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I’m getting shitfaced.
Maybe that’s what I need. I’ll relax. See a better side to things. See a way out. I just don’t wanna talk about it. Don’t wanna talk, period.
Man, I’m dying for a smoke, but see previous point about not moving my ass from this spot. Not yet. It’s warm, comfortable, and there’s a sense of safety. Jet is family.
In this moment, everything is all right.
“Tell me about your job,” I prompt, settling back against the cushions, my jacket dripping melted snow on the couch, icy rivulets dribbling from my hair down my neck. “At that bookstore.”
“You’re changing the topic,” Jet says mildly, kicking back, too, chugging down his beer. His eyes are half-shut. “Work is fine. The bookstore is nice. The boss is good people. Why? Thinking of changing jobs?”
“Ha.” I chuckle at the idea. “How’s the pay?”
“Pay’s fine. But I don’t know if Donna’s looking for more employees.”
“Yeah.” I let my head drop back. “Of course not.”
“Rid. Why don’t you say what’s on your mind?”
Too many fucking things are on my mind. “I need a second job.”
“You work all day as it is. What got your panties in a twist? Saving for a trip around the world?”
“Haha. So funny.”
You have no idea, cuz.
Just then the door clicks open, letting inside a breath of cold air, followed by Joel and Candy. My cue to leave, but at least it saves me from having to answer.
I struggle to sit up, and my stomach lurches, full of beer and nothing else, my vision swimming. “I really should get going.”
“Man, just sit down,” Jet grumbles, shoving me back.
And then Brylee walks in, and my mind stops.
Ooh fuck. Okay, I’m staying.
***
I’m staring. Can’t fucking help myself, and not just because I’m trashed. Damn, she’s pretty. Copper curls caught in a low ponytail, a mouth made to be kissed, and curves made to be touched and licked and…
“Riddick?” she says, her voice hushed.
She remembers my name.
I grin widely and lift my almost empty bottle. “Princess.”
Her cheeks turn pink, and those long-lashed hazel eyes look away. “Yes.”
Yes? She said yes?
God, she’s killing me. She’s pretty much owned me with her soft reply. Ever since I first met her here at Jet’s apartment one day, I’ve spent nights dreaming of her, of what I’d do to her, how I’d take her, how she’d moan my name. How she’d give herself to me.
But she turns and follows Candy to the kitchen without another word.
I blink and rush to climb to my feet, weaving like a drunk.
Which I am.
