Taking Mine (15 page)

Her deviousness is astounding in the most horrific way. On Monday, I canceled lunch with her to finish a paper that was due, and I happened to run into Matt in the library. When Kaley brought me a smoothie out of the kindness of her heart and saw me sitting with him, she was kind of pissed. She didn’t say she was, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out when Kaley’s being pissy. Like right now.

“Fine,” I say. “I'll meet you there.”

I wait for everyone to leave so that I can try to talk to Justin alone and figure out what's going on with him. I pack up slowly, not wanting to jump him with questions the second we're alone. He's tapping his pen against the arm of the couch, staring at the wall on the other side of the room, not making a move.

I clear my throat. “Justin.” My voice is low, but it still sounds like a wrecking ball came in and demolished half the apartment.

“Lilly.”

“Is everything okay?”

He looks at me, his face purposefully blank. “Are you seeing that Matt guy?”

I'm so caught off guard that it takes a second for me to register what he said. It’s almost as if he’s…jealous.

“We haven’t made any official plans or anything.”

He nods once and stands, dropping his books on the coffee table. “Have fun tonight.”

And that's all he says as he walks into his bedroom and shuts the door behind him, leaving me to excuse myself.

THE STING OF JUSTIN'S DISMISSAL
lingers as I walk into the bar. It's empty, considering it’s the official start of finals week. Lance is already talking up a girl by the dartboards, and Kaley's in the midst of some jocks. Of course they're not worried about midterms when half the professors pass them regardless. But overall, nothing special or interesting is happening, and the last place I want to be is here.

I'm already taking a step backward when Kaley spots me. “Oh no you don't,” she says, linking an arm through mine. “You've been MIA since the beginning of the semester. Tonight, you're obligated to have fun.”

Grudgingly, I let her lead me to the bar. I think about planting my feet and finding out how far she's going to take this. I smile at the image of her dragging me across the floor as I try to claw my way out.

“Margarita on the rocks?” the bartender says, already familiar with Kaley's drink of choice.

“No,” I say for her. “I'm not carrying you home tonight.”

She holds up her hands in surrender. “A beer, please.”

The bartender looks to me and I order a cherry soda.

“What's the obligatory amount of time I need to be here?”

She muses, touching the tip of her chin. “Until I’m satisfied that you’ve made a valiant effort.”

Figuring I’m going to be here for a while, I go ahead and take a seat on one of the barstools. The bartender slides each of our drinks over and begins wiping the already clean countertop, busying himself for the slow night.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on between you and Justin?”

“Nope.”

“It’s socially unjust to withhold this kind of information from your best friend.”

“There’s no information because there’s nothing going on.”

“Sure, and that’s why you’re always staring at each other when you think no one is looking.”

That’s not true.

“It’s true,” she says, reading my thoughts.

One of the jocks calls her name, needing another person for a game of billiards. She’s indecisive, torn between the fun on the other side of the bar and really getting the inside scoop on my nonexistent love life.

“Go,” I say, shooing her away.

“Are you going to leave?”

I roll my eyes. “No. Now go.”

She sighs, and for a moment I wonder if there’s another reason she wanted me to tag along, but she leaves before I get the chance to explore further. I’m left with me, my drink, and staring at my reflection in the mirror behind the bar for company.

“Your friend ditched you?” the bartender asks, picking up my drink and wiping away the condensation underneath it.

“It’s okay. It’s kind of her MO.”

“Sounds like a great friend.”

“She’s not so bad. We’ve both been kind of flakey lately.”

He stops cleaning and leans on his elbows. “That explains why I’ve never seen you around. Your friend comes in a few times a week.”

That’s more than I was aware of. I look over my shoulder and see her laughing at a guy demonstrating a trick shot behind his back. The number of males currently vying for her attention is ridiculous.

“She comes alone?”

He nods in Lance’s direction. “They always come in together, but they don’t always leave together.”

I don’t need him to elaborate. “You’re just full of all kinds of nifty information, aren’t you?”

“My life consists of this bar five nights a week. Watching people drink is the only hobby I have time for.” He smiles, a little bit of shyness creeping in.

He’s charming. He knows how to put just the right amount of effort into a smile to be likable. And it’s so much different from Justin’s, where he only smiles when he feels like it, and it’s always genuine. He has no charm, at least in the sense that being himself leaves more to the imagination than the boy standing on the other side of this bar.

“You forgot to mention flirting with customers.”

Almost as if my thoughts had conjured him, Justin takes the seat to the left of me, shooting daggers at the bartender before landing on me. The dark circles under his eyes throw me off. In the hour we’ve been apart, they appear to have gotten darker than when we were at his apartment. I knew he was tired, but I didn’t know he was
that
tired. I can’t recall his eyes being so deep.

“You know him?” The bartender leans back and points at Justin.

Justin doesn’t give me a second to speak, ordering a whiskey on the rocks. It’s more of a demand, but the bartender drops his towel, reaching for a bottle under the counter.

“Single malt?”

“Bourbon,” Justin says, his tone sedated, holding no weight.

“I didn’t know you drank hard liquor,” I say, watching the auburn liquid being poured.

The glass is placed in front of Justin and the bartender walks away, picking up his rag to continue his ritual. “Yeah, well,” he says, taking a gulp of the liquid downing half the volume in one swallow. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

A slew of words fly through my mind that I’d like to say to him, but I tamp them down, figuring he’s got to be like this for a reason. I quit trying to figure out Justin weeks ago. Sometimes he’s happy-go-lucky, other times serious, but rarely has he been this down.

I signal the bartender, smiling at his reluctance as he walks toward me, and order myself the same drink. Well, though. ‘Cause let’s face it: I’m cheap.

Justin watches me sniff the dark liquid and take a sip. He cracks a smile when I choke.

“Why can’t you pick something fun to drink? Like a mimosa.”

He downs the rest of his glass and signals for a refill. “I need a reminder of why I hate alcohol.”

“Because you don’t want to be like your dad?”

His head snaps in my direction, eyes hard. It’s the first time I’ve been on the receiving end of his anger, and it’s more potent than I thought. He doesn’t say anything as he finishes off his second drink. “I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you later.”

I reach for his shoulder, catching his t-shirt in my hand. “You just got here.”

“And now I’m leaving.”

“Not until you talk to me.” His entire body tenses, readying for a fight.

“Talking isn’t going to fix anything, Lilly. If that was the case, I would fucking talk you out of my system.”

I release the grip on his shirt. “You’re right.”

All the fight I had in me a second ago diminishes as quickly as it came. I pick up the remainder of my scotch and throw it back. A groan rumbles from Justin, annoyance being its epicenter. He wraps his arm around my waist, lifting me off the barstool and placing my feet on the ground.

“What the hell.”

He grabs my hand, pulling me toward the exit. I stumble over my feet, trying to keep up. Kaley shoots daggers at him as we pass the pool tables, and I shake my head at her to stay.

“Justin,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm even though I’m shaking. Not from anger but adrenaline.

“I’m not going to leave knowing you’re just going to get shit-faced drunk and there’s no one to look after you.”

“I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about.”

“Haven’t heard that before. If I wanted another overprotective brother, I’d just clone Kip.”

He stops mid stride, making me run face first into his chest. His laugh is almost manic. “I guarantee you I’m the furthest thing from your brother.”

Without another word, he turns back around and heads back to his apartment. We’re already at the halfway mark. I know Justin won’t actually force me anywhere. If I choose, I can turn back around, go back to the bar or to my car, and call it a night. On second thought, the whiskey seems to have settled in my stomach, leaving a wake in my head. Driving probably isn’t in my best interest. Deciding the latter, I trudge on behind him.

By the time we reach his apartment, neither of us has spoken a word in the entire block over. His posture is wrung tight, like a rubber band stretched to its capacity. It's like we ran the entire way here instead of walking, considering our breaths are harsh, anger still very much alive. I don’t even flinch when he slams the door behind me.

I walk straight to his fridge and pull out a beer. I open it by the time he reaches me, and he pulls it from my lips. “Stop.”

“You stop,” I say, pulling the beer back.

I’m poking the bear, I know this, but I really, really want to. Call it the weeks of pent up frustration, or the countless times I’ve replayed our kiss in my head, or it very well could be the teasing words he said the night he dropped me off from bowling. Hell, it might be his freaking pen chewing. Call it retribution. But at this point, I’m the one about to snap.

He rips the bottle from my hand and throws it in the sink, making glass and froth splatter up against the backsplash. “You’re acting like a child.”

“Stop treating me like one.”

“Since when does making sure you get home safe make me the bad guy?”

“Since you refuse to tell me what the hell is going on with you.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a step away from me. He lets his arm drop, insolent. “What are you talking about, Lilly?”

“I don’t know,” I say, throwing up my hands. “How about why you’ve been walking around like someone killed your dog? Or why you’re so adamant to defend me when you don’t even want anything to do with me? You don’t get the right to chase off someone who’s flirting with me when you’ve made it perfectly clear there’s nothing between us.”

“There it is,” he says, pointing at me. “This has nothing to do with me trying to make sure you’re safe. Why can’t you listen to me when I say I can’t do a relationship right now?”

“Who said I ever wanted a relationship!”

The silence that descends after my outburst is deafening. His face is red, partially due to the amount of alcohol running through him, and partially due to the amount of yelling that just occurred. A vein throbs on the edge of his temple. Acting on impulse, I place my thumb against it, trying to slow the pounding there.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry for whatever you’re going through right now. I’m sorry you feel like you have to go through it alone. And I’m sorry I’m making it worse. That originally wasn’t my intention.”

His mouth is opened slightly and our breaths converge between us. He pushes me up against the counter, and less than a second later his lips are on mine. Our mouths clash, uncoordinated, and our teeth hit from the force. His tongue immediately pushes into mine, and it elicits a moan. His hips press hard against mine, pinning me back as I tug on his shirt, pulling it up. He pulls back long enough to help me, but he doesn’t waste any time before his lips are back. Forcefully, he lifts my shirt up over my chest, exposing my bra.

Lifting me, he places me on the breakfast bar, making my chest level with his. His lips trail over my neck and skip over the shirt bunched there, pulling my bra down to expose my breasts. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but all I can think is how incredibly hot this is. His mouth lands on one breast and he wraps his arms around my back, arching my body into his.

He nips me, and I grab his hair, yanking his head back. My teeth clamp down on his lip in return. He takes my punishment with a guttural sound, only making me want more. I lace my fingers through his belt and undo it, pulling it through its loops. He finishes off my work, undoing the button and pulling down the zipper as I undo mine. He grabs the back of my knees, pulling me forward, causing me to lie back against the cool tiles. I lift my hips as he drags my jeans over them until they’re on the floor with his shirt.

I’m waiting on a comment about my lack of underwear, but when I look down, I see nothing but fire in his eyes. There's something dark. Need or something he’s chasing. But I’m pretty sure I’m chasing it, too.