19. June
June
Ijust got finger-banged in public, and I kinda loved it.
Maybe it's the booze running through my veins, or the craving I've had for Coen since the first time we kissed when we were kids, but the adrenaline coursing through me makes me feel more alive than ever.
Something is enticing about the line of danger we dance along, and it makes me want to dip my toes further on the other side, perhaps see how much risk-taking I can actually get away with.
Coen pulls his phone out of his pocket—Dominic’s contact lighting up the screen.
He presses the green button and puts it to his ear.
“Yeah?” Coen flits his gaze to me. “She’s fine.
” He winks and grins, the smile only lasting a second before Dom continues talking.
“Of course, he’s already on his way?” He pauses. “Right, I will.”
“Who’s on their way?” I ask him, not caring that it’s probably not my business.
“An…associate.”
“Simon?”
“No. He knows better than that.”
I exhale, not quite sure why I was holding my breath on that one. The guys have made it clear that Simon is their rival—a threat—the man potentially responsible for what happened to me. It’s a natural reaction to internally cringe at the thought of him just showing up out of the blue.
“Is everything okay?” I study the way his face hardens and returns to the cold and distant man from earlier. The robotic Coen, void of all emotions other than anger, unlike the soft and sweet boy I remember from my childhood.
“It will be. I’ll make sure of it.” Coen turns back to me fully.
“Just because I will be distracted, does not mean I won’t be watching.
If you want to dance, that’s fine, but tread lightly with who you choose to join you.
Do not underestimate whether I will cut the throat of a stranger if they touch you. I don’t care who sees it.”
And somehow, despite it not aligning with the Coen I once knew, I believe him, because neither one of us are that person from forever ago.
“Got it.” I adjust the necklaces on my chest.
Coen picks up my discarded clutch from the ground, something I didn't even realize I had dropped during our heated time together. I was more focused on his lips, his touch, his fingers sliding in and out of my pussy.
He hands it to me and leaves his palm hovering there for me to take.
I clasp onto it and allow him to guide me down the make-out hallway, passing the bathrooms and back out into the blaring nightlife. The music seems louder than it was, the crowd easily doubled in size while we were busy.
Coen points ahead to the blonde shaking her ass with another girl. “Your friend is there.” He brings my knuckles to his lips, kissing them gently and releasing me to join her.
He walks away, a strange abyss filling me with the increasing distance.
Regret sets in with it, reminding me that I potentially fucked up by allowing us to cross that line.
I wanted it, he wanted it, but did we go too far?
Did we reopen a wound impossible of closing?
Something that will take us both down because of our complicated past and our unresolved feelings for each other?
Cora spots me and waves her arm to get my attention.
I’ll leave the potential consequences of my few minutes of pleasure behind and worry about it another day. Tonight is for having fun with my friend.
I glide over to her, stepping around the many moving bodies and joining her on the dance floor. I lean in close. “Want to grab a drink?” I could use a minute to catch my breath and some booze to numb me.
“Um, yes.” Cora latches on to my elbow and takes me with her.
I go with her, grateful that I've gotten used to these shoes by now. Otherwise, I might have just face-planted or twisted an ankle. I pretend they're an extension of my body, adopting the whole fake-it-till-you-make-it motto. I refuse to let a few inches make me look bad.
Cora pulls me to her side. “Was lover-boy pissed?”
“What?” I glance over at her. “Oh, Co? Well, when isn’t he mad?”
“So that’s his type.” Cora squeezes into a spot at the bar.
The bartender looks directly at us and holds up a finger. She finishes pouring the drink she’s working on and comes right over. “What can I get you?”
A couple dude-bros a few people down throw a few choice words our direction and shake their heads. I don’t blame them, considering they were waiting ahead of us.
Coen must have used his influence to ensure our prompt customer service.
I step forward. “Can we get four Washington Apple shots and two Flokis on draft?”
Cora smiles and squeezes my hand, excitement running through her at the renewed alcohol source.
“What happened to those guys?” I ask her when the bartender starts making our drinks.
“I think your man scared them away.” She shrugs. “Shit happens.”
“He’s not my man.” And yet I scan the crowd for him anyway.
He's leaning against the wall in the corner, his arms crossed, staring directly at me. He pushes off, breaking eye contact with me, and shakes the hand of a man who approaches. They exchange pleasantries and Coen gestures toward a table for them to sit at.
“Ohh, who is that?” Cora joins me in watching them, her attention on the man with Coen.
“I don’t know.”
Decently tall, with soft features, a hint of red in his ashy hair. He follows the path where Coen was looking, grazing his focus on me for a second before settling on Cora. He appears young, too much so to be in that line of business.
“OMG, am I having a moment right now?” Cora nudges me with her elbow and continues to eye-fuck Coen’s associate.
“Miller,” Coen mouths, but I can’t quite make out what he says next.
“His name is Miller,” I tell Cora once she stops staring.
Her cheeks blush and she turns her back to the two of them.
“J,” she grabs onto me. “Will you introduce us?”
“Introduce you? I don’t even know that man, Cor.” I reach for the drinks the bartender sets out for us. I hand one to Cora and keep another.
“Please?” Cora juts out her bottom lip.
“Let them do their business and if they’re still over there when we’re done with these, I’ll consider it.”
She holds out her shot glass. “Deal.” She tips it back and downs it, not even making a face. That girl is on a mission.
I swallow mine, too, and leave the empty glass on the counter. I grab her the other shot and her beer, and take my own. “Thank you,” I tell the bartender as we walk away and give room to whoever else needs to order something. I find another abandoned but dirty high-top and make a beeline for it.
“Listen, J, I know you have a way with the fellas, but you are seriously pulling some quality eye candy lately.” Cora flips her hair off her shoulder. “What devil did you sell your soul to, because I’m ready to trade mine in, too?”
“Dumb luck?” I sip the beer and scan the crowd. “Enough about me. How was your week? How did the test go?”
Cora dramatically exhales. “Dumb. Super dumb. I mean, I probably did fine, but I swear, nothing from the study guide was on it. That should be illegal.”
“One hell of a bait and switch.”
“You’re telling me. I scoured that thing for like three days straight.” Her gaze locks onto something across the room. “Coen’s friend is super hot.”
I push her shot glass toward her. “They’re business associates, Cor. I don’t know if they have a relationship outside that.” And I’m not sure if they’re even on the same side of the war they’re battling. Allowing Cora to get involved with someone from that line of work would be irresponsible of me.
But if she did, then I wouldn’t have to hide anything from her, and could tell her the truth about what actually happened to me. It would be selfish, but I wouldn’t have to lie to her.
“You’ll find out though, right?” She picks up the glass and brings it to her lips, waiting for me to do the same.
“For you, yes.” I’ll get the scoop on whoever this Miller guy is, and see if he’s worthy of my best friend.
Coen is protective of me, so I have no doubt he would tell me if Miller would be a threat to Cora.
“Otherwise, you’re going to have to learn how to share.” Cora tosses her shot back and immediately reaches for her beer to chase it down. “I’m starting to feel it, are you?”
The alcohol warms my chest and settles in my belly, spreading a residual warmth over my body. I expect my vision to blur or my speech to slur, but instead, I'm just slightly buzzed, an overall contentment flowing through me. "Not really."
Cora’s eyes widen and she cups her hand around her mouth. “Boner alert. Don’t look now, but Damon is heading this way.” She averts her gaze and scratches at her neck like she didn’t blatantly announce his arrival. It’s safe to say the intoxication is hitting her harder than it is me.
I casually pick up my glass and hope that her drunken state is causing her to see shit that isn’t there.
A hand on my lower back tells me otherwise.
“Fancy seeing you here.” The Damon lookalike comes between me and Cora.
His black jacket hugs his shoulders, a matching shirt clinging to his chest. The darkness of his brows intensifies his stare, reinforcing that bad boy look he’s going for.
There’s something dangerously seductive about him I can’t quite put my finger on.
He scans my face, his gaze falling on my brow, my lip, my chin. All the places I tried my best to apply the expensive makeup that one of the guys I live with provided me. "What happened?"
I note his jaw tensing, a rather weird reaction from a stranger.
His last few words he spoke to me float through my head. You will be mine.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Coen comes out of nowhere and shoves Damon away from me. He positions his body in front of me like this guy might be some kind of threat.
“Co.” I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder. “Everything is fine.” I step around him. “You two know each other?”
Damon smirks and crosses his arms. “Yeah, Co, we were just having a chat.”