“London!” Midge scolds, her hands flying to her hips.
“Sorry, Midge,” I tell her, taking another glance at Royce. He turns his back to me and busies himself with something behind the bar. “You know I can’t do that,” I whisper.
“I know you want to.”
I don’t answer, but she’s not waiting for one. She’s already pulling someone up to do a body shot.
For the next hour and a half, Royce makes himself scarce. Chad makes our drinks for us as Royce sticks to the other end of the bar. I can’t help but wonder why he’s staying away. Is he mad that I didn’t lick his neck? Can he really be mad at me about that? Because he knows I’m with Hunter, and that’s not something you should do when you’re in a relationship. I wouldn’t appreciate it if Hunter was taking body shots off some woman, so I can’t be a hypocrite.
I’m also aware that my attraction to Royce is a little more than just thinking someone else is cute. Midge was right. Royce isn’t cute. You can’t describe a man like him as cute. It’s almost offensive. The angles of his face look like they were sculpted by Michelangelo himself. He’s drop-dead gorgeous. His eyes are seductive. He pulls you in closer by just looking at you. His lips are tantalizing. And licking any part of his body, even if it was his Goddamn pinky would absolutely ruin me.
As time passes, and he continues to ignore me…us, and focuses instead on the group of what look like college girls, I find myself drinking more. I take a shot when he doesn’t look my way, I take a shot for caring that he hasn’t looked at me. I take another to the cheers of Midge and the rest of our group.
Midge pulls me to the dancefloor and we drunkenly dance to the hip-hop music being played over the sound system. Jon and Daniel dance together next to us, and the four of us laugh our asses off as Jon and Daniel try to re-enact the famous Dirty Dancing move. Luckily, Daniel’s able to keep Jon from falling to the floor, but the visual is too much to take.
“Oh my God, you guys are gonna make me pee on myself!” I squeal, rushing to the bathroom.
I barely get the toilet seat cover in place before I have an accident, but as I sit on the covered seat and sway back and forth, my phone dings from the top of the toilet paper holder. I slam my hand on it and bring it to my face, squinting and then widening my eyes, trying to read the message.
When I recognize Hunter’s name, I realize I don’t even want to attempt to try to type out a response. It’ll be a mess, so I just call him instead.
“Hey, babe,” he answers.
“Hey,” I reply, dragging the word out before laughing.
“You’ve been drinking, I take it?” he asks.
“Yeah, just a li’l. Midge, you know. Taking shots and stuff. What’re you doin’?”
“I’m just about to crawl into bed. I just wanted to say goodnight.”
“Oh. Do you wanna come to King’s Tavern?” I ask on a whim. Probably to piss of Royce, but I don’t think too much into it.
“Right now? It’s already after midnight, London.”
“Still early. They don’t close ‘til three.”
I hear him sigh. “It’s not really my scene, you know that. Do you need a ride?”
“I can walk.”
“At three in the morning?”
“It’s a safe place. Don’t worry about me. Just go to sleep. Goodnight.”
“London.”
I hang up before he says anything else and finish my business. After I wash my hands, I slide my phone in my back pocket before heading back to the dancefloor.
When I don’t find Midge right away, I walk up to Jon and Daniel who are pressed up against the wall watching other people dance.
“Give up on the movie moves?” I ask with a laugh.
“We’ll get it next time,” Jon replies.
“You guys see where Midge went?”
Daniel tilts his head to the right and I follow the direction to find her standing near a booth and talking to a guy who looks like he isn’t even able to drink alcohol legally yet.
“Ah, I see.”
“I think little miss is trying to find a bed buddy tonight,” Jon says, taking a sip of his cocktail.
“He looks like a baby. You see that face? Not a hair on it,” I say.
“Life is all about making mistakes,” Jon states with a shrug. “But I like to call them life experiences.”
“We all have different life experiences. Some are more enjoyable than others, and some we look back on and either cringe or laugh, but life experiences nonetheless,” Daniel says.
“Well, call it what you want, but Midge is gonna complain about this tomorrow. Believe me,” I say with a laugh. “Anyway, want another drink?” I ask them.
“Yes, please,” Jon answers. Daniel shakes his head and holds up his already full glass.
When I get to the bar, I stand there and tap my fingers on the cherry wood while I wait for Chad to get done serving the girl next to me. Unfortunately, she seems to be ordering drinks for a party of twenty, so I end up waiting around for several minutes.
I lean against the bar and scan the room. Midge catches my eye and gives me both a thumbs up and thumbs down, seeking my opinion on the guy she’s with. I give her a shrug. I mean, he’s kind of cute, but nothing to write home about.
“Sorry about that,” Chad says, getting my attention. “What can I get ya?”
“Black Label, on the rocks, and a Pina Colada.”
As I watch Chad make my drink, I realize it’ll probably be one too many, considering I’m already feeling well past tipsy, but I guess I’ll just drink it slowly.
“Where’s Royce?” I ask, hating myself for it.
He looks around. “Uh, I think he went upstairs for a minute.”
I nod, and wonder if he took a girl up there for a quickie.
Once I have mine and Jon’s drinks, I weave through the crowd to get back to him and Daniel.
“Thanks, doll,” Jon says, taking the drink. “This will probably be my last one, then we’re gonna head home. Do you need a ride? Looks like Midge might ditch ya.”
I spin around and find Midge, who’s now sitting in the lap of the baby face guy. “You’re probably right,” I say with a laugh. “But, no, I’ll be fine. I only live a few blocks away.”
“You’re gonna walk?” Daniel questions, putting his arm around Jon’s shoulders.
The two of them are like night and day. Daniel has at least six inches on Jon, and where he’s dark-haired, Jon is a dirty blond. Daniel has a strong jaw, and Jon has a more round and softer face. Daniel is a bit on the bulky side, whereas Jon has a leaner frame. They’re opposites, but they completely go together.
“We can’t let you walk home, honey. Not in your condition,” Jon says with a laugh.
“My condition? You’re just as drunk as me!”
“And I’m getting a ride,” he says, laying his head on Daniel’s shoulder. “He hasn’t had near as much to drink tonight.”
“He’s right. I’m not gonna let you walk home. I don’t care how close it is. You’ve been drinking, and someone could try to take advantage of you, or you could stumble and fall and break an ankle,” Daniel says, pointing at my heels. “Those are dangerous.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll go home when you guys go home.”
Halfway into my final drink, I start to realize I should’ve probably started drinking water a while back. Instead, I take one last sip and put it down, then take Jon to the dancefloor while Daniel watches us and laughs.
Midge and her new guy join us a couple minutes later, and then me and Midge slow dance together as we belt out the lyrics to the song that’s playing. Her guy awkwardly makes his way back to the table with his friends, and Jon goes back to Daniel.
“I’m mad that I like Royce,” I admit to Midge with my head on her shoulder.
“I know, boo. It’s okay.”
We don’t say anything else, we just keep swaying. A minute later, Midge straightens up.
“Uh, Lo?”
“Yeah?” I murmur
, feeling sleepy.
“Hunter is here.”
I snap my head up and regret the quick movement. “What? Where?”
“At the door. The one who looks like he doesn’t belong,” she cackles.
My eyes dart from face to face until I see his. When he spots me, he raises his hand to get my attention, then continues toward me.
“I never thought I’d see him step foot in here,” Midge says.
“I called him earlier.”
“A drunken call?”
“Something like that. I was mad at Royce for ignoring me, so I invited him out. He was going to bed, though, so I didn’t expect him to show up.”
“Well, he’s here.” Midge cocks her head in the direction of the bar. “And Royce is back.”
I shift my gaze, knowing she’s telling the truth, but needing to see for myself.
“Hey, Midge,” Hunter greets as he approaches us.
“Hello,” she replies. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Well, I’m not really here,” he replies with a grin. “I’m just here to take London home. She seemed a little drunk on the phone earlier.”
“She is right here,” I quip.
“Hey, sweetie. You ready to go?” he asks, turning his attention to me.
Midge gives me a look, and I know we’ll be talking about this tomorrow. I let out a sigh. “Yeah, let me just go pay my tab.”
Before I go to the bar to settle, I say a quick goodbye to Jon and Daniel. Of course, it’s Royce who’s at the register.
“I’m here to pay my tab,” I say coolly.
He looks over my shoulder at Hunter then back at me, and without saying anything, he runs my card and hands me a receipt to sign. After I sloppily scratch my signature onto the paper and hand it back, I go to turn and walk away.
“Sunshine.” His raspy voice stops me in my tracks and sends a tiny jolt of excitement through my veins.
“Yeah?”
He pulls something out from under the bar and hands it to me.
Rolos. He bought me Rolos.
I crack a grin, because he doesn’t understand the analogy Midge was making with the Skittles and Rolos.
“Thank you.”
I watch as she walks out of the bar with Hunter at her side, and the pain that follows hits me like a bat to the gut.
Look, I have nothing against Hunter. I don’t know the guy, but what I do know is that London should be with me. When we’re together, something deep in her pulls at something deep in me, and I know we belong with each other. There’s an invisible thread between us, tying us to one another, and it hurts like a motherfucker when she walks away from me.
If I want London to understand that I’m serious about wanting to be with her, I suppose it’s time to up my game a little. I’m not going to go out of my way to ruin her relationship, because she’ll have to come to that decision on her own, but how will she be aware she has another option if I don’t present it to her?
At three o’clock, when everyone shuffles out the door, I stay and close down the register and clean up. I let Chad leave a little early, but Lennox stays behind with me.
“Hey, Lennox. How’d you know Chloe was the one?”
He looks up from the desk where he’s going over inventory, his brows furrowing briefly before a wide smile takes over his face. He leans back in the chair and locks his hands behind his head.
Lennox is a big guy with dark brown skin and stands a couple inches taller than me at six foot two or so. But he most definitely outweighs me by about forty or fifty pounds. He’s also eleven years older than me, so definitely more seasoned with the women.
“Who’s the girl?” he questions. “The blonde you always talk to at the bar?”
I lean against the doorframe and cross my arms. “There’s more than one blond woman who comes into the bar.”
“Yeah, but you know the one I’m talking about,” he chuckles. “To anybody with eyes, it’s obvious you’re feelin’ her.”
“You’re barely out there. What’re you talking about?”
“Exactly, and if I know who you’re talking about, that’s saying something.” He gives me a pointed look.
“Yeah, it’s the blonde,” I admit.
“I know,” he says, leaning forward and putting his arms on the desk. “But to answer your question, I knew Chloe was the one, because she found me. I wasn’t out looking. I was like you. I was out, doin’ my thing, and not worried about relationships. Shit crept up on me. I found myself doing things differently than I ever had.”
I nod, taking in what he’s saying. He continues.
“Before Chloe, I was more concerned about putting on a front for people. I felt like I had to change who I was to be accepted. To be loved. It felt like work a lot of the time. Love shouldn’t be work. Real love is being one hundred percent yourself, flaws and all, and still being accepted. Love is easy, because the two of you are just being yourselves, and there are no expectations. So, when I say I was doing things differently, it was because I was finally comfortable enough to be myself. It made all the difference in the world.”
“Thanks, man.”
He nods, smiling a little as he goes back to work on the books. “You’ll know. Don’t worry, man. It’s not like they say. Love isn’t going to hit you like a ton of bricks. It’s one brick at a time, but instead of building a wall, those bricks will be tearing down the wall you’ve put around your heart.”
I smile, loving his analogy. “I appreciate it.”
He nods but doesn’t look up, so I leave him alone and head to my apartment upstairs. I have another place—an actual house, but this building came with the apartment, and it comes in handy for these late nights, or nights when me or one of my brothers gets wasted and need a place to crash.
Once I’m out of my shirt, I turn the shower on, and go back to the room to plug my phone in while I wait for the water to heat up. Before I walk away, it rings, and Merrick’s name flashes on the screen.
“Hey, man,” I answer, happy to hear from him. “You haven’t forgotten about us already?”
Merrick laughs. “Nah, not yet. Sorry to call you so late. I’m on a weird sleep schedule right now.”
“It’s fine. I just got up to my place.”
“Figured.”
“So, what’s up? How’s the album?”
“Oh, it’s good, man! Really good. The single is really hitting hard, and everybody at the label is loving every song.”
“That’s awesome, man. You guys worked hard for so long, you deserve this shit. Live it up and love every second.”
“Yeah, man. Shit is fire as fuck! The album comes out in a few weeks, and then we wait to see how it does, but everybody is already assuming it’s gonna big a huge hit. Oh fuck, I forgot to tell you, we already recorded the video for the single, so watch for that in like a week or so.”
“Shit, man. My brother is gonna be in a professional music video! This is wild.”
Merrick chuckles. “I can’t believe this is my life now.”
“So, music video, then album, and then tour?” I ask.
“Yeah, we’ll be out promoting the album not long after it comes out. Probably just a US tour, nothing overseas yet, but fuck if I care. I’m planning on going home for a minute before we hit the road.”
“People might lose their damn minds,” I say with a laugh.
“We’re not too big yet,” he replies humbly. “Plus, that damn town already knows what’s up with me and the band. We grew up there, they won’t care that we’re around.”
“You think that,” I tell him. “Shit’s different when you’re famous.”
“We’ll see. You and the others can be my bodyguards.”
“Fuck you,” I laugh.
“All right, man. I gotta go, but I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Okay, cool. Love you, man. So proud of you.”
“Love you, too.”
Once Merrick and I hang up, I take a quick shower and promptly fall into bed
. It’s damn near four-thirty in the morning, and I hope to get outside for my run before it gets too hot.
And yes, maybe I hope to run into London again.
The sun shines through the slats of my blinds, hitting me squarely in the eyes, which makes me aware of the fact that I didn’t close them all the way. I maneuver my head so I’m facing the other way, and then pull the thick comforter over my face, wanting to be unconscious again. Unconscious me isn’t aware of the throbbing headache or queasiness in my stomach.
I pull just a little bit of the cover down, taking a glimpse at the blue numbers on my clock reading eleven twenty-six. With a groan, I shove the comforter down, my hands slamming against the bed.
I like to be out for my run by ten-thirty, before it gets too hot, but because of my staying up and drinking last night, I’m already late. I contemplate even doing it at all, but I know I’ll feel better once I do.
After I go to the bathroom and get my hair pulled into a high ponytail, and put my leggings and tank top on, I head across the small hallway and into the kitchen to get a quick breakfast.
My apartment isn’t much, but it’s enough for me. I have a decent sized living room, and the kitchen is why I chose this place. The white cabinets with black hardware match the white and black granite countertops, and they are to die for. The island also serves as my dining table, but it’s big enough for three stools, and that’s fine with me.
There’s two bedrooms, though the spare would likely be called a small office space. The closet barely exists, and if I were to put bedroom furniture in there, it could probably only fit a daybed and chest of drawers. Luckily, I don’t need it to house bedroom furniture. Instead, I have a small gray loveseat pushed against one wall, and a white desk in the corner for my computer. A full-body mirror leans against another wall, and I’ve really contemplated giving myself a project and making it into a luxurious, walk-in closet. Right now, it’s mostly just my cat’s room.
Pennywise, my cat, peeks his head out the door when he hears me go into the kitchen.
“Hey, Penny. Come here, boy,” I call to him. He stares at me for a couple seconds, his blue eyes bright against his white fur, then turns his back on me and goes back to his room. “Asshole,” I mutter.
On the Rocks (Kingston Brothers Book 1) Page 5
