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With the way Mia was feeling, having a hard time concentrating, it didn’t sound like a bad idea. It wasn’t something she did—ever. Which made it that much sweeter.
Why did she always have to be a good girl?
Why did she always have to follow the rules?
Why did she always have to make sure she did nothing to upset the status quo?
Other people didn’t.
Her father didn’t.
He did whatever the hell he wanted, including beating her mom, then her when her mother died. He lied. He cheated. He made her life a living hell. And he got away with it up until the end when she finally fought back—with Gabby’s help, of course.
She worked so hard to portray a certain picture. One that said she was dealing with life just fine. One that said she could be fun, yet stay in the good lane.
But she always—always—did what she was supposed to do.
Well, not today.
“You’re right. Vitamin C sounds like what I need.”
A good heavy dose of it.
They both left—separately, of course—after telling their respective bosses they were calling it a day. Under the weather and all that.
After grabbing the first taxi—too excited to make the short jaunt to the subway station—they made it to The Corner Bar a short time later. There was never any doubt where they were headed, even without voicing it.
Mia ordered a large mimosa, heavy on the Prosecco, light on the orange juice. Hey, she was getting that Vitamin C Jezebelle suggested. It would help with her coloring, not look so pale. She chuckled inside at the thought as it rolled around.
Jezebelle ordered her usual—Tequila Sunrise—and barely said a word to Brick, who lingered near them longer than he should’ve when he had a few customers at the other end of the bar waiting for help.
“I swear, if you don’t ask to bone that man soon, I’m going to have to do it for you.” Mia’s brow rose as she pinched her lips in a stern expression. Oh, she meant business. How could Jezebelle not see that Brick had the hots right back for her?
“You’re going to bone him for me?” Jezebelle asked with a snicker, covering her hand over her mouth to suppress the laughter.
Mia rolled her eyes, replaying the words she’d said, realizing how it sounded. “Not what I meant, and you know it. I’ll tell him you like him. That’s what I meant.”
Jezebelle’s laughter died down as she glanced at the other side of the bar before turning her attention back to Mia.
“I can’t. He’s so…so…so…”
“Hot, and you want to bone him.”
Jezebelle giggled. “God, yes. But I can’t.”
Mia took a sip—lie, it was a huge gulp—as she contemplated whether to ask why Jezebelle couldn’t. What right did she have to ask? She couldn’t marry Jaxson. She couldn’t even date him. The reason why…
It was very complicated. Her mind was complicated. Like a barbed wire fence, tangled and mangled so badly, one wouldn’t be able to get through it without cuts and scrapes over every inch of their body.
“Who’s wanting to bone who? I need details.”
They both jumped at the sound of Brick’s sexy, masculine voice that held a hint of jealousy. Jezebelle nearly fell off her stool, while Mia sloshed a bit of her mimosa over the rim.
Brick grinned, yet he didn’t say anything else, as if he expected them to spill their girlie secrets.
Mia subtly nudged Jezebelle, displaying a wily smirk. Here was her chance. She could confess she liked him and score a date. By the look in Brick’s eyes, a good time between the sheets as well. Oh, yeah, skipping work for Jezebelle to get some sex was so worth it. She was a great friend.
Jezebelle had her own crazy smile, as she nudged Mia back as if saying she was going to destroy one of her costumes just so Mia would have to redo it.
