Chapter 23 (Jackson)
“I love you, sugarplum.”
Ricardo and I exchange a glance.
“I promise I'll call you later, sugarplum,” Tyrone continues. “I've missed you so much. I can't wait to see you, sugarplum.”
“So help me god, if he says sugarplum one more time,” Ricardo says under his breath.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and lean forward. I don't know how much more of this sugarplum shit I can take.
I'm about ready to hand over my balls just so he can feel what it's like to have a pair again.
Is this what I would have turned into if things hadn't gone sour with Alyssa?
Nope. Not going there.
Five more sugarplum's and three ‘I love you's’ later, Tyrone finally gets off the phone.
He turns around and makes a face at Ricardo and I. He's been doing that a lot lately.
Ricardo and I exchange another glance because we both know what's coming, and neither of us are up for it.
“Guys,” he starts. “Y'all could be just as happy as I am if you would both stop being so stubborn.”
I grunt and Ricardo reaches for his beer.
He points to Ricardo first. “You going out and screwing anything in a skirt night after night isn't helping you. You need to walk down the hall and talk to Lou-Lou. I don't care what you say, man...she meant more to you than you're letting on.”
His eyes swivel to me. “And you. You haven't been the same since that night you went to Alyssa's house.”
My entire body stiffens at the sound of her name.
“You've changed, Jackson. You're always in a bad mood these days. All you do is work out and go to the fight club.”
I shrug. “That's always what I've done, Tyrone.”
He tsks at me. “No. You're different. Even angrier. Like the entire world is your own personal fighting cage now.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “I don't think you gave her the benefit of the doubt. I don't understand why you don't just call her up and let—”
“Enough,” I warn.
There's absolutely no reason to call her. Why? So she can just lie to me about Ford again. Make me start falling for her and turn myself inside out.
Been there done that.
I rub my temples...trying to push my other thoughts away.
Thoughts like—What if there is more to the story? What if she's truly sorry for what she did?
Or worst of all? What if I let myself forgive her?
Then I'll be right back where I started.
Having no choice but to lie to her about working at DeLuca's club and my reason for working there in the first place.
And when she finds out, she'll leave me anyway and it will hurt worse.
No, I'd much rather let my anger and venom for her stew. Let it turn me into a cold, heartless bastard.
He blows out a breath and looks at the both of us. “I'm tired of this, y'all. So, here's what we're gonna do. We're going to talk about it.”
I rub my hands over my face. I've had enough of this shit. “Oh for fucks sake!” I roar.
Tyrone stops talking and Ricardo laughs.
Tyrone claps his hands. “Okay, this is progress. Let it out. Jackson, why don't you start first. How did it make you feel when Alyssa hurt you?”
I look at Ricardo and he smirks. “You gonna answer that?”
I get up from the couch. “Fuck no. Let's grab a drink.” I look at Tyrone. “Feel free to stay back and watch some more Doctor Phil.”
“And bake some cookies while you're at it, sugarplum,” Ricardo adds.
Tyrone gives us the finger. “Fuck you both. I was only trying to help.”
I toss him his jacket. “If you wanna help you can buy us a round at the bar.”
Ricardo looks at his phone. “You guys down to try a new spot? It's kind of a hole in the wall, but rumor has it the bartender is easy on the eyes.”
I open the front door. “Fine, but I'm not looking for pussy. I'm just looking to drink.”
***
“Is there something you'd like to tell us, Ricardo?”
Beside me, Tyrone laughs.
Ricardo rolls his eyes. “I guess I just assumed the hot bartender was a girl.”
The giant bartender with frosted blond tips looks up and gives Ricardo a wink.
That only makes Tyrone laugh harder. “Ah. So you do think he's hot?”
The bartender saunters over to us. “What can I get you, boys?”
Ricardo takes a seat at the bar. “Are you the only one who's working tonight? Because there's supposed to be a hot bartender who works here.”
Frosted blond tips and eyeliner aside, the dude's built like a linebacker who could probably give Ricardo a run for his money.
The guy looks offended, so I clear my throat and cut in. “I think what my rude buddy means is—is there a female bartender working here?”
“A hot one,” Ricardo interjects.
The guy gives Ricardo a dirty look before focusing his attention back to me and holding out his hand. “I'm Shane.”
I shake his hand. “I'm Jackson.” I quickly introduce Tyrone and Ricardo.
Shane flips a bottle in the air. “I like you, Jackson.”
Well, now this is awkward.
He flips another bottle in the air and winks at me. “So, you know what I'm gonna do for you, sexy?”
Next to me, Tyrone pats me on the back and whispers, “I'm so glad I came here tonight. This is awesome.”
I'm going to kill Ricardo for bringing us here.
Shane slams his hand down on the bar. “I'm going to introduce you to my employee.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Come again?”
“The hot female bartender...you're interested right?”
I shake my head. “No.” I gesture to Ricardo. “He is. The only thing I want is some whiskey if you have it.”
He fills up a glass and hands it to me.
Ricardo leans in. “When will she be here?” he asks Shane.
He looks at the clock. “In about 20 minutes. But if you're looking for a quick screw, trust me...she's not it,” he says before turning to a different set of customers.
“If she's hot, I'll have no problem giving her a long and slow screw,” Ricardo says under his breath.
Tyrone looks at him and shakes his head. “I already told you, man. You can screw as many women as you want. It's not going to keep your mind off of Lou-Lou. Just talk to her.”
“Drop it,” Ricardo barks.
I finish my drink and put money on the bar. “Ready to go?”
Ricardo shrugs. “Nah. We're here now. We might as well stay awhile.” He swirls the amber liquid around his glass before downing it. “We came here to drink our troubles away anyway.”
I click my empty glass against his. “I'll drink to that.”
***
Three games of darts and five rounds later we walk back to the bar for another round.
Or in my case, stumble because I slammed three shots of 151 during the last round that we had and I'm pretty sure I've reached my limit.
It's semi-crowded now, so we're forced to take the last three seats at the end of the bar.
I'm drunk as fuck, but I notice there's a subtle shift in the atmosphere and it seems like everyone's eyes are glued to the same thing.
When I look up, I find out why.
There's some girl bent over a large cooler located at the back of the bar. Her shiny dark hair cascades down her back, but I'm too focused on the way her perfect little ass looks in the skirt she's wearing to notice much else. She leans down even further and I feel myself lean with her as I notice her skirt rising higher...hoping to be rewarded with a glimpse of her cheeks.
I look over and Ricardo bites his knuckle. “Fuck me that's hot.”
Tyrone shakes his head and looks down. “My dick belongs to Shelby. This is Shelby's dick,” he chants to himself.
Ricardo and I burst out laughing.
It feels good to laugh again. Even if it's only because I'm feeling the effects of the alcohol.
I turn to him. “Goddamn, man. How can you ignore that? Even I'm looking at her,” I say. I point in the direction of where she last was and ignore Ricardo's tap on my shoulder. “I mean, she sure as fuck is putting it all out there. She's obviously looking for attention and a good time.”
I turn to Ricardo, but he's shaking his head at me. I proceed to ignore him. “Looks like you found your quick fuck after all. I bet you won't even have to take her home to get it.”
I swipe my hand in the air. “Hey, hot stuff,” I call out. “Thanks for the free show. But can I get another glass of whiskey?”
When I turn my head back to the bar, I'm greeted by a pair of gorgeous, but furious hazel eyes.
I must be drunker than I realized, because I swear, I see an exact replica of Alyssa standing before me, only with dark hair.
I turn to Tyrone. “Are you seeing what I'm seeing?”
He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, brother. And I think it's time to get you home.” He casts a sympathetic glance at Alyssa. “Look, he's really drunk right now. He doesn't know what he's saying.”
Ricardo nods. “It's true, Alyssa. He's not exactly himself at the moment.”
She crosses her arms over those perfect tits of hers and I groan.
But even in my drunken state, I know this woman is poison. I have to get the fuck out of here.
I put one arm around Ricardo and another around Tyrone. “You guys better get me home before her FBI—sugar daddy... and I do mean daddy because he's old enough to be her daddy...arrests me.”
“Fuck,” Ricardo mutters.
“Bro...shut up,” Tyrone yells.
Before I know it, the glass of whiskey I asked for is being thrown in my face and Alyssa's storming off.