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"Buzz. Based on history. Disqualified."
Her mouth fell open. "Oh come on! The love story is separate from the ship sinking!"
"You agreed to the rules. No history. Try again."
Grumbling under her breath, she polished off her beer, grabbed another, and wracked her brain. Crap, there went Shakespeare in Love. Was there anything not based on history? "A Beautiful Mind! And don't try to argue a historical event. That counts."
He didn't answer for a while. She knew he was checking loopholes, so Gen prepared for a big fight. "Okay, I'll give you that one. Not a bad movie."
Yes! One more to go. "Oh, oh, The Sound of Music!"
"Buzz."
"It's true and it's a love story!"
"Hmm, let's think about this. World War II. German invasion. Trek into the mountains to escape Hitler's regime. History, baby. Disqualifier."
"I knew you saw that movie and lied about it."
"Julietta forced me to watch it and I gagged the whole time."
She pouted, drank some more, and realized she didn't know too many happy endings. No wonder. They were all fake.
"Give up?"
"No."
He laughed. "Depressing, ain't it?"
A few minutes later, she realized she won. "Get ready to spill."
"What do you got?"
"The Vow." Gen did a little victory floor dance, feeling more triumphant and capable than she had in a while. "I win, I win, I win."
He frowned. "What the hell is The Vow?"
"You never heard it? Channing Tatum, baby. Rachel McAdams gets amnesia in an accident, doesn't remember her husband, and he has to get her to fall in love with him all over again like a stranger. It's so good."
"No way is that based on reality. Buzz."
She shot up. "No buzz. Look it up on your phone--did you bring it?"
He reached over the towel, snagged his phone, and began the search. His disgusted look told her he found it. "This is the most asshat thing I've ever read. Amnesia into a love story?"
She sniffed. "It was very romantic and believable."
"Tatum is so overrated."
"Jealous?" He flopped back down and took a long swallow. If she was honest, she'd say Wolfe beat out Tatum any day, but she'd die rather than admit it. No need to give him a bigger head than he had. Damn, he smelled good though. Clean. Like pine, water, and cotton, with just a tang of male sweat to grab a woman's attention. Thank goodness she didn't think of him in that way. He'd always reminded her more of Adam Levine anyway. Tats, bad-boy angst, and a beautiful soul was a yummy combination.
"The boy can barely act so he takes off his clothes to compensate."
She hooted with laughter. "Says you." His image blurred into two. The crickets chirped music and everything around her softened and became more vivid. Oh yeah. Beer number four and she'd be good to go. No, it was five, right? Her nerves calmed, and suddenly, she wasn't as scared anymore. So she was a runaway bride? So she dumped the best thing that ever happened to her at the altar? So she broke his heart and made him endure endless humiliation?
Big deal.
"Feeling better?" He watched her as she opened her next beer and collapsed back on the ground. The sky spun.
"Yeah. Snooze you lose on the beer."
"I think you deserve them. Just don't want you to get sick."
She giggled. "Remember that time at Mugs they tried introducing karaoke and after too many drinks we got on the bar and sang 'I Got You Babe'?"
His laugh was infections and stroked her ears like a caress. "That was bad news. If anyone put it on YouTube it would've gone viral. Good-bye, respectable hotel career. Good-bye, doctor in training."
"David hated me drinking. Said it reflected on him and the hospital. Said I'd become an alcoholic like my father."
His body stiffened next to her, then slowly relaxed. "You're not a hard drinker, Gen. Believe me, I've seen them firsthand. You had some harmless fun before you became a resident. We were younger then. You'd never do anything to jeopardize your reputation or career."
"Maybe. But sometimes . . ." She trailed off, too horrified to finish. Putting the thought out in the world might make it real.
"Sometimes what?"
She meant to shrug it off. But the world floated above her, beneath her, and she was safe. "Sometimes I wanted to get caught. I fantasized about David breaking up with me and getting kicked out of med school. I craved a huge scandal that would yank my choices from me." Emotion choked her throat. "I got my wish. And I hate myself for it." The shame of not being as strong and fierce as she always believed nauseated her. David was right. He'd called her weak, disgusted at her inability to communicate and do what needed to be done. Every day, he'd urged her to be better, but she'd failed over and over, until she ran like a coward on her wedding day.
"My mother was a drug addict."
Gen sucked in her breath. He spoke softly to the sky, as if by releasing the words into the night they'd be carried off to a magical place that couldn't hurt anymore. She remained silent, waiting for more.
"She'd do anything to get high. Usually it involved starving us both to shoot up, or prostituting her body for a quick blow. I remember once when I was about seven, I got home from school and heard her screwing in the back room. I was used to it by then, so I started looking for something to eat and found some old Cheerios left in the cupboard. When I went to get a bowl, I found her stash. A small bag of white powder tied with a twisty thing. I was entranced. I mean, I was used to seeing her high, but she always hid the stuff well. It looked just like powdered sugar, something I'd put on waffles if I had any."
Her heart pounded so loud she barely heard his words.
"I took it down, opened it up, and realized I could be a user, too. I'd be happier that way. I'd be closer to her--like partners. She was happy when she was high, and would hug me, sometimes sing and dance, and I imagined it could always be like that. I swiped my fingers inside, rubbed it around, and brought it up to my nose. I wanted that coke so bad I shook with it. I wanted to go far away like her and stop being so scared and needy all the time."
He let out a sigh. She didn't say anything, just waited.
"I didn't get the chance. They came out of the bedroom, and when they saw me with the bag, her client beat the crap out of me. I never found her stash again. Guess she was afraid she'd have less if I got hooked."
Her insides hurt. Shame washed over her. Even with her past, her parents loved her, and rallied together. Her family was the most important part of her life. What type of person would she have become if there had been no safety net in her world? No one to trust or depend on or love her unconditionally?
Gen knew pity would make him vomit. He didn't deserve pity anyway; he was too strong for that. She made sure her voice never wobbled. "Motherfucker. Sorry, Wolfe, but I hate your mother."
A surprised chuckle escaped his lips. "Yeah, me, too."
"At least you didn't take the drugs."
"I think I would've. And that's something I never forget. It wasn't strength of will that saved me. Just coincidence."
She wanted to tell him he was full of shit, but sensed an argument. Gen let his words float back up to the sky with the rest of the stuff. He wasn't ready for a deep heart-to-heart, but this was the first time he'd ever shared information about his past. If that was a tiny piece, she wondered if she'd be able to handle the whole story.
"Too bad. I was hoping for some awesome sex secret. Like telling me you really are into dominatrix stuff."
"Sex a
gain, huh?"
"Must be the alcohol." She finished up the fifth or sixth beer, and enjoyed the heat coursing through her veins. The fake happiness would soon turn to depression, but she didn't care for now. It had been so long she let go of control and did something reckless. "David said I sucked at sex."
This time, he rolled over. Those stinging blue eyes pierced into hers and his jaw tightened. "David was an asshole and that's why you left. You don't suck at sex."
The giggles overtook her. "How do you know? We never had sex. I probably do. I'm too in my head, always waiting to see if I'm good enough until faking orgasms became my art."
Fury laced his words. "Let me repeat. He was an asshole, and lousy in bed if he had you faking orgasms. He messed with your head, babe. Don't let him get in."
She waved a hand in the air and tried not to giggle again. Oh yeah, she was drunk. It wasn't so funny before, but now it seemed kind of lame not to be able to rock the bedroom with your fiance. "S'okay. I'm not the sexy type, you know? I'm vanilla. Boring. He even said my kissing was like missionary sex every night. But I know he didn't mean to hurt my feelings. He was just saying it to make me better, so I got some books, but it still didn't really work."
His teeth clenched. She was fascinated by the naked rage flickering over his face, the way he held his body tight as if he was about to explode like some badass superhero. "I'm going to kill him."
She almost laughed, but then he looked a bit too serious. Gen frowned and reached out. She got lucky and hit vision number one, which was real and not the duplicate dancing in front of her. Her fingers stroked his stubbled jaw in an effort to soothe his temper. Damn, she used to be able to knock back five beers in a night. Maybe because she had nothing in her stomach and it had been a hell of a day. Why did he look so mad again? Oh yeah, because she sucked at kissing and he was gonna kill David. "Not his fault. He never wanted to hurt me, told me that all the time. I kinda made him do it by not listening."
"You really believe this shit, Gen?"
"It'll be okay. I'll get a vibrator or something, or maybe take lessons. Kate's mom is a sex therapist, you know. Maybe she can help."
He grabbed her hand and squeezed tight. "I'm gonna rip him apart piece by piece. You are good at sex. You are good at kissing. Are you listening?"
She nodded hard. Ooooh, cool. Three faces now. He was so nice to look at, she could stare at him all day. So much better than evil Kermits. "Uh-huh. You're a good friend. My fault though. You don't know how bad I am at it."
