Wasted (8 page)

“
Yeah,” Hawk drawled
sarcastically, “let me know how that works out for you.”

“
You got a French maid
costume, Lexi?” Cade asked.

“
Shitfire, Cade, don’t be
asking her questions like that.” Mason cupped his warm palm around
my arm and scooted me farther down the bar, away from Cade. He
stepped up to the edge of the counter beside me.

Cade laughed and took a swig of beer. He put
the bottle back down on the coaster with a soft thud. “I’m not as
bad as they’re trying to make me out to be, Lexi.”

Hawk cocked his brows and shot Cade a
sideways glare.

“
We’ve seen your
apartment,” Mason countered.

The corners of my mouth tilted upward as
they continued to banter. Mason dropped his arm around my shoulder
and squeezed me to him. “I can’t let my girl Lexi get mixed up with
the likes of y’all.”

“
Y’all?” Hawk looked
surprised. “How the hell did I get mixed up in all of
this?”

“
You’re guilty by
association.” Mason nodded toward Cade.

“
Cade Mayfield. Still
causing trouble, I see.”

We all turned to see a strawberry-blonde
slide into the empty barstool beside Cade.

“
Seren!” I screeched once
the recognition hit me. Stepping around Mason, I positioned myself
in front of her. She stood on the edge of the barstool and leaned
over the counter giving me an awkward hug. “You look great!” I had
always admired her elfish features, and she looked quite beautiful
as she pushed a wave of red-gold hair over her shoulder.

“
You do, too!” She dropped
back into her seat.

“
Hey, Flanagan,” Cade
greeted her. “We were just taking a poll to see who had a French
maid costume.”

“
I’ve got one you can
borrow,” Seren assured him as she placed her hand on his
shoulder.

“
Can I borrow it while
you’re wearing it?” Cade cocked his face in her
direction.

“
That depends on how many
drinks you buy me.”

Cade pulled some money from his pocket and
tossed it on the bar in front of Mason. “Get her whatever she
wants.”

Mason gazed at Seren as he waited for her to
order.

“
What’s good?” she asked
me.

“
Everything Mason makes is
good. You want to try a Pear Martini?”

“
That works,” she agreed
and looked back down at Mason. He nodded to her, picked up Cade’s
money, and went to make the drink.

“
So when did you get in
town?” I asked.

“
Today.”

“
It’s been forever since
I’ve seen you in person.”

“
I know, and now here we
both are, back in the big city of Creekview.”

Mason set her drink down in front of her,
and she immediately took a sip. “That is good.” She clasped my
hand. “Too bad you’re working. I wish you could have a drink with
me.”

“
I’m off tomorrow. If you
don’t have anything planned, we could get together.”

She frowned. “I’m tied up with family stuff
for a few days, but I promise I’ll call you after that.”

“
Maybe we could all go out
together.” Seren motioned in a circle that encompassed Mason, me,
her, Cade, and Hawk.”

“
That would be fun,
wouldn’t it?” I turned to Mason, hoping he agreed.

“
Absolutely. We should do
that.” While his answer was pleasant enough, he seemed a little
less enthusiastic than usual.

“
I’m in,” Cade agreed. He
turned to Hawk. “How ‘bout you?”

He sighed dramatically. “Somebody’s got to
make sure y’all don’t get arrested.”

“
That’s the spirit.” Cade
slapped him on the back.

***

At the end of the shift, Mason drove us
home. We’d begun riding to work together more and more frequently,
and I enjoyed our conversation in the car. But he was quiet
tonight.

I sat at the kitchen bar, watching him as he
made kamikazes. He pushed the drink across the bar until it stopped
in front of me.

I took a sip. “Whoa!”

“
Yeah, they’re pretty
strong.”

He took a long gulp of his while I took
another tiny sip.

“
You’re never going to get
drunk at that rate.”

“
Is that a bad
thing?”

“
No, but how am I going to
find out what you want me to do when you’re drunk if I can’t get
you drunk?”

“
What makes you think I
wouldn’t want you to do the same thing when I’m sober?”

That got his attention. He was propped
against the counter in front of me, his angular jawline shadowed by
whiskers, his eyes partially hooded as he studied me. My breath
caught in my throat at his intense perusal. I had the urge to slip
my fingers into his hair as it brushed against his shoulders, to
pull him to me. But we were separated by the bar, and I was frozen
in my chair.

He downed the rest of his drink, his Adam’s
apple bobbing as he swallowed. The empty glass clinked against the
granite as he set it down.

“
You drink too much,” I
whispered.

“
I drink because I have no
reason not to.” He poured himself another one and downed it. “You
going to drink with me?”

I took another sip, and he laughed.

“
Yep. You’ll definitely be
the only bartender I know who’s never gotten drunk.”

And it was true. I had never gotten drunk. I
wasn’t sure I ever wanted to get drunk. When I was out with my
friends in college, I was usually the designated driver or the only
one who was responsible enough to make sure everyone got home in
one piece. I stared at the barely-touched kamikaze in front of me.
He already thought I was a prude. I picked the drink up and
mimicking Mason, I downed it.

I don’t know how much longer we went on like
that, talking and drinking. I couldn’t remember how many drinks I’d
had, but I was pretty sure Mason wasn’t filling my glass nearly as
full as his own. It didn’t take much more until I was feeling the
effects. I said something incredibly silly and giggled like a
twelve-year-old.

“
You’ve had enough,” Mason
said from his stool beside me. He picked up my glass and finished
it for me.

“
And you
haven’t?”

“
Yes,” he agreed, “I
probably have.”

I smelled alcohol, although I couldn’t be
sure whether I smelled it on me, him, or both of us. “Now you can’t
accuse me of never being drunk.” I straightened up on my stool. “I
hope I don’t get sick and puke.”

“
You haven’t drunk that
much,” he whispered as he stared into his glass and swirled his
drink. He turned to look at me. “You’re a little tipsy, but you
shouldn’t get sick.”

“
That’s good to know.” I
giggled, though I had no idea what was so funny about
that.

“
You should probably go to
bed,” he said softly.

“
Don’t you want to
know?”

“
Want to know
what?”

I reached out and rubbed my fingertips along
his jawline. “Don’t you want to know what I’d want you to do to me
if I were drunk?”

He captured my wrist in his long fingers and
brought the fingertip of my index finger to his lips. Placing his
lips around it, he gently sucked it, his warm, wet tongue gliding
over it. “Hell, yeah, I want to know, which is exactly why you
should go to bed.”

I leaned into him, pressing my shoulder
against his arm to steady me. “I want you to kiss me,” I whispered.
“I want to feel your….”

“
Shh.” He released my
wrist. “Let’s not talk about it tonight, love.”

“
But….”

“
You can tell me tomorrow.”
He stood and pulled me to my feet.

I stood, slightly swaying, my feelings hurt.
“Okay,” I agreed, suddenly wanting to retreat to my room. I turned
and headed toward the hall.

“
Lexi?”

I stopped and glanced over my shoulder, my
hand groping for the wall to steady myself.

“
Good night.”

“
Good night,
Mason.”

***

A loud noise yanked me from sleep. My heart
thudded as I tried to orient myself to the room. I could tell it
was still dark outside, so I couldn’t have been asleep long, maybe
a couple of hours.

“
Dammit!” I heard Mason’s
muffled curse.

Springing from the bed and realizing all too
late that it probably wasn’t a good idea, I stumbled to the door
and opened it. Mason’s door was slightly ajar, dim light spilling
from the vertical slit. I crossed the hall, groping for the wall in
case my footsteps faltered.

He sat at the edge of the bed in his boxers,
his head in his hands.

I watched him through the crack, but he said
nothing further. The reek of alcohol was strong, and I wondered how
long he’d stayed up drinking after I went to bed.

His door creaked as I pushed it open wider,
but he didn’t look up.

“
Mason?”

He lifted his head and tried to focus with
bloodshot eyes. “What can I do for you, love?”

“
Is everything
okay?”

He grunted, his lips curving into a sad
smile. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” he muttered, his
words slurred. “Between my mother and her….”

I stepped into his room. A small broken
picture frame lay across the room, a scuff mark marring the beige
wall where he had thrown it. I gingerly walked over and picked it
up, careful not to step on glass with my bare feet. The photo was
of a young blonde in her twenties, a little boy and girl on either
side of her. “Is this your mother?” I hadn’t seen this photo the
last time I was in his room. And I had no idea to which other
female he referred.

Instead of responding, he clutched his head
and let out a frustrated groan.

I crossed the room, bringing the photo with
me, and knelt at his feet. “Mason?”

“
I’m drunk, Lexi. You
should leave.”

Unsure what to do, I watched him a moment
more, but he never looked up. The whole time I had known Mason he
was quick to smile, always in a pleasant mood. It was difficult to
watch him flounder in pain, especially when I didn’t know how to
help him.

Rising to my feet, I straightened his
pillows. Maybe if I could get him to sleep, he would be back to
himself in the morning.

I patted his pillow. “Why don’t you lie
down?”

“
I can’t sleep. I got all
this shit in my head, eating at me. I need another
drink.”

“
That’s the last thing you
need,” I said softly, kneeling at his feet. “Look at
me.”

When he made no effort, I gently pulled his
hands away from his face and cupped his cheeks in my palms. “Just
lie down. Everything will be much better in the morning.”

“
I can’t sleep.”

“
You don’t have to sleep.
Come on. I’ll lie down with you.”

I coaxed him to stretch out, his tall frame
covering one side of the bed. I crawled onto the mattress and
leaned over him. “Isn’t that better?”

“
Lay down with
me.”

“
Okay.” I stretched out on
the pillow beside him.

“
Come over here.” He
motioned to me with his hand.

I sat back up. “What?”

“
I want you to lay down
with me.”

He stretched his arm across the pillow and
motioned for me to lie next to him. Not sure if he knew what he was
saying but wanting to keep him calm, I laid my head on his arm and
stretched out beside him, leaving a modicum of space between
us.

His arm wrapped around my shoulders and
pulled me over next to him. His shoulder was warm beneath my cheek,
and I maneuvered onto my side, wondering where to lay my arm. He
grabbed my wrist with his free hand and pulled my arm across his
torso.

I could hear my heart beating in my ears,
and I wondered if he heard it, too. His muscles were sleek and
hard, and I exhaled a shattered breath.

He squeezed me to him, his hand resting at
my waist. “You’re the first girl I’ve had in bed that I didn’t want
to have sex with.”

“
Thanks?”

“
I mean…I want to have sex
with you, but not like this. Not when we’ve both been drinking.
You’re the kind of girl who deserves romance and flowers and all
that kind of shit.”

He blew out a breath, and I could tell he
was trying to eliminate whatever poison had distressed him. He was
beginning to quieten, and I imagined the alcohol was probably
pulling him into a deep sleep. “I spend a lot of time listening to
people’s stories, Lex, but I have no one to listen to mine,” he
said quietly.

His chest rose and fell, and I traced his
tattoos with my fingertips. “I’ll listen, Mason.” I didn’t know
what he was keeping pent up inside of him, but it was causing him
to self-destruct in kamikaze fashion.

But instead of telling me his story, he
replied with soft, even breathing.

Chapter
7

Kiss Me

Lexi

I woke up to my butt firmly snuggled against
Mason in an air-tight spooning session in which I didn’t recall
participating. His arm was wrapped around my waist, his fingers
tucked between me and the mattress.

A shot of adrenaline rushed through my
system, making me wide-eyed and a bit nervous. I was no virgin, but
it’d been a while since I’d been with anyone other than my last
boyfriend. And being this close to Mason put a little extra zing in
the lower half of my body.