“Dude, you’re stomping all over my game,” Deuce argued, eyeing Daniela. “How ‘bout a drink darlin’?” His voice had a twang to it, making it clear he wasn’t a Brooklyn native.
“Mack’s not outside, Lacey,” Riggs informed me, pulling me away from the distraction Stryker, Deuce, and Cobra provided.
“Guess it’s a good thing you’re here then,” I replied as I pushed back my chair and stood up. “I’m going to get a refill.”
I wasn’t in the mood for Riggs, or any of them for that matter. They all reminded me of Blackie. I made my way to the bar and ordered myself another beer before digging into my pocket for some money.
“I’ve got it,” the person behind me said, stretching his arm around me and slapped a twenty on top of the bar. I glanced over my shoulder and saw it was Brandon. “Consider it my attempt at a truce,” he smiled.
“A truce,” I repeated.
“I shouldn’t have insulted your boyfriend,” he clarified, stepping around me and taking the beer from bartender and handed it to me, clinking his bottle to mine. “I was jealous and out of line.”
I studied his features for a moment and decided he looked sincere enough. I tipped the neck of the bottle to his.
“Thank you,” I said, taking a sip of the beer.
“Friends?” He asked. “I mean I don’t want him to show up and beat the fuck out of me for buying his girl a drink,” he explained.
“We broke up,” I replied, wondering if we were even officially together. “You’re safe,” I mumbled, watching as Daniela walked away from our table with Deuce and the rest of the guys to play pool. Minus Riggs. He probably went to call my father.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Brandon said, taking a swig of his beer.
I looked over at him and raised an eyebrow.
“No you’re not,” I accused.
He brought the bottle down and smiled at me.
He had a nice smile.
Not nearly as nice as Blackie’s.
“Maybe not,” he admitted. “I’m starving, why don’t we order some wings and you can tell me all about it.”
“How about we stick to wings and beer and leave the rest out?”
“Deal,” he said, pressing his hand against the small of my back and guiding me back to the table me and Daniela had been sharing.
By the time we finished the food and Brandon ordered another round of beers the bar was packed and I was actually having a half-way decent time. Brandon was funny and had me laughing which was a breath of fresh air after all the crying I had been doing over the last month, especially the last twenty-four hours.
I turned my head slightly, still laughing when I spotted Blackie standing by the door staring at me. The laughter died as I closed my eyes and prayed my mind wasn’t playing with me.
Not tonight.
Please not tonight.
I slowly opened my eyes, blinking rapidly as I continued to stare at him.
He looked ragged, like he was wearing himself thin and had the weight of the world on his shoulders as he leaned against the wall and continued to stare at me. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. My ears fell deaf to whatever it was Brandon was saying and I struggled to stop myself from standing up and running to him.
I was pathetic.
I saw his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath before he finally turned his head and walked straight toward the bar, ignoring me as he passed our table.
“Are you okay?” Brandon asked, jarring me from my thoughts and away from Blackie who turned his back to me as he took a seat at the bar.
“Fine,” I croaked, turning to look at him. “I wasn’t expecting to see him is all,” I explained as I reached for my beer bottle and pushed it aside because it was empty. I snatched Brandon’s and tipped my head back, guzzling the ale hoping I’d forget Blackie ever walked into the bar or into my life.
“Easy,” Brandon murmured against my ear. “Don’t let him get to you,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as he continued to speak against my ear.
Riggs walked up next to Blackie, and I watched as they downed a couple of shots. Riggs turned around, waved at me and I returned the gesture with a glare.
I bet he called him when he realized Mack wasn’t here.
For someone who is always bitching about me and Blackie and whatever the hell you call this thing between us, he’s always throwing himself in the middle.
Blackie glanced over his shoulder at me or maybe at Brandon but quickly turned back around and shook his head.
“Hey,” Brandon said, placing his index finger under my chin and forced my eyes to his. “Let’s dance,” he suggested.
Dance.
I remember the first time I heard Stevie Nick’s song Leather and Lace and how certain I was that the song was written for me and Blackie. At the time I never thought him and I would ever dance to it but I’d listen to it every now and then and hoped one day we would.
And then that day came.
“Listen to the words.”