Authors: Jen Khan
“You babes ready?”
I nod and smile up at him like an idiot. “Yeah,” I mutter.
His mouth twitches.
Now his eyes move over my shoulder to Holly. “So everyone is right and shitfaced?”
“Yep!” the three of us simultaneously responds.
This earns a deep chuckle from Jake. We release each other.
“You gonna carry us out over your shoulder, Mr. Fireman?” Holly slurs.
Olivia and I look at each other and burst into laughter.
“You need carryin’ out?”
“It’s safe to say that I prefer to be carried out.”
Olivia and I continue our giggling.
His lips twitch again. “I guess being shitfaced and wearing those heels might require some assistance in getting you out of here without you landing on your ass.”
I am, at this point, dabbing the corners of my eyes with my finger for the one hundredth time, seeing as I am now in tears for the one hundredth time this evening. This girl is batshit crazy and I love her for it.
Jake turns, kneels down, and tells her, “Hop on.”
“Yeah!” Holly squeals, she stands up in the booth and actually hops on.
I
get Holly’s purse and jacket, and Olivia quickly slams the rest of her margarita back. We follow Jake out to his macho man F-150, stumbling this way and that way. He unlocks the doors and we climb in.
Olivia takes control of the stereo and we sing— or scream—Katy Perry’s ‘I Kissed a Girl’ as Jake winces all the way to the apartment.
Chapter Eighteen
I fill the decanter with water and slide the pot in the coffee maker. After flipping the on switch, I pull down some mugs as Holly sits on a stool at the bar.
Olivia peers up over the couch. “Who’s making me some breakfast?”
There is a knock at the door.
I walk to it and open it up, seeing Braden and Tristan.
“Hey, boys,” I greet, stepping back to the side and allowing them entrance.
Trista
n walks in and Braden stops at me, leaning his head to the side. “Hung over, baby?” he asks with a grin.
“You could say that,” I reply.
His hand wraps around the back of my head, bringing it close and placing a sweet kiss to the top of my head while mumbling, “I missed you last night.” Not letting me go, he closes the door behind him, snakes his hand around the back of my neck, and guides me to the kitchen.
“Hey, Tristan,” Holly says, her eyes skimming over his body.
“Cupcake,” he greets back, his eyes scanning her.
Braden
observes this little exchange between his brother and Holly. His slides his gaze down to mine. My eyes bug out at him and his face beams.
“My brothers,” Olivia grumbles, plopping back down onto the couch.
Braden shakes his head and gives me a squeeze.
“Coffee will be ready in a few,” I inform them. “What brings you boys over to our humble abode?”
“We heard you kids had a wild night out last night. Just wanted to come see how you were holding up,” Tristan
answers, his eyes on Holly the whole time.
“Well, isn’t that sweet,” I gr
umble.
Holly is grinning from ear to ear. Clearly Tristan cures hangovers.
“Would you guys like some breakfast? Holly makes a mean toast and bacon, maybe some eggs.”
Holly’s shoulders grow tight
and my eyes slide to Braden, who is now watching something fascinating at his feet, his lips pressed together, trying not to crack a smile.
“I could use some toast,” Tristan replies casually.
“Holly? Tristan could use some toast.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her.
Braden stifles a laugh and lightly shakes me.
“Okay,” she mutters.
“A good-looking guy like Tristan, being shockingly single, needs a good woman in his life who can make some great toast. Doesn’t he, Holly?”
“Jesus, Em! We already know he’s giving her good orgasms. Why are you trying to set them up?” Olivia groans behind the couch.
I bite my lip and shake my head. Braden makes a strangled noise deep in his throat. Tristan chuckles. Holly’s eyes are huge and her face is flaming red.
I break free of Braden’s hold and walk to the kitchen. “Come on, Holly. Let’s make these growing boys the breakfast of champions.”
She reluctantly slides
off the stool and follows me to the fridge.
“Have a seat, boys.” I tell them. “Make yourselves at home.”
I open the fridge and pull out the bacon, margarine, jelly, and eggs. Holly removes pans from the cabinet. She gets busy on the bacon. I take the bread out of the pantry and untwist the tie. After I put the bread in the toaster, I go to the fridge for the milk.
I feel a hand around my waist guiding me into the warm hard body that is Braden. He reaches around me, pulling out the milk and placing it on the counter.
I am starting to get used to him touching me all the time. I like when he touches me every chance he gets. He’s made a habit out of it. Even a touch as simple as brushing by me behind the bar during peak business hours.
I clear my throat. “Anyone want juice? I have cranberry and orange.”
“No thanks,” Tristan answers.
“Nah, I’m good, baby doll,” Olivia mutters.
I take out some plates, grab the toast, and replace it in the toaster with more bread before I start buttering.
“Emma, you working tonight?” Olivia asks.
“Sure am,” I respond.
“Awesome! Juice and I will be hanging out. We’ll come by and keep you company.”
“Hey, Tristan!” I called.
He
looks over the couch at me.
“You should come by here tonight and scoop up Holly. Bring her by the bar too.”
“Em—“ Holly mutters low so that only I can make out what she is saying.
“I’ve got plans,” Tristan states.
“Well, I know—“
“Emma,” Holly mutters again.
Tristan stands, rounds the couch, and climbs into a stool. He lowers his head, trying to catch Holly’s eyes at the stove. “I have plans to take Holly out to dinner. If she’ll go.”
Holly’s head jerks up and
spins to Tristan as she gawks at him.
“You want dinner?” he asks her.
Her brows furrowed. “I thought—“
Tristan’s hand
grips the arm holding the spatula. “You eat dinner, don’t you?”
She rolls her eyes, her face flaming red.
I smile at Braden, who smiles and winks at me.
“Dinner sounds good. I could eat dinner,” Holly answers.
“Good. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
He
gets closer to her. I am having a hard time deciphering what he is saying into her ear, but I’m pretty sure he says, “Wear something sexy. Something I can peel off with my teeth when we’re back at my house.”
Holly’s face becomes an even brighter shade of red.
Tristan straightens his torso and moves towards the bar. She starts flipping bacon rather aggressively.
“Oh, and cupcake? Wear those heels I like so much. I want to feel those heels in my back when I’m driving into you tonight.”
“Jesus!” Olivia grunts. “Lululululululululululululululululululululululu!”
******
Olivia and Juice are hanging out with a group of dart leaguers.
Since I got all new dartboards and spoke with some of the regulars, we were able to get a dart league formed who met every Tuesday and Thursday night. This raised liquor sales considerably. It is also good for the kitchen. They are pumping out appetizers and burgers left and right.
The joint is jumpin’—Jim’s words exactly. Since I started working here, I’ve seen less and less of him, and I don’t know if I am happy about this because he trusts me to run the place and do a good job or if I am sad because I mi
ss seeing his face. Maybe it’s just a little bit of both.
I round the bar and make my way out onto the floor to help with cleanup. I am wiping down a table next to Olivia’s when an arm snake
s around my middle.
I look over my shoulder and see a man with blond hair that is shaped perfectly on his head, not a single hair out of place. He’s dressed in a white collared shirt and khaki pants. I guess he can be considered good-looking, but he just isn’t my type. Too preppy-looking for my taste.
Olivia looks over my shoulder. “She’s taken, Romeo.”
“Oh yeah?” the blond preppy boy responds.
“Sorry, fella. I’m busy and not one to mix business with pleasure,” I say, turning back around and stepping aside. He doesn’t seem convinced.
I brush his hand away only for him to bring it back along with another hand. Now I have two preppy hands traveling up my midriff. I slap at his hands and move to the side when his hands bring me back to his body, pressing his chest to my back.
His hand moves from my waist and travels up my side. I grab that hand by the thumb and bend it back, whirling around and bending back farther. Preppy Boy drops to his knees, closing his eyes.
“All right, all right.”
I bend down and put my face within mere inches of his, my eyes staring into his. “When a girl tells you in a nice way to fuck off, fuck off!” I spat.
His eyes widen and I release his thumb.
I walk towards Olivia, her eyes get big and go round when there is a scuffle behind me. When I look back, Preppy Boy is being lifted off the ground by a very angry Braden. Juice follows Braden and Preppy Boy to the back door.
Shit!
Olivia goes after them and I return to wiping down tables.
When the boys and Olivia come to the table, it appears as though they are a lot calmer. Braden places one arm behind my back and the other under my knees, lifting me and settling us into a chair. In one slick move, I am sitting in his lap and he’s looking up at me with a gorgeous smile.
“I coulda handled Preppy Boy,” I mumble.
“I know, baby. I just didn’t want you to have to handle—Preppy Boy? And I didn’t like seeing him try to
handle
you.”
I kiss him on the tip of his nose. “My hero,” I smile.
His hands rub up and down my thigh and it is freakin’ amazing. “As long as you’ll keep me around, I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
There is a loud thump. We turn to see Olivia’s head on the table.
“Gah!” Her head whips up and she stands—or damn near jumps—out of her chair. “I’m going to the bar before there’s even more talk of sex and orgasms, and if I might add, I have thrown up more in my mouth in the past twenty-four hours than in my entire life. You boys are gross!”
I can’t help the snicker that escapes me.
“Baby?”
“Yeah, honey.”
Braden smiles at my term of endearment. His other arm comes around my waist and his arms tighten. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I told you I could’ve handled him. My teacher is the shit.”
“I meant about Delgado getting released on bail. How you handling that?”
I saw his eyes going from warm and kind to ice as soon as he said that monster’s name.
Holly and her big mouth. She got the word first thing this morning when she stepped into her office. Therefore, she informed the rest of our group. Braden was pissed when he got her text message this morning while we were watching TV after
everyone had left the apartment. Pissed at the fact that I hadn’t told him about the call I had received the night before from the D.A.’s office, but more pissed at the fact that Delgado had been released at all.
“I could be better. I’ve been looking over my shoulder a lot.” I sigh,
laying my forehead to his cheek.
Braden’s hand strokes my back.
I sigh again and look back to his eyes. “How are you holding up?”
Eyes wide, brows up, he replies, “Excuse me?”
“How are you holding up?” I repeat.
“Why does that matter?”
“It matters, Braden, because I know how deeply this has all hurt you too. I still see it in your eyes. You blame yourself. You have to stop doing that.”
“I don’t know that I can do that, baby,” he breathes out.
“You blaming yourself for something you had absolutely no control over isn’t going to help anyone.”
“I should’ve been t
here to protect you.”
“That was my fault. I did that. Not you.”
Braden shakes his head, closing his eyes. “I shouldn’t have let you leave. I should have fought harder.”
I
put both hands on the sides of his face, cupping his jaw, and resting my forehead to his. “Stop,” I whisper. “No more of this blame game. There was no way we could’ve known what was going to happen. The only two people I blame for all of this are Delgado and Joe. No one else. You got that?”
Braden
sighs and rolls his forehead with mine.
I
kiss him on his forehead and rub my nose against his. “Gotta get back to work, honey. It’s getting busy in here” I inform him.
His eyes are focused on mine and they are dancing. He really does like it when I call him honey. Another mental note—call Braden ‘honey’ more often.