Chapter 19
After the tension in the bed-and-breakfast, I would’ve jumped at any chance to get out of there. It’s not working in my favor that Caleb also invited Dalton to go out to Breck for a night of fun. The usually quiet man I slept with, the “just a hookup,” is the one person and source of tension I’m so eager to have distance from. Even though the four of us are heading to the same bar, that doesn’t mean I have to spend time with him alone. Being alone with Dalton clearly isn’t wise.
Instead, I enter the bustling and surprisingly busy bar with a different goal: to hang out with Lauren. It’s been a long time since my best friend and I could go out and simply enjoy ourselves. When we were in college, I was mired with the need to maintain good grades for scholarships. Then after graduation, I was even busier with limited free time because of my jobs. Lauren hasn’t been available lately either. Jeremy was a possessive man, and between him and her controlling parents, her time was monopolized with what they felt she needed to be doing.
It’ll be fun to drink and dance with her, and as we kick off the night with the first rounds of beers, I smile at her and clink my glass to hers. “Like old times,” I say, hoping she’s onboard with letting loose with me.
“Old times,” she agrees with a wide smile. Then she turns to Caleb and her grin grows more. “And new.”
A pang of hurt hits me as she kisses him. Over her shoulder, I spot Dalton watching them with that same sense of dejection. He has to be wanting what they have too, and he already lost it with this ex of his who cheated on him. Me? I’ve never come close to having a relationship like she has with Caleb, and seeing her making the relative connection to him, that she’s not as stuck in the past I am as a single woman, sucks.
“Come on!” She grabs my hand, though, and hands her beer to Caleb as a song comes on louder over the speakers. If I want to think about “old generation” tunes, this decades-old hit will do the trick. As I follow my friend out to the slightly crowded dance area, traces of jealousy and pain fade away. Excitement replaces my negative thoughts, and with the beat of the music—which has way more inappropriate and sexual meaning in its lyrics than I realized it did when we were in college—I let myself stop thinking and worrying and stressing. I just dance. The music urges me to move and butcher the words with my best friend. One song turns to another, and another, and with our propensity for being clumsy and goofy, we laugh more often than we pull off any real “moves.” Caleb reappears with our drinks. He’s been watching them for us. I appreciate the reminder to drink up, but I’m gladder that he lets us have our girl time. Maybe he can tell that we need it. It looks like Lauren has found a guy who can take a hint that she’s happy and doesn’t need to be right at his side all the time. On the last occasion I had to drink and dance with Lauren, Jeremy stood right there, never letting her out of reach. He stood there like a stick in the mud and made it so unfun that we gave up and left the bar early.
Now, though, I see how well Lauren has done for herself in finding Caleb. He’s not pushy. He’s loving. He’s respectful of her wishes. And as the song segues into a slower, more romantic one, I realize Lauren wants a break from partying hard with me. She turns into his arms and smiles as he whispers into her ear.
“Okay then,” I mutter to myself as I exit the dance floor. I’ll give them a minute.
I head back toward the bar, eager to get another drink anyway. It’s been a while since I danced like that, and I’m thirsty for not only another alcoholic beverage but also a water. May as well hydrate with the booze.
I wait for my drink and scan the hopping, now-packed bar. Men and women fill the space, either drinking, mingling, or dancing, and with the increase of people, I realize how far I’ve managed to shove Dalton from my mind.
Very far. So far, in fact, that he’s found his way into the arms of a tall blonde. Out of the corner of my eye, I witness them standing there near the restroom doors. She’s not short like me, who needs to peer up at him when speaking. Instead, she’s almost eye-level, leaning her svelte body toward his with a practiced and honeyed smile.
“Huh.” I snort and accept my drink. The bartender forgot my water, but I don’t want to linger here and wait for it. Jealousy hits me hard as I watch the woman giggle at whatever Dalton said. He’s clearly flirting with her to warrant that reaction, and when she lays her hand on his chest and leans in again, I grit my teeth at how quickly he’s moved on.
Why wouldn’t he, though?
He made it clear that I’m nothing but a hookup. That I was “fun.” While he lamely said he would like to hook up again, it seems he was being general. Right now, it looks like he’s excited to hook up with anyone, not just me. And that hurts. I can’t define what I feel for him. I have no business picking at this pull I feel for him when so little is figured out in my life. Yet, I want him. I really do, and it looks like he’s already moving on from anything he might have felt for me.
I turn quickly, worried Dalton might feel the burn of my stare on him. The last thing I need is to be caught red-handed spying on him. My elbow prevents me from fully spinning in the other direction and giving Dalton my back though. I’ve bumped into someone with my haste, and I gasp as some beer sloshes over the rim of the glass.
“Oh! I’m so sorry.”
“Whoa,” the man says in equal alarm. His tone holds more humor, though, and I look up to see I’ve nearly plowed over the tall, hulking form of Hayes. He grins at me, holding my other elbow to steady me. “In a hurry?” he teases.
A hurry?I swallow as the warmth of alcohol chases through me. He’s looking at me with serious intention. Unlike Dalton who’s too busy letting some stranger paw all over him and giggle nonstop. I know this contractor is interested in me, but in the same bar and between both of them, it seems Hayes is the only one who remembers his interest. Dalton is oblivious that I’m even here.
Hayes releases my arm, but not before dragging his finger toward my wrist. “Speechless, too?” he jokes.
I clap my lips shut and force a quick smile. “Hey, Hayes.” I hold back a cringe at the alliteration that sounds so damn dumb.
And that’s my cue to drink up if I’m thinking of grammar in a bar.
“You all right?” he asks as he grabs a napkin from the bar and presses it to my hand, wiping up the liquid.
I take it from him. “Yeah, sure. I’m fine.” There’s that stupid word again. “Just heading to the restroom.”
I wasn’t, but after bumping into the man and feeling flustered, I need a breather. Hayes doesn’t spark anything in me, not like Dalton does, and that difference peeves me. If Dalton can look elsewhere, shouldn’t I, too?
“Maybe when you’re finished…” He tips his head toward the area with dancing customers. “Maybe we can dance?”
“I…” Someone else pushes close to us, and with the interception of another body in the way, I turn tail and practically escape into the bathroom to avoid having to answer. I couldn’t respond after being put on the spot like that. Even though Dalton’s keeping an open mind for a hookup, I’m not. And that’s clearly what Hayes wants. I’m not that stupid. He’s been leering at me from the moment we met.
After I wash my hands and dump out half of my beer—too worried that I might be tipsier than I realized—I go back toward the bar, unsure what to do. If Caleb is still with Lauren, and Dalton is still busy flirting with that tall blonde, I’ll be the odd one out.
Maybe Marian could come pick me up?
I find Hayes speaking with both Caleb and Lauren, though, looking chummy and happy. Beyond them, I spot Dalton chuckling at something the woman’s said.
Yeah, I’m not needed here.
Then Hayes walks away from my friends. It seems like he’s heading toward the spot at the bar to place an order, but seeing me, he winks. Right then, I hear Dalton’s “interest” laugh louder.
That does it.
I approach Hayes and tap his shoulder. “About that dance…”
He grins and takes my hand, not needing me to say anything else. He’s not overly handsy as we move to the music, but I can tell he’s eager to get his hands all over me. I have no desire to give in to anything he could propose past a dance, and I don’t have a chance to worry about it anyway.
But suddenly, Dalton’s there. Out of nowhere, he’s abruptly at my side, rudely slipping his arm around my waist and turning me toward him. “Sorry. Cutting in.”
I spin, landing against his hard chest as the song changes again. Instead of the faster, raunchier hip-hop, it’s a slower, sexier tune. His spicy clean scent hits my nose. I revel in the familiar heat and hardness of his body, and I want to curl closer to him with the security of his muscled arms embracing me. Struck with his presence so quickly, I swallow and scramble to speak.
“You’re not sorry.”
He frowns down at me. “Not one bit.”
A smile threatens on my lips, but I resist it. Knowing he hated the idea of me being with Hayes gives me a silly sense of satisfaction. I hadn’t done it to piss off Dalton. I’d gone with Hayes in the sense of why not? And the fact that I didn’t want to be alone for once. As Dalton hugs me closer, though, still moving to the music so lazily like this, I’m reminded of how mad he was when Hayes was checking me out at the Goldfinch. I told him then that he had to be a professional. Here, though, he could act as possessive as he wanted. And damn, if it doesn’t turn me on.
“Why were you dancing with him?”
I roll my eyes. “Why were you flirting with that woman?”
His lips quirk up, and I get lost in the way he slowly smiles so knowingly at me. He clutches my sides tighter, digging his fingers into me. “I didn’t realize we were exclusive,” he teases right back.
I witness his smile shifting though. He’s more pensive, and as he gazes at me, I can’t miss the real question he has to feel with his words. He was the one to ask me to label this between us. And I’d fumbled there—big time. If only I could’ve found the guts to be honest. Deep down, I like Dalton a lot, but I refuse to acknowledge it. I can’t. Doing so would make me too vulnerable to heartache, and on top of being so lost in life, I wouldn’t survive that kind of a hit.
“Are you going home with Hayes tonight?” he asks in a harder, more taunting tone.
I narrow my eyes at his snark, as though he’s daring me to say I am. He’s clearly trying to rile me up. Or if he isn’t, he’s again putting me on the spot to declare what I’m feeling right now. If I won’t say what I want or don’t want with Hayes, then I should be clear about him.
Honestly, I only want to be with you.
I swallow, trying to find the courage to say it. I’m spared from opening my mouth when Lauren and Caleb find us. Dalton steps back, parting from me, but he lingers with his hand on the small of my back. Is he anxious to keep his hands on me? Does he hate to let me go?
I gaze at him as Lauren and Caleb talk over each other. Lauren ends up giggling too hard, and it’s infectious, making us all crack up.
“Slow down,” I say.
“I knew that last shot was going to hit her hard,” Caleb teases, holding her to his side.
“We should just stay at the hotel near the bar tonight,” she suggests.
Dalton nods and rubs his face. “I’m not fit to drive anywhere.”
Caleb shakes his head. “Me neither.” He chuckles as he looks at me. “And you’ve had just as much as she has.”
“More,” I correct before we agree to close our tab and head out.
I started out the night with a desire to claim distance from Dalton, and it looks like I’m ending it with an impossible situation of being stuck with him again.
The hotel isn’t far, and with a drunken walk from the bar, we check at the lobby desk for available rooms. Dalton and I both approach the desk, needing rooms. I let him speak up first because I’m too busy gulping cup after cup of water from the ice-cold tank on the lobby counter.
That’s when I receive the trickiest news of the whole night. With the fog of alcohol clouding my mind, the relentless lust I feel for Dalton making my body hum with need, and the annoying irritation I still feel that he only views me as a hookup, I ask the receptionist to repeat what she just told Dalton.
“I’m sorry, but we only have two rooms,” she states with an apologetic smile.