look of...indifference?
Avery slides her free hand along my back and wraps her arm around my waist, her other hand still resting on my arm. I stare at her in amusement as she pins Blaire with a hard look and answers before I have a chance.
"Sweetie," she says, dragging her eyes back to me. "Do you want another beer?" I can't help the laugh that slips from my mouth as I nod my head in agreement.
Blaire turns around without a second glance, grabs us each another beer, and then slides them across the bar. As soon as Blaire turns to the line of customers waiting to order their drinks, Avery removes her arm from around my waist and leans back in her chair with an arrogant look on her face.
"What the hell was that?" I laugh, taking a swig of my beer.
She cocks her head to the side, winks, and tips her beer in my direction. "You're welcome."
"For what?"
She looks confused. What the hell is she confused about? "For what?" she asks, sitting forward in her chair. "For saving your ass!"
"Okay. I'm totally lost." Setting my beer on the bar, I face Avery, my arms crossed in front of me. Her eyes wander from my face, across my chest, and down to where the fabric is stretched tight around my arms, and I can't help but smile. Women."Either the first bartender spiked your beer with something, or you've just totally gone insane." Her eyes snap to mine and she has the nerve to look at me like I'm the one that's crazy. "Okay, let me spell this out for you." She crosses her legs and sets her beer on the bar. Turning toward me, she raises her hands as she starts to tick off what I did wrong. "All I've heard you talk about for the past week is Harley—Harley this and Harley that—and then you're telling me that she tried to kiss you but you didn't let her...which I still think was a huge mistake on your part. Anyway," she waves her hands in the air as though she got off track, "so now you come here and start flirting with the first hot little number you see. I'm not going to lie, Ty, I'm really disappointed. I expected more out of you."
Okay, now I'm mad. "First of all...I know Blaire. We met last time I was here. Second, it's none of your damn business who I flirt with, and it certainly isn't your place to step in and pretend that we’re 'together' so that she would stop flirting."
"You're right," she snaps. "It's not my place, but I probably just saved your ass from fucking that," she points to the end of the bar, "up."
I turn around to see what she's pointing at and my eyes instantly find Harley, who is looking straight at me. I can't help but smile at the sight of her—that's just how she makes me feel—and goddamn it's good to see her beautiful face. Wait...she’s not smiling back, and are those—
"Wait! Where are you going?" Avery asks, grabbing my arm when I start to walk away.
I look down at her hand on my arm and then back at her. No one is going to keep me from going to Harley. "That's Harley, and she looks like she's about to cry so if you'll please let go of my arm..." I'm trying to keep my cool with Avery, but I'm still sort of confused about everything that just happened and now she's trying to stop me from—
"Because of you!" Her voice and eyes harden, but she lets go of my arm. "She's probably crying because of you." She rolls her eyes and takes a drink of her beer. "Good God, men are stupid," she mumbles around the bottle.
"Me? How in the hell did I make her cry? I didn't even know she was here until you pointed her out. Wait a minute, how did you know that was Harley?" I ask. "You told me you guys have never met."
"We haven't. But I recognize her from the hospital. She was sitting there watching us, and then when you started flirting with Blaire, her eyes got really sad. I just put two and two together. Plus, I'm a woman...I know these things."
She was...she saw...I whip back around, intent on finding Harley, but she isn't there. My eyes scan the room, but there are too many people.
"I wasn't flirting with Blaire. I was just being nice and—" Avery cocks her eyebrow, giving me a classic you're-full-of-shit look. "What? I wasn't flirting. She might've been, but I wasn't," I defend, poking myself in the chest.
Avery nods in understanding. "You're right, but a couple more seconds and you would have. And…" She drags the word out, preventing me from butting in. "Harley doesn't know that! All Harley knows is that last night she tried to kiss you and you rejected—"
"I didn't reject her!"
"Yes, you did," she says, matter-of-fact. "She tried to kiss you, you rejected her, and now she finds you here at the bar, which is totally my fault," she mumbles the last part absently before continuing. "She was probably excited to see you until she saw Blaire practically shoving her very large, very fake rack in your face."
Fuck. I screwed up—again. I've got to find her.
"That's why I played the doting girlfriend," she says, making another attempt to flutter her eyelashes at me. "I was trying to stop the trainwreck before it happened. So I'm sorry if I upset you, but I saw Harley watching you and I felt like I needed to stop Blaire...and you, before it went any further."
"It wasn't going to go any further. I told you, I don't like Blaire like that." Jesus Christ! What is the big fucking deal? So a girl was flirting with me and I didn't stop her, who cares?
"And I'm really glad to hear that. But if you don't like her like that, then what was up with the whole leaning-on-the-bar, flirty voice act?"
"What do you expect me to do, Avery? Harley. Has. A. Boyfriend," I yell, instantly feeling bad for raising my voice at her. I know this isn't her fault, but I'm pissed that she's making me feel like I did something wrong. I didn't sleep with Blaire, for fuck’s sake...I didn't even touch her.
"You're wrong," she says calmly. Tipping her head back, she finishes her beer, sets it on the bar, and slides off the stool.
"Where the hell are you going?"
Avery glares at me and I snap my mouth shut. No need to piss off another woman. She starts to walk away and then turns around briefly. "I'm going to try and fix your mess."
Great. This is just great.
"ENOUGH! ENOUGH, ENOUGH, ENOUGH!" Quinn weasels her way between Levi and me, grabbing onto my hand. "I love you both and you're both hot as hell, and it's sexy watching you dance, but I need my girl back." Quinn starts yanking me off the dance floor and I turn to look at Levi, but he already has another girl wrapped in his arms. I smile warmly…he needs that. He winks once and then spins the lucky girl in the opposite direction.
I've had several more drinks and a few shots so my mind is a bit foggy, but it feels good to let loose. "Quinn. Slow down. I can't keep up with your ostrich legs!" A small laugh leaves my lips and I stumble, ramming into Quinn's back when she stops in her tracks.
She turns to look at me with a huge smile on her face. "Did you just call me an ostrich?" she asks.
I furrow my brow. "Uhhhh…no?"
She shakes her head and laughs. Turning around, she pulls my hand and starts dragging me behind her again. "You're drunk and I LOVE IT!" she sings over the music as we step up to the bar.
"No." I shake my head swiftly. "No more drinks. I need to function tomorrow."
"Pfffff." She waves her hand, dismissing my protest. "But you're right, no more drinks." Oh God. She doesn't give up that easy. What the hell is sh—
"Yo, Mike!" The sexy, tatted-up bartender looks our way and tips his chin. What the hell is up with that? Why do guys tip their chin? It’s official…I don't like the 'chin tip.’ "I need two Tijuana Hookers. PRONTO!" My eyes widen and my head, along with every other head at the bar, spins in Quinn's direction.
"What the hell is a Tijuana Hooker? I don't want a Tijuana Hooker. What's in a Tijuana Hooker?" I rapid-fire questions at her.
"You'll love it! Trust me," she says dismissively.
"Seriously, Quinn, when I said 'no more drinks,' I didn't mean let's do shots."
"Lighten up, tight-ass," she quips, smacking me hard on the butt and then rubbing the sting. I swat her hand away and she laugh
s. Mr. Tatted and Sexy—yup, I named him too—slides four shot glasses in front of us. Wait a minute. Didn't she order two shots? Leaning forward, I peek in the glasses and sniff.
"What. The. Fuck. Is that pickle juice? You're out of your ever-lovin’ mind if you think I'm going to—" Quinn covers my mouth with her hand and I resist the urge to lick it. Who cares if I'm twenty-seven, it would still be funny as shit!
Leaning in close, she whispers in my ear. "Listen. You know I have no problem making a scene. In fact, I've already got the attention of almost every man at this bar. So you have two choices. One, you take the shot of tequila and chase it with your pickle juice." I try to make a disgusted face, but her hand prevents my nose from crinkling. "Or two, I'm going to kiss you in front of all of these men." She wouldn't, would she? Oh shit, she totally would!
"Nod once if you understand." I nod once. Lord knows I don't want to piss off a woman who wants to drink a Tijuana Hooker. Seriously, where the hell does she come up with this shit? "Blink once for the first choice or twice for the second." She sits back, her hand clamped tightly around my mouth and winks at the guy sitting next to me. I turn my head slightly and see him smiling suggestively at the two of us. Creeper.
Well, shit. I don't want tequila with pickle juice, but Quinn knows I would shit a brick if she actually kissed me in front of all these people. I blink once.
"Damn. I was kinda hoping you'd pick number two." She grins, removing her hand from my mouth.
"You were?" She must be wasted. Quinn loves men more than anyone I know.
"Nah…I only offered the second choice because I knew you wouldn't take it. But you should've seen your face—priceless," she says, letting out a deep throaty laugh. She slides me two shot glasses before lifting her own shot of tequila. I follow suit and we tap glasses and drink. HOLY SHIT, that burns! Reaching for my shot of pickle juice, I throw my head back. HOLY SHIT…hey, that's good. Like really good!
Where We Belong Page 15
