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She didn’t seem to believe me. She reached out again. “Brandt, I’m serious. Don’t—”
Lifting my hands, I backed away some more. “I can’t do this,” I rasped. “I can’t...I’ll be back later. I swear, I love you, but I can’t...I’ll be back.”
Whirling away, I rushed from her hospital room. I felt like the biggest, most worthless coward on the planet, but I just couldn’t stay.
I’d failed my girl in every way possible.
BRANDT
I was going to do something stupid.
Drinking myself blind sounded like the plan of the century. And wasn’t it a lucky coincidence I worked in a bar?
As soon as they announced last call, kicked out the lingering few stragglers, and locked the front doors of Forbidden, I dug up an old bottle of the cheapest bourbon I could find in the back of the stash—something Pick wouldn’t notice missing—and cracked it open before pouring myself a liberal amount into a tumbler.
Shooting the whole thing straight, I hissed through the tongues of fire that lapped up the insides of my throat and ground my teeth as my eyes watered. God, that was some rough shit.
I poured myself another glass. Swallowing that one down, I vaguely realized I should probably care that I wasn’t helping the others with cleanup, but sadly, I was unable to give a single fuck.
“Well, that’s not a very original concoction,” a familiar voice said from behind me, making me jump.
I spun around and winced when I came face-to-face with Julianna. “What?”
She pulled back when she looked into my eyes. Then with a sad, disappointed kind of sigh, she grabbed my arm. “Come on,” she said, dragging me from behind the counter and into the hall toward the back.
Shit. This was going to be bad. I think I’d basically ignored her all night. I wasn’t sure. My head was a fucking mess these days. But she looked pissed.
Deciding this could only be about one thing, I said, “Look,” as she pulled me into the back break room and shut the door. I lifted my hands. “I know I never rescheduled our date, and I’m sorry. I—”
“Oh, honey,” she broke in, letting go of my arm so she could cross hers over her chest and cock her hip in that irritated female way. “Don’t even worry about that. That ship has long since sailed.”
I lifted my eyebrows, surprised. “It has?”
Thank God. We didn’t have to have the talk then.
“Yes. Now talk,” she commanded.
Talk? My brow knit as I blinked. What the hell was I supposed to talk about if we were no longer an issue?
Juli let out that disappointed sigh again. She dropped her arms, which exposed her chest, showing off how tight and short her shirt was. For some reason, I focused on the dark slip of skin flashing at the bottom where her top didn’t quite meet up with her jeans, and panic lit my bones.
It made me think of Sarah.
Visiting my girl every day was killing me in slow, agonizing mini-deaths with every breath I took. The urge to kiss her, touch her arm, smell her hair was present each second.
So far, I’d resisted, being the good and honorable friend I was determined to be. But then she’d been discharged from the hospital earlier today, and the moment I’d stepped foot in her bedroom when we brought her home, I’d been bombarded with memories of being inside her, tasting her, watching her come.
And then seeing her spasm out of control.
Cold sweat stole up the back of my neck.
Sarah was still weak and recovering, so it wasn’t like I would’ve jumped her bones even if I hadn’t made a pact with myself to never fuck her again. But knowing I couldn’t—ever—was getting to me. And the more it got to me, the guiltier I felt for even wanting it.
I needed something to prove to myself that I could return to the way things had been before, back when I was sixteen and crushing on Sarah from afar while having brief, meaningless flings with women who didn’t matter.
I would return to being nothing but her friend. I would! And if the only way to convince myself I could get that done was going to other women, then so be it.
Except Julianna was standing right in front of me, beautiful and available, and I just wanted to run.
