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Authors: Corrine A. Silver

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BOOK: Wrecked (The Blackened Window)
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When I released him, he came up laughing, laughing harder when he saw my bloody lip. “Dude, you always make it fun.”

 

Chapter Six

 

 

 

Leda

Justin Timberlake,
FutureSex/LoveSound

 

When I woke in the morning, he was gone. There was a note on the coffee table.

 

Hey Little Girl

Left at 6. Things to do this morning. Call me if you need anything.

Will pick you up at 8 tonight. Call me if you feel too shitty to go out.

—X

 

It was almost nine o’clock. I was still feeling a little worn out, but a lot better than the night before. I went to the fridge for some juice and there was the jug of his ORT, with a note telling me to finish it
. Bossy
. I filled up a glass. It still tasted like shit, but I felt better after I drank it.

I camped out on the couch for the day to catch up on studying, breaking a few times to eat, stretch and make some procrastinatory texts, Facebook updates and Twitter checks. Nothing too exciting was happening in my electronic network of acquaintances, friends and family. I kept my snacking light, knowing that I’d probably drink something heavily caloric that night.

Around six-thirty that evening I started to get ready and felt the beginning of a sweet, excited anxiety about seeing him again. I took a shower and went through my usual ‘going out’ routine. My cell dinged to indicate a text around seven.

 

Hey Little girl—how are you feeling? Still up for going out tonight?—X

 

I feel almost 100% back to myself. I must have had a really good doctor taking care of me last night. I’ll see you at 8. —Leda.

Good girl.—X

 

A little rush of pleasure and butterflies ran through me at that text. Good girl. I wanted to hear him say those words to me, wanted to feel his breath on my neck when he whispered them in my ear.

As I finished getting ready, my phone rang. I answered, not looking at the name, expecting it to be him, but smiled when I heard my mom’s voice instead.

“Hey, Leeds! How’s it going?” She was extra perky.

“Hi, Mom. Good.” I paused, the small bubble of Xander-excitement bursting as I thought about the reality of what school was like. My voice fell some when I answered her in full. “I mean, school sucks. It’s hard. I’m exhausted and it’s too much. But…” I trailed off.

“But?”

I didn’t want to tell her about Xander. I wasn’t sure why. I told myself it was that it was just a first date and didn’t really mean anything yet, but I knew it did. I knew there was something…something spicy, electric, confusing and amazing waiting there. I didn’t want her to try to talk me out of it. I didn’t want her to know yet. I wanted it to just be mine.

“I think I love it. It’s hard, but it’s cool. I don’t know.” I changed the subject, “I went out riding last night and got lost though. Kinda miserable.”

I heard her smile in her voice. “Just be careful. Get some rest tonight then.”

“I’m actually going out with some people from school.”

We spoke for a few more minutes, with her admonishing me not to stay out too late, and me being noncommittal and vague on that subject. It was still great to hear from her and I locked my door with a smile and another blossoming wave of excited nerves when I left.

I was waiting outside, in the balmy fading heat, at eight when he pulled up. When he got out of the car and walked around the front, he looked like something from a magazine, tall, lean and thick all at once, stubble from the day on his face. His broad shoulders just strained his black, slim-fit T-shirt, and his dark jeans fit beautifully. He had some sort of black lace-up boot that disappeared under the perfect break in his jeans. I was distracted by that—
Are his jeans tailored? They just fit too perfectly
.

As he got closer, and his face was better lit by the streetlight, I saw that the left side of his lower lip was raw and bruised, a little swollen. Alarmed, I completely forgot how hot he looked and rushed up to him, stumbling into his chest. He steadied me, a hand on my lower back.

“What happened to your face?”
Shit. Really smooth, Leda.

He chuckled. “Hi, good to see you too. Glad you’re feeling better. You look nice.”

That said, I had put in the effort to bring it—hair up in a twist, dangly earrings and a clingy, but not tight, gun-metal gray jersey dress with some strappy heels. The dress stretched across my chest asymmetrically. I had to be careful, with a chest like mine, anything low cut went from sexy to skanky in a half inch of exposed skin.

“I’m sorry! You look great, hi.” I stretched up and kissed his right cheek, the one without any bruises. “Seriously, what happened? You were unbruised last night.”

“No worries. One of the things I had to do today was my training session. Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. We do a lot of sparring work. You should see the other guy.” He smirked at me. “Let’s go.” He ushered me to the car and tucked me into the passenger seat.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to a club that I think you’ll like, but first a drink and something to eat at my friend’s bar.” He turned on the radio and drove. We didn’t talk too much, just brief inconsequential shit. The bar was clearly in a less savory part of town, not so much unsafe, just a little rougher. He parked behind the building and we went in the back door. He nodded to the bartender, a big burly slab of a man with a shaved head and tattoos down his arms. As I stared back at this behemoth, Xander guided me to a booth, greeting a few other patrons as we passed.

“The owner is my friend, Jason. The bartender is one of the guys I train with.”

“Is he the guy that gave you the bruise on your face?” I asked, kind of shocked at the idea of the two of them facing off.

“No, no, he’s just beginning. I’m gonna go grab some drinks.” He went to the bar and leaned over to talk with this huge man, smiling. He nodded in my direction while saying something and they both laughed a little. The bar had black-washed walls except for one of exposed brick at the back that was covered with the usual liquor and beer signs. It was only slightly crowded, with guys that looked like they worked with their hands and beat their bodies up for a paycheck every week. The few women there had that same toughness to them, with maybe a touch more polish. Xander came back with our drinks, both…lemonade?
That’s weird.

“What’s with the drink?”

“We have a long night ahead of us.”

Ummmm, what now?

“Frank will bring something else over in a bit.”

“Long night? What do you have planned?” I sipped the drink and only when the fresh, cold sweetness washed my throat did I realize how dry it had been.

“I want to watch you dance,” he said with a dark, devious twinkle in his eye.

I loved dancing, had loved to go clubbing in Chicago. I loved the press of a roomful of bodies moving to the same loud beat. It could drown out thoughts of anything else and make it so easy to forget whatever was going on in your life, but it wasn’t the best first date—too loud to talk. I put on a smile, determined to be game for whatever he threw at me.

“So, thanks for looking after me last night. I just feel so stupid to have gotten lost in a new town.” My mood sagged a little thinking about the entire shitstorm that had led up to it. “I had a kind of frustrating day at school that ended on a sour note and I just wanted to forget about it, you know?”

He leaned in. “What happened that was sour? You can’t let Dr. Malcom get to you.”

He was referring to the histology professor who was notoriously hard to please. My Friday afternoon lab was his class. “No, not Malcom. It’s just really different here than it was in college or in Chicago. I’m still working on making friends.”

“We’re friends.” The innocence of the words was completely destroyed by the suggestive cock of his eyebrows, the wicked curve of his lips and the slightly sarcastic, slightly erotic tone of his voice.

I smiled at him, but was a little perplexed. “FYI—friends don’t tell each other they want to watch them dance.” I said it with a slightly dirty smile back at him.

“Maybe not
your
friends,” he answered, mirth and heat dancing in his eyes.

His foot nudged mine under the table. I had my ankles crossed and he pushed my feet apart and put his—huge—boot right between my strappy black heels. And with that small gesture, the slightest of contact, my whole body alerted to him. My breath came quicker, my skin was suddenly too tight, clammy, and I felt a flush creeping up my neck.

Frank came over then, a mountain of a man, lumbering into our little sexual innuendo, ending the moment. He set down a tray with two burgers and new drinks for us. I sucked down the rest of my lemonade, wanting to hang on to my wits as long as possible.

“New house specialty—mojitos,” Frank said with a smile.

Up close, he seemed even more massive, and I noticed that he had some random bruises on his neck and arms that almost looked like hickeys. “I’ve never had a mojito. What’s in it? I mean, besides the roofie he told you to put in there.”

Frank’s mouth worked a bit and he looked obviously uncomfortable. I immediately regretted it and stammered, “I’m kidding! Let me do this like a normal person. Hi, I’m Leda.” I put my hand out and Frank glanced at Xander, who wasn’t smiling, but wasn’t frowning either.

“Leda, this is my friend Frank,” Xander introduced him then put my mojito in my outstretched hand. “What do you think of the drink?” he asked, as I took a sip.

It was so refreshing, perfect, crisp and cold. I could easily get really drunk with these.

Frank stood up, glancing back at the bar. “The boss is here.”

I looked back, expecting someone much older than me, but the man I assumed was Jason probably wasn’t older than thirty, standing behind the bar, popping the tops off some beers for himself and his date. He was scruffy, shaggy hair, short beard. He was wearing jeans and a concert T-shirt that I couldn’t read from that distance. His date was stunning. She had big, blonde hair that hung almost to her waist in fat curls, plenty of make-up, with a trim body and great high, small breasts. She was wearing a silver mini-dress with a plunge in front that chesty girls like me look like strippers—at best—in. Even across the bar, she seemed full of life, laughing with a huge smile full of chicklet teeth.

Xander waved them over and they came to sit with us. Introductions revealed that her name was Christy. I kind of expected someone flighty or bitchy, but she was really pleasant.

“So, Leda. Xander tells us you just moved here from Yankee territory? What do you think so far?”

Pause…he was telling his friends about me?

She didn’t wait for my answer, continuing, “It’s so hard to move to a new place, where you don’t know anyone and try to start a new life, but I think you’ll love it here, especially this winter when everyone up north is freezing. I went to school in Boston and remember how ridiculous it was there—so cold compared to the south. But I grew up here and had never seen snow in person before I moved there.”

And she went on and on. She was one of those people that could carry an entire conversation by herself without making anyone feel weird. It made me smile, made me immediately comfortable because my mom was exactly the same. But after a few minutes, Jason clearly gave her a little look or signal, because, she stopped mid-sentence.

“Oh God! There I go. Clearly I talk for a living, right?”

It hit me. She was the weather girl, just
way
tramped up for a night out. I instantly liked her. Jason smiled at her indulgently and I was impressed that these were the people Xander could call his friends.

“Jason, this place is great—a very chill vibe. How long have you been in business here?”

“We’ve been open here for about a year and a half. I really like this space a lot, just very chill—that’s the exact right word for it, but it’s picking up on the weekends in the last few months. Later tonight the crowd will be different—younger.”

My hunger hit me with a vengeance as the initial nerves of the date wore off. So as Jason and Xander talked about the bar business, I finished my burger, which was great, and continued sipping my mojito.

In the course of the conversation, I learned that Christy and Jason had been together for five years, since she’d moved back to Texas to do the weekend, late night weather at one of the local television channels. Since then she had been promoted and now did weeknights and clearly loved her job. At one point, Jason leaned across the table and literally shushed her with his fingers over her lips. She sucked his fingers into her mouth with a twinkle in her bright blue eyes, and I got a flush all over. It was over really quickly, but I was kind of turned on by how into each other they were, even after five years.

Xander leaned across the table and grabbed my wrist to get my attention. “Ready to go?”

Christy dropped Jason’s fingers and looked over at us. “Where are you going tonight?”

Across the table Jason chuckled and wiped his fingers off on a napkin, but then had to adjust himself under the table.

“We’re going to The Nest,” Xander told her, his tone heavy with irony or mirth that I didn’t totally understand.

“Xander tells me I am going to dance for him,” I smirked, getting in on the fun.

He squeezed my wrist. “Not
for
me, little girl. I’m just going to watch.”

Christy grabbed Jason’s hands. “Let’s go too? I haven’t been dancing in forever!” I was actually kind of relieved at the possibility of a little buffer to make the whole first date awkwardness easier—and I really liked Christy.

Jason had a little bit of handshaking and owner-stuff to do at the bar, so he and Christy planned to meet us there. We headed to the back of the bar and Xander opened the door for me, grabbing my hand as I walked through and pulling me in close to him as we walked toward his car.

“I’m glad you like Jason and Christy. They’re my
best
friends. I’ve known Jason since high school. He’s a great guy, tough but not an asshat, you know? And Christy is perfect for him. Sometimes people miss it, but she is really smart, too. She doesn’t talk about it much, but she actually has her PhD in meteorology from MIT. They were one of the factors pulling me here when I was looking at schools. Jason had been down here, promoting clubs and just killing it. He opened his first club about the time he met Christy.” He got my door and held my hand as I got settled in my seat.

BOOK: Wrecked (The Blackened Window)
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