Finding Focus (18 page)

Sheridan

Micah: When you fart in public, do you fess up?

Me: It’s one-thirty in the morning.

Micah: Did I wake you?

Me: No.

Micah: Then answer my question. I feel it shows a person’s true character.

Me: No.

Micah: No? Do you pin it on someone else?

Me: OMG, Micah. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. I don’t confess or blame anyone else because I try very hard not to do THAT in public!

Micah: But what happens when one slips out?

Me: That’s never happened before.

Micah: Bullshit.

Me: What do you do when one slips out?

Micah: I claim it if I need to. That shows I’m honest and responsible, don’t you think?

Me: No, it shows that you’re gross.

Me: Happy 4th of July! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. ;) Actually, please live it up and allow me to live vicariously through you, because I have no life.

Piper: I’m drinking in your honor tonight, Sheridan Reed! I hope you get vicariously drunk. I might need you to vicariously hold my hair in the morning. ;) Love you, D! Happy 4th! Wish you were here!

Two different texts come through simultaneously.

Piper: P.S. Who’s 225–555–7319?

Micah: Who the hell is 205–739–0005?

I roll my eyes, knowing I just opened a can of worms. I guess I wasn’t really thinking clearly when I sent the group text.

Me: Piper, meet Micah Landry. Micah Landry, Piper Grey, the best friend.

Micah: Hello, Piper.

Piper: Ah ha, Micah Landry. Well, isn’t this fun. ;)

Micah: Not to be one-upped by the best friend, I’ll be drinking in your honor as well, Ms. Reed.

Piper: Well, isn’t that chivalrous.

Me: You’ve gotta watch him, Pipe. He has some southern playboy voodoo charm.

Piper: I’ll remember that.

Piper: Micah Landry. Spill.

Me: It’s 8:05AM. Why are you awake? Did you never go to bed?

Piper: I’m not quite the party animal I once was. *sigh*

I laugh, missing my best friend so damn much.

Me: Aww! Does that mean you didn’t get vicariously drunk for me last night and sleep with some random guy? Because I desperately needed to get laid. I forgot to tell you that part.

Piper: I’m sorry I failed us. I’ll do better next time.

Me: I’m gonna hold you to it. Did we at least get tipsy?

Piper: My lips were numb for a couple hours.

Me: Nice.

Piper: So, Micah Landry?

Me: He’s a friend?

Piper: Why was that a question?

Me: I’m not sure. He’s a friend. We have a lot in common. He’s fun to talk to. That’s it, really.

Piper: Uh huh. Ok.

Me: Have I ever lied to you?

Piper: No, but you did let me dance on top of the bar at Fat Woody’s with toilet paper stuck to my shoe!

Me: Ah, good times.

Me: Tell me something no one knows.

Micah: That’s pretty deep for this early in the morning. Are you okay?

Me: Yeah, it’s been a long week, just feeling overwhelmed and confused. I could really use a distraction, I guess.

Micah: I never actually passed my driving test.

Me: So, you’ve been driving without a license for over ten years?

Micah: No. I got my license. I just never took the driving test.

Me: Explain, please.

Micah: Instead of driving, I fingered the instructor while we were still in the parking lot. She liked it so much, she gave me an A. And a blowjob.

Me: I don’t even know what to say to that.

Micah: Not one of my best moments, I agree, but what 16yo boy would turn that down?

Me: Good point.

Micah: I also wanted to be a dancer on Broadway when I was a kid.

Me: WHAT?!

Micah: I remember saving my allowance so I could order this spandex bodysuit covered in sparkles. I hid it under my bed and would stare at it every night before I went to sleep.

Me: You’re not serious.

Micah: Nope, but you’re distracted now, right?

Me: LOL. Yes, thank you.

Micah: Anytime.

Micah

“ORDER UP!” I YELL THROUGH
the small window, sliding a couple of plates onto the counter. Joe has the weekend off because his daughter is getting married and it’s taking both me and Deacon to fill his spot. We’ve spent the day prepping food and gaining a whole new appreciation for what he does, that’s for sure. Not that we didn’t already appreciate him, but we pretty much have him at worship status right now. I’m dog tired, and from the looks of Deacon across the kitchen, he’s feeling it too.

We recently had to fire our manager at Grinders, our restaurant in Baton Rouge, so it’s been taking up more of our time as well. Between there and Pockets, we’re being stretched thin these days.

“I’ve never been so excited to see Sunday roll around as I am this week,” Deacon says as he stands beside me, assembling a few plates.

“No shit, dude. I feel like I’m dead on my feet.”

“Hey, boss,” Jamie says, waltzing into the kitchen. I groan and roll my eyes before turning around. She’s been relentless in her advances lately, and it’s getting on my last nerve.

“What?” I ask, shooting her a glare. She should be working.

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” she says, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m just back here to tell you a long-legged blonde is out front lookin’ for ya,” she says with a sneer.

I cock an eyebrow at her, wondering why she even bothered coming back here to tell me.

She quickly flashes a ten between her fingers. “A girl’s gotta pay the bills.”

“Tell her I’ll be out in a minute.”

Jamie nods and turns for the door, taking a tray of food and her pissy attitude with her.

“Do you know who it is?” Deacon asks.

“No.”

“Well, don’t ya wanna find out?”

“In a minute.”

“You need to get laid, bro. You’ve been a moody bastard the past few weeks.”

I
have
been moody. But nothing seems to make it better. I tried hooking up with Valerie, but couldn’t even make it to the motel room. Everything about her grated my nerves—her voice, her perfume, even her sticky lipstick—so I dropped her off and made up something about feeling sick.

It probably doesn’t help that Dani infiltrates every facet of my being these days. I hear her voice in the silence. See her when I close my eyes. Sometimes, when I’m trying to go to sleep at night, it’s like I can feel her there with me. I’m glad I didn’t kiss her when she was here because that would’ve made things even worse.

At least I have her text messages. If I’m missing her too bad, I’ll shoot her some crazy text and wait for her response. Sometimes, she’ll text me first. I don’t like when the messages sound sad, though. One night last week, she texted saying she was confused, and I could tell there was more going on than she was admitting. Nights like that, it’s all I can do to keep my ass off a plane headed for New York.

I’ve never been like this—some guy who sits around pining for a girl. I’ve been a fuck-‘em-and-leave-‘em kind of guy. I’ve been upfront about it and completely unapologetic. Having a good time has always been my main objective. Sure, there’ve been a few girls who have been around for more than a one-night stand, like Valerie, but even they know there are no strings attached.

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.