Mine to Steal (Mine to Love) (38 page)

My car is parked next to hers
, and I watch her walk back to the swings. She sits down and wipes her eyes as I turn the ignition. The car roars to life and she glances over her shoulder, but I throw the car in reverse to get away as quick as I can. I came out here, hoping she would tell me why she made me leave, or why she believes him. Hell, I had hoped I would be handing over all the information I collected over the last week, but now I don’t care. I wish I didn’t care.

As I reach the park entrance, I pull out my cell and shoot a text to Jett
telling him I won’t be home.

Jett: How did it go?

Me: Like shit

Jett: So what now?

Me: Nothing. It’s over

Jett: Did you give her the file?

Me: She’s engaged.

Jett: So is that a no?

There’s nothing more to say, and if there was, it wouldn’t change anything.
Wired Spirits
isn’t a far drive and although I’m not one to drink alone, at this point in time, I don’t give a shit. I doubt I’ll be alone for long anyway.

When I got here, the place was practically empty, but two hours later, people are filing in which leaves little space at the bar. There have been a few people that have tried to reach around me to place their orders, but I don’t like strangers in my personal space. Hell, I don’t like much in my personal space.

There’s a woman with long, dark brown hair sitting with some friends at the opposite end of the bar, and she keeps giving me
the
look. Every time she thinks I’m checking her out, she sticks her chest out and flips her hair over her shoulder. And every time I continue scanning the options in front of me, which don’t include her. She ends up with a scowl on her face.
This one would be easy.

The bartender comes by and I point to my empty shot glass. He drops off shot number four? Six? I stopped counting at three because tonight, I’m praying for the hangover that I know I’ll have tomorrow.

The brunette walks over and stands between my legs and gives me a once over. She licks her lips and bites the corner of her mouth as she smiles seductively. She grabs the shot and lifts it to her lips, but I grab it from her hands and down it while she tries to pout. “Why haven’t you come over to talk to me?”

“Was I supposed to?” I ask without a trace of interest.

“I’ve seen you looking at me.” She places a hand around my neck and smiles, which garners some catcalls from her friends down the way.

Her hand is small and cold when I pry it off my neck
. “Not tonight.”

“Whoever she is,
she isn’t worth it,” she argues, but she doesn’t know anything about my situation.

“And neither are you
.” I gently push her off me and turn back to the bar, but not before she spews her venom.

“Fuck you, asshole
,” she says as she scurries off.

“I’ve heard worse,” I mutter, reaching
for the beer that continues to warm in front of me.

“Why don’t you slow down,” another soft female voice says as her hand reaches out to take the shot glass out of my hand.

“And, why don’t you find some other asshole to save,” I argue as I grab the vessel back and down the amber liquid. The beer is warmer than I’d like, but I make my point. “I’m sure someone else needs a babysitter.”

She hits my arm before taking a seat next to me and her knee nudges mine. “Trey Miller, what the hell is going on? You text and
then leave me some crazy message I could barely understand. Hell, all I could make out was
Wired Spirits
. So I told Ryan I’d be back because I wanted to check on you.”

I look over and see the blond
-haired woman I saw in the same bar around this time last year, but seeing her doesn’t have the same impact it did then. “Emogen!” I yell, throwing an arm around her neck. “You’re here,” I say with a grin, although I’m confused by her presence. “Why are you here? 

“How many of these have you had?”
she asks as she lifts an empty shot glass for visual effect and waves her hand in front of her nose. “You reek of liquor.”

“Well, I should hope so,” I slur, waving to the bartender who shakes his head and retreats to the other end of the bar.
Asshole.
“We need one for the lady,” I yell, pointing at Em.

“No,” she shakes her head, dismissing my gift of alcohol
. “The lady doesn’t need one.”

“Just
gimme hers then.” I point to the bartender, who turns his back again.

“What’s going on with you?”

“I’m celebrating,” I explain. “C’mon, Em.” I grab her hand. “Let’s go dance.” I try to walk to the dance floor, but she remains rooted to her seat.

“So what are you celebrating? Last time I talked to you, you told me we aren’t friends and not to contact you.”

“We’re shellebrating because the girl I love is marrying someone elshe.”

“Trey,” she shakes her head and dread fills her eyes, “you don’t love me.”

“No, Emogen - not you,” I slur and wave off her thoughts. I drape my arm around her shoulder and laugh, “Doubt.”

“Doubt?”

“Not Doubt,” I laugh as I try to correct myself. “Faith.”

“Okay, back up and start from the beginning, would ya?”

“Faith. I love her. She pisses me off. And hell if she doesn’t fight with me all the damn time.”

“And you love her?”
she asks, and I can tell she thinks I’m insane.

“Em
.” I lean my forehead to hers and watch as her eyes widen with shock. “I’m in love with her, and she’s going to marry someone else. Why do y’all do that to me?”

“What are you talking about, Trey? Does Faith know how you feel?”

“Yes. I mean, I told her, but,” I shake off her words, “she doesn’t care anyway.”

“How do you know?”

“Because her boyfriend has told her so many lies she believes him.”

“
Wait a minute; I’m lost.”

“Stay
wiff me here, ‘kay?” I sit down to explain to her. “Faith works for my old company - Well, not my company, but where I used to work - but that’s not the point. Her boyfriend is a douchenozzle and they work for the same company. The same damn company. I can’t stand the guy.”

“Yeah, I get that,” she interjects waving for me to get to the point.

“Anyway, supposedly she had a crush on me when she was a kid, but I didn’t know about it. But still,” I shake my hand, “not the point. We had to work together for a shared client, and I fell for her. Can you believe that shit?”

“What about the boyfriend?”

I snap my finger and point it at Em.

“That’s right. So they have
an ‘open’ relationship,” I sound off with air-quotes when I say open. “She was falling for me.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she whispered that she loves me,” I mutter, hoping she doesn’t hear, but her wide-eyed expression tells me she heard it all.

Em is taken aback by my admission as
her surprise registers. “She told you she loves you?”

“She was talking in her sleep.”

“Okay so, in her sleep she says she loves you, but she’s marrying this other guy? Why is she with him then?”

“He lied and told her that I went behind her back to steal her account and made her look bad. But the thing is, I didn’t. It was
him. He schemed to make her look bad and take her accounts.”

“Why haven’t you told her any of this?”

“She won’t listen to me.”

“You’re a mess, Trey. I wouldn’t listen to you either.”

“Anyway, that’s what happened and now I’m here throwing myself a little party. See that one over there,” I nod to the brunette that gives me a death stare. “She wants to go home with me.”

“Okay,” Em flags the bartender. “Why don’t we get out of here and get some coffee? Sober you up so we can figure this mess out?”

“Fine.” I look at the bartender and wave my credit card in the air to close out my tab so we can head next door to the odd coffee bar.

Bean There
is a tiny hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that is a little too hippie for my taste, but the shots I’ve consumed leave me with not a care in the world. Em orders two coffees while I grab a table.

There’s
a sign that it’s open mic night, and I roll my eyes while some people walk past the stage, which is nothing more than a cleared out corner of the coffeehouse. When we walked in, a braless woman in a long skirt was singing some folk-sounding song while she pounded a tambourine. Her performance ends as Em walks over with coffees in hand.

“Why this place?” I ask, taking a coffee from her.

“Because the people here won’t think twice if you act like an ass.”

They announce
someone that sounds more like a wrestling maneuver than a name. He grabs a guitar and his accent is thick while he tells the audience about the song he’s about to perform.

“How are you and Ryan doing?” In the times we talked before, I never asked about him, but things
are different now and she seems happy.

“We’re good, thanks.” Her smile is so big as she continues, “
Can I tell you something?”

“Shoot
.” I sit lean forward waiting to hear what’s so smile-worthy.

“I’m pregnant.”

“I thought Lang was pregnant,” I look at her with a furrowed brow.

She laughs and nods her head, “She had her baby last week
, and I told Ryan that day that we were expecting.”

Hearing her news makes me smile, because I know what she lost before. “I’m really happy for the both of you.”

“Thanks.” She looks to the stage to listen to the guy singing, but it’s brief. She turns her attention back to me. “Why are you letting this one get away, Trey? I mean, if you feel this strongly for her, why give up?”

“I can’t give up on something I never had.”

“But if she feels for you what you say, you owe it to yourself and to her, to put it out there and see what happens.”

“And how do you propose that I do this? She hates me.”

She takes a sip of her drink and smiles. “Does she love you or hate you?”

“I think it probably depends on the day.”

“What do you want?”

“I want her,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “I want Faith, but she’s not mine, Em.”

She winks with a devious grin. “And that’s why it’s called stealing.”

* * *

It was only a few months ago I gave Emogen my philosophy on men and women being friends, but when I needed a friend most, she was there. I watch her get into a cab and drive away, but it was different saying goodbye.

Standing on the corner, I feel more sober and hopeful than I did when I walked into the bar earlier. I’ll have to get Jett to drive me back here tomorrow to pick up my car, because I’m still in no shape to drive. Two coffees and a bottle of water later, my perspective on things with Faith hasn’t changed, but my options have.

The cab drops me off in front of my place, and I fumble with the keys to gain entrance. There’s a note scrawled in Jett’s handwriting on the counter.

Faith called tonight. I told her you were out, but she wants to talk to you. Give her a call.

I grab my laptop and open up a blank document with the intention of writing Faith a message, but all I can do is stare at the blinking cursor. Where do I begin?

Faith,

If someone told me two months ago I would meet and fall for the most irritating woman I’ve ever encountered, I would have believed one part of that - the irritating part. The falling was an unexpected surprise. You
told me earlier we’re friends, but I have to tell you I’m not your friend. I’ve done the friend thing and I suck at it.

There’s a reason I’m twenty-eight and the longest relationship I’ve ever had is only a few weeks; I don’t fight to keep it. You aren’t mine, but this is
me - fighting for you.

When I saw you at Ale’s Well, I wasn’t lying when I
admitted you looked familiar; but then again, you already know that. Don’t you? I saw you the night before at Wired and I had to get closer to you. You were so relaxed and sexy on the dance floor with your friends but I needed to see your face. I didn’t recognize the look that night, but when I think back, I do. You knew exactly who I was and you wanted to be in my arms as much as I wanted you there. And when you kissed me, it wasn’t because you were drunk, but because you wanted me.

After “meeting,” I had a vague memory of you, but I still couldn’t reconcile who you were with who
you are. But the first time I went to your apartment, I saw the pictures of you and Lennox and I remembered. I remembered that awkward little kid who ran into me on the street after school one day. The look you had in your eyes was pure terror, and I saw it again today when I asked you if you are in love with Brad. You never gave me an answer, and I know why.