Rex (3 page)

“Oh, sorry.” I tug at the corner of my lip, feeling like a complete idiot. “Yeah, I do. Ryder’s a good friend of mine. Anyway, I should go.” With that, I push back my chair, making my way to the door.

“Wait a second,” he shouts out above the roar of the customers. “That’s it?”

“Yeah, that’s it.” I don’t even know if he hears me and I really don’t care. I keep walking until I’m outside, the air warm though a sudden chill has me pulling my jacket tighter around my shoulders.

Because what else is there?

Wow, and I thought I was fucked up. I think I may have met my match. She’s got anger, bitterness, and pain written all over her. Wears it like a badge. She doesn’t need to ink her skin. It seeps from her pores, leaks out into the atmosphere, probably infecting everyone around her.

After she walks out the door, I polish off my beer and take a seat back at the bar. I tap on the counter with my index finger, signaling for another drink and information.

I want information.

Ryder sets another beer down in front of me before continuing to serve other customers. I should be home in bed. But instead, I’m sitting here, waiting to get Ryder’s attention—because I’m curious. Even though curiosity ends up killing the cat.

My hand darts out to grab his arm when he finally makes his way over. “Hey, you gotta sec?”

“Sure, let me just get the gal over there her drink.” He walks away and my gaze follows to the brunette bombshell sitting on the last chair. Ringlet curls frame her face, green eyes, and as I go lower, lead me to cleavage that suddenly makes me forget what I’m doing here.

I hop off the stool and rake a hand through my hair, making my way toward her. With a subtle shove, I squeeze my way in-between her and the guy attempting to sidle up next to her. Leaning an elbow on the bar, I take a lazy stroll over her body before coming back to her eyes. “Can I buy you a drink, beautiful?”

She fingers a curl, twirling it around seductively, my mouth watering in response. She’s got plump lips that would fit perfectly around my cock—and she looks like she’s interested.

“Sure. I’m drinking a gin and tonic,” she says, my dick twitching when her tongue skips across her lower lip.

“Hey, Ryder,” I shout, “when you get a chance, another gin and tonic for the lady.”

“Lady,” she scoffs, “that makes me feel old. And, believe me,” her fingers toy with the buttons on her blouse, “there’s nothing about me that’s old.” She edges forward, shimmying her breasts in front of me, and I raise an interested brow.

“How about you tell me your name?” I ask, forcing my eyes back up to her face.

“I’m Diane, and you are—”

No longer interested.

Diane is the name of the woman I despise most in this world, so she basically just poured a bucket of ice water all over me and my hard-on. It’s a done deal. There’s no way I’m screwing someone named Diane. Not gonna happen.

“You know,” I tap my watch a few times, “I just remembered I have somewhere I need to be. Sorry, beautiful,” I apologize, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek so I don’t offend her. I throw some money on the bar. “Later, Ryder.”

“See ya, man.”

The slight chill in the air outside only adds to the pure hatred brewing inside of me. My mother. She’s never far away. I can never distance myself enough from her. Reminders lurk around every corner—of what she did, of who she is. What kind of a woman cheats on their husband repeatedly, or isn’t tuned in to the fact that her nine-year-old son is being molested. My fists clench at my sides while my feet kick up dirt on the sidewalk. She should have known. She should have been there. Instead, my brother is dead at the hands of pills that he took from
her
medicine cabinet.

She sickens me and I’ll never forgive her.

I’m fucking pissed by the time I make it to my apartment. Not only am I angry, I’m horny. And now I’m screwed, and definitely not in the way I was hoping for tonight.

The door slams shut behind me and I toss my keys on the coffee table. My apartment is small—a one bedroom with a living room, bathroom, and galley kitchen. This place is definitely nothing to write home about, but it’s what I can afford right now and works for me. It’s nothing like Hunter’s penthouse on the Upper West Side. But then again, I’m not the owner of a hundred million dollar software company either.

Plodding into the bedroom, I shuck off my shoes, jeans, and t-shirt. I literally collapse onto the mattress, exhaustion overtaking me, yet I’m restless. I’m never gonna be able to sleep when I’m this worked up and my dick is hard. Fuck.

I could call Aileen, who used to work at the shop. We’ve hooked up before, but it’s been a while and she tends to get attached. Attachments don’t work for me. Straight, uncomplicated sex does. But tonight, it looks like I’m on my own.

My hand travels down to the waistband of my boxers and I reach inside, gripping my shaft that’s now hard as freaking steel. One look at the brunette’s tits and I was a goner. I stroke my cock while visions of ripping her shirt open invade my mind, licking and sucking her nipples until the tips harden and she’s whimpering like crazy. I can almost smell her pussy, completely soaked as she climbs over me, riding my face. Her slick juices cover my mouth, my tongue, my cheeks, until I can’t get enough.

My hand speeds up as I imagine her pinching her nipples, moaning, my tongue delving further into her wetness. Her lustful gaze bears down on me, watching, as I lick her clean. I groan, my eyes clamping shut, hips bucking off the bed, breathing completely out of control as my orgasm tears through me. And then I open them, startled, realizing the eyes staring back at me didn’t belong to her.

They belong to Blondie.

“So, how’s the event business going?” Olivia asks me as we sit in a booth inside Heavenly Lattes. Coffee is something neither of us can get through the day without and is pretty much on par with air. Trent, the owner of the shop, brings over something on the house every time we’re here. That’s because we’ve been customers for eight years.

This is where Olivia and I met. It was my first day in Manhattan, and I was desperate as always for coffee. We literally bumped into one another. Once we started chatting, we discovered an instant connection and have been attached at the hip ever since. She knows everything about me and is so much more than just a friend. She’s like the family I always wanted but never had.

“It’s very busy. I have six events next month, and then the following month I’m traveling to Portland. I haven’t been there but have heard good things about it so I’m excited.”

Fisting a hand on her hip, she tilts her head to the side, scrutinizing me with those deep, blue eyes. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

I shake my head and smile. “You know, it’s rather irritating that I can’t pull anything over on you. You’re like my own personal lie detector test.”

“Yup, and the clock’s ticking, so what’s going on?” she asks, her fingers rapping lightly on the table.

“I’ve been thinking about the last conversation I had with my dad, a little over two months ago. He was his ice-cold self on the phone, as usual, and it was the same useless discussion we always have. But, when he brought up my mother and the divorce, do you know what popped into my head?” Tension in my jaw makes its way to my whole face and I blanch. “I was thinking about when my mother sat me down, I don’t even remember how old I was, maybe seven, and told me there was no Santa Claus. She said she didn’t want me forming unnecessary emotional attachments and having expectations for something that wasn’t real.” I let out a laugh, but there’s no smile to go along with it. “I guess she didn’t want me forming emotional attachments to real people either.”

Olivia gives my hand a sympathetic squeeze, offering me the courage to continue. “I don’t know. Something in his voice gave me the sense that he’s upset about the divorce. Go figure.” I curl the straw wrapper around my finger, trying to sort out my feelings. “I honestly thought there was no love lost between them. But I guess he still loves her, as twisted as that sounds. Anyway,” I exhale a breath, “love sucks.”

“So that’s your new mantra now, huh?” She lifts her fork to her mouth, savoring the taste of the chocolate. “Well, I have a solution that will lift your spirits,” she says, a garbled mouthful of frosting obstructing her next words.

“I’m sorry, come again, I couldn’t quite understand you.” I laugh. “You’re enjoying that cake a little too much.”

She sets her fork down gently on her plate. “Okay, so Hunter and I are going to the club tonight, and I want you to come.”

My head falls back against the booth. “What, so I can sit alone at the bar while you two are dancing the night away? No thanks.”

“Nope.” She pops her lips together, grinning mischievously, and I know I’m in trouble.

I sit up straight, eyes pinching together. “I sense a scheme of sorts. What have you got up your sleeve?”

“Well….” She scoots closer, clasping her hands together on the table as if she’s about to deliver mind-blowing information. “Remember I told you Hunter’s brother moved to the city. He’s going to invite him along tonight. I think you’ll have fun. He’s seriously hot,” she says with that same Cheshire grin, “and he’s got tattoos. You like them twisted, and he’s definitely not run of the mill.”

I cringe, remembering her last attempt to set me up and how badly it ended. “Liv, I appreciate it, but remember when you tried to hook me up with Victor, that guy from the salon you go to—”

She interrupts, placing a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. “I know, but how was I supposed to know he wasn’t into women. I promise you,” she makes an
X
with her finger across her chest, “his brother is
not
gay. Plus, I’m not setting you up. He’s not relationship material anyway. It’s just to hang out for one night and have fun. Besides,” she winks, “he’s nice to look at.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it. Oh,” I snap my fingers in front of me, “get this. So after that call with my dad and this whole divorce thing, I started thinking a lot about maybe getting a tattoo. And last night, for whatever reason, it hit me, and I decided to be spontaneous. So, I went to this tattoo shop and the asshole there wouldn’t tattoo me.”

“What do you mean? Why not?”

“He didn’t like the idea of my tattoo,” I reply, even though I’ll never admit a part of me is grateful. He was probably right. It was a shitty idea.

“What was it?” She stares at me over the rim of her cup, blue eyes steeped in curiosity.

“Well, I told him I wanted
love sucks
.” I spit out the words, waiting for the impending lecture, but it never comes. Instead, she starts laughing.

“You told him you wanted
what
?” Her eyes grow wide, shoulders shaking with laughter, and now I’m getting irritated.

“What’s so funny?” I hiss.

She rolls her eyes, lips quirking at the corners. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t blame him for not tattooing you. You want that on your skin permanently, V? What happens when you fall in love?” she asks, still looking at me like I’ve grown two heads.

Obviously, this isn’t a fight I’m going to win so I might as well play along. “Well, then I’ll cross it out and put
love’s grand
.”

“Oh, V,” she says, patting my hand. “You really need a night out.”