Liver Let Die (14 page)

Trying to re-create the happy face, Jordan changed directions and moved to the other end of the table where the rest of the gang sat, facing the stage as they watched the wannabe Dolly slaughtering the song.

Who is that next to Victor?
she wondered, staring at the back of an unfamiliar head.

“There you are, Jordan!” Victor exclaimed, his face lighting up when he saw her.

She relaxed and gave him a hug when he jumped up to greet her. “Darn! You guys started without me,” she said, pointing to the two empty margarita pitchers.

“Victor’s already wowed us with his version of ‘Bad to the Bone,’” Michael said, obviously as proud as if his partner were the next American Idol. “Take a load off. Sit next to Alex.” He gestured toward the empty chair next to the stranger.

Alex?

When the man turned to face her and flashed his pearly whites, Jordan’s heart began to beat like a drummer on speed.

“Jordan, meet Alex Montgomery.”

She narrowed her eyes. “We’ve already met.”

Michael turned to the newcomer. “You didn’t mention you already knew our Jordan.”

Alex shrugged, his eyes holding her captive. “I didn’t connect the name,” he said. “We shared lunch one day last week.”

“Great,” Michael said. “Sit, Jordan. We’ve got to get you juiced so we can hear that Shania Twain you did the last time we were here.”

“Not!” Victor joked, pouring a margarita from one of the three full pitchers the waitress had just placed on the table. “Here, sweetie, drink up.”

No way Jordan wanted to sit next to Alex, but other than the one next to Quincy Dozerly, it was the only empty chair. Plopping down as gracefully as she could with his intense stare unnerving her, she decided things could be worse. She could be forced to make small talk with Dozerly while he played “touchy-feely” with Rosie.

Gag me!

She reached for the glass, scolding herself for not absolutely hating being stuck next to Alex.

“Why didn’t you return my calls?” Alex asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

She so wanted to fire back,
Why’d you ransack my apartment?
“Busy, I guess,” she said, squirming in her seat. Up close, his Paul Newman eyes were burning a hole in her brain. She looked away, pretending to be interested in the guy on the stage singing and dancing in a hard-to-watch James Brown imitation.

When the guy spun around, Jordan nearly spit her drink across the table. His T-shirt had pulled out of the back of his waistband, worn low because of his beer belly, and the whole world got an up-close-and-personal look at his “line of demarcation.”

“Think of it as rear cleavage,” Alex said, handing her a cocktail napkin to mop up the spill.

Despite her best efforts, Jordan laughed, blotting the margarita from her chin. “Please God, keep him facing us, or I’ll never get through this drink without making an even bigger fool of myself,” she quipped. The liquor, already warming her insides, had begun to erase the day’s tension and make it easier to talk to her unexpected companion.

“This is becoming an everyday thing.”

“What is?”

“Watching liquids shoot from your nose.” He reached up and wiped a droplet from her cheek.

Trying unsuccessfully to recover some of her dignity, Jordan did the one thing she shouldn’t. She stuck her tongue out at him, a carry-over from growing up with brothers. “A gentleman doesn’t remind a girl about things like that.”

“Who says I’m a gentleman?”

He leaned close enough for Jordan to get a whiff of aftershave, and for a second, she thought he was about to kiss her.

Like a dork, she closed her eyes.

After what seemed like an eternity with no kiss, she glanced up to see him smiling down at her.

“I will if you want me to,” he teased playfully.

Feeling the blush shimmy up her cheeks, Jordan reached for the pitcher. If she had to tolerate this man all night, she’d need help. She glared when he took the pitcher from her and refilled the glass.

“The cat seems to get your tongue a lot, Jordan. Do you want me to kiss you or not?”

The heat consumed her face and she bit down hard on her lower lip. “Look, Montgomery,” she started, searching for some way to come out of this without looking totally lame. “You obviously think there’s some chemistry going on between us. I assure you, it’s wishful thinking.”

Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true, but Jordan wasn’t about to admit she visualized rose petals and silk sheets every time she looked his way.

“I’d suggest you have another drink, too.” She paused briefly before adding, “Or take a cold shower.”

Alex threw back his head and laughed out loud, causing the others to stop talking and look their way. “Jordan wants to sing with me,” Alex lied.

Lola raised her arm in the air. “Yes! But she needs at least one more margarita.”

“That can be arranged,” Jordan said, grateful Alex hadn’t outed her for the idiot kissing thing. She chugged the last half of her current drink and slammed the empty glass in front of him. “Let’s do it!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, before his facial expression turned somber. “Sure you can handle it?”

“You trying to back out of singing with me?” She prayed that was exactly what he was doing. Letting him hear what could never be described as one of her talents was not particularly enticing, especially after she’d already made a complete fool of herself in front of him.

But she didn’t want to be the one to back out of a challenge. She’d like to be able to walk out of this place with at least some of her dignity intact.

“Alex knows the Everly Brothers, Jordan. How about you two get up there and impress us with ‘Dream’?” Victor hollered to be heard above the current karaoke singer.

“I don’t know that one,” Jordan said, adding a dig Alex’s way. “That’s a little before my time.”

Instead of commenting, he grabbed her arm and lifted her off the chair. “Come on. Who doesn’t know ‘Dream’? The words will come up on the screen.” His eyes narrowed. “Unless this is a pathetic copout.”

Jordan whirled around toward the stage, surprised by how dizzy she felt. Three margaritas usually didn’t affect her like this. Then she remembered she’d missed dinner to hurry to the college. She should have stopped at the 7-Eleven for a burrito.

“Well?”

“Bring it on,” she challenged, heading for the stage.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Alex reached over to give her a push up onto the stage. “I’ll take the harmony.”

Jordan’s eyes widened, realizing his hands were on her hips. She prayed he’d be able to boost her up there. How much more embarrassment could she take?

“You’re on,” she said, after he lifted her in a single swoop.

Thank you, Jesus
.

She watched as Alex hashed out the details with the disc jockey, silently praying the song was not in the catalog.

“Ready?” Alex handed her a microphone. “Don’t forget. You have the high part.”

Crap!

When the record began, Jordan surprised herself and held her own. Before long, everyone in the bar was hooting and hollering. There were even a few whistles. As much as she hated to admit it, Alex had a nice voice and canceled out her not-so-nice one.

When the song ended, he picked her off her feet and swung her around. “You did the Everlys proud.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She laughed, taking his hand when he helped her off the stage over shouts from the loosened-up crowd for an encore.

The night turned out to be the best stress reliever Jordan could imagine and a nice ending to a horrendous week. Everyone took turns belting out a song or two. Jordan eventually did her Shania Twain imitation of “Man! I Feel Like a Woman!” complete with a black boa the DJ handed her for effect.

Closing time came way too soon, and everyone began to pile out. After two more margaritas, Jordan was feeling really relaxed and looking at Alex in a whole different light. Brett had always joked she went through three stages when she drank. Giggly, then frisky, but you had to get her home quickly because sleepy soon followed.

“Where are your keys?” Alex asked, helping her weave toward the exit.

“I’ll take her,” Lola said. “We’re all going to the Burger Hut for a late-night snack.”

Jordan groaned. Her empty stomach couldn’t handle a greasy burger right now.

“You go on,” Alex said. “I’ll get her home safely. You guys can check on her when you get back.”

“Jordan?” Lola asked, stepping closer.

“It’s okay, Lola. I just want to climb into bed.” She gasped, hearing her own comment. “I didn’t mean . . .”

“I know what you meant,” Alex responded. “I’m pooped, too. We’ll leave my car in the parking lot and I’ll drive yours home. Tomorrow I’ll pick you up and you can drive me back over here to get it.”

“Okay,” she said, getting another whiff of his aftershave. Calvin Klein’s Obsession. He was wearing the cologne her first real boyfriend had worn, a nice manly fragrance that made her nostalgic. The roses and silk sheets idea snapped back into her brain, and she forced it away once more.

Outside, Jordan said good night to her friends and walked with Alex to her car. After holding the passenger door open for her, he walked around to the other side and slid into the driver’s seat.

Chivalry is not dead!

Maybe Alex wouldn’t have to drive home tonight, she thought, before scolding herself. She’d never been a onenight stand, and she didn’t intend to start now.

The ride to her apartment was long enough for the sleepy stage to set in, and Jordan fought to keep her eyes open and stay semi-alert.

After Alex parked in her spot behind the building, he helped her out of the car. Walking to the entrance, Jordan stumbled and fell into him.

“Whoa! You really did overdo it tonight.”

“I’m fine,” she fired back. “You try walking in heels.”

Alex laughed. “You don’t have heels on, Jordan.”

Again, her cheeks grew hot from yet another idiot remark. Or was it alcohol flaming the fire? “Oh,” she muttered.

As soon as they entered the building, Jordan pointed down the hall. “This way.”

Halfway there a man jumped from the shadows and charged at them. Jordan screamed. Alex let go of her and shoved the stranger, knocking him backward. The man recovered and pushed back before racing past them. In a flash, he opened the door and disappeared.

“Who was that?”

“I have no idea,” she said, her stomach in her throat. Too many weird things were happening to her to pretend it was coincidence, but she wasn’t about to share her suspicions with Alex.

“Let’s get inside your apartment, and I’ll call the police.”

“No,” she answered quickly.

Alex’s brow furrowed. “Why not?”

“I’m too tired to deal with them right now. Besides, the more I think about it, the more I’m sure it was someone more afraid of us than we were of him.” She sighed, wondering if this had anything to do with her visit to the college. Had Derrick sent someone to scare her? “Please, Alex, just open the door. I’m exhausted.”

He held her stare for a few seconds before doing as she’d requested. Safely inside, Jordan stumbled again and Alex caught her. Lifting up on tippy toes, she touched her lips to his. When he didn’t respond, she snaked her arms around his neck and pressed her body into him.

This time he did react, groaning as he kissed her back. Jordan couldn’t remember ever falling so deeply into a kiss, wanting so badly to continue doing it for hours.

But Alex apparently had other plans.

He pulled away and walked to the door, turning to face her one more time. “I have to get home, Jordan. Get some sleep, and I’ll be back in the morning around ten with coffee. Lock the door behind me.”

Then he was gone, and Jordan once again felt the sting of rejection. Even though she barely knew the guy, this rebuff hurt almost as much as when Brett tossed her out like dirty dishwater.

She’d literally thrown herself at him, and he’d passed. What red-blooded man turned down sex? She’d felt his body respond to hers. Why then was she standing alone feeling so unloved in her apartment?

“Screw him!” she said aloud. He would probably have gotten her into bed then robbed her on the way out.

She walked to the door and slid the chain over, her mind wandering back to the man who had confronted them in the hallway. She hadn’t been able to see his face clearly with the hoodie, but for an instant, he’d made eye contact with her. There was no denying the man was tall and strong enough to be a match for Alex.

What was it about those eyes?

They should have called the police as Alex had suggested, but then, she would’ve had to tell them things she’d rather not just yet.

Specifically, her encounter with Derrick Young.

She wasn’t even sure there was something to tell except that the quarterback was abusing his girlfriend. She made a mental note to talk with Brittney again and convince her to tell her parents. If that failed, she’d find a way to tell them herself.

She stripped off her clothes and threw on an old T-shirt and gym shorts before slipping under the covers. As relaxed as she was from the alcohol, something kept her from falling asleep.

Something about the guy in the hallway.

What was it?

She was sure she’d seen him before, but where?

CHAPTER 11