Crave (The Gibson Boys 3)

“You’re right,” I say, shivering. “It’s definitely not going to help.” I grab my purse and find a few bucks for a tip, then put them under the salt shaker.

“If I loved someone like you love Machlan and he didn’t love me back, I think I’d hate them.”

“Let’s not embarrass me, okay?”

She sighs, grabbing her purse. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re brave. Much braver than I would ever be.” She takes out a tube of red lipstick and strategically paints it on her lips. “I see your predicament. He can be a complete jerk, and then he’s the first to jump to your aid or fuck you real good.”

“Emily!”

“Just going by what you’ve told me.” She smacks her lips together and puts the lipstick away.

“Anyway,” I continue, “I think I need to change my plan. I need to figure out how to be around him without loving him or hating him. Just look at him like another guy I’m friends with. Like Peck,” I add, proud of myself for the comparison.

“Peck is boy-next-door hot. Machlan is front-cover-of-women’s-porn-magazines hot. Good luck with that.” She laughs as she climbs out of her seat, taking her credit card from the waiter.

I follow her out the door. Once we’re in the parking lot, Emily stops and turns to me. Her arm goes around my shoulder as we head to our cars. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure.”

“I’m glad you’re not with Samuel anymore. He’s so lame.”

She continues her opinions as I climb into the car. Despite all the confusion in my life and all the questions I don’t have answered, I can’t deny it’s awfully nice being home again.

Nine

Machlan

“Just the man I was looking for,” I say.

Peck stops in his tracks, and the door swings shut behind him. The thud sounds ominous as it echoes through the bar, sealing the sunshine out and him … inside with me.

“I’m gonna need to know how pissed you are before I come any closer,” he says.

“What an interesting thing to say.” I shove my tongue in my cheek. “Why would I be pissed off?”

“Oh, I don’t think there’s anything to be pissed off about. You, on the other hand …”

Tossing the rag down on the bar, I slap both palms flat against the wood. “Cut the shit, Peck.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s right,” he says, tapping his temple. “Letting her stay at my house was a better idea. Or would you have rather I let her sleep in her car?”

“I would rather you had called me like I fucking told you to do.”

“And then she would’ve been pissed, which I know really doesn’t bother you, but I don’t like the look in her eye when she’s mad, okay?” He sighs. “Besides, I left the window open so you’d know something was up. I did you a solid, bro.”

“You did me a solid?”

He shoots me his stupid, goofy grin that makes it hard to be pissed. “I did. You just might not see it yet.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

“You will.” He starts to move forward but stops. “Before I come any closer and grab a beer, how pissed are ya?”

“What’s the scale?”

“One to ten.”

“Oh, about a seven point three.”

Peck’s laugh is quick and loud. “Hell, I’ve made you madder than that without trying. Now grab me a beer, will ya?”

I shake my head, grabbing the rag I had a few moments ago to finish cleaning the area where I cut the limes. Peck takes a seat across from me. When I don’t get him a beer, he hops over the bar.

He rummages around the liquor bottles and helps himself to the contents of the candy dish by the cash register. I’d bust his balls on a normal day. Lucky for him, today is as abnormal as they come.

I love this bar. Coming in here every day isn’t work to me. It’s not just entertainment as Lance assumes it is or just a paycheck like Walker thinks. It’s not even some attempt to stay young and half-assed irresponsible like my sister, Blaire, points out every other time we talk.

I’ve seen people come in here ready to drive off a cliff and leave with a smile on their face. Why? Because I poured them a shot and listened to whatever bullshit they had to say, or they ran into a friend they haven’t seen in a couple of weeks and got distracted. People let their guard down here, admitting their feelings. Others cut loose and enjoy Friday night because it’s fucking Friday night. This place brings people together in a way most don’t understand, and being a part of it makes me feel as if I’m doing something worthwhile.

Today, I can’t remember any of that. I can’t find the good this place usually brings. There’s only a wobbliness that started when I walked into the apartment earlier.