Chapter 6
Laiken
Just driving to the bar helped me to settle my mind. Our small town of Henderson was only a few miles away from Las Vegas. It was easy to lose yourself there. To get mesmerized by the twinkling lights and the star-studded walkways. I hated Vegas. I was bright, loud, and unnecessarily drenched in booze. The Henderson Police Department seemed to get called out to Vegas more than any other place. And for stupid shit, like college frat boys running around with their pants around their ankles. The Las Vegas Police Department was always stretched thin, and Henderson was a bordering town that seemed to always have extra hands on deck.
Why they didn’t permanently transfer people was beyond me.
Either way, there was one thing Vegas was good for, and that was illegal bars. The type of bars I loved even though I worked for the police. The bars that still allowed smoking and poured liquor without a license. The kind of bars that had that stale smell and always had a couple fucking in the back room. In these places, everything was clear-cut. You knew who didn’t want to be bothered, you knew who was looking for action, and you knew when people wanted to be left alone.
I could come into these bars, throw up my walls, and no one would fuck with me.
But tonight, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be alone. I walked into the bar and was hit with a cloud of smoke just as I entered. I smiled and took in the scent, but the scent threw me back to a different time. A time when I frequented places like this with him. We’d find one of these bars and sit in a corner. His hand would slide down my pants, and I’d lean back into him as he nursed his beer. I’d get my rocks off, and he’d lick me off his fingers, then I’d finish my drink before he bent me over his bike in an alleyway.
Jace taught me how to not be scared of what I wanted, and he made sure to always give me what I asked for.
I spotted an empty seat in the middle of the bar. That chair looked like the only sturdy one at the bar, so I sat down and signaled for the bartender. I wanted a bourbon on the rocks. I wanted to feel the burn as it slid down my throat. I wanted to drink away the files I’d seen and remembered a time when my hometown wasn’t riddled with drugs, outlaws, and gangs.
I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to take someone home with me. That was the thing with me lately. I just wasn’t sure what I wanted, which wasn’t like me at all. After I had started to pull away from my mother, I became very open about what I wanted. However, ever since I was back home, it was like my wants and needs have lost their way. As much as I tried to fight it, my mind was pulling me back into the past.
Back into a world where Jace and I still existed.
Staring into my glass, I was reminded of a memory. The first time I ever drank more than he did. I couldn’t even remember how the argument started, but soon the two of us were chasing shots of whiskey with our beers. We were seeing who could hold their liquor the best, and the loser had to do whatever the winner wanted them to for twenty solid minutes. I could remember the burn of every single shot. I could remember the way Jace’s eyes narrowed at me as I kept up with him. I could remember the shocked look on his face when the room started swirling for him, and I could remember my triumphant victory before I dragged him back to my place at school.
I sat on his face in my backyard and rode his lips underneath the pale moonlight, a toast to my victory as I shook against his tongue.
I hadn’t been able to drink whiskey since we broke up. It was all bourbon on the rocks for me. My go-to drink when I needed to think. Think and forget and somehow try to process.
I looked around the bar at all the men who were there. Some of them were decent looking enough. The kinds of men I would pity fuck just because I needed to get me some. Some of them were innocent college guys out here looking for a fun time on whatever break they were on now. But some of them reminded me of him.
And it suddenly hurt too much to continue looking.
It was the little things sometimes. Like a man looking around at me with dark brown eyes. Or a man who had a pair of strong arms. Sometimes it was his height that triggered a memory. Jace had always been so tall. I closed my eyes and remembered the last time he pulled me into him. The last time my lips were able to feel the swell of his rippling chest. My skin puckered at the remembrance of his arms wrapped around me.
It still shocked me to this day how he could pick me up and fuck me against a wall.
My mind began to race, but a tap on my shoulder pulled me from my memories, and I looked up to see who it was.
“Hello,” the man said. “I’m Devon.”
I nodded up at him and threw him a kind smile.
“Laiken,” I said.
“That’s a beautiful name,” he said. “Do you like this song?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure what’s playing,” I said.
“Ah. I just saw you bobbing your head to it, so I thought I would ask.”
“Ask what?”
“If you wanted to dance,” he said, grinning.
He was a good looking guy for his type. A baby face with soft features and a lanky build. His hair wasn’t as dark as Jace’s and his eyes were blue instead of brown. Jace’s eyes had been this strong, stern brown. With green around his irises to remind me of the hunter he truly was. His eyes had reminded me of a forest. Such a foreign concept out here in the red clay of the desert. But every time I gazed up into his eyes I found myself getting lost in his woods. Marching to the tune of my own drum as I weaved around within his soul.
“You have beautiful eyes,” Devon said.
His voice ripped me from my thoughts as I shook my head.
“Oh, thank you,” I said. “That’s very kind of you. Yours are… nice as well.”
“Nice?” he asked, grinning.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m just a bit distracted tonight.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
The man sat down next to me and held his hand up to the bartender. I wasn’t sure if I wanted the company, but the distraction was nice. I hated the fact that every man in here reminded me somehow of Jace. I hated that my mind compared their attributes to his. It had been years since I’d seen him, and it was time I washed him from my mind.
Maybe I just needed to get underneath someone in order to get over him.
“Just a long day at work,” I said as the bartender slipped him a beer.
“Would you like another one?” he asked.
“No, thanks. I’m driving,” I said.
“I could sit here and talk with you until you’re sober,” he said.
He was sweet, which was something Jace had never been. Jace was rough around the edges and never sugar-coated anything. Romance was not his thing, gentleness was not his thing, and kindness was not something he made a habit of.
But holy hell, was he loyal. Domineering? Yes. An asshole at times? Oh, yeah. But when he loved you, he loved you. When he was dedicated to you, he was dedicated. When he set his mind to something, he didn’t stop until it was fulfilled.
And sometimes, that went a much longer way than just kindness.
“We’ll see how I feel after this one,” I said.
“So, what happened with your day?” Devon asked.
He tipped his beer back, and I noticed he did it crookedly. Jace never did that. His was always straight up. Head back, neck exposed, vulnerable just for a second. I lost count of how many times I’d kissed that neck while he was mid-chug. How many times I’d raked my teeth across his pulse point and rose his cock to perfection.
I hated myself for this. Here was this kind man who was easy on the eyes trying to do his best to make me feel comfortable, and I was comparing him to an ex. An ex I hadn’t seen in years. An ex that, for all I knew, didn’t give a shit about me. Didn’t spare a thought for me at all. Hell, Jace probably didn’t even remember me.
I thought I was stronger than this. I thought I was over it. I thought I could come back into this town and resume life as normal. But I couldn’t. Apparently, I wasn’t as strong as I thought. All of the memories that were triggered just in this random bar were about to drown me. And I was in a place I’d never been before! I couldn’t imagine the memories that would flood my system if I ever walked back into a place Jace and I had frequented.
It would choke the very life from my throat.
“I just work a high-stress job,” I said. “That’s all.”
“What do you do for work?” Devon asked.
“Classified,” I said, winking.
“Well,” he said, chuckling, “I work in engineering.”
“Oh, really? What kind?”
“Mechanical,” he said. “I work on the air force base.”
“Nellis?” I asked. “Are you in the military? Or a contract worker?”
“Contract,” he said. “And before you ask, yes. I enjoy it greatly.”
“Well, if you won’t tell anyone in this bar-- because there are about seven things illegal in this scenario alone-- I’m a cop,” I said.
“In Vegas?” he asked.
“Henderson. About sixteen miles outside the city,” I said. “And yes, I enjoy what I do.”
He chuckled and tipped up his beer, and still, I was focused on how it was crooked instead of straight up. How the hell could I stop this? How the fuck was Jace still affecting me? I had to try and stop thinking about him. I had to find something to do that wouldn’t remind me of Jace.
And then, a song came on.
“Do you dance?” I asked.
“I do,” Devon said. “Do you?”
“I try when I can. Would you like to dance?” I asked.
Jace never fucking danced. Not in a million years. There was no possible way I could think about Jace while dancing in the arms of this man. It was the perfect plan. And the smile on Devon’s face as he set down his beer told me he was in for the ride. He put his beer bottle down on the bar, took my drink from my hand, then threaded his fingers with mine.
Phase one of ‘Forget Jace’ had officially commenced.