PRESTON (2 page)

8:00 p.m.

Surely she would have given up by now.
If she even came over.
I’d done what any coward would do, I ran away from my problem.

I turned onto my street, and a couple houses later pulled into my parking lot. There she was. On my front steps.

She looked up and smiled. Crap.

I’d be a really big asshole if I left now.

I turned my car ignition off and stepped out. “Didn’t your friend from the bar tell you I was busy?” I didn’t have her number so I’d called the bar.

“Yea.”

She pushed herself to her feet and grabbed a small duffle bag. From the way she stood, I could tell it must be heavy.

“Here,” I made my way over to her. “Let me take that.”

“Just unlock the door, I’ve got this.”

I took a deep breath as I made my way up the steps and it was a dumb idea. I caught a whiff of her strawberry perfume, she smelled like a baked good that just came out of the oven. 

“How long have you been out here?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said curtly.

Shit. She must have been here a long time. I felt shame tug at my stomach, or guilt, I wasn’t sure I was so used to feeling them at the same time. “Sorry. If I’d known you were still going to come—”

“You wouldn’t have tried to avoid me in the first place?” she offered as I pushed the door open. She stepped past me and made her way right to the kitchen without taking her shoes off.

I stared at her ass as I flicked on the light, she wore a pair of flared jeans tonight and a black shirt that draped off one shoulder. I hadn’t realized how short she was last night with her heels on. “At least you know now.” She smiled widely, but I wasn’t so sure she was going to forgive me.

So I either had to make her hate me, which based on how much of an ass I had already been wouldn’t be hard—or I actually had to give her a shot and that scared me more than anything else I could do.

She quickly made herself at home in my kitchen as I strode over to the island. “Do you want any help?”

“No,” again her answer was curt as she padded to the fridge, pulled it open and grabbed something from it. “Here. Sit there and drink.” She handed me a can of beer.

“So you’re just going to try to get me drunk?”

“Sure honey.” Her voice was cold as she gave me a smirk before turning around and finding a small pot.

“You know if you’re mad, you can just leave.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Her head tilted to the left as she poured water into the pot and put it on the stove. Yes. Yes, it was.

***
 

So, he wanted me to leave already?

Well that was just too damn bad for him, wasn’t it? I wasn’t going anywhere. I was going to make him a nice fucking dinner, and he was damn well going to enjoy it.

I left the water to boil and went back over to the counter. “So how was your day?” I asked as I pulled out the cucumber for the cucumber salad.

“It was fine, yours?”

“Boring. I spent most of the day trying to find a new job while attempting to make a living off my …” I stopped as a blush colored my cheeks. He’d probably think I was stupid.

“Your what?” 

“I make and sell perfume, okay? Laugh if you want.” I turned away from him before I could see the look on his face.

“Why would I laugh? That must be why you smell so good.” I turned to look at him. His cheeks were bright read. “I mean …”

I laughed softly. “It’s my favorite scent. Strawberry cake.”

“As a guy, I would buy that for myself.”

That got another soft laugh from me. A blush rose to my cheeks. “Thank you.”

Silence fell over us for a couple minutes as I got dinner ready. I went with pasta, stuffed chicken that had been prepped at my place, and a cucumber salad.

Priest didn’t say a word the entire meal, which I took to mean he enjoyed it. He got seconds and ate them up in a matter of seconds.

Finally, when we were both done, I cleared the island and ran the dishes.

“You don’t have to do those.”

“I made the mess; I should clean up after it.”

“No, really, I don’t mind if you just leave them. It’s the least I can do.”

“Thanks.” I turned to the fridge and pulled out two other beers. I took it over to him and slid into the seat across from opposite. “So …”

“What?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“What was her name?”

“Becky.”

“And you loved her?”

“More than anything in the world.”

“How did you two meet?”

“We were friends in middle school. Does it really matter?”

“No.” I shook my head and got up. “You’ll open up when you’re ready.”

“I don’t need to open up,” he snapped.

“Yes, you do,” I argued. “You don’t
want
to open up. There is a difference. You just need a little coaxing.”

“How do you know?” he asked, tossing his head back.

“Because I know people. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love more than anything.” It may not be the same thing, but I had an idea of what he was going through. I turned to see him staring at me, gave him a soft smile and kept walking around the room. I made my way down the hallway to the bedroom. I hadn’t noticed it last night, but there was a picture on the dresser.

“Are you having fun looking around my place?” I hadn’t realized he’d followed me.

“Yes.” I padded over to the dresser, picked the photo up and glanced at him.

His entire body tensed. He stepped towards me, but it was like he was frozen.

Blonde hair, red lips, perfect legs. “This is her, isn’t it?” I guessed he was the one beside her with blue hair. The way he held her, it was like they were friends, but he wanted more. There were three other guys in the picture.

“Yes.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“Was. She was beautiful.” I put the picture down and turned to face him. I could see the emotion all over his face. Hurt, love, loss. Pain.

“What happened?”

I sauntered over to the bed and sat down, watching as he took a long swig of his beer. “It doesn’t matter.”

I gave a weak smile. Clearly he still wasn’t there yet.

“If you say so.”

“How long are you going to keep playing this game?”

“What?”

“Please.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re not the first to try. I’m damaged goods, I get that. I don’t want you to save me or fix me or whatever you’re trying to do. There is a reason I haven’t had a girlfriend since I was 14. There is a reason I don’t want one. There’s a reason I go to bars to pick up girls. I have enough baggage, and it’s my baggage, I don’t need anyone else’s, and I sure as shit don’t need anyone trying to figure mine out.”

I smirked, letting out a snort of amusement. “Okay.” I wasn’t done trying—after all I am a nosey girl—but I’d let him think I was. I pushed myself up from the bed, padded towards him and placed a kiss on his lips. “Just remember, I’m not always going to be here, and it seems to me that I’m one of the few good people who’ve entered your life. I’m not trying to ‘fix’ you; I’m just trying to get to know you. The good and the bad.”

I pulled away from him and made for the kitchen. It wasn’t until I had already pulled two beers out of the fridge that he returned. I passed him one and opened the other for myself.

That’s right; I was resorting to getting him drunk. Maybe then he wouldn’t be such a jerk. I swallowed dryly as I sat down at the island. Maybe this was stupid. I couldn’t force him to open up to me and clearly he didn’t want to. I shouldn’t be trying to get to know him if that weren’t what he wanted but … there was something about him. I wanted to know everything there was to know. I wanted to ask him dozens of question. I wanted to fuck him, knowing every single little thing about him.

That was what I wanted.
 

***

Her words echoed again and again in my head.
“I’m not trying to ‘fix’ you; I’m just trying to get to know you. The good and the bad.”

Maybe it was true. Maybe I should give her a shot. Maybe …

I took a deep breath, placed my empty beer can on the island and reached for something a little harder, as well as two shot glasses.

I strolled back to the island, sat across from her, poured us each a shot and slid one to her, then pulled out a quarter and handed it over. “If you get it in my glass I’ll drink, I’ll answer one of your questions. But for every one that I get in your cup, you drink and take off your clothes.”

She grinned. “Well, this sounds fun. How do we know when someone loses?”

“You lose when you’re naked, then we go to my bedroom and fuck.” I paused; I couldn’t help the grin that spread over my face at her reaction. Clearly she liked that idea. “You win, by getting me to answer more than 10 questions. Then I’ll tell you whatever else you want to know.”
 

***
 

I grinned. I won’t lie; I debated losing just so we could get to the fucking. His words had turned me on, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had a boner and what he’d look like without clothes on.

“You’re on.” I took the quarter from him and aimed for his shot glass. I missed. Priest smirked as he reached for it, and the scar on his cheek twitched.

His aim seemed to be perfect. His grin widened as I pulled the quarter out of the shot glass, drank the whisky and stood up. Pulling my shirt over my head, I let it fall to the ground. He was three more garments away from winning, and I still hadn’t gotten an answer. Four if I counted my socks. Maybe I could get five with my shoes … and toss in my ring for six but that was desperate. Even I had to admit that. I took the quarter and tossed it towards his shot glass and this time it landed in there. I grinned.

“What happened to Becky?” I wasn’t going to waste any time getting to the point. “And don’t just say she died.” I pointed a finger at him as he drank his shot and refilled them both.

“She had a boyfriend for a while. They didn’t have the same ideas about things she thought were important, but she was willing to work through it … it wasn’t until she realized he wasn’t as young as he’d told her that she broke things off … he didn’t take it too well and well … he killed her.”

I sat there in shock. What was I supposed to say to that? Because ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t cut it. Instead of saying anything, I just watched as he took another shot of his glass. I filled it back up, and he reached for the quarter on the table. He tossed it towards me. Instead of falling into the glass, it fell down my bra. I grinned. “That’s not how the game works. Hitting me with money won’t get my clothes off any faster.”

He chuckled as I reached down there and pulled it out, careful to give him a good view of my breasts—well, better than he already had. I tossed the quarter towards his cup and landed it again.

“Are you still in love with her?” I asked before he even fished the quarter out of the glass and took his drink.

“Are you jealous?”

“Again, not how the game works … but maybe I am.”

I watched as he took the drink. I didn’t think I would be jealous if he stilled loved her, I might be jealous if he were still in love with her.

“I love her and I always will.” It was an answer I’d expected. One I was okay with, to be honest. He poured another shot for himself before reaching for the quarter.

He threw it at the shot glass in front of me and missed. I grinned wider as I picked it up. I missed too. Then it was on to him. Turns out I seemed to be a better shot. The quarter landed in his shot glass. He fished it out and took the shot.

“What did you do after she passed away?”

“I went to jail,” he stated, his tone matter-of-fact.

I stared at him unsure of what to say next. He went to jail? “What for?”

Priest grinned. “You’re not playing by the rules.” He reached out and took the quarter from me. This time it landed in my glass, splashing all over my bare skin. I didn’t bother standing up. Instead, I unhooked my bra and slipped out of it. His eyes widened as he stared at my breasts. He seemed focused on my pierced nipple more than anything as I fished the quarter out of my drink and took my shot. I tossed it towards his drink where it struck the edge of the glass and fell to the ground. Priest picked up the quarter and tossed it towards my drink. The whisky must have been getting to him because it zoomed past me and hit the floor.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out another quarter.

I took it from him and tossed it into his shot glass. “What did you go to jail for.”

“Attempted murder.” He spoke only once he’d taken the shot from his glass and glanced down so I couldn’t see the look that crossed his face. But it was too late for that. I pushed myself up.

This game was clearly over.

“You tried to kill her boyfriend.” It wasn’t a question. He nodded as I came to a stop in front of him.