Stroke It - Brooke Page Page 0,18
pills you were really addicted to?” She said boldly. “Or was your addiction something else?”
For as messed up as it sounded, talking about that was easy for me.
“Yes. I took them for a very long time. When I was thirteen, I was in a bad car wreck with my family, although I’m sure you already knew that. We all had broken body parts and bruises everywhere. Lucky to be alive, although I never understood that then. They prescribed them to my whole family. Once my prescription was gone, I’d steal them.”
“What bones did you break?”
“My collarbone, ribs, really messed up my face, too.”
“That’s awful,” she murmured. “How did it happen, though?”
“The car crash? Got swiped by a truck. My dad says it was the truck driver’s fault, but I don’t know if that was true. I’ve read the reports, but he was just looking for a reason to blame someone else for his mistakes.” My eyes narrowed. “He expects everyone to hold themselves accountable for their actions, but he doesn’t take his own advice.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she said sincerely.
“Thanks. I didn’t stop taking the pills until I was seventeen, after my other accident,” I said more softly. That accident, I wasn’t proud of. That one hurt, and I’d never forgive myself for it.
“I read about that one, too,” she said in barely a whisper. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
I tapped my empty beer glass, debating if I wanted another, although I knew I shouldn’t. I needed to change the subject, have a distraction to keep my feelings at bay. I was an emotional guy after a few beers, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not right now.
Standing from the barstool, I held my hand out for her to take. “Want to dance?”
She bit her lip and gazed at my hand, then nodded. I helped her out of her seat, her petite body moving swiftly. I loved her chic dress, the polka dot and flair at the hips wasn’t a traditional style for women her age. They normally wore flashy clothing that was tight as could be, leaving no room to the imagination. I liked those outfits and all, but the unknown was a slow burn, letting my mind run wild with what she would look like naked.
Keeping her hand in mine, I guided her toward the back of the room and through an archway leading to a back deck. The DJ sat on a platform overlooking a dance floor. Go figure, Rocket and Chase were out there with a group of girls, Chase had two grinding against him while Rocket was dancing like a goon in the middle of three. My boys were turning this high class party into a dance fest, and I couldn’t be more proud.
Gunner and his brunette were nowhere to be found.
Raina paused at the edge of the dance floor, letting go of my hand. “Are you sure you want to dance?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to.”
Her eyes searched the area, and I immediately knew what she was thinking. “They don’t allow paparazzi up here. No one will see us.”
“What if there were cameras? Would you still want to be seen dancing with me?”
I smiled and took both of her hands, pulling her onto the dance floor. “Paparazzi doesn’t scare me, and besides, we’re friends, aren’t we? Friends are allowed to dance.”
She nodded, her grin bright once she found the beat of the music.
“Heeeey!” Rocket cheered. “It’s about time you showed up!” The girls surrounding him giggled, their eyes widening when they realized who he was acknowledging.
One of the three slithered toward me, completely ignoring the fact I was holding another girl’s hand.
“Hey, Jet,” she purred, reaching to touch my shoulder.
I dodged her hand, then swiftly tugged Regan into my my chest, swayed away with her, releasing her back as if we were doing a makeshift version of a Waltz.
Regan’s eyelids lifted in surprise when I brought her back into my arms. “You can do more than just club grinding. I’m impressed.”
I smiled. “My mom used to dance with me when I was a kid.” I threw her back away, spinning her once then reeled her in.
“She was a good teacher,” Regan grinned back, squeezing my hand with hers.
“She used to be a ballroom dance instructor. I’d have to hang out with her sometimes while she taught classes if my Dad had meetings.”
Her smile broadened. “I’ve never read that.”
“Are you going to sell it to the