Playing It Safe

CHAPTER THIRTEEN


No streamers. Got it,” I say while scribbling it down on a notepad. “Anything else that is a total hard limit for you?”

“Pi?atas,” Josie adds and sneaks a peek at her mom. “Sorry, Mom, but I hate those things.”

Vanessa laughs. “Well, if I would have known you hated them so much, I wouldn’t have made you suffer through them every year.”

“I don’t blame you,” I say. “Those things explode and kids lose their ever-loving minds. It could be pretty dangerous, if you ask me.”

“Tell me about it,” Vanessa agrees. “See this scar?”

She points to a faint line on her forehead about two inches long that I would have never noticed had she not brought it to my attention.

“My dearest baby brother Alex was swinging away at a pi?ata with a baseball bat at his eighth birthday party. Instead of hitting the pi?ata, he hit me square on the head with the bat.”

“Holy shit!” I quickly cover my mouth and apologize for cursing.

“I’ve heard a lot worse, Julia,” Josie says while giggling.

“So what happened?” I ask.

“Nine stitches,” Vanessa says with a shrug while smiling. “Wasn’t so bad. My face was covered in blood though, and Alex took to calling me Carrie for a few years, that’s about it.”

“Right. Definitely a big no on pi?atas then.”

Vanessa nods in agreement and then pulls her keys from her purse. “All right, kiddo. Time to get moving so you can finish your homework.”

Josie launches out of her chair and comes to where I’m sitting. She carefully wraps her arms around my neck, giving me a big hug that makes my heart melt a little, further dispelling my awkwardness around kids. Well, not all children, just other people’s kids really. I’m sure once it’s my turn to have them, I’ll be fine, or at least I hope so for the kid’s sake.

“This party is going to be awesome, isn’t it?” she asks enthusiastically.

“Totally awesome,” I say and hug her back. “I promise.”

She walks away with a huge smile on her face, back to her mom, who is waiting by the door to my office. Vanessa mouths a sincere “thank you” to me before hooking her arm in Josie’s and closing the door behind them.

I wave good-bye to them and get back to work, thinking I was all kinds of stupid the other day when I met Vanessa and I was a little afraid of what she might think of me. In my defense, I did want to make a good impression on her, but I really had nothing to worry about. She is extremely easygoing, and I can tell where Josie’s great personality comes from.

A couple of hours later I’m about to start packing it up for the day when Lisette pops her head into my office with keys and purse in hand. “We’re going to happy hour at Rio Station and so are you.”

“I’m really tired,” I groan. “I’ll catch up with you guys next time.”

“Nuh-uh. You’re going. You’ve been cooped up in here all week, and I can tell you need a drink or two or three. Don’t worry, I’ll be your designated driver if you need one.”

The thought of having a few cocktails does appeal to me. “Okay, you twisted my arm. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll meet you over there.”

Her satisfied smiling face disappears behind the door, and I rush through getting my things packed before heading over to the bar. I probably could have walked there, and I would have arrived quicker than sitting in South Beach traffic at five o’clock on a Thursday night. Because didn’t you know that Thursday night happy hour is the new Friday night happy hour? Thank you to the a*shole who came up with that brilliant idea. Like there was something wrong with going to happy hour on a Friday night.

When I arrive at a very crowded Rio Station, I spot Lisette and Sarah right away at the far end of the bar along with several other people from not only my office but from the gallery too. I stop in my tracks and canvass the area to see if Alex is here. As best I can tell from my current vantage point he’s not, and I feel a small pang of disappointment. I start moving toward them again until they finally spot me. Sarah raises her mixed cocktail up in the air, waving it back and forth like a lunatic. Some of it spills, just barely missing Lisette, who is also waving me over, sans drink.

“You made it!” Sarah squeals loudly and pulls me into her arms for a big hug. “Yay! Lisette, look! Julia’s here!”

While her back is turned, Lisette brings her hand to her mouth, tipping back an imaginary drink and pointing to Sarah, signaling that she’s already tipsy.

“Sarah, how long have you been here?”

“Since four-ish, I think,” she slightly slurs. “Alex let us leave early today.”

“Don’t worry, I already took away her keys,” Lisette whispers in my ear.

“Is he here?” I discreetly ask them.

Sarah’s attempt at a low voice fails spectacularly when she yells, “He’s over there talking to some guy, and he’s totally eye f*cking you right now.”

She raises her arm to point in the direction behind me, and I clasp my hand around her wrist to bring it back down. “Dude, what the hell?! Don’t point at him!”

“Julia, he was already looking over here,” Sarah says, defending herself. “Relax, let me buy you a drink.”

Lisette moves aside to make room for me at the bar as Sarah tries to get the bartender’s attention. When he finally notices us, Sarah proceeds to order a round of tequila shots, which Lisette politely declines, leaving me to drink two in quick succession. Nobody put a gun to my head, but you can’t just leave free alcohol lying around. It’s bad luck or something like that. With the effects of the tequila coursing through my veins, making me feel all warm and fluffy—for now, because if I do another two or three of those shots I’ll be feeling all gross and want to vomit—I order myself a beer and plant myself on a barstool. The three of us hang out for a while, chatting it up about nothing in particular. About an hour and another couple of beers later, I’m officially tipsy but not sloppy just yet. It’s that really good stage where I’m not going to get sick, but I’m not feeling any pain either. Either way, there is no chance I can drive home. So while I still have my wits about me, I dive into my purse and hand over my keys to Lisette. Meanwhile, Sarah, as usual, is being approached by a couple of guys. Poor bastards, they have no clue what they’ve just signed up for.


After Lisette grabs my keys, she leans in a little closer with a questioning look on her face. “So?”

“So.”

“Please, Julia. You know what, ‘so.’”

“No, I don’t know what ‘so,’” I answer with a sly grin.

“What are you going to do about Alex?” she asks.

I push some of my hair off of one shoulder while pretending to adjust myself in my seat. I sneak a glance to where Alex is still staring at me from across the bar. Holy hell! If you could see the way he’s looking at me right now. You know how Dracula can do some freaky shit with his eyes that make you want to offer him your neck so he can suck your blood? Well Alex’s stare makes me want to stand up and grab him by his loosened tie and lead him into the nearest darkened alley. It’s an entirely effective look that I’m seriously considering when Lisette taps me on the shoulder.

“I’m very disappointed in you,” she says in an annoyed voice.

“Why? What did I do?”

“This is not like you, sitting over here and hiding like a scaredy-cat from some guy.”

Dammit, she’s one hundred percent right. I do not sit and hide from anyone—usually. The only problem is that this isn’t just anyone we’re talking about. Even after the other night on our date I’m still not sure how to act around him without feeling as if I can’t find my footing. Come to think of it, why hasn’t he come over here to me? Unless he’s trapped under something heavy all of a sudden, there is no reason he can’t walk over to me and at least say hello. A little something is all I’m looking for, for f*ck’s sake! I don’t think that’s asking for too much.

Gah! I need to stop this hamster-spinning-on-a-wheel crap. I will not turn into a full-on neurotic crazy person because of Alex. Nope. At least not today.

Screw this waiting around and trying to psychoanalyze the hell out of this situation. I’m going in.

“You know what? You’re right.” I take another swig of my beer before waving the bartender over again and ordering myself another shot of tequila.

“What are you doing?” Lisette asks.

Sarah, who was temporarily detained by flirting with yet another guy, notices the shot glass being readied in front of me and claps her hands together. “Oooh, more shots! Can I have one?”

Lisette and I answer her with a resounding, “No.”

She frowns. “Bummer.”

“Julia needs some liquid courage,” Lisette explains to Sarah.

“For what?”

I toss the shot back without a second thought. It burns going down my throat, but after a few seconds I’m okay and I stand up. I take a second to steady myself in my high heels before wiping my hands nervously on my jeans. My dad used to say if you want something bad enough, you have to fight to get it. So here I go, fighting for what I want and hoping that I don’t make a complete jackass of myself in the process.

“For this,” I tell her as I grab my beer bottle off the bar. “Wish me luck.”

I get as far as two steps away from them when I hear Sarah start chanting behind me, “Work it, own it, work it.”

God, she is the worst wingman ever, but bless her heart, she means well.

Maneuvering through this crowd is a pain in the ass. Sweaty people bumping into you by accident and on purpose are annoying as hell. The on-purpose ones are the ones you have to watch for. They try to be all Fonzie smooth about it, but it’s usually a tool looking to hit on you. But all of it is worth it when my eyes feast upon my intended destination. He’s casually leaning against the back wall of the bar by himself like he hasn’t a care in the world. The corner of his mouth curls up in a sexy grin with every step that brings me closer until I’m finally standing right in front of him.

He slowly pushes himself off the wall and crowds my inner sanctum, sending my senses into overdrive with his proximity. “I was wondering how much longer you were going to make me wait.”

His sexy as all get-out voice is already wreaking havoc on me, and I’ve only been standing here two seconds, three tops. And my God he smells good. Like seriously good and magically delicious.

“I was wondering the same thing about you.”

His hand comes up to move the hair off my neck, and the slight brush of his fingers against my skin sends a jolt straight down to my happy place.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I already told you the other night, you don’t make me uncomfortable, Alex.”

“I don’t?” he asks in a playful tone. He dips his head so he can whisper this time in my ear. “Are you sure about that?”

While he’s still close and the tequila is making me brave, I exhale, and in my best come-hither voice say, “You make me anything but uncomfortable.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me since you arrived?” he asks.

“Are your legs broken?”

His brow furrows in confusion. “Last time I checked, no.”

“Well if they’re not broken, then why the hell didn’t you just walk on over there to see me?” I lean forward a little to whisper in his ear. “Maybe it’s because you’re the one who’s uncomfortable.”

Alex chuckles when he says, “Touché.”

“Yeah, right,” I mumble and put some much-needed space between us.

He’s full-on laughing now. “You’re really upset with me for not coming over to you, huh?”

I take a quick sip of my beer, thinking of something clever to say. Nothing. Totally shooting blanks here.

He leans into me so closely that I feel the stubble on his jaw against my cheek when he whispers into my ear. “Cat got your tongue, Julia?”

I can’t rationally explain what happens next when Alex tries to stand up straight. It could be attributed to quite a few factors. Let’s break it down, shall we?

            1. Alcohol.

            2. He’s too close to my mouth.

            3. I haven’t had sex in a loooong time.

            4. He almost made me have the best orgasm of my life a few days ago.

            5. Refer to numbers 1 through 4.

All of these factors make for a dangerous blend, so instead of letting him get away from me, I lazily run my fingers down his tie with my free hand. He looks on, entranced by my movements when I reach the end and wrap it around my hand in a tight fist. I tilt my head up to meet his piercing blue eyes at the same time I give a small tug on his tie to bring his face closer to mine. I’m determined to win this tug-of-war between us just once.

“You know, Alex, I’ve been thinking a lot about our date the other night.”

“Which part?” he asks with a raised brow. “And be very specific.”

Alex scans my face and drags his teeth across his bottom lip. My eyes hungrily follow while secretly willing him via Jedi mind control to do the same thing to my lips, my neck, my breasts, my thighs—I think you get the picture. He tears the beer bottle out of my grasp and taps the shoulder of the nearest body, never once breaking eye contact with me.

“Do I know you?” a man’s voice says.

“Here.” Alex pawns my beer without another word being spoken to this guy who surprisingly obliges and leaves us alone again.


As I’m trying to suppress my laugh, Alex’s hands sweep around my waist and pull me into all his yummy hardness.

“That was kind of rude,” I attempt to say in an unaffected voice when all I can think about now is riding his dick like a pogo stick.

“Don’t try to change the subject,” he throws back at me. “You were about to tell me which part of our date the other night you’ve been thinking about.”

With another light yank of his tie, I bring his head a little lower until I’m level with his ear. I lick my lips, and my tongue makes the tiniest of contact against his earlobe, eliciting a gasp of breath from him. “I’ve been thinking that I wish I didn’t have ground rules at all between us the other night.”

Alex hisses and stills his movements. I finally have the upper hand, and it feels fantastic.

My victory is short-lived. Because if there is one thing I’m certain of where Alex is concerned, the man likes to be in control just as much as I do. He breaks out of his stupor, spinning me around and then backing me up against the wall. My breathing accelerates into a choppy rhythm while his remains even.

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” he asks in a calm tone of voice, further rattling me.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Because if you’ve had too much to drink, Julia, then I won’t attempt to find out exactly how far I can break your ground rules. I don’t want to take advantage of the fact that you’re even a little bit drunk because I want you to remember everything I do to you.”

“Oh.”

“So tell me,” he demands quietly. “How drunk are you right now?”

“I’m not drunk, Alex.”

Technically I’m not, but I’m definitely not sober. In addition to that, I’m turned on and there is nothing worse than being in this state and knowing that there is no relief in sight from him tonight. My fistful of his tie unfurls from my grip and falls back into place against his lean frame. I try to escape from being pinned against the wall, but his grip on my hips tightens and keeps me right where I am.

He leans in and cups the back of my neck with one hand. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home. Alone,” I snort.

“You’re really upset with me, aren’t you?” he asks with a lighthearted chuckle.

“I’m not upset.”

I’m really not. It’s more that I’m frustrated that he chose this exact moment to be honorable. I do respect that, but at the same time I wish he would forget about honorable intentions and just take me home and have his way with me.

He scans my face and lets out a reluctant sigh. “Let me take you home.”

“Lisette’s my DD for the night. So you don’t have to worry about me.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “You are upset with me. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“No, we’re not ‘getting somewhere.’ If we were, you’d be taking me home, and we’d be really getting somewhere.”

All traces of humor vanish from his eyes when he drops his hands from my hips and then brackets them on both sides of my head instead. “Trust me, Julia, if you weren’t drunk right now …”

“I’m not drunk,” I quickly correct him.

“Fine. If you weren’t a little drunk, I’d take you home and do all sorts of things to you.”

“What kinds of things?” I ask breathlessly, and he grins a shit-eating grin since he knows he has me, hook, line, and sinker.

“First, I’d make you take off all of your clothes for me … slowly.” His eyes stay locked on mine, gauging my reaction when his hand slips under the hem of my blouse and brushes against my skin. I suck in a breath at the contact, wanting so much more and wishing we weren’t in a crowded bar at the moment. He continues torturing me by running his fingers lightly across my stomach and then stops when he reaches the button of my jeans.

I run my fingers through his hair before grabbing a handful and playfully pulling his head down. Lining my mouth up to his ear, I lick my lips and then quietly say to him, “Then what would you do to me? And be very specific.”

Alex exhales against my cheek and says, “Then …”

“Um, excuse me.” Lisette’s voice interrupts the very vivid play-by-play Alex was starting to get into.

Letting go of my light grip of his hair, I peer over his shoulder because he hasn’t moved an inch. Lisette has Sarah on her arm, who has the goofiest smile on her face and is definitely in sloppy drunk territory.

“We’re leaving. Do you still need a ride home?” she asks with a tilt of her head to acknowledge Alex still crowding me.

“I’m coming,” I tell her, and bring my attention back to him.

“That’s exactly what you’ll be saying to me—several times,” he rasps, enticing me further. Immediately he drops his hands and moves to the side to let me go with them.

The smug motherf*cker—and I say that in the most endearing way possible—has me drooling with lust and practically losing my balance as I take my first steps toward Lisette and Sarah.

“Good night, ladies,” he calls out to us. I spin my head around to get one last look at him. He’s still smiling, and worse, the dimples are out, only adding to his gorgeousness.

I think I mumble an unintelligible good night back to him, but I can’t be sure because my thoughts are still between picturing taking my clothes off for him and imagining all the ways he could make me come. It’s not until I get outside and the salty ocean air floods my senses that I’m snapped back to reality.

And it’s a suck-ass reality. One that involves me going home alone again with my lady parts screaming at me for taking that last shot of tequila.