A Graceful Mess (16 page)

“I wish I could, but I know it’s getting late. It’s my birthday, remember? We’re going out. Hey, you should join us.” Darting up from his bed, I jump up and run to grab my phone from the living room. I bend to pick up my phone out of my bag as the front door swings open. Carson is holding a backpack and a jug of water, staring wide-eyed from the doorframe. We hold each other’s gaze; his eyes don’t leave mine. Although my hands are covering my breasts and lady parts, I still feel exposed.

“Grace?” Parker’s voice echoes off of the walls. No one moves or talks. This is the most awkward situation I have ever been in. It feels like a scene straight from one of those movies, where the girl spends the night in a frat house and then does the walk of shame in the morning. I am that girl right now. Although I am not ashamed, it still feels like I’ve been caught red-handed with my hand in the cookie jar. I know there is nothing to be ashamed of, but this is still weird standing in front of him in my birthday suit. How fitting, today of all days.

“Hi.” I shudder in embarrassment. Carson tilts his head back slightly in one of those manly hellos guys do to one another, but no words leave his mouth. Great, he is mad.

“Grace, is someone here?” I hear footsteps and then Parker emerges from the hallway. He is standing in all of his glory. This has officially become a nightmare.

“Bro, what are you doing here?” Parker asks Carson. He doesn’t move his hand or anything to cover his penis that is just hanging out there, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. The sight makes me blush, and I hope no one notices.

“Whoa, dude, cover that shit up. No one wants to see your junk!”

“Whoa, dude, this is my house,” Parker mimics Carson’s tone. “If you don’t want to see it, get out.”

Slowly backing away from the action, I make it to the dark hallway before anyone notices, and run backwards to the bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind me. Dropping to my knees, I cover my mouth with my hand trying to hide the laughter that is bellowing from my lungs. How embarrassing! The testosterone in the living room is a little overwhelming. Noticing I have my phone held tightly in my hand, I open it and see a missed call and text from Maci.

Hey girlie. I know Karen and I pissed you off earlier, I’m sorry! Where are you? You stormed off and then were nowhere to be found. Call me or get your ass home. Despite today, we are still going out! Love you, boo.

I hit reply before I have a chance to collect my thoughts. Today has just taken me on a rollercoaster of emotions. Holding my phone with both hands, I use my thumbs to type.

You wouldn’t believe where I am if I told you, but…because I know you will ask, I will tell you.

Turning my phone around and hitting the camera button. I take a quick shot of myself, from my collarbones up, then press send. My phone rings in my hand seconds later. I don’t want Parker or Carson to hear me, so I crawl across the floor into a small open door, the closet. Sitting on the floor I press the green button and answer the call.

“Hey,” I whisper into the receiver.

“Where are you and why are you whispering? I can hardly hear you.”

“I’m in Parker’s closet.” I try to muffle my laughter.

“What the heck are you doing in there? Wait, why are you there? How did you get there?”

I start from the beginning and tell her everything, all the way up to why I am naked sitting on the floor of a dark closet.

“Well, this is dumb! You’re supposed to be here getting ready. I don’t care what you say or what kind of mood you’re in, we are going to Shameless and we are going to celebrate your birthday!”

Maci’s whining causes me to roll my eyes. Using the long sleeve of a sweatshirt to help pull myself off the floor, I say, “I don’t know what is taking them so long, but you’re right. I know. Okay, let me get dressed and I’ll go out there and ask Parker to bring me home. Love you too. Bye.” Gathering my clothes, I get dressed and brush my fingers through my hair. I know it’s still a mess, but at least it should be somewhat presentable. Walking out of the room, I notice the living room is quiet, but the front door is open. Headlights are radiating off of the glass door separating me from the outside. I grab my purse that’s still wet from being dropped in the puddle, slide my sandals on, and then walk out onto the porch. Parker is now wearing another pair of basketball shorts and is barefoot standing in his driveway. Carson is sitting in the parked car. Walking up beside Parker, I bend down into the window.

“Hey, do you think you can give me a ride?” Parker eyes me as I wait for Carson’s response.

“Yeah, sure. We’re headed to the same place anyway.” He shrugs.

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot you were coming with us tonight. What’s the place called again…Shameless?”

“It’s going to be off the chain!” The sound of Carson hitting the horn startles me. He’s really pumped up about going out tonight. Moving my hand to reach the door, Parker grabs my wrist before my fingertips pull on the handle. His other hand rises and tangles itself in my hair. Pulling my head towards his, he kisses me. His tongue parts my mouth as his hand lets go of my wrist, but grabs ahold of my waist and pulls me closer. I don’t think you can even fit a pen in between us, we are standing so close.

Carson clears his throat, “So…did I miss something? Are you guys together, like, together, together or just fuck buddies?” He says interrupting our kiss.

Parker pulls his head away first, then leans down to make eye contact with Carson and shrugs his shoulders. Before he walks off, he opens the door for me and shuts it once my feet are inside.

“Ask her,” he hollers with a grin on his face, winks, and turns around and walks inside.

Are we together, together?

Carson looks over at me as he puts the car in reverse, and I can feel my cheeks redden. He rolls his eyes and takes off down the road. Leaning my head on the black, leather seat, I take a moment and think about the answer to that question. I mean we have hung out a few times now, and we are casually having sex. I don’t know; does that make us friends-with-benefits or something? That’s doubtful. At least I hope that isn’t what Parker thinks of me. I’m not good with this whole relationship thing, but I do like him. Well, I more than like him. Knowing that I’ve let my guard down little by little, every time we hang out, tells me that much. But I wonder what he thinks about me. Does he think we are dating or are we an official item? After all, no one actually asks people out these days. Right?

Now I’m all confused.

Carson turns up the volume and soon the song on the radio fills my mind, and thoughts of my questionable relationship with Parker fade into the background as Buckcherry hits their chorus.

The look on Carson’s face was priceless. Never once have we been attracted to the same girl, until now. I’m not stupid. I knew he was interested in her the first night I met her at the club, but little does he know, I am following her. Therefore I have seen her turn him down countless times. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

I saw her eyes widen when I said, “Ask her.” He doesn’t have to ask, we all know the answer. We may not be an “official couple,” but she is mine. It’s best that he knows that now anyways. Hopefully he will take the hint and stop gawking at her ass all the time. At least now I have a reason to beat him into next week if I see it happen again.

The car drives off, leaving the house quiet again. Noticing Carson’s backpack, I pick it up and sit it by the door. I’ll bring it to him tonight, because I will be making a guest appearance.

Pulling up to Shameless, it is a giant clusterfuck. There are people lined up a mile down the street. I turn down a dark alley and into an open parking lot. My truck is huge, so I highly doubt anyone will touch it. I call Carson, but there is no answer. Scrolling through my stored contacts, I hit Ramsey’s name. The line rings a few times, but no one picks up. Rolling my eyes, I skip the line and walk to the front. There is a big, black guy and a medium-built, white dude checking IDs. The smaller one nods in my direction, so I walk up closer and put my hand out. Shaking it, the dude checks my license and takes my twenty dollar cover, then unhooks the rope and lets me in. The women screaming in the background remind me of screeching birds.

I’d say the owner is pretty happy. For it being opening night the place is packed. I’m actually surprised at how big it is inside. Looking around for my brother and Ramsey, I don’t see them, so I make my way over to the bar and order a drink. Noticing a petite brunette from across the bar, I give her a quick wink. I’m an honest man, and I would never betray a woman, but a little innocent flirting never hurt anyone. Ignoring the brunette that is now walking over to where I am standing I see the face of an angel dancing behind her.

Grace’s hands are waving around in the air as her body spins around and around. You would think she was at a rave instead of the opening night of a new bar. I can tell she is wasted from the way her body sags against Maci as the song ends. Maci must be pretty trashed too because she is fighting to keep her eyes open. Looking at my watch, I see it is only ten o’clock. They couldn’t have been here that long. I guess they pre-gamed a little too hardcore.

Cupping my hands around my mouth, I shout “Grace,” but she doesn’t hear me. Her legs shift with every step, bringing unneeded attention to her exposed thighs. Normally I’m not the jealous type, even after the whole Kristy cheating ordeal. Hell, I dated around, but nothing serious. But Grace is different. I wish I could pinpoint my attraction to her. I know this situation is no good for either one of us, especially if Mark Jacobs found out, but that doesn’t stop the pull her blue eyes have on me.

My eyes glance over to a dude sitting on a stool a few feet away from where Grace and Maci are dancing. I don’t know why but he looks familiar. Taking in his appearance and swagger, I notice some ink on his hand. The tattoo jogs my memory. I would recognize that tat from anywhere.

GRACE.

On each of his fingers there is a letter tattooed. It’s faded and looks like someone did a shitty job or it’s a jail tat, but it’s there. He doesn’t see me looking, because his eyes are glued on the dancing blonde. I vaguely remember him. I think he was at The Red Saloon the night I first met Grace. But how many women are named Grace in the world? Surely he doesn’t know her. He may be mind-fucking her, but Grace is too innocent to have ever been with a douche with her name on his hand. Feeling a rush of testosterone, I slam my drink onto the bar’s counter and shove my way through the crowd of people until I reach her. My arms reach out and embrace her. Knowing the dude is watching, I give him something to look at. My lips find hers. She tastes of liquor and salt. As soon as my tongue enters her mouth it’s like the music stops. Everyone dancing around us fades, and it’s only the two of us in the large space. My heart pounds in my chest as her hungry mouth opens wider allowing me to explore. Giggles from Maci standing beside us break the moment. When I open my eyes, I look past her shoulder; the stool is now empty. I take it he got the hint.

“Par…ka,” Grace slurs. “Wha...are ya doin? It’s my birfday. Tanks for da birfday smooch.”

“Grace, how much have you had to drink?” I can smell the booze coming from her lips. My jaw clenches waiting for her answer and I can feel my ears getting hot. An indication I am getting mad, fast. Not at her directly, but at the situation. Number one, for some fucking reason I care about her wellbeing. Stranger or not, I’ve already marked her. She is mine. I would be a fool not to admit that. Number two, she is my client’s daughter, who I pray doesn’t cause a scene that gets her face plastered on the front page of the local newspaper. She shrugs her shoulders. Looking over at Spencer, I can see he is wasted too. Who the hell knows where Carson is.

“Come on, Grace. Let me take you home.” My voice is low, but she hears me. Her head moves up and down. No one else notices, but I do. Grabbing her by her elbow, she braces her weight on my side.

“You guys staying or coming with us?”