Rowdy (Marked Men #5)(21)
I squinted my eyes a little and tossed back the newly filled shot Asa had placed in front of me with a lifted brow.
“What’s with the look, then?”
Zeb was a massive guy. I think he was even bigger than Rome, which was almost unheard of as far as I was concerned. He was as covered in ink as I was, and with his shaggy dark hair and scruffy face he was one intimidating bastard. I think I was lucky we were friends or else I might have regretted being a dick to him.
“I don’t know what’s more pathetic, the fact you are wasting your game on some random bar chick . . .” He grunted at me when I scowled at him. “Or the fact that you’re a grown-ass man trying to drink your girl problems away.”
I was twenty-five but felt like I had lived a hundred lifetimes from the moment the cops had showed up at the apartment door in the middle of the night to tell me my mom was dead. They had explained that she had taken a bullet when some punk kid tried to carjack her when she hadn’t moved fast enough to suit him. They put me in the system that night and I had never escaped. I had been a grown-ass man since that moment on, and Zeb was right, I should be man enough to face Salem and the way she had me tied up in knots.
“What do you know about it?” I sounded petulant and irritable.
Zeb rolled his dark green eyes and his normally unsmiling mouth twitched at me in unsympathetic humor.
“I know she’s about this tall.” He held his hand out to about shoulder height. “She has a figure that makes it hard to think and eyes and hair that were made to get lost in when the lights go out.”
I felt a muscle tic in my jaw as I leaned on the bar and asked Asa as he walked by, “You telling stories?”
He laughed at me and I wanted to lunge over the bar and choke him.
“Hey, she’s a fox and radiates hot sex and good times like it’s effortless. I was just sharing my appreciation of a pretty girl. It’s not my issue that you can’t seem to see her looking at you like you’re her favorite drink and we’re in a drought.”
Oh, I could see it all right. I just didn’t have the first clue as to what to do with it. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. After that kiss I had a pretty f**king clear idea where everything I was feeling toward Salem was headed, right into my bed, but I wasn’t sure I could handle that. Just her saying Poppy’s name had been enough to tame the raging hard-on kissing her had awoken and had done more to get my head out of my pants than any shock of cold water ever could.
Could I ever really have loved Poppy the way I thought I had if just the sight of Salem, the idea of putting my mouth on her, did more to wind me up than Poppy ever had? I don’t think there was really any way I would’ve been able to kiss Salem if all those feelings I had for Poppy in the past were really as important as I had always made them out to be.
I mumbled something that made no sense and picked up my beer.
“It not just some random chick that I’m trying to navigate around. I know this girl and she knows me.”
Zeb chomped on a piece of ice from his drink and I thought he looked like he could be out in the woods somewhere living off the land. He was the epitome of what a Coloradoan should look like. I thought we should maybe put him on the state flag to represent us all proudly. Yep, I was drunk.
“That’s your problem, Rowdy. You never want a chick to know you. You just want to hit it and quit it so you don’t have to put any effort into it.”
I growled a little and motioned for another shot. “I put effort into it once. More effort than any young man should, and it blew up in my face. I learned that lesson the hard way. No more effort . . . just a good time for me and a great time for her. Everybody wins.”
Zeb made a noise and nodded when Asa asked him if he wanted another round.
“One girl burned you a long time ago, so that means all girls are made of the same flammable material? Gotta say, I always thought you were smarter than that.”
I was getting annoyed. We were supposed to be brothers-in-arms—bros before ho’s—and all that noise. I didn’t ask him to hang out so he could shove logic and brutal clarity at me.
“You don’t understand.”
He rolled his eyes at me.
“No? I was engaged when I got arrested. I loved the holy shit out of that girl. She told me she would wait, that I was her one true love and even bars and time wouldn’t be able to keep us apart. It took a little less than two months for her to stop visiting, a little over six and she was engaged to a ski pro. She has two kids now and drives a minivan. You think that means all women are like that? That there isn’t one out there that would really wait if she loved me?”
We just stared at each other until he shook his head.
“I don’t. I think there are good women out there that will stand by their man no matter what. I think there is a woman out there that won’t give a shit I did time and she will love me anyway and be willing to see what I have to offer now. Sure, until I find her I have no qualms about doing easy—easy has its place and can be a good time. But when it gets hard, when the girl is worth it, I’m not scared to do the work.” He laughed. “I like doing the work, especially when it’s hands-on.”
The liquorish taste of the Jäger danced on my tongue as I tossed the shot back. I needed to stop. Things were starting to get wavy and I felt like if I let go of the grip I had on the edge of the bar I was going to slide off the bar stool and land on my face.