has it been? Ten years? Fifteen?”
I’m livid. Not only is he thinking he can tell me what to do with my life, but he’s mocking me, too. “Who gives a shit?” I go completely still and fix him with a stare. “Let me go, and I’ll give you thirty seconds to get away before I come after you. Consider it an early birthday gift.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” He stares down at me, not at all intimidated by my threat.
I’d like to lock eyes with him, but I’ve had too much alcohol. The room is spinning, so I have to look away. “Oh yeah? What’s your idea?”
His finger goes under my chin and he uses it to turn my head toward his. I look up into his face, unable to resist as he moves in closer. “Let’s try this again,” he says.
And before I know it, his lips are touching mine and we’re kissing.
CHAPTER THREE
The insanity of that kiss lasts only about three seconds before I go ape-shit crazy, punching Lucky in the chest and yelling at the top of my lungs. If I had a weapon, I’d use it on him. How dare he! How dare he take my heart and play with it like it’s a toy!
Lucky releases his hold on me instantly and jumps back, putting space between us so he can better control the situation. I recognize the move from our training. He holds out his hands in a gesture that might be designed to calm me down.
People are looking over at us, wondering what’s up, but this is the kind of place where unwelcome kisses are a nightly event, so no one moves. They’re back to their beers and cocktails in no time, and I’m left with Lucky in the alcove, my heart going way too fast for comfort.
“What are you doing?” I growl at him, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. My lips are tingling. It feels like he’s still there touching me, his tongue licking mine, so I swipe with my hand again. I feel like spitting, I’m so mad.
Lucky looks confused. “I’m sorry. I don’t know . . .”
I look out of the alcove, praying no one on our team saw him do that. There’s no sign of anyone there, though. They’re probably still playing pool. Without me. My heart feels like it’s cracking in three different places.
I grab my purse off the floor and throw it over my shoulder, bending a second time to scoop my phone up. Great. Screen’s cracked. I have to get the hell out of here before I do something worse than I already have. I shove past Lucky on my way to the front door.
Unfortunately, he’s right behind me. “Where’re you going? You can’t drive. You’ve had too much to drink.”
My breath is labored, and I don’t understand why. I run fifty miles a week. I could drop my bag and do a marathon in heels right now if I wanted to, but for some reason I can’t get enough oxygen into my system. Then I realize the problem; I’m suffocating because he’s so close.
“Leave me alone. You don’t need to worry about what I’m doing.” I have a whole lot to add onto that sentence, like I’m not your girlfriend, or Who do you think you are? Or Why are you suddenly interested in me now when you let me go so easily ten years ago? But that would open up the door for him to say things I’m not sure I want to hear. He doesn’t like me, and I don’t like him. Not in that way. Not anymore. That kiss was a mistake, and we both know it. Both of them were.
I don’t shout at him. I don’t say any of the things that would dredge up memories from ten years ago that need to stay gone, even though it might be satisfying to get those words out of my head and out into the world; instead, I search the street, hoping beyond hope that there’ll be a car out there that can take me home.
I fully expect to see nothing, because my luck is complete shit, and yet there, just down the street, is a taxi with its green light on. God himself is looking out for me tonight. Thank you, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. I break into a jog. When I get to the passenger side of the car and lean down, I’m out of breath. “You