Sweet Forty-Two(12)

“That smile?”

“Oh, ha, no...” Out of the corner of my eye I caught CJ and Regan turn their heads in our direction. “Six weeks ago was that good for Jake.”

Lissa looked over my shoulder. “Oh for the love of ... is he still following you around like a puppy? Can’t he take a hint?”

Without asking, I slid two beers in front of Regan and CJ. Looking at them, still talking to Lissa, I continued. “Hints don’t matter if you know what you want. You just go until you get it.”

CJ grinned and nodded. Always on my wavelength. Regan, though, looked down and shifted in his seat. He didn’t particularly strike me as a prude, and I’m certain CJ would have warned me if anyone in his gene pool behaved in such a manner, but he always looked uncomfortable when I was around.

“When’d you dye your hair?” CJ cocked his head and looked at me like he was working through an algebra equation.

“Wow, it’s only taken you twenty-four hours to realize my hair is a different color than the last time you saw me?”

“What color is it supposed to be?” Regan piped up.

I lifted an eyebrow as my eyes slowly shifted to him. “It’s supposed to be any color I want it to be.”

He rolled his eyes. I didn’t much care for his “I’m too good for this scene” attitude.

“Black.” CJ blurted out, sounding annoyed if my ears interpreted things correctly.

“What the hell’s your problem?” I felt like I’d been asking people that all night.

CJ shrugged, staring at me rather incredulously. “That guy, G? Really? He looks like a massive douchebag.”

Regan and I laughed at the same time. “CJ,” I caught my breath, “I’ve been picking up guys like that for as long as you’ve taught me how they operate.”

“Did you just call me a douchebag?” His eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas.

“I did.” I set my hands on my hips.

“Well, none of us deserve you.” He winked. I’d never seen him wink to any girl he was taking home, so I’m not sure exactly what the hell he ever meant by it.

“As long as you know that, I’d say we’re all set here.” Just then, the door opened, escorting in those annoyingly beautiful people. I nodded to the door. “Your band is here.”

Holding hands as they walked, they made my stomach churn.

“What’s that look on your face?” Regan’s rich voice sent chills down my back. Where he couldn’t see.

“Do they ever stop smiling? Are they always that happy?” I nodded to the prom king and queen.

Regan’s eyes seemed to dull for a minute. “Which do you want me to answer first?” He tried to chuckle, but it wasn’t sincere.

“Neither, my food order is up.” Before the syrup that was Bo and Ember could ooze over the bar and onto me, I made a break for the kitchen.

Standing next to the stainless steel counter, waiting for the rest of my order, I ran through as many busy thoughts as I could to keep my mind away from last night.

Lissa saddled up next to me, snapping her fingers at the line cook before speaking to me. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

No.

“I saw you leave with Dex last night.”

“You did.” I nodded, bile rising through my body.

“Aw, shit,” she groaned, “is he bad? He looks like he’d be amazing in bed.”

My shoulders twitched a little. “He was ... okay.”

“That blows. Will he be in tonight, you think? You know, part of the puppy brigade with Jake.”

“God, who knows.” As I reached for an oversized bowl of soup, my hand slipped, dumping steaming hot liquid down my right arm and the front of my shirt. “Shit!”

Lissa tossed me a rag as I silently cursed the * who would order soup in a place that rarely dipped below seventy degrees.

“Shit, are you okay?” Lissa shrieked.

“Ugh, I need to change my shirt, and take this f*cking cuff off, now that it’s probably ruined. Can you take the food to my table?”

“You got it.” Her voice faded as I pushed through the double doors and walked to the back room.

I cursed again when I crossed the threshold and tore off my cuff, casting it onto the tattered couch.

“G?” CJ rapped on the doorframe, causing me to jump. “I heard you yell from the stage. Thought I’d come check...” He trailed off, his words plunging somewhere into our past. One we never talked about.

“I’m fine. Fuckin’ soup.” I peeled off my soaked tank top and pulled on an E’s Tavern T-shirt, rolling up the sleeves and tying the back into a tight knot with a hair elastic, right above my lower back.

CJ didn’t even flinch when I was just in my bra a few feet from him. We’d spent so much time together smoking pot in the back room of Dunes back in Provincetown, I’m sure he’d caught more than a glimpse of me in my bra a time or two.

“Well, as long as you’re okay...”

“I’m fine, CJ,” I snapped.

“Christ, all right. What is it with everyone today? Anyway, Regan says the apartment across from you is open”

“It’s in La Jolla, right on the water.” I took off my leather cuff and wrapped it in some paper towel, hoping to salvage it from the cream of mushroom.