Spiked Lemonade: A Bad Boy Sailor and a Good Girl Romantic Comedy Standalone (23 page)

I find myself clutching at my purse harder than I was a moment ago. “What ride?”

“Life…this thing we do every day where we wake up, take a few breaths, eat some food, sometimes get lucky, and then repeat. It’s a ride. You can hang out in the slow-as-a-slug lane, or you could merge on over to the fast-as-fuck lane and feel the wind in your face and make your heart pound out of your chest. The choice is yours, but I think I’d rather show up at my grave with smoke lit up in my path.”

Who knew Jags could be so insightful. I haven’t looked at life that way. Everything has happened in a straight line for me, but I’m not sure I like the idea of falling off the curb and taking any shortcuts. “I don’t know…”

“You don’t know what?” he asks. “If you want to live?”

“No, I mean, if I want to live the way you’re suggesting.”

“I’m not suggesting you live the way I do. You should live your life the way you want to live your life, but you might get jealous when you see how much fun I have versus how lame your ways can be.” If he didn’t have his brow raised against the rest of the cockiness encompassing his face, I’d think he was being a jerk, but I don’t think he realizes he sounds kind of offensive. I don’t think he realizes he is just plain old obnoxious most of the time.

I feel like we just got completely side-tracked and distracted from what I’m trying to figure out, which is whether there is something going on between him and Greta. If there is, that’s fine, I just don’t want to be involved. Maybe I could try to live a little, but I’m not up for sharing or having a relationship only in bed.

“Well, I know I couldn’t live like you because I don’t have that many boyfriends at one time. But I suppose maybe I could try out the fast lane sometime.”

“Whoa, whoa…I don’t have multiple boyfriends. In fact, I don’t have any boyfriends.” I angle my head to the side, squinting through one eye at him. He knows what I meant. “And for the record, I don’t have many girlfriends either. I don’t have any.”

“What do you call the women you sleep with, then?”

“Women,” he laughs.

“Is that all you want with me?” I ask him.

The smile drains from his lips. His eyes pinch at the outside corners, and his brows arch inward. “I thought I just told you I like you. I’m pretty sure I even sounded like a twelve-year-old boy saying so. If all I wanted from you was sex, believe me, you’d know it by now.”

I feel the need to take a few steps back, needing space and air. Suffocation is a new sensation I’ve come to know since this whole ordeal with Landon. I feel like the world is after me and is just using me the same way Landon did. In the past, I trusted everyone in my life unless they gave me a reason not to trust them. Now I’m thinking everyone should be guilty until they prove their innocence with me. I’m obviously making Jags my first candidate for this. “That doesn’t mean your reason for liking me isn’t so you can see what’s under my clothes.”

“In all fairness, I already saw you naked, but I did like what I saw and there’s a good chance I’d like to see it again, but it’s because I like—you know what? No, forget this shit. You’re hot as hell, Sasha. I like the way you laugh, even though it’s a rare occasion when I hear it. I like the way you smile, even though that also doesn’t happen often enough. I like the fight you put up to protect yourself, and I like your stubbornness that lands you on the side of a road near a tornado.”

“You mean stupidity,” I mumble.

“Yeah, that too. That was pretty fucking dumb.”

I break my glare at him and look down at my fidgeting fingers. I was dumb and stupid for thinking I’d be okay with a busted tire. If Jags hadn’t come to get me, I would have been in a lot of trouble. Why is this man confusing me so badly? He’s so blunt about what he wants and likes, and yet I can’t make up my mind about what I feel for him. Yeah, he’s hot, and he’s funny. He’s also a manwhore, former or not; he slept around to cure boredom. “I know.”

“You know what you need to do?” Jags says suggestively.

“What?”

“You need to go pick up a random stud at a bar and have him fuck your brains out. It’ll make you feel better. Once you live through that, you’ll understand why I’ve lived the way I lived. You’ll also realize that even though you’ve screwed some random loser, you’ll still like me because you’ll realize I care about you and I’ve been doing my damnedest to make you laugh and smile…not to mention, you were willing to jerk me off in a dark bathroom when all you wanted was some toilet paper,” he says, ending his argument with a wink.

I’m pretty sure the wind has been sucked from my lungs when I realize what he just suggested. “You want me to go pick up a random guy at a bar…”

“Yes. You need to live a little.” How could he tell me he likes me and then insist that I go give myself to some man? “I’ll tell Cali to take you out some night this week. That girl needs a night out too. I’ll watch Tyler for her.”

“You’re out of your mind,” I tell him. “I can live a little without going to bed with a man I don’t know.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he says. “Maybe you don’t have it in you. There’s nothing wrong with that—living life in the slow lane. You’ll get to see a lot more and watch everything zoom by you. I guess that’s a plus.”

Who is he to say I don’t have it in me? Anger is searing through my body, and maybe a little resentment too. “I’m not living in the slow lane. I did just sit on the side of the road in a deadly storm, so…”

“Well, I mean…I don’t know, Sasha. It kind of seems like you are. And if I’m not mistaken, you called for help. You’re also alive and well and probably getting a new car out of it, so I’d say you’re okay.”

I’m tired of him taunting me. I’m not living in the slow lane. Or if I was, I’m done now. He doesn’t think I’ll actually go through with his little ploy to get under my skin. Well, I can play his game

JAGS

“I DON’T FEEL
right going out tonight while Tango’s still in the hospital,” Cali tells me. He was supposed to get out two days ago, but one of his incision sites got infected so they made him stay put for another few days. “Plus…I thought you had a thing for Sasha? Why are you telling me to go get her laid?” Cali gives me her signature questioning look and plops down on the couch next to me. “I mean, it’s been sort of noticeable that the two of you haven’t said much to each other over the past couple of days.” We haven’t said a word to each other, actually. She’s pissed at me for suggesting she go screw someone. I get it, but she’ll thank me later. I think.

“I already asked Tango if he cared about you taking Sasha out. He said no, so I wouldn’t worry about that. Second, it’s a part of my plan. Just go with it, okay?”

“She’s my best friend, Jags. You need to clarify yourself a little more,” Cali tells me.

“Look, does Sasha need to know what a real dick feels like or does she have enough experience to say she’s lived a little?”

“Oh, no, she hasn’t lived at all. According to her, Landon’s dick was the size of a pencil,” Cali says while slugging down half of her beer.

“Wait, she’s only ever been with pencil dick?” I clarify.

“I’m not even sure we can say she was with him. She said he had a hard time getting hard so who knows how far his pencil actually got. I feel like I shouldn’t be telling you this. Sasha would want to hurt me if she knew I said anything.” No wonder she’s afraid to live and experience more. “So, okay, just so we’re clear…you want her to get some real experience before you jab her with your cannon?”

“That’s not it,” I tell her. “She won’t actually go through with this. By the time she actually agrees to go home with some dude, she’s going to realize she’d rather come home to me.” I follow Cali’s lead and slug half of my beer too. It’ll be the first of many tonight.

“That’s a pretty sick game, one you could easily lose. Why even push her to do something like that if you want her to come back here to you? And I’m not too sure I like the idea of this. There are so many freaks out there, and God knows who she might go home with tonight.”
Go home with
. Hmm. I didn’t consider the thought of it going that far. It won’t. She wouldn’t.

“I’ve had my fair share of heartbreak. Chicks don’t look to me for a relationship, and the only reason Sasha wants one is because she hasn’t experienced the luxury of not having to commit to someone.” That’s my reason for all of this, and I need to stick with it.

“Have you ever considered that maybe no one will commit to you because you tell chicks you like to go suck another dude’s dick?”

“Just to be clear, I never suggested she suck someone off.”

“Well, exactly what do you think is going to happen when you send her out to get laid. Did you give her a list of rules…what is and is not
allowed to happen?” Cali asks, sarcastically.

I get it. I know this sounds ridiculous, but I need to know that I’m not a rebound for that loser, Landon. I don’t fall for girls like I seem to be falling for Sasha. I do like her, and I want to see where it could go, but I need to know her feelings are purely for me and not just the result of an ache in her groin she doesn’t want to admit to. If she sleeps with some guy and then comes back to me with that cute little smile of hers and the big googly eyes she doesn’t realize she’s giving me all the time, then I’ll know she truly likes me for the right reasons. I’d rather lose a chick this way rather than realize later on that she’s found someone with fewer tattoos and who’s a little less rough around the edges to settle down with.

“I think you’re being an idiot,” Cali tells me.

“Just help her find someone, okay?”

“It’ll be my pleasure to get that girl laid. Trust me,” Cali says. For some reason, the way she says this…does make me second guess my plan, but the second ends quickly and I remind myself it’s for my own good.

“But don’t let her fall in love with him,” I tell her as she stands up from the couch. “And make sure she uses protection.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. Cali finishes the rest of her beer and slaps the glass down on the table. “Tyler needs to go to bed by eight. No scary movies and she can’t have beer yet.”

“Got it, Boss. Just tequila.”

“Shut up, Jags,” she grits while walking toward the hallway. “Sasha, get your cute ass out here! It’s time to go, pretty lady,” Cali yells. I hear a bunch of clatter from down the hall, followed by Sasha walking into the living room.
Holy, hot damn, I’m making a huge ass mistake.
“I knew that dress would look awesome on you.” Cali is admiring what I believe to be her handy work and tugs at Sasha’s dress to create more cleavage.
Come onnn
.

“Yeah, I kind of like it,” Sasha says, smirking at me. It’s black. It’s tight. The hem ends right below her butt cheeks, and she’s wearing four-inch heels that make her legs look way longer than they’re supposed to. Her hair is actually off her neck, which I haven’t seen and it’s in some kind of tousled mess that looks like she just got fucked. And dark red lipstick. Give me a break. She’s totally punishing me right now. I have my beer pressing firmly over my cock to prevent that show from happening, but the pain is real.
The
.
Pain
.
Is
.
Real
.

“Thanks for your suggestion, Jags. I think, maybe you were right about this. You’ve been a good friend to me,” Sasha says, smiling in mock innocence.
Friend?
Oh hell no, she’s not friend-zoning me.

“I’m not trying to be a good friend,” I tell her, sounding a little like I’m growling. I’m not trying to, or maybe I am.

“Well, whatever the case, thank you. I need this. I’ve been…” She looks over at Cali, and Cali raises her brows, urging her to say whatever she’s trying to say. “So horny for weeks now. Someone needs to ease this pain between my legs.”

I think someone just kicked me in the nuts. Yup. That’s what I feel like right now. I might actually puke from the nut-kickage going on. “Maybe I was wrong,” I say, not wanting to say this. Am I groveling?

“No, actually, just the opposite. You’re a genius. I’ll be so much less stressed out if I can just get this little situation taken care of,” she says through stuttering words, making me think this isn’t something she prepared to tell me. Yet, she’s still saying it.

“Situation?” I question her.

“Like you said, I need to know what living in the fast lane feels like. Fast and hard…that’s the way it should go, right? Or should it be hard then fast?”

“We should go,” Cali says, looping her arm with Sasha’s, giving me the most sinful look I’ve ever seen this chick muster.

“Cal, don’t forget what I said,” I tell her.

“Get the girl laid? Got it. I told you. I’m on it.”

I hate women. I hate all fucking women. Why do they have to act like this?