Spiked Lemonade: A Bad Boy Sailor and a Good Girl Romantic Comedy Standalone (28 page)

We lay in silence for several minutes until his hand weaves through my snarly hair and he pulls my face into his, kissing me with quick gentle pecks. As his fingers trace soft circles on my cheek, I feel his mouth curve into a smile against my lips. “You’re perfect,” he whispers into my mouth. “Miss Piggy.”

I press my hand into his chest, lifting myself up quickly. “Hey!”

He laughs. “Why does Cali call you that?” I hadn’t heard Cali call me that in front of him, but I’ll assume that flew out of her mouth at some point last night. Stupid drinks.

I fall back into the pillow and cover my face with my hand. “Ugh. It’s because she thinks I wear too much pink.” I might be guilty of that.

“Oh, I would’ve thought it’s because your cheeks are constantly turning dark pink,” he says, pinching at my cheek lightly. He’s got a thing for pinching at my cheeks, and I don’t think I mind it.

“Don’t call me Miss Piggy,” I beg. “Please.”

“Okay,” he says, kissing the spot on my cheek he just pinched. “I can respect that, Miss Piggy.”
Thanks, Cali!

As the teasing ends, we relax back into the bed, lying in silence, and I feel content just being in his arms like this. It feels right.

Although quiet only lasts for so long in this house, clearly. I hear feet stomping down the hall along with Cali yelling at Tango, followed by Tyler shrieking, “Daddy!”

“Ready for this?” Jags whispers lazily in my ear.

“This is going to get ugly,” I tell him.

“Uh, yeah.”

Cali’s handing it to Tango like nothing I’ve ever heard before. I mean, I’ve heard Cali give someone a piece of her mind, but not Tango. Tango’s sort of just taking it all in but then they both stop as if one of them said something to make it all just end the conversation.

“What do you think they’re saying?” I ask Jags.

He doesn’t respond; instead, he lays his head down into his folded arm.

“What?” I hear Cali snap. “Landon was where?”

“Wait, what’s going on?” I jackknife up, holding the sheet tightly against my suddenly aching chest. “Do you know what they’re talking about?”

Jags looks at me with a wide-eyed look, and I’m feeling a combination of so many different things right now that I don’t know how to react. “What are they talking about?”

With the sheet still in hand, I slide off the bed and grab some clothes out of my duffle bag, which reminds me that I’m still homeless. “Sasha,” Jags finally says. “This literally happened when you were out cold last night.”

“What happened?” I yell back.

Jags sits up, covering his man-parts with the comforter. Note to self: must wash that. “So it turned out that our Zuber driver was Landon. He spouted off a bunch of shit, but I made him leave and—”

“That’s why Tango’s home, isn’t it? He wasn’t supposed to be released from the hospital until today. How did he get home?”

“He took a Zuber car too, hoping it was going to be Landon. No such luck, though,” Jags explains.

“No such luck? He’s pretty much immobile. I’d say it’s lucky he didn’t come face to face with Landon after what the two of you did to him.”

“Hey,” Jags says calmly. “Come here. Calm down for a minute.”

“You knew this and didn’t tell me before…” All I can do is point to the bed.

Jags reaches down to the ground for his pants and pulls them on under the covers. “That’s not cool,” he tells me. “You were more or less out of your mind drunk last night, and I got you home safely to your bed. Imagine if you hadn’t gone home with that other guy and ended up getting in a Zuber car, just you and Cali. Imagine if that driver had been Landon.” Jags hasn’t yet been truly angry with me, but we skipped over angry and went right to belligerently enraged.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t have been in that situation if you hadn’t basically told me to go get experience before I was good enough to be with you.”

“Whoa, what the hell are you talking about?” he shouts, standing up from the bed. “I didn’t say you needed experience. I just told you to figure out the difference between sleeping around and sleeping with someone you care about. There’s a difference, and I wanted you to see that. It was a stupid fucking idea, so I went down to the bar to fix what I had done.”

“Yeah well, now it’s like I’ve been sleeping around. So hopefully you’re happy,” I tell him. I finish putting my clothes on and tie my hair up. “I can’t believe I just…”

“What?” He growls. “Fucked someone like me?”

“Yeah,” I tell him. How could those lips even kiss me before mentioning what happened last night? I don’t understand this.

Jags grabs his shirt and whips open the door before I have a chance to make it there first. “Where are you going, bro?” Tango asks him.

“I’m out,” he says. “I have to get to work.”

“You okay?” Tango presses.

“Great.” I hear the door slam following his last word.

“What was that all about?” Cali asks Tango.

“No clue. He was fine an hour ago.”

I walk slowly and somewhat shamefully out into the living room, clutching a sweater within my arms. “What happened?” Cali asks me.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I tell her.

“Did you two just have an argument or something?” she continues.

I don’t want to answer her or talk about it so I just look through her, wondering if maybe I was a little too hard on him, but he was so fixated on getting me into bed that he just withheld that information from me. Then again, the thought of what could have happened if Jags didn’t show up last night makes me feel ill. Still, he knows what I’ve been going through because of Landon. How could he just not tell me?

“Hello?” Cali says, waving her hand in front of my face.

“Look, girls, I’d get up if I could, but it takes every muscle in my body just to move my damn leg right now. If you don’t want to talk in front of me, it’s cool, but I can’t get up and leave to give you girl time here.”

Cali snaps her head over to Tango, glaring at him pretty much the same way I was glaring at Jags just a minute ago. “Don’t think you’re out of trouble, Tango. We’re going right back to the hospital as soon as I get Tyler dressed.”

“Cal, knock it off. I’m fine. They were releasing me today anyway. Oh, and I love you, babe,” he says, smirking at her. “I just missed you so much I couldn’t wait another day.”

Cali’s eyes grow a little wider as if she’s only focused on the last little bit of his statement. She smiles a little and gently sits down on the couch next to him, curling her body under his arm. For only a brief second, I think the argument is over, but then Cali continues, “I can’t believe you were dumb enough to take a Zuber car home from the hospital. How did no one even stop you? You’re in a goddamn hospital gown with nothing covering your damn ass.”

“I’m good like that,” Tango says, leaning back into the couch carefully.

Cali groans angrily and stands up, grabbing me by the elbow to pull me down toward the bedroom I’ve been occupying. “I don’t have a lot of time this morning, but clearly, something is going on, so spill it,” she says.

“Nothing is going on,” I say, trying to pacify her.

“Okay, so we’ve been best friends for what, twenty-two years now? Something is wrong. And I’ve only known Jags for a little over a month, and I know something is wrong with him too. What happened?”

I look over at the bed and the messy pile of sheets left behind, including the one I dragged over to my duffle bag and left in a heap. “Did you two just…”

I nod slowly and sigh.

“You two just fucked for the first time?” I hate that word. Why does she have to talk like that? Why not phrase it as, “Oh, you two just made love for the first time?” Though, that sounds pretty lame too. I don’t know what exactly to call what we just did but it’s over now, so it doesn’t matter.

By the lack of enthusiasm and movement in my body, she knows the answer and a questioning smile grows widely across her face. “Are you okay?”

I close my eyes, trying to think of the real answer. “I’m fine,” I grit out.

“Then what happened?” she says, opening her arms with question. Cali likes to talk with her hands, mostly because she’s a little too animated most of the time. She can’t seem to make her point firm enough without using her hands and facial expressions for accentuating her statements.

“He failed to mention Landon and what happened last night before…you know…”

“Making love to you,” she clarifies, sounding as if it pains her to speak so cleanly.

“Yes, Cali.”

“So what?” She says. “You were obviously having a moment. Why would he want to ruin it with something stupid like Landon’s name? Anyway, Tango’s taking care of this whole Landon issue today so you don’t have anything worry about.”

“Yeah, that’s why Tango booked it home in the middle of the night?” I argue.

“Because he did that, you have nothing to worry about. Kapeesh?”

“Yeah, great. By the way, I’m supposed to start my new job today,” I sing through a fake chipperness, attempting to change the subject. Or at least, I need to call Dad and tell him I’m starting today. Maybe a text will suffice.

“You actually caved with Daddy?”

“Yeah. I’ll be managing the other office downtown.”

“Well, that’s a good thing. It’s a good place for you to be. Lots of young strapping men around to protect you and that delicate flower between your legs.”

“You’re getting on my last nerve,” I tell her. “I’m sick of listening to you talk to me like I’m some dude in a locker room. Have you forgotten how to be a lady?”

Cali looks at me like I have two heads. “I’m trying to make you realize how stuck up you’re acting, Sash. It’s getting on my nerves. You’ve turned into your mother, and while I love that woman dearly, she’s the definition of a fifties housewife, and you cannot follow that path. You need to have your brains fucked out once in a while, and while I get that finding out about Landon was important, ‘making love’ as you call it might have been better for you than finding out in that moment. Jags likes you. Like, really likes you. And you’re throwing it away. For what?”

How can I throw something away that wasn’t more than a few sexual encounters and some sweet words exchanged? “I think you’re assuming there was more going on than there was,” I explain.

“Um, he serenaded you with the
Top Gun
song last night in front of the whole bar. On top of that, did you see the way he was looking at you while you were slow dancing to a fast song?” She laughs, harder than necessary for the context of this conversation. Jags might be beyond the point of just liking you, Sasha. He’s fallen for you. That much is clear. Don’t be such a dummy when it comes to guys. Clearly, you have them all a little mixed up. You fall for the jackass psychopaths and chase away the big strapping teddy bears with huge dicks. What are you thinking?”

Ignoring the last of her comments, I remind her, “Should we really get into the conversation of ex-boyfriends and track records?” That’ll shut her up.

“Okay, point taken, but you have an hour before you have to be to work, and if I were you, I’d use that time to go and make things right with Jags at the body shop,” she insists.

“I can’t. I have no car, remember?”

“Then I’ll take you after I drop Tyler off, and you can have him drive your ass to work after you apologize.”

Cali pulls me back out of the bedroom and down to the living room where Tango looks miserable with his arms folded tightly over his chest. “I’m going with you. I said I’d take care of this shit with Landon, but it hasn’t been taken care of yet. I need to check your car out first, anyway, just in case he tampered with it.”

“You’re. Supposed. To. Be. In. The. Hospital. Still,” Cali says slowly, annunciating each word. “Why do you have to argue everything?”

“I’m not arguing,” he says. “I’m simply not giving you the option to say no.”

“You have one leg,” Cali says. “Don’t start with me.”

“You’ve been started with,” he says.

“Do you two listen to yourselves? You sound like children arguing,” I say.

“Just like me!” Tyler says from the kitchen table where she’s dangling her feet and slurping up cereal.

“Did she just get herself her own breakfast?” I ask.

“Yeah, we have her trained pretty well,” Tango says through laughter, offering Cali a high-five. And just like that their fight is over. My goodness, they
are
like children.

“What are we doing?” I ask them both. “I need a few minutes to wash up. I’ll let you two hash this out in the meantime.” I leave them to their debate and lock myself in the bathroom.

I look like death after last night and despite this morning’s escapades, I have the worst headache known to man. Sleeping with Jags muted the headache temporarily but with the way things just ended up, it’s back and more murderous than it was to begin with. Drinking that much last night was just stupid, stupid, stupid.

After splashing cold water on my face, I run the hairbrush through my hair, creating a thick mass of chunky waves. Lovely. Whatever…it’ll have to do for today. Normally, I wouldn’t dare leave the house without every hair being perfectly placed, and each lash curled the way it should be, but after this past week, I’ve lost a sense of care for everything. I feel like I’m spinning down a dark hole, and this hasn’t happened to me before. I’m a positive person with a cheerful demeanor and a happy outlook. But right now, I can’t see past the dimming lights hanging above my head flashing: danger, hate, adultery, lies, distrust, and everything else negative I’ve tried to avoid the thoughts of. Maybe this little Southern belle routine isn’t working for me anymore. It doesn’t really fit in this part of Texas anyway. I’ve enjoyed following in Mom’s footsteps up until recently, but Cali might be right. I might have been right the other day when I pledged not to end up cheated on and alone in my fifties. I have to make some changes, and it has to be now.

I line my eyes with a dark liner and put on more mascara than I normally do. The red lipstick is next and once that’s done, I quietly step out of the bathroom and into Cali’s room, where I raid her closet for anything dark and black, anything that’s opposite of Sasha. Screw Sasha. Screw my clean mouth and my proper way of speaking and thinking. Screw it all. Or fuck it, I should say. Why does it feel so damn good to say that? Fuck it!