Pushing Limits (Fighting Love #1) - kali cross Page 0,16

If you do-” she says, rising to leave.

“-N-no,” I say, gesturing for her to sit back down. I shrug. “It’s cool….really.” I sneer and roll my eyes. “My parents sent me down to find a husband, too. They want a degree, but I think they could care less if it was in basket weaving or nuclear engineering. Marrying well is my primary objective as far as my mom’s concerned. That is so fucked up.”

“Yeah, someone needs to tell them it’s not 1955.” Sally pours a couple more shots. This one goes down easier…much easier…I can feel the buzz.

“What’s your mom like?” I ask.

“She’s your typical lady who lunches. She spends her day getting spa treatments, shopping, getting drunk with her friends, but calling it ‘lunching’, and banging the latest tennis or golf pro.” She walks over to the kitchen counter to grab another lime. As she grabs one, she places her finger on her chin, her eyes cock to the side, and sinks into a deep curtsy saying, “She’s a model southern belle.” Giggling, she slams down into her seat. “Whoa, I almost fell on my ass.” She laughs and shifts in her seat. “So, do you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, or both? No judgment,” she raises her hand, “but I appreciate it when someone doesn’t automatically ask if I have a boyfriend.”

“I had a girlfriend for a bit.” I explain. “Angela. She was great…really cool. And beautiful. She was fucking gorgeous. Tall, she had the most creamy mocha skin. Super athletic. She ran every chance she got. Her hair was really pretty. She had long curly chocolate brown hair. When she wore it down, it fell right above her ass. Stunning. And she had the most piercing dark brown eyes - They were almost black. When she looked at you, it almost felt like her eyes could burn right through to your soul, seeing you for who you really were. She was intense.”

“Bad break-up?”

“Nope, she died.” Grabbing the Patron bottle, I pour us two more shots. I lick my hand, shaking the salt, yanking the shot back, and slamming the glass on the tabletop. All in an attempt to fill the silence with some kind of noise.

“Wow. I’m sorry.” Her eyes darken with sadness as she reaches to squeeze my hand.

“It’s ok, really.” I move my hand and pour another set of shots. “I've had a few boyfriends, too. I like the person, ya know? I don’t give a shit if it’s a girl or a guy. I guess you could call me an equal opportunity lay.” I smile trying to reassure her that it really is ok. I toast to ambiguity, and slam my shot, forgetting about the salt and lime. Leaning in, I say, “My first love was Josh Sanford. He crushed my heart when I was eleven.” I giggle eager to clear that pitiful look off her face. Her iPhone shuffles to another song. “Ooo, I love this song!” Jumping up, I turn it up and rock out to “I love Rock and Roll.”

Sally heads to the cabinets to search for munchies, her hips swaying to the music. “Damn it. No food. Oh, well.” Closing the empty cabinet, she sings the chorus with me at the top of her lungs. We dance like lunatics, jamming and singing to Joan Jett.

“So, do you have a girlfriend?” I ask, collapsing into my chair. Licking my hand and shaking salt on it, I toss back another shot.

“Nah, I’m not the settling-down type. At least not now.” Her face lights up. “It’s college! Who wants one dish when you are in front of an entire smorgasbord?” She winks as she salts her hand, slamming a shot, yelling, “Oh yeah!” I’m right behind her, sucking greedily on the lime. “How about you?”

“Well, I met this guy today that was really hot.” My voice sounds almost wistful, what the fuck is that all about? Shaking my head, I say, “He’s way out of my league in the looks department, though. I think he’s older, too…Nice to look at, though. Tall, dark curly hair, stunning blue eyes, nice ass.” Leaning in and cocking my brow, I slur, “Damn nice. Muy caliente.” Shrugging, I say, “Hey, it took my mind off things at home.”

“What’s his name? Maybe I know him. “

“Tommy. He works for the school chancellor. He drove me in from the airport.”

“Tommy Bolt?” she asks, surprised. “Here, time for another shot,” she says, pushing the filled shot glass back at