She’s right, honestly. I hardly said two words the entire way home. In fact, that’s probably all I said, considering I thanked her and that was it.
“Spill the beans. Tell me about your trip. I need to hear about how fucked up your family is to feel better about myself.” She falls back on her bed, pushing herself so her back is leaning against the wall, her legs spread out in front of her.
How exactly am I going to break this to her? She wants excitement, so I guess I’ll give it to her.
“Well, I ended up fucking my stepbrother.”
I want to laugh at the way it sounds, even passing my lips, especially when I watch the emotions change from confused, to surprised, to suspicious.
Her face falls, and she rolls her eyes. “Yeah, and I gave Santa a blow job. If you’re trying to make up something you think I wouldn’t believe, you may want to try again with something not so backwoods—” She narrows her eyes at me, pausing. “Are you messing with me?”
I push myself up, resting my head on my hand, staring at her, and subtly shake my head.
She waits for a second, expecting I’m going to laugh or blurt out, “Gotcha!”
“Oaklyn Sanders, are you kidding me? Isn’t this the asshole you told me about before when you had to go back home for your stepdad’s funeral?”
I nod. I never did tell her about the kiss we shared. I think there’s a part of me still trying to convince myself there’s nothing to tell. I pushed it out of my mind and pretended it never happened. After a while, I almost believed it didn’t.
Until I saw him again.
Claudia has been my roommate since my freshman year. We’ve managed to stay in the same dorm together for all four years. We almost got moved around last year until Claudia made up a story about her having some seizure disorder. She was frantic until they agreed to let us continue to stay together.
“You need to spill all the details to me right now. I need to see a picture of him, too.”
I reach into my back pocket, forgetting I had shoved my phone there when I hauled my suitcase up the flight of stairs. I pull up Facebook and search for Merric’s page. He rarely posts on there, but I notice he had been tagged in a few pictures from Penelope’s wedding.
I click on the photo that had made my heart stop when I saw it scrolling through my feed, and I hand her my phone. My stomach twists in knots when I see her mouth fall open, her eyes bouncing between me and looking back down at my phone.
“You’re kidding? He looks like he just stepped out of GQ magazine. Look at his shoulders and those arms, holy shit. I think I just had an orgasm.”
I laugh, reaching to rip my phone out of her hands. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
After she pushes me for twenty minutes, I eventually break down and tell her everything from how he showed up here grumpy, to us arguing the entire drive to Richmond, the night at the cabin, followed by the wedding. I eventually give in and fill in the blanks from the weekend of his dad’s funeral, too, going back to when it all started.
By the time I’m done spilling it all, I feel like the weight on my chest is ten times lighter. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to just talk to someone about everything on my mind.
“We need to get you back out on the dating scene, girlfriend. You know what they say, the best way to get over one dick is to get under another.”
I burst out laughing. I’m not sure that’s the exact saying, but it works.
We end up ordering pizza and scrolling through the new shows hitting Netflix, settling on the new season of Ozark.
The days leading up to New Year’s Eve are uneventful. Whiskey Barrel, despite still being busy during the week, doesn’t have our normal crowd. Campus has been quiet, so I can only assume the changes in the crowds have to do with students not returning home.
When Thursday rolls around, I spend more time getting ready, dressing up in my black and gold Whiskey Barrel t-shirt. I curl my hair, pulling the top half up into a messy bun, leaving the rest down. It’s going to be hot working behind the bar, and I’ll want it out of my face.
It’s not even nine o’clock when Jimmy, the bouncer, tells us we’ve hit capacity. A Rebels Havoc isn’t even set to take the stage for another twenty minutes, and the place is packed. I lose track of time once the band starts. I’m in the zone, doing all I can just to stay on top of the orders.
I step into the back, needing to restock the ice when I notice a man leaning against the wall opposite me. His foot is perched beneath him, dressed in a pair of dark denim jeans and a white t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket.
I stop to look, but when my eyes catch the sight of his sharp jaw, I do a double-take, realizing it’s Merric.
My mouth waters at the sight of him. The Merric I’ve come to know has always been dressed like he’s about to head into a business meeting. This side of him looks like he’s ready to shed his jacket and jump on stage with the band.
“What are you doing here?” I shout over the music.
It’s hard to make out his words over the crowd of people. I don’t have time to talk. We have four bartenders working the front bar tonight. I’d be leaving them in a bind if I were gone too long.
I huff, stepping in close to hear him over the music. It’s a bad idea, though.
The woodsy smell of Merric mixed with leather is intoxicating. It takes everything in me not to pull him closer and lick him.
“What are you doing here?” I repeat. “I’m busy right now, so whatever this is about, it’s going to have to wait until I’m off.”
“Okay…” He nods. “Then I’ll wait.”
My eyes narrow into slits, shaking my head in confusion.
“I probably won’t be off for another couple hours, so…” I trail off.
You’re wasting your time. I complete the sentence in my head, although I wish I knew why he’s here.
“I’m not in any hurry. If I must wait, then I’ll wait.”
Jayde whistles at me from behind. When I turn to look at her, she holds her finger in the air, signaling for me to wrap it up.
“I gotta go,” I mutter. “I can’t do this right now.”
Against my better judgment, I look back at Merric, finding his eyes trailing down my body before snapping up to meet mine.
I sigh, shaking my head. It’s hard to get a good look at his face from where he’s standing. The disappointment and hurt I’ve tried to bury over the past couple of weeks stirs in my chest.
I don’t think I’m ready for whatever brought him here tonight.
Chapter Eight
“I got a place for the night. I was hoping you’d come stay with me?”
Merric is leaning against the side of Whiskey Barrel. It’s probably close to two thirty now. Most of the cars in the parking lot have since left, except for a few, which I assume won’t be leaving until tomorrow.
I consider it for a moment. I haven’t seen or spoken to Merric since the early morning after the wedding when he came to my room. The lingering questions in my mind want to know what changed and why he’s here now.
The thought of him coming back for round two hits me, and I shake myself from the fog.
I’m not some plaything he can come running to when he’s looking for some pussy. It seems like that’s all it was to him the last time. One week, that was all it was supposed to be.