Fighting for Keeps (Rocky River Fighters 2)

“It’s an acquired taste,” Ian told her, blue eyes dancing. “You get used to it.”

“I don’t think I want to,” Amelia replied, wrinkling her nose.

“Want something else? This is a small town bar, but there are a few decent options besides beer. Alex will get you something else,” Cammie told her.

“I’ll get it,” she said quickly before Alex could stand. “I have to go to the loo anyway.”

Standing up, she spotted the sign for the washrooms and headed that way. Once inside, she leaned back against the door and closed her eyes, exhaling. Breathing deeply for a moment, she pushed herself away from the door and made her way to the sink, wanting to splash some cold water on her face and banish the lingering embarrassment.

She glanced at herself in the mirror and paused. She couldn’t splash water on her face, because her makeup was done, and it looked good for once. The green of her tank top brought out the green in her eyes, and they were outlined with smoky eyeliner and mascara, making them pop even from behind the lenses of her glasses. She wanted to keep looking good as long as possible.

When Cammie showed up at the house earlier, it was a total surprise. Amelia had only seen her in passing a couple times, but she was really nice. She asked Amelia to come out with them tonight, making sure to tell her Seth would be there. She hesitated, but when Cammie told her she’d help her get ready, she agreed. A chance to get on with her seduction of Seth, while looking good for once? She couldn’t pass that up.

Yet she still managed to make a fool of herself. She was really looking forward to the day when she wouldn’t, although she was beginning to doubt that day would ever come. Sighing, she wet her hands with cold water and then quickly dried them, bringing her cool hands to her still hot cheeks. Once the blush faded completely, she took a few more calming breaths, and tried to psych herself up for an evening spent potentially embarrassing herself more. All for the cause, though, right?

Guilt tried to creep in, but she frowned, pushing it away. She wasn’t up to anything nefarious, really, she told herself. She had no plans to use what she learned. She just wanted to assuage her curiosity.

She spent a few moments trying to convince herself of that, but she wasn’t being very successful. It was the lingering taste of beer on her tongue that finally got her moving again. She needed something to wash it away. Leaving the bathroom, she made her way to the bar, avoiding looking at the fighter’s table just yet. She didn’t want to risk her blush coming back, and the more time spent away from the scene of the crime, the better.

She waited patiently while the bartender, a woman around her age, finished making a drink for another customer. She wasn’t sure what kind of drink she was making, but it was red and orange with a cherry and orange slice on the rim, complete with an umbrella. It looked appealing, so maybe she would try that. And just about anything was bound to be better than beer.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked as she came to stand in front of Amelia.

“I think I’ll have what you just served her,” she replied with a nod to the girl a few sets down.

“A sex on the beach?”

“Sex on the beach? Goodness, what a name,” she muttered. “Yes, I’ll have that.”

She watched as the bartender grabbed a glass and started mixing the ingredients. She thought that was vodka going in, but she was unsure of the other ingredients added until orange juice was added. This certainly was an interesting drink, with an interesting name.

When the drink was in front of her and she paid, Amelia took a cautious sip. Flavor exploded in her mouth, and she took another sip. This was actually an excellent drink. She could hardly even taste the alcohol. Popping the cherry in her mouth, already feeling a little warm and fuzzy, she jumped when she turned around to go back to the table and found a giant of a man blocking her way.

“You look like you’re really enjoying that cherry,” the man said in a husky voice, watching her lips as she chewed. “I’m Zane, and you look like you could use some company.”

Hastily swallowing, she tried to take a few steps back, but only managed one step before she was brought up short by the bar. The man, Zane, moved in closer, closing the distance between them again.

“I don’t need any company, thank you.”

Placing an arm next to her on the bar, Zane leaned in even closer. “Has anyone ever told you your accent is sexy?”

“I really need to get back to my friends now,” she replied stiffly, uncomfortable and trying to edge around him.

“You call those losers friends? They’re nothing more than poor trash, and you’re above them. Me and you, we’re the same. I could give you everything—”

“Is there a problem here?”

Amelia briefly closed her eyes, relief washing over her at the sound of Seth’s voice. His expression was even, but the hard, clipped tones in his voice showed his annoyance. Zane stiffened and slowly straightened as he replied, never taking his eyes off her.

“There’s no problem, commoner. You’re not needed here. Leave.”

“I wasn’t really asking you. Amelia?”

Zane turned to glare at Seth, and she used it to her advantage, sliding around him. Unease slinked down her spine as her arm brushed Zane’s, but she felt instantly better once she was next to Seth, and not trapped anymore. She took in the two men glaring at each other, and though she wanted to make her discomfort known, she didn’t want to be the cause of them fighting. They looked like they were a heartbeat from tearing into each other.

“There’s no problem, not now.”

“See? She wants my attention. Now get lost, before I’m forced to declaw you.”