Ocean (Damage Control 5)
Four years of guilt and regret.
So screw the chicks, screw tonight. I prepare to ask the bartender for something stronger, something that will hopefully knock me out for good, when someone taps me on the shoulder.
Turning, I find Jesse Lee and Amber. “What’s up, man?”
“We’re gonna blow this joint,” he says, squeezing Amber’s hand in his. “It’s been a long day for both of us. Would you take Kayla home?”
“Me?” I blink at him, confused. “You going to your place with the three jackasses?”
“Nope. I’ve moved out already, didn’t you hear? We found someone to take my room, and she moved in yesterday.”
“No, I didn’t hear.” Then again, I haven’t pulled my head out of my ass nearly long enough to ask how everyone is doing in a while.
“Yeah. It’s a madhouse in there right now. Plus a friend of Travis has been crashing on the sofa for the past two weeks, and there’s no fucking privacy. We’re going to a hotel for the night. We have an anniversary to celebrate.”
Anniversary? Of what?
But Jesse’s still talking. “I wouldn’t have asked you this otherwise.” He scratches the back of his head. “It’s just that Kay seems tipsy, and we don’t wanna leave her all alone.”
“She’s totally shitfaced,” Amber says, her expression a cross between anger and worry. “Don’t know what she’s trying to prove.”
Dammit. “How about you ask somebody else?”
“Don’t be such a jackass. You’re the one she’d ask for.” Jesse thumps my back and turns to go.
“She asked for me? You serious?”
“Just take her home, make sure she’s all right, yeah?” Jesse harrumphs as he dumps a coat and a small purse on my lap and then tugs Amber away. “And keep your fucking hands to yourself.”
“Go to hell, J.” I watch them go, then I grab the coat and purse, hop off my stool and stride toward the dance floor and Kayla, every last trace of the buzz I had going vanishing. “Me? I’m already there. Been there for years. Lemme tell you, it sucks.”
And yeah, I know muttering to myself isn’t a good sign, not with my family history. Then again, who the fuck cares?
Nobody, that’s who. Nobody ever has, and nobody ever will, and that’s both the blessing and the curse of my mad world.
***
My dark mood doesn’t improve as I wade through the dancing crowd, looking for Kayla. The more I think about it, the more it sounds like a joke. Jesse must have seen me staring at her earlier. Should
have known better than to let myself react to her presence, let anything show. Problem is, my control is not so good these days.
And I still don’t know why my body reacts to her like that, shattering my control.
It’s a passing thing, I decide as I push off a brunette who has started dancing with me even though I’m still searching for Kayla. Has to be. I just need to blow off steam. A good fuck and I’ll be good as new. I won’t get hard every time she’s around.
In fact, after this prank, I’m pretty fucking sure I’m cured of the strange affliction. Screw you, J. Screw this shit.
Dammit, where is that chick? And where is everyone else? Did everyone run back home to fuck like bunnies, leaving me to babysit Kayla?
And shouldn’t I be more pissed off about it?
I stop to dislodge a girl who’s plastered herself to my side—right against my bruised ribs, goddammit.
It strikes me, then, how ironic this is. This is what I came for, to grab a chick and have some fun. Instead, I’m pushing chicks off me to take Kayla home so she can sleep off her intoxication.
Yet for some reason my mouth twitches.
Man, I’m obviously drunker than I thought. And an idiot—because why didn’t I grab Jesse and yell in his face that I’m not doing this? Or go look for Seth or Shane or the other girls to tell them I’m outta here?