“Did you know about this?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I swear, I thought it was just going to be us. If you want to go home, say the word and we’ll leave.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” Coop unwraps my silverware and hands me my knife and my side of mayo. “You’re going to sit here and eat, and then we’re going to get a beer and wait for everyone else to show up. And when they do, you’re going to laugh and have fun—then and only then can you go home.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t. You love me. And when tonight is over, you’ll thank me for making you stay.”
I give him the side eye. “We’ll see about that.”
17
Trevor
“Hey, Trevor.”
Shayla Caruso catches me the second I walk through the bar and runs a red-tipped nail down the front of my shirt. “You just get off work?”
“Yup. Long-ass day and now I’m going to relax and knock a few back with my family.”
Shayla’s lips form the perfect smirk. Her eyelids droop as she leans in close. “I don’t have any plans tonight, if you want to come over afterward.”
I grab her wrist before she hits the buckle of my jeans. I’ve used Shayla more times than I can count. There’s nothing like a warm, tight pussy to chase away the stress of a long day. I’m tempted to tell her to leave her front door unlocked, but when I glance toward the back of the room and see Claire sitting at the table with my family, the words die on my lips.
Today was rough. Two structure fires made for a busy morning, and then we were called out to a fatal five-car pile-up on the interstate. When Coop and Rhett called to see if I wanted to have drinks and hang out, my initial answer was no. All I wanted was an ice-cold beer, a hot shower, and my bed. But those assholes bitched and moaned, and when Rhett told me Claire was going to be at Dirty Dicks with Mo, I caved.
I haven’t seen Claire since she walked out of my hospital room, and seeing her now is the drink of cool water my charred soul needs. It’s been hell, though I keep reminding myself that separation makes things easier for both of us.
Claire looks up, and my heart slams against my ribs. She holds my gaze for what feels like forever, and although her face is a blank mask, I can see the pain in her eyes—pain I’d hoped would’ve faded long before now.
Her eyes drop to Shayla’s hand on my chest, and she turns away. I have no idea what’s going through her head, but I want to run over there and tell her Shayla and I are nothing more than old friends. But that would be silly.
If I was smart, I’d grab Shayla’s hand, drag her out of the bar, and let her spend the night riding my cock, ending my year-long drought. Maybe then I’d finally be able to forget about Claire. Yeah, right. Unfortunately, I’m a glutton for punishment, and I’d rather end up with a major case of blue balls after sitting next to Claire all night than spend it blowing my load into another meaningless woman.
“Sorry, not tonight.” I drag Shayla’s hand from my body and walk away before she has a chance to argue.
My family is far from quiet. Add Mo and Linc to the mix, and things get downright crazy. I can hear them laughing and carrying on from across the crowded bar—everyone exc
ept Claire. Arms folded tight across her chest, legs crossed, she’s closed herself off, and it doesn’t look like she’s too keen on being here tonight.
She watches me walk across the room, and when she glances at the empty chair between her and Linc, her back stiffens. Not wanting to make her any more uncomfortable than she already looks, I take the empty chair between Rhett and Linc. But if I’m not mistaken, a flash of disappointment crosses Claire’s face.
“Where’s my beer, asshole?” I ask, shoving Rhett’s shoulder.
He raises his hand, flagging Sarah, and then motions to me. There’s no need for her to come over; Sarah knows my poison, and within minutes, she places an ice-cold Bud Light in front of me.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
Sarah winks. “Anything for you, Trevor.”
Coop tosses a napkin, hitting me in the nose. “Stop flirting with my employee.”
“I wasn’t flirting.” I snag the napkin off the table and toss it back, aiming for his mixed drink. The napkin hits his mark, and all of the arms at the table go up in celebration. Well, all but Claire’s and Coop’s.
Nose scrunched, Coop pulls the napkin from his drink, tossing it on the table.
“How’s it going, Linc?” I ask, reaching out a hand. “It’s been a while.”