Chapter 8
Taylor
Well, that was certainly interesting.
I didn’t expect Knox to follow through with my request, but now that I know he’s willing to play, my time at home just got a lot more exciting.
Except, today’s Friday…Monday will take forever to get here, and I have no doubt, after that hasty departure, my conflicted contractor will be all up in his head for the next forty-eight hours, meaning I’ll be in mine, too.
At least I’m getting back in the saddle and not wallowing as much as before, I think, just as an idea strikes.
“Hey, Bird,” Livvy says, answering on the second ring. “How’s it going at Mom and Dad’s?”
I laugh into the phone.
“You aren’t going to believe this,” I answer excitedly.
My sister doesn’t return my excitement. “I swear to God, Tay, if you tell me Patrick called you—”
“What?” I interrupt her. “Why would you think that’s what I was going to say?” I demand.
“Um, maybe because there hasn’t been this much life in your voice since before all that shit went down? I know you’re not doing well even though you think you’re hiding it.”
“Okay, Debbie Downer, I’m allowed to feel emotions, for fuck’s sake. That whole situation was traumatic, and I’m not trying to hide anything. But I digress. You know the guy who caught me when I fell off the bar on karaoke night?”
“Mm-hmm,” she hums. Her skepticism about where this is going is evident in her tone.
“He’s the guy doing Mom and Dad’s back porch!” I announce.
She sighs in disappointment, totally crashing my high. “Not again, Tay. Can’t you find a hot guy your own age who doesn’t scream I love pussy? That guy was totally straight. Stop barking up the hetero trees. There’s nothing there for you.”
I know she’s just concerned for me, but right now, her condescending tone is really pissing me off.
“First of all, I’ve been trying to tell all of you that regardless of what he told everyone, Patrick.
Isn’t. Straight. I wasn’t even the first guy he’d been with.
He was just too fucking cowardly to admit he’d fallen for me, and when shit hit the fan, he acted like he had no fucking clue how his dick ended up in my ass! ”
God, I hate talking about this.
“Of all the people in the world, though, why’d you have to go after him? Patrick just lost Emilia the year before.”
“Does that mean he wasn’t allowed to choose how he dealt with his grief?” Ugh, and now I’m sticking up for him. “Never mind. This isn’t the conversation I’d wanted to have when I called. I’ll talk to you later.”
I’m pulling the phone away from my ear when I hear Livvy shout, “Tay, wait!”
“What, Liv? I’m tired of everything coming back to Patrick, okay?
Interacting with the guy from the bar was the first time since all that bullshit that I’d started feeling like myself again.
I just wanted you to be excited with me that the universe threw the hot stranger back into my orbit.
I definitely didn’t want another lecture about my terrible judgement and poor choices. ”
“I’m sorry,” Livvy says. “I just don’t ever want to see you hurting like that again.”
“Yeah, well, maybe if my family had believed me, it wouldn’t have hurt quite so much,” I fire back with far more venom than my sister deserves.
It’s a low blow. Patrick was desperate—there were tears and everything. Hell, maybe even he believed it when he said it. All I know is that I felt betrayed by my entire family, and that hurt as much as the lies Patrick told.
“Tay, I’m sorry. Just promise me you’ll be careful with the contractor?”
“Sure,” I say noncommittally. A lot of good that does, considering I thought I was being careful with Patrick, too. “Look, I have energy to burn. Can we hang out?”
Livvy laughs. “When do you ever not have energy to burn?”
“Go-karts? Rock climbing? What are you in the mood for?” I ask, trying to entice her. She’s almost as much of an adrenaline junkie as I am.
“I can’t tonight, Tay. I promised Marshall I’d help him study for his bio test. Even the easier summer session is kicking his ass.”
Bleh. Marshall. “Liv, that guy’s a loser, and he’s using you. Not to mention, no amount of help will make him pass that test.”
She giggles into the phone. “I know, but Janet is beside herself with jealousy that he asked me instead of her, and you know any chance I get to stick it to Janet, I’m taking.”
“You don’t even like the guy,” I argue. “Why does it matter if Janet goes out with him?”
“Have you not been paying attention at all the last few weeks?” Livvy whines.
Apparently not.
“You know what, spare me the details,” I tell my little sister.
“Whatever. I don’t have class next Thursday. Let’s rent jet skis at the lake one more time before the season’s over.”
“Next Thursday? I’m going to absolutely die of boredom by then.”
“Take it or leave it,” she says.
“Fine. Go revenge-tutor Marshall or whatever-the-fuck.”
“Love you, Taaaaay,” she sings into the phone.
“You too, Liv.”
It only takes my brain about sixty seconds to pivot and come up with another plan.
The construction crew won’t be back until Monday, so as long as I’m back by Sunday night, there shouldn’t be a problem. I can fly standby from Raleigh to Atlanta for the weekend for free.
A perk of being employed by a major airline.
A change of scenery, hitting my favorite club with my friend Callum, and the possibility of working out some of this sexual tension is exactly what I need…but not with Callum…because no.
Maybe I should heed Livvy’s advice and dick around with someone my own age for a night. Maybe if I get laid, I’ll stop feeling like I’m a dog in heat the rest of the time Knox Bennett is at the house.
Phil and Javier leave about an hour and a half after Knox’s hasty departure, and I make sure I’m on the list for a seven-thirty p.m. flight.
I throw all the essentials in my bag: stick-on rhinestone freckles, glitter blush, my favorite clubbing outfit, travel pack of toiletries, condoms, lube, thigh-high socks, and I’m ready to roll.
“Yeah, I’m supposed to land at nine,” I tell Cal through the speakers in my BMW. “Do not be late, Callum Deacon Jaynes. I mean it,” I warn. “Last time, I waited on the curb for twenty-five minutes, slowly dying from second-hand strawberry vape smoke.”
“I hadn’t realized your visits would be so frequent and would require me to become your on-demand chauffeur,” Callum deadpans on the other end of the line.
“Oh, please. You love it when I come visit,” I scoff.
“I hardly see you when you’re down here,” he pouts. “You don’t even stay with me.”
“Well, once you actually find your guest bed under the piles of shit you undoubtedly have everywhere, maybe I’ll consider staying with you.”
Callum and I were roommates in college. At least for the two years I was there before the walls closed in, and I realized institutionalized education was not for me.
He was messy then, but it’s got nothing on his house now.
He moved to Atlanta shortly after he graduated and always offers me a place to stay, but I can’t handle his space.
Cal’s a brilliant designer, but his mind and personal life are chaotic as fuck, so I always opt for a hotel.
“Dick,” he mutters lovingly.
I can’t help but laugh. “I’ll take that as the compliment it was clearly meant to be, considering we both have an affinity for the appendage.”
“See you at ten,” he says.
“Nine!” I shout, correcting him, but he’s already hung up.
Take off to touch down is only ninety minutes, and we arrive at the gate fifteen minutes early, despite the rain. I hate landing in the rain. As soon as our wheels are on the tarmac, I’m texting Cal.
When I make it to the exit, he still hasn’t texted me back. I’m thirty seconds away from ordering a rideshare when a honk causes me to look up and see the cheeky bastard grinning about twenty yards down.
Opening the door of his SUV, I climb inside, practically throwing myself over the console to hug my friend. Although we lead very different lives, Cal is always a welcome sight.
“Hey, babe,” he says, wrapping his arms around me and planting a kiss on my cheek.
After swinging by the hotel to check in and get ready, Cal and I are strutting up to the doors of Luscious, our favorite Atlanta hot-spot.
If I find a good hookup, maybe I can cut my contractor some slack when Monday rolls around.
Here’s to hoping.
Knox makes it really hard to mind my own business when he’s out back with his slutty toolbelt, backwards hat, and threadbare T-shirt showcasing his massive arms and chest. And I keep coming back to the fact that he lifted his shirt a second time. For me.
Upon gaining admission to the club, I squeal in delight. The Hydras, the new NHL team in Atlanta, are at the club tonight for some PR thing. I’m sure someone forced them all to be here, but do you think that’s going to stop me from flirting my ass off?
Absolutely not.
I look amazing tonight. My favorite rainbow booty shorts make my tight ass utterly fucking edible, and the white fishnet crop top I paired them with? HOT. AS. FUCK.
As if that weren’t enough, I applied the rhinestone freckles that highlight my sculpted cheekbones, and my naturally blond hair make those freckles pop even more.
Armed with my confidence, I sashay across the club with Callum in tow, grab a drink, and survey the land.
My eyes immediately fall on the group of hockey players in the VIP section.
They’re clearly trying to figure out their game plan, but to their credit, they don’t look uncomfortable at all.
In fact, several of them tip their heads back in laughter and look right at home in the gay club.
A second later, I spot my mark. The man is a fucking giant. As I approach, my heart ticks faster at his flawless light brown skin. His hips move in sync with the beat, telling me of his rhythm, and if I don’t claim him right now, someone else will.
I say nothing as I approach, wrapping my arms around his lean waist and grinding my groin against his to the music.