As we make our way outside, I’m still trying to wrap my head around this chain of events. When did it get so out of control? I’m still trying to come up with a plan to break up their date when Mason says, “We’re trying El Diablo downtown.”
“I’ve heard of that place.” I snap my fingers, my gaze never leaving Emma, who sneaks glances toward me. “Heard it was good too.”
Tarryn gets out of her car and spots us immediately. “Hey guys.” Waving, she walks toward us, her eyes on me. Her hips sway more than necessary as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s messy with her hair out of place. Not like Emma, who even after three classes of yoga today still has every hair in place and all sweat gone. “Ty, what’re you up to?”
I look from Emma to Tarryn to Mason, whose hand is still on Emma’s lower back. Grinding my teeth, an idea occurs to me. “We were talking about dinner tonight. You and I should totally join these two. You like Mexican, right?” I flash my smile in Tarryn’s direction, who visibly and pathetically swoons like I just asked her on a trip to Paris.
“Sure. I’d love to,” Tarryn beams.
Then I turn to Emma and Mason, who both tense. “You guys don’t mind, do you? I don’t live here, so I love trying out all the good restaurants and haven’t tried this one yet.”
Emma steps forward. “This is a date, so no offense—”
“A double date!” I say, then clap Mason on the back. “Did you say seven, big guy?”
Mason stumbles. “Yes. Seven… double date.”
“It’s settled, then.” I open my arms wide and force myself to contain my satisfaction at Emma’s fuming expression—her eye noticeably twitches. “Tarryn and I will meet you there.” I kiss her on the cheek and walk toward my car, almost feeling guilty for stringing Tarryn along.
But she knows what this is between us. We talked a lot about her grief the one time we hung out. I only offered her a shoulder to lean on and nothing more.
Right now, she’s still in the acting out phase, something I know all too well. Sooner or later, her fascination with me will subside as her pain from the last few months slowly settles. She’ll snap out of it and realize she doesn’t really want me.
Until then, I’ll be her friend, and a night out will be fun for her.
And me, with Emma across the table, outside of her work or apartment where I’m only there because of Sebastian.
My phone vibrates several times on my way to Sebastian’s. I sometimes crash there while I’m in town. He’s usually working late, anyway. Or he goes to Kendall’s when I’m there. Doesn’t like to bring his girl over when his stripper friend is staying there, especially since I tend to walk around sans-shirt.
I pull up to his apartment and retrieve my phone from my pocket. I know it’s Emma before I check it. And sure enough, I have four new messages from her.
Emma: YOU WILL WAKE UP WITH NO EYEBROWS TOMORROW.
Emma: What were you thinking?
Emma: Are you high? Please tell me you’re fucking high and crazy, and I won’t come to Sebastian’s and cut you while shaving off your eyebrows.
Emma: Seriously, what game are you playing? This is my life, Ty. I have to be here when I wake up tomorrow. I can’t gallivant off to Vegas or Miami or Seattle like SOME people.
I scratch my chin, glad I affect her this much. Enough for her to text me more in thirty seconds than she has all day.
But her last message makes my stomach churn. Does it bother her that I travel a lot? Is that why she’s going on a date with a jackass?
More importantly, I’m stunned I care. It’s not like I want a relationship with her. I’m incapable of having a real relationship with anyone. That’s why I’ve never had one.
I don’t do real feelings. No commitments. No more than a few nights with the same woman.
Naomi is the perfect example of what I’m capable of—drowning out my affliction for a few nights before moving on.
But that doesn’t stop me from wanting Emma. At least for a little while. To have our fun and get it out of our systems. I know she wants the same.
She may pretend to want a gentleman, to want goody-goody Mason, but I know otherwise. Her coy smiles and blushing cheeks when I’m close show me she wants to be bad.
Me: Just trying to have some fun. Aren’t you? With your “friend”?
I just had to send the last part.
Emma: He is my friend, but it doesn’t mean we can’t evolve into something more.
I cringe, but I’m nothing if not persistent.
Me: Don’t wear anything too low cut. I’d hate to have to kick his ass for staring too long.
Emma: And I’d hate to have to kick your ass for being such an idiot.
I laugh out loud, still sitting in my car, and run a hand down my face for the millionth time since I met Emma. She does this to me—drives me crazy. She’s intriguing. Witty. Haunted. And I want to know more about the latter.
But first, I need to make sure tonight is her last date with surfer McGee, and I know just what to do.
CHAPTER 12
Emma
“Oh my God! Finally!” Kendall squeals. “You’re finally going out with Mason.” She twirls me around, but I don’t go willingly, so we end up doing an awkward version of the do-si-do.
“It’s not a big deal. Just dinner.” I open my closet and pull out outfit options as Kendall bounces on my bed in my periphery.
“Okay, these are spandex leggings you wear to the gym.” She holds them up with one hand like they’re dirty laundry, her lips twisted with doubt.
“So? I can wear a cute top to dress it up.” I push hangers to the side, ignoring her very loud mockery of my choices. “Besides, I looked up the restaurant, and it’s pretty casual.”
“Why am I not surprised you did research before your date?”
“Because I’m prepared? A concept lost on most people.” I glare at her.
She exhales, then says, “Listen. This is a date, so you need date-wear.”
“That’s not a word.” I stop rifling through my clothes, then tap my chin and survey the various choices.
Kendall yanks on my arm. “It is a word, and you have to let me pick something out for you.”
When I give in, she about jumps on me before rushing out of the room. I know she’s just excited for me. Her energy is actually pretty infectious, and it’s helping calm my nerves.
And because of how much she’s emotionally invested in this, I don’t tell her Ty’s crashing our date. With Tarryn, of all people. She still hates me. Last week, she left trash and props from her outdoor kickboxing event in front of my studio. When she didn’t come back that day to clean it up, I did it for her—I just wanted to be nice. Then she snapped at me because I “cleaned the windows wrong.”
Like I’m a bad cleaner? Yeah, right. My white sneakers would say otherwise.
Kendall walks back into the room with an armful of clothes from her own closet. Holding up a tank, she smiles. “This is totally cute. You need this with a pair of high-waisted jeans, the ones we got from that boutique last weekend. It’s the perfect outfit!”
And perfect it is, I must admit, although I’m not surprised. Kendall can be sloppy at times, but she can put a killer outfit together when it counts.
Once I’m dressed, I check my watch. “He’ll be here any minute, so I need you to go away.”
“What?”
“Stop pouting. I got you a Victoria’s Secret gift card.” I bat my eyelashes, extending her bribe. “The semi-annual sale is still going on…”
She chews her bottom lip, then snatches the card out of my hand. “Okay, but you have to tell me everything. Like every, delicious fucking detail. I swear, if you see his dick and don’t tell me about it—”
“Go!” I shoo her toward the front door. “And what did we talk about?”
“Okay, no crude words regarding genitalia. But seriously, you have to tell me everything.”
Once I agree, she leaves me alone, and I pic
ture her racing toward the mall, ready to elbow her way through fragile teens for a ten-dollar sports bra. She swears by them and how they keep her tits at bay—her words.
Rubbing my sweaty palms down my jeans, I stand by the window and watch a small group file into Mrs. Lang’s restaurant next door. Then I see Mason’s car parked in a visitor’s spot up front.
I grab my purse, a baby blue Michael Kors over-the-shoulder that’s tainted with my father’s bribery in exchange for my love. I only kept it because it also reminds me of the good times with him, of the times when he wasn’t so absent.
The times before he divorced my mom, who then drowned her sorrows in booze, leaving me to pick up the pieces.
I was thirteen.
I open my door at the same time that Mason goes to knock. His fist stops midair, then knocks playfully on my forehead. “Knock, knock. Someone order a date this evening?”
I giggle at the way Mason blushes. I think it’s because of his adorable joke, but also from my outfit. The jeans hug my thighs, and my short tank accentuates my breasts. Kendall said it’s classy yet sexy. According to Mason and his nearly salivating mouth, I’d say it’s more sexy than anything.
I shift from one foot to the other, growing so uncomfortable under his scrutiny that I almost ask him to wait while I quickly change.
“You look great.” He swallows and offers me his arm.
“Thank you.” I grin sheepishly and loop my arm through his. “So do you.”
He opens my car door for me, and although I expected something like this to be endearing, it’s not really. Once he closes the door behind me and goes to his side, I wince, wondering why it bothered me.
Brant never did such a thing. Not toward the end, anyway. He was polite and charming in the beginning, like he was trying to impress me, but somewhere along the way, that stuff stopped.
As did his charming side.
I smooth my hair back and tighten my ponytail as Mason settles in. Kendall insisted I let my hair down, but I wear it this way for practical reasons, nothing else. It’s out of my face and still looks good, and I don’t have to worry about it getting tangled.
Practical—something Kendall knows nothing about.
A twinge of jealousy hits me as we pull out of the parking lot. She might comment on how put together my life is—just like my ponytail—but sometimes I wish I was more carefree like her. She spontaneously dropped out of college and moved out here to LA to live with me.
I moved out here too, but I chased a boy. I followed him out here because I thought he was the one, and I wanted to make our relationship work. He seemed so excited when I suggested I move with him.
We were planning to get married. Have kids, a big house with a pool, a dog.
That’s what I wanted—a family.
“I’m so happy we’re finally doing this.” He threads his fingers through mine on the console and holds my hand the whole way to the restaurant. His hand is warm and clammy, making me inwardly cringe. Ten minutes have never felt so long.
“Yeah, although I wish we weren’t ambushed for a double date. Tarryn doesn’t even like me.”
“What’s that about?”
“Ty is just an arrogant prick. Can’t help himself but to ruin everyone’s good time with his assholery.”
He chuckles, his face glowing with the passing lights. “While I can’t disagree, I meant Tarryn. Why the war?”
“Oh.” I blush, scolding myself for immediately thinking about Ty when I’m holding hands with a perfect gentleman. “Given we’ve barely spoken, it’s hard to say why she dislikes me so much. I think it might have to do with her wishing the previous owner wouldn’t have left.”
“But that’s not your fault.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, she’s missing out.”
I smile, but I barely register his compliment as my mind wanders to what Ty and Tarryn are doing. If they’re holding hands too.
If they’re doing more.
I grimace, hating that I care so much. Mason squeezes my hand as we pull up to the restaurant, and I can’t wait to get it back. His hand in mine feels foreign, not like home.
I feel more heat when Ty’s close to me—when he’s not even touching me.
But when he placed a hot kiss just below my ear? I about lost my mind.
I open my car door before Mason has a chance to, smiling at his obvious disappointment. To ease the blow, I loop my arm back through his but keep my body at a distance.
My stomach sinks the closer we get to the front door of the restaurant, knowing I’m about to spend the night across from Ty on a double date where he’s not mine.
The whole time knowing I shouldn’t care.
When we turn the corner, my stomach all but heaves at the sight of Tarryn’s back against the wall and Ty caging her in like he’s about to devour her right there on the sidewalk.
I swallow in an attempt to wet my dry throat. Gripping Mason’s arm a little tighter, I take small steps toward them, ready to get this over with.
This is going to be a long night.
CHAPTER 13
Ty
She walks around the corner like an angel, the glow from the streetlight behind her creating a silhouette.
Dressed in tight jeans and a short tank with buttons down the center, she’s perfect. I’ve only seen her in regular clothes once, the first time we met. She was magnificent in her short skirt and red lipstick.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her in several weeks.
She’s the reason I haven’t had sex all this time, not that I care to admit it out loud to myself or the guys. I’d never live it down. It’s all because of Emma and how I can’t stop picturing her face any time I try to even talk to another woman. And now she’s here with a different guy, while I fight off Tarryn’s eager paws and “accidental” dick grazes.
I remind myself she’s just hurting from her recent loss and wants attention.
We’re very similar in that regard, so I’d like to help her.
Plus, women have done a lot worse at my shows, so I barely notice anymore unless it’s Emma touching me. Even if it’s just to stomp on my foot or slap me.
I stand up when Emma and Mason approach. As I do, Tarryn leans into me, pushing her boobs against my arm. I shake Mason’s hand and try to unglue her from me. “Hey guys. We were wondering if you got lost.”
Emma scoffs. “What’re you talking about? We’re five minutes early.”
She glances at Tarryn, her lightly glossed lip twitching like she’s refraining from frowning at the sight of her and me together. Interesting.
“Guess I’m just that hungry,” I say.
“Well, maybe you should’ve eaten a snack beforehand.”
Tarryn interjects. “Oh, I gave him plenty to snack on.” She winks at me before squeezing my bicep.
I close my eyes, a fake smile plastered on my face. When I open them again to play it off, my face falls at Emma’s dejected expression. So much hurt in her eyes before she squares her shoulders. “I’m surprised you made it here earlier than us, then, although I’m not surprised Ty’s lacking in stamina.” Emma swallows with a flash of what appears to be guilt, like she didn’t mean to say that out loud.
It has me smiling smugly. If we were alone, I’d tell her if she wants to find out just how impressive my stamina is, all she has to do is ask.
“Shall we eat or what?” Her smile is tight-lipped before she takes off toward the front door, her ponytail swinging side to side behind her.
Tugging on Emma’s arm, I pull her to the side and tell Mason and Tarryn to get a table.
“Let me go. I didn’t have any snacks, so I’m ready to eat.”
“I don’t know why she said that. Nothing happened. I didn’t even see the inside of her apartment.”
Her expression softens, just a glimpse of relief, before she purses her lips. “I don’t know why you felt the need to explain. I don’t care what you do with her or anyone else, for tha
t matter.”
“I call bullshit.”
“And I call skank alert. The ho police are looking for their leader, and oh yeah, you brought her. Seriously, my bikinis cover more than that thing she calls a dress does.”
“You’re only making yourself look more like you care.” I smirk.
“Well, I don’t.” Her lower lip trembles, and I know she’s lying.
She pushes past me and swings the door so forcefully it hits the wall outside. She continues walking, her back rigid and shoulders squared.
The fire in her, it’s fascinating.
As I follow closely behind her, I chuckle under my breath, that much more intrigued by her.
At this moment, I am more determined than before to make sure she doesn’t go home with Mason. It’ll be tricky, but if I’m an extra bad and tempting boy, I’ll make it happen.
“And this one”—Mason chuckles, pointing to Emma—“took the small puppy away from the kid, and for a second, I actually thought she was going to run away with it.”
The restaurant is crowded and loud, the chairs variations of bright colors, and we’re leaned in close to hear each other.
“The kid was pulling on the dog’s back legs like they were in a wheelbarrow race. I couldn’t let that poor puppy be abused!” Emma giggles, which makes me smile while I fight the vomit crawling up my throat when I look at the smug bastard beside her.
“The kid was three, and she started crying after you took it away.”
Emma shrugs, and my smile grows wider at how much she cares about those animals. “I bet she forgot all about it by the time her parents got her ice cream and took her home.”
“How cute are you two,” Tarryn gushes beside me. “How long have you been together?”
I tense, and Tarryn cuts her eyes at me.
Emma laughs, toying with her straw, seemingly uncomfortable. The thought that it’s ridiculous to her puts me at ease. For now, anyway. “Oh, we’re not together. This is our first date, actually.”
“What about you guys?” Mason points to us.
Let Loose for Me Page 6
