Never (6 page)

I moved closer, my voice carrying but less confrontational. “Lucas, please open the door.”

The deadbolt clicked and the door pulled inward.

When I saw he was standing there in a t-shirt and jeans, holding a beer and perfectly fine, I could have ripped his head off. I waited for my apology, some sort of explanation, but he just stood there, glaring at me.

Since he had no intention of inviting me in, I just stepped inside, barely waiting for him to close the door. “I guess it’s a good thing that you’re still alive. Incapable of answering your phone maybe, but—”

“What do you want?” he slurred, the question practically coming out as a single word.

“Are you kidding me?” I scoffed. I didn’t even know where to begin. Which should I address first, him falling off the face of the earth or choosing to get trashed instead of having dinner with me?

I opened my mouth to lay into him, but my eyes glazed over the sea of empty beer cans around him and I was speechless. His place had never been spotless, but this was something else completely. I could barely see the floor because nothing but crushed aluminum gleamed up at me. There was no way he could have amassed this in a day, which meant he’d been living like this. Living off beer.

I turned back to him, ignoring his glare. “Lucas, what the hell happened?” I took a step in his direction. I knew he was still on the outs with his mother. “Is this your mom? Your dad?”

“This?” He gestured around the room and staggered a bit, gripping the back of a chair to steady himself. “This is all you, baby.”

“Excuse me?” I frowned, sure he’d drunk himself to the point of complete and utter delusion. “How does this one man frat party have anything to do with me?”

His blue eyes glimmered as he pulled the scowl from his mouth and swapped it for a smile that made my blood run cold. ‘You’re really gonna play dumb?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“How about who?” he said, his handsome features freezing over. “Who the fuck is Lance Jackman?”

“Lance?” I repeated, the english TA’s face popping in my head. “Oh, Lance. He’s just the TA for Dr. Suarez’ class.”

“And why in the hell are you snuggling up to him in the library. Extra credit?”

My mouth fell open in horror. “I saw him in the library, that’s it. I wasn’t snuggling up to anyone!” I picked my jaw off the floor and matched his anger, pointing my finger at him like a dagger. “You’re the last person that needs to be talking about snuggling up after I caught you and Candi reminiscing about the good ole days.”

“Don’t turn this back on me,” he snapped, volume rising. “You have
no
idea what this relationship means to me. What I’ve given up.” He stopped as soon as it came out, realizing what he said. “Juliet, I didn’t meant that.”

“Just what have you given up for me, Lucas?” I said, my throat on fire, chest so tight I could barely breathe.

He kicked a crushed can across the room. “I didn’t mean that. I’m totally fucked up and I don’t know what I’m saying. I want to do this right. Do
us
right.” He raked a hand through his hair. “And then I find out about some dude had his hands all over you and I saw nothing but red.”

Maybe under different circumstances the fact that his place was wrecked and he looked like he hadn’t showered in days because he was so wounded at the idea of losing me would have been endearing, but all I felt was fury.

“I guess that explains why you stood me up. You saw nothing but red so you couldn’t see the texts I sent you. Or the times I called you.”

He met me eye to eye. “I’m sorry. I should have talked to you about Lance.”

“But that would have required separating yourself from the booze and actually having a conversation like an adult instead of throwing a temper tantrum.” I seethed.

He went to the table, pulling out a chair. “Fine. Let’s talk. I’ll tell you how sorry I am until you want to tape my mouth shut and you can tell me who this Lance guy is.”

I wanted to accept the olive branch and ignore the way he said Lance’s name like he was eating nails, but now that he could put a string of words together without them crashing into each other, I realized the last thing I wanted was to talk to him. Or see his face.

“I can’t do this right now.”

I took what was left of my dignity and walked out the door, leaving him at the table alone.

Chapter Seven: Lucas

I’d been to this club so many times I could walk to its location, eyes closed. I wore my usual uniform. A button down shirt, jeans, some pair of name brand shoes. Every piece of the get-up was designed to give off the air of casual confidence. And just like usual, I walked through the door and drew several female gazes. But there was something different about tonight. Tonight, I didn’t flirt right back, taking each girl in and giving her a spark of hope that they were coming home with me. Tonight, I turned my attention immediately to the bar, calculating just how drunk I needed to get to make it through the night.

Blake clapped my shoulder, either oblivious or just ignoring my standoffish vibes. “Let’s get this party started!”

I followed him through the throng of hot, sweaty bodies, music pulsing in my ears. It wasn’t nearly loud enough to shout down an uncomfortable truth. The club was the absolute last place I needed to be.

It had been five days since I ran into Candi at the coffee shop and found out that she saw Juliet with some guy at the library looking ‘especially friendly’. Four days since I avoided Juliet, terrified that somehow I was paying for my past sins, faced with a reflection of the guy I used to be. Someone who played girls. Told them what they wanted to hear before I moved onto the next.

Three days since I didn’t show up at On 5 for dinner with Juliet and finally confronted her about the TA guy—and made a complete fool of myself.

Two days since she gave me a taste of my own medicine and ignored me completely.

Blake signaled the bartender and ordered two Jager bombs. He was already hyped and in the zone. His excitement and optimism about the night’s possibilities was usually contagious. Not tonight. I barely waited for him to get his drink before I threw mine back, the burn lighting up my throat.

He turned to the crowd, probably sizing up what girls he could rope in, but I ordered a second, throwing it back just like the first.

“You good, man?” he asked, his eyebrows arched when I ordered a third. We both knew he didn’t want the truth, so I just slipped on a grin.

“I’ll be fine in a couple of minutes.” Once the buzz kicked in and I could shut my brain off.

I finished the third and I didn’t even have to wince to get it down. When I asked for a for a fourth, the bartender shook his head adamantly.

“It’s a marathon, not a sprint,” he said in the most sagely, patronizing voice I’d ever heard. He grabbed the soda wand and poured some liquid in a small glass and pushed it across the bar towards me. “Water. Trust me, you’ll thank me in the morning.”

“I don’t even want to remember your face in the morning,” I growled. I pulled out my wallet and leafed through the billfold, head fuzzing already. “How about you replace that with some vodka and we’ll pretend it’s H20?”

The bartender didn't budge. “Hit me back up in a little bit, alright?”

He turned to go, but I slammed my fist on the bartop, rattling the drinks around me. “Is my money no good here?” I pulled out another twenty, my voice darkening. “How about you grab that bottle back there—”

“How about we grab a smoke?” Black interrupted, cutting through the tension as he slid up beside me.

I looked away, ready to tell him to go to hell, but I realized his interjection was less about us lighting up and more about helping the bartender make a clean getaway. By the time I turned back around, the bartender was gone.

I hurled my animosity at Blake. “No, I don’t want a fucking cigarette. I’m here to get loaded.”

Blake’s eyes flashed before he rolled them with disgust. “We could have done that back at the house, where you weren’t a shot away from hulking out on some guy who’s just doing his job.”

“What I need is another drink—”

“That’s a last thing you need, man.”

“Why do you care?” I spat. “I could be passed out on the floor, choking on my vomit, and you’d still be chasing ass.”

Even with the flashing lights blinking all around us I saw the hurt ripple across his face before he turned back to the crowd. “You want an escape? This room is filled with them.”

As if the girls could sense his eyes on their scantily clad bodies, four different girls glanced in our direction, every one of them suddenly dancing like they were giving us a private show. One was a leggy blond who was running her hands up and down her body. Another was biting her thumb as she rocked side to side, brown curls gyrating. The third and fourth were rubbing their bodies against each other, one pale with cropped jet black hair and big green eyes and the other with waist length jet black hair. Both had thin, athletic physiques and when one beckoned us with a finger, I knew they were ready to show us just
how
athletic.

I tore my eyes from them and wheeled back to the bar, shutting that option down.

Blake let out a grunt of approval. He was definitely going for the duo. “They’re perfect. One for you, one for me.”

“There’s not enough liquor in the world to get me to hook up with any of them.”

“Okay,” he sighed, not deterred. He backed up beside me, elbows on the bar like he was making himself at home. “Well if not them, how about the redhead at five o'clock?”

I focused on the bottle of Smirnoff glittering in my direction. “What don’t you understand about what I just said?”

He didn’t respond, but I could tell he was looking at me and as much as I just wanted to ignore him and buddy up to the bartender, I flicked my eyes to him. He was staring at me like I was a complete stranger.

“I don’t understand how you got so mindfucked over some girl.”

I could have snapped at him, explained that Juliet was far from ‘some girl’, but there was no point. Trying to get him to understand that there was only one girl I wanted would have been like trying to have a conversation with my empty shot glass—pointless and it just made me look crazy.

“Well, while you menstruate, I’m gonna go have enough fun for the both of us.”

I let him go, trying to figure out a way to reach across the bar and help myself since the bartender was suddenly my AA sponsor.

A cocktail glass garnished with a pineapple and cherry slid in from my right, stopping in front of me.

“This one’s on me.”

My throat constricted as I balled my fists.

Candi.

I didn’t face her, even though I knew ignoring her wouldn’t make her go away. Obviously.

“I’m starting to wonder if I need a restraining order, Candi.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, her voice rising above the trance beats. “I was dragged here against my will.”

Feeling a sense of deja vu since Blake lured me here with promises of so much drinking then changing it to Operation Hook Up made me bite back my retort. I brought my eyes to her, lingering when I saw that she’d turned it down from the overtly sexual getups she’d been wearing lately. Her thin body was camouflaged beneath an oversized black shirt dress thing and her blond hair was in a low, loose ponytail.

She met my eyes for a second before she bit her lip and pointed at the drink in front of me.

‘It’s sex on the beach, so it’s a little girly.” She cracked a grin. “I figure with the empty glasses around you and the bartender playing Daddy, the last thing you care about is your street cred.”

I didn’t.

I finished the fruity concoction in three solid gulps. I put the cup down, embracing the heat that rippled over me as I gripped the bar. “I hope you don’t think this lets you off the hook. I talked to Juliet and nothing happened between her and...him.”

She shrugged a bare shoulder. “If memory serves, I just relayed information. What you did with that information is your business.”

I smiled in spite of myself. Only Candace Mann would dare say that in the most innocent voice possible, like she hadn’t intended to stir up trouble. I blinked and turned the smile off. Or tried to anyway. My whole body felt like there was a light beneath me, warming my skin. I gave my head a shake. “I shouldn’t even be talking to you.”

She tucked a stray golden strand behind her ear, still playing dumb. “Why is that?”

“Because Juliet would be pissed.”

Candi smirked. “So she can talk to guys but you can’t talk to girls?” She clucked her tongue disapprovingly, drawing my eye to her shiny, lush lips. “I guess the rumors are true. A freshman has Lucas McNamara totally whipped.”

She brandished another drink.

“Hey now!” I said, warmth invading my cheeks despite my best efforts to keep it at bay. Or were they already warm? I had no idea. “Caring about what my girlfriend thinks doesn’t mean she’s got me wrapped around her finger. I mean, look around you. I’m sitting at a bar, talking to some hot blond. Juliet would definitely not approve, but here we are.” I discarded the garnish and downed the drink.

Candi moved closer, biting her lip. “I’m hot?”

“Oh come on,” I scoffed, trying to arch an eyebrow, but grinning instead. “You know you’re hot.” There was a voice in my head that was screaming for me to end this conversation before I said something else that I didn’t need to say.

“Wanna go out on the patio so I can smoke a cigarette?”

Blake had asked me the same question and I bit his head off, but I turned without protest, following her out the door. My legs and arms moved, hand clutching some new drink she’d given me. I snickered when I looked through the haze at the drink in my grip. The girl seemed to have an endless supply of cocktails. Not that I was complaining.

Everyone around us seemed to be behind some sort of mask, faces smudged. Even Candi’s face blurred as she batted her eyes and slid a cigarette between her lips.

“Think you can light it for me?” she asked, her voice thick like syrup.

I took the lighter, flicking the Bic and holding it out as she leaned in, the flame sparkling in her eyes as she lit the end. She took a long drag and released it, smoke whirling around her face.