Torn (5 page)

He must be hibernating.
      

“It’s about time you got here,” he said, before whispering something in the woman’s ear while I took my seat. “I thought I was going to have to come looking for you,” he mumbled, turning his attention back to me while his hand worked its way up from her waist to just underneath her breast.

“Are you sure you don’t want to be alone right now?” I asked, suddenly feeling like a third wheel. I understood his primal need to get laid, but I thought he wanted to hang out, just the two of us. At least that was the story he tried to sell me earlier, when he was all but harassing me on the phone to come out. Shit, he even made me feel a little guilty, having blown him off numerous times before.

Without further explaining myself, he understood my meaning completely. Leaning in close to the woman adorning his lap, he whispered again in her ear, something which caused a slight blush to dance across her cheeks before she stood and casually walked away from our table.

“What did you say to her?” I asked, motioning for a waitress so I could order a drink.

“I simply informed her of what I was going to do to her later on, if she was still around when we were finished.” A cocky smile tipped his lips as he ran his hand through his curly tresses.

Shaking my head because I didn’t have any more words for him, I locked gazes with the pretty waitress who quickly approached.

She stumbled as she drew near, first glancing from me and then to my friend. Everything happened in a split second. Whatever vibe I gave off, she knew she wasn’t going to get anywhere with me, so she instantly focused her attentions on Mike. And the horny bastard that he was, he fully played along, even though he’d had another woman practically humping him not two minutes earlier.

“What can I get for you both?” she asked, making eye contact with me first, then going back to eye-fucking my buddy. I wasn’t offended. In truth, I was grateful she wasn’t making any attempt to try and hit on me. Not having the energy required to participate in such a dance, I relaxed in my chair, kicking my feet out in front of me and crossing my legs at the ankles.

“Ow!” Mike blurted out. “What the hell? Why did you kick me?” he yelled, his eyebrows raised and trying to read my expression. But there wasn’t much to tell.

“It was an accident. Sorry.” I shrugged, my apology most definitely insincere.

Turning my attentions back to the waitress, I said, “I’ll take a scotch. Single malt. Neat. Give me the best you have.”

“Make it two,” Mike announced, gripping the waitress’s hand as she stood close to him. “And can you hurry? You see, my dear friend here hasn’t been laid in a long time, and I need to loosen him up some so he can finally wipe away the cobwebs.” She laughed as her eyes met mine once more, but before I could defend myself she walked away.

“You’re something else,” I huffed, but I wasn’t shocked. Not in the least. He was always going for shock value, never holding anything back. And it was for those exact reasons that he often felt my mother’s wrath. A slight tap to the back of the head, a slap on his arm or even a tug on his ear was often what happened when he opened his mouth around my family.

“What? You
do
need to get laid.” Tapping his fingers on the table, he furrowed his brow and asked, “When was the last time you had sex? And with
yourself
doesn’t count.”

“Not that it’s any of your damn business, but it was two nights ago.”

Where the hell is my drink?

“Yeah? With who?” He wasn’t going to let up anytime soon.

“With the woman I had sex with,” I retorted, arching my brow in mock annoyance.

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled, continuing to strum his fingers on the polished wood.

Finally, after what felt like forever, our waitress returned with our drinks. Not waiting one more second, I snatched it from her tray and took a big gulp without downing the entire thing. As the liquid slithered down my throat, I instantly relaxed. It was no Glenmorangie, but it would do the trick for the evening.

Glancing across the table, my focus was solely on my friend. While he did his best to give off the air of indifference, as if he didn’t have a care in the world—other than fucking anyone he wanted, of course—I saw it. There was a deep sadness hidden behind his brown eyes, but I only took notice because I knew him so well. I also knew if I pressed him too hard, he would blow off my concerns altogether.

“So,” I started, taking another sip of my drink, “what did you want to talk about?”

Without missing a beat, he rebuffed my question. “What makes you think I want to talk about anything?” Turning his head to the side to escape my gaze, he acted like he was scoping out potential bed buddies. But I saw the small crack in his façade. The face he liked to show the world was slipping, and he was doing his best to put it back in place. Nervously licking his lips, he looked back at me and said, “I simply wanted to get you out into the land of the living for once.”

“What makes you think I don’t live?” I asked, reining in my temper at having to constantly defend my way of life to not only my family, but to one of my closest friends. I was tired of making up excuses, it was true, but to divulge the fact I’d been pining over some heartless woman for over a decade wouldn’t go over well either. Never mind the fact I refused to verbalize I’d even been thinking about her. It made me shudder to think how fucked-up my life had become…all because of one person.

Her.

Much like my dear friend, I had put up my own kind of invisible walls, blocking out any kind of connection with the opposite sex. Other than satisfying my baser needs, of course.

Connecting my foot with his shin, I focused his attention back on me. “What the hell, Eli? Stop fucking kicking me.” He gave off the air of seriousness, but a small smile graced his faux irate features.

We stared at each other for countless seconds, time crawling by as we tried our damnedest to read the other person. It wasn’t hard, but the alcohol was definitely making it a little more difficult.

Deflecting my next question before it was even out of my mouth, he threw another at me. “So, who is this mystery woman you shagged two nights ago?” Signaling for our server, he patiently waited for me to divulge all sorts of information.

“Shagged?” I laughed. “What, are you stuck in the seventies?”

“What’s wrong with shagged?” He chuckled. “Would you prefer boned? Or banged? Or maybe you like horizontal mambo?” He was clearly amusing himself, his laughter getting louder the more my face contorted with every lame phrasing.

“There’s something very wrong with you, my friend,” I said, our waitress suddenly standing directly next to Mike. The top two buttons of her tightly fitted white shirt were undone, her cleavage on full show for anyone to see. Of course, it was done on purpose, working for tips and everything. Or maybe she wanted to ensure the man she had her sights on would reciprocate her sudden lustful affections.

Pulling the woman closer to him by circling her waist with his arm, he looked up at her and asked, “Sweetheart, do you find my buddy here attractive?” Before she answered, he threw out another question, embarrassing me even more. “Is he someone you would have sex with?”

Heat rose up my neck, my heart picking up pace from its normal rhythmic routine. I wasn’t usually an excitable man. But putting me on the spot like that was enough to make my fists clench, my jaw muscle jumping in anticipation of what was to come.

Flicking her eyes to me, she smiled. Finishing off by licking her full, pink lips, she basically eye-fucked me while answering his question. “Of course I find him attractive. I have eyes, don’t I?” Although I felt I was put on display, I made sure not to show any reaction. I didn’t want to encourage him. Or her.

“Would you fuck him?”

“Over and over,” was her blatant and simple response. She returned her gaze to Mike, hoping in some way her answer to his ludicrous questions had pleased him. Although she had just affirmed she was attracted to me, she knew enough about the energy I gave off that she wasn’t going to get the opportunity to fuck me
over and over
again.

The sexual tension between the two of them was enough to make me a tad uncomfortable. Did he ask me to hang out because he wanted to grab a drink, or was he trying to entice me into a threesome with this woman? I wouldn’t put it past him. He’d been known to brag on occasion about many threesomes, some involving another man, some involving two women. When I’d informed him I’d never been with more than one woman at a time, he laughed and told me I had no idea what I was missing.

Keeping one woman from falling too far for me was hard enough, let alone two. I wasn’t conceited by any means, but it always happened to me. I knew I was a very good-looking man—it was a fact. Did I use it to my advantage sometimes? Sure. I
was
human, after all. But I didn’t think I was God’s gift to the female population.

The reason why my relationships never made it past the three-month mark was because the women always wanted more, and I didn’t have it in me to give it to them.

Not anymore.

Turning my eyes back to the display in front of me, I sighed out loud and strummed my fingers on the wooden table top, catching their attention immediately.

Arching a brow, I asked, “Are you done now?” He never responded; instead, he smacked the waitress on the ass, signaling for her to walk away.

Once we were alone again, I leaned forward and gritted my teeth. “Pull that shit again and I’m gone.”

“What the fuck’s got your panties all bunched up? You never cared before.”

“Well, I care now.” Swallowing the remnants of my drink, I slammed the glass on the table, the sound instantly putting my friend on alert. He leaned back in his chair and expelled a rush of air. Either something was weighing heavy on his mind or he sensed there was something on mine.

“All right. All right,” he surrendered, throwing his hands in the air. “I’m sorry. Obviously, you are not in the right mood to be fucked with tonight.”

“Obviously not,” I retorted. Thankfully, the waitress returned with fresh drinks. I didn’t know if she looked in my direction because I kept my eyes on Mike, glowering at him to drive home my point even more. I could be quite intimidating when I wanted to be, many people had told me so. But it wasn’t working so much on him, knowing full well he always wanted to go toe-to-toe with me. It was irritating and comfortable all at the same time.

Switching the subject was the safest bet for him then, so that was exactly what he did. Lowering his head, he grabbed hold of his neck, trying his best to squeeze out the sudden tension from his bunched muscles. It was a minute before he looked at me again.

“Listen, I’m sorry I was such a dick. Honestly, I am. I guess I was just trying to deflect from what was really going on. I mean…” He stopped talking and took a big gulp from his fresh drink. “I don’t know what to do.”

His raw emotion was a rare thing to witness, so I knew something serious was going on. “What’s the matter? You’re kind of freaking me out.”

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Start at the beginning then,” I offered. We rarely had serious conversations, so whatever was weighing on his mind was a big deal. I mentally kicked myself for avoiding all of his invitations to hang out over the past couple weeks. Before I could chastise myself any more from being a shitty friend, he opened his mouth and blurted out two words.

“She’s pregnant.”

ELI

I
f I’d been in the process of swallowing my drink, I would have spit it out all over the table. My first thought, of course, was that he’d finally managed to slip one past the goalie. Knowing he’d always been sure to wrap it up, I was sure he was confused as hell as to how he’d managed to knock someone up. But then again, he did sleep with a lot of women. At least with the men, he didn’t have to worry about the issue, although that was a train of thought which fought to leave my brain as soon as it entered.

Before I got ahead of myself, however, I asked the most obvious of questions. “Who’s pregnant?”

His immediate response was to pound his fist on the table, rattling our glasses and causing a quick scene. Raking his hands through his hair, he tugged on the strands in frustration. His features instantly changed from confusion and concern to rage.

“Sierra.” Crashing his hand on the table once more, he cursed before repeating, “Sierra is fucking pregnant.” Before long, he went off on a tirade, and being the friend he needed me to be, I sat back and took it all in.

“My baby sister went and got herself knocked-up. She’s only twenty-five, Eli.” Taking a deep breath, he garbled, “Only twenty-fucking-five. She’s a baby…having a fucking baby.”

“Well, she’s not that young.” Leaning in closer, the murderous look in his eyes told me I apparently chose the wrong thing to say. Throwing my hands up in front of me, I mumbled, “Sorry. Continue, please.”

While he was gearing up for the rest of his rant, I signaled for our waitress once more. As if waiting specifically for us to call her again, she rushed right over. “We’re going to need a few more, sweetheart.” It was the first time I really paid her any attention, and the big smile on her face told me she was thrilled. Gone was the reserved man who’d sat in my seat. All of my focus and concern was for my friend and the dilemma he was having, and the last thing on my mind was making sure not to give off the wrong vibe so I’d be pursued that evening.