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“What changed, Lola? Why did you come to me tonight?”
A grimace twisted her face. She looked away, crossed her arms over her heavy breasts and then speared him with a level gaze. He knew he wasn’t going to like whatever she had to say.
“I wasn’t coming to see you, Erik. I was looking for someone else.”
* * *
“OH, I DEFINITELY got screwed.” In more ways than one.
For the second night in a row, Lola found herself at a bar table with her girls clustered around her for moral support.
Only this time she’d insisted on nothing but water. Those damn shots had gotten her into enough trouble already.
No, that wasn’t fair. She’d been tipsy, but she’d been fully aware of what she was doing. By the time she realized she’d crawled into Erik’s bed instead of Sean’s, her libido had taken control and started making the decisions.
Groaning, she said, “I just...couldn’t stop.” And then dropped her head onto that table. Because hiding would definitely make everything better.
Tatum snorted. Hope’s soothing hand rubbed down her spine. And some blessed soul plopped a brownie onto the table in front of her. The sweet scent of chocolate should have tempted her at least to look up. It didn’t.
“It was like no time had passed. Forget how reckless he is. How he nearly got my brother killed. Or the way he just left, breaking up with me by text.” She raised her head, looking around the table. “Text! After dating for five years.”
What was wrong with her? Six years later she was still so pissed at him. But that hadn’t stopped her from wanting him once she’d been in his bed...
She’d told him that she wanted closure. And maybe that was partly true, but there was more. Closure probably should have involved a conversation with words instead of their bodies.
She’d just wanted him.
Because she was weak. Once she’d touched him, it had all come flooding back. The first time he’d kissed her, on the front porch of her house with her dad peeking through the blinds. But Erik hadn’t cared. He’d wanted her father to know he was taking her seriously. The kiss had been so perfect and sweet, but the expression in his eyes when he’d pulled away...it had slayed her. Crumbled her defenses.
Or the first time they’d made love, late at night by the lake. He hadn’t pushed her or expected anything. He’d waited until she was ready and then gave her the most romantic, amazing experience. A hell of a lot better than the first time for most of her friends.
Or the endless, passionate nights they’d shared after. The way he could place his hand on the small of her back and make her feel protected and safe. The expression on his face when he was deep inside her, like she was the only thing on earth worth existing for.
The countless memories that had hurt for six years had suddenly flooded in again, only this time they weren’t tinged with pain. Just this wonderful sense of right that she couldn’t let go of.
Even if she knew it was temporary.
God, she was pathetic.
Sleeping with him had been a huge mistake. And when she’d told him she’d been looking for someone else, his devastation should have made her feel better. Like she’d given him a little piece of what he’d dished out to her. But it didn’t. It made her feel even worse. No matter what had happened between them, she didn’t want him to hurt.
Erik had been hurt enough in his life.
“Dammit,” she breathed out, rubbing her hands over her gritty eyes. She hadn’t slept much last night.
The door opened and raucous laughter followed. Baritone voices boomed above the general din of the place. It was a Wednesday night, but the bar was still plenty busy. Decorated like an Irish pub, it was the comfortable hangout for singles and couples alike in Sweetheart. Dark wood and mellow light gave it a warm, friendly feel even as the high-backed booths offered more privacy than the round table she and the girls occupied.
Lola rolled her head, taking in the group that had just walked in. And immediately straightened.
The last thing she needed was her brother and his phalanx of testosterone-laden friends to see her moping. She just knew word would somehow make it back to Erik. Hell, Colt would probably tell him...if he knew she’d slept with him.
Which she had no intention of ever telling her brother. This was one mistake she planned to keep to herself and her girls.
The group, Colt and Sean among them, pushed through the loitering patrons toward a table at the back of the bar, but they got waylaid when they reached the women.
Gage and Evan slipped up behind their wives, slinging arms around their shoulders or waists. Lola watched Hope and Tatum lean back into their men, a comfortable, familiar gesture that made something in the center of her chest ache.
She’d had that once. Familiarity and comfort. With Erik.
Nope, she wasn’t going there. She would not be jealous of her friends and the happiness they’d found.
Lola pushed out her chair, leaving a space for Colt to roll up beside her. “Hey, sis. Didn’t realize you were out tonight.”
The other guys pulled up chairs, filtering into their group and taking up conversation. Sean squeezed in on her other side, dropping his arm around her shoulders and tangling his fingers into her hair.
She turned and gave him a smile that felt sickly. After what happened last night—and what she’d intended to happen—she was a little uncomfortable with him touching her. It felt wrong for so many reasons. But he wouldn’t understand, so Lola left his hand where it was.
Their waitress came by and took orders. The opportunity for conversation with her girls was gone, but Lola didn’t mind the camaraderie that replaced it.
These were her people. The ones she could count on to be there for her when she needed them most. Inexplicably, she felt the sting of tears hit her eyes. And out of nowhere, Colt grabbed her hand and squeezed.
She glanced over at him, wishing she hadn’t when she realized he was watching her with his calm, steady gaze. For a split second she wondered if he knew. Even growing up, he’d somehow had a sixth sense about when she was headed straight for trouble.
Where’d that skill been last night when she’d needed it?
“You good?” he asked in a soft voice only for her ears.
“No.” Because she’d never lie to her brother. Maybe bend the truth or commit the sin of omission, but never outright lie. “I’m pissed at you. Why didn’t you tell me he was back?”
“Because I knew you’d just build your armor up that much higher. I don’t know what happened between you—I was a little preoccupied and you’ve never shared the details with me—but I do know it’s been holding you back for six years.”
“It has not.”
His level stare lasered through her. “Lola, you haven’t had a real relationship since he left.”
“I’ve dated,” she protested. Which was true. Even if none of those dates had led to more than a nice dinner, some pleasant conversation and occasionally a physical outlet. “And I’ve been busy. It’s hard work building a photography business from the ground up.”
“Try selling that snake oil somewhere else. I’m the one who books your appointments, sends out your invoices and pays your bills. Your business has been established and highly profitable for the last several years.”
She harrumphed.
“Stop using it as an excuse.”
She wasn’t! Or...crap, maybe she was.
“You guys need to talk things out. Take the opportunity while he’s home to get some closure, kid.” Colt squeezed her hand again. “So that you can move on with your life and find some happiness.”
“I’m happy.” She didn’t need a man in her life to be happy. Her gaze drifted across the table to Hope and Gage. His arm was around her shoulders as he bent down, murmuring into her ear. The way Hope leaned into him, the expression of bliss on her face... If she were honest with herself, she’d be stupid not to crave that for herself.
The two of them turned back to the conversation flowing around the table. Everyone else ordered another round of drinks, although Lola stuck with her water. Colt gave her a side eye but didn’t comment.
They were enjoying themselves. Sean was being charming and funny, telling a story that had the entire table laughing.
But the camaraderie was demolished when about a half hour later, the door slammed open again. Lola’s back was to the entrance, but somehow she knew who was coming in before she even turned around.
The shocked, panicked expression on Hope’s face was a dead giveaway. Not to mention the way Lola’s body reacted. Her muscles tightened with tension and anticipation. Energy crackled across her skin. And she could practically feel those gorgeous gray eyes boring into the back of her neck.
She turned anyway. Yep, he was staring right at her. No, wait, he was staring at Sean and the arm he had wrapped casually over the back of her chair.
Oh, shit.
Colt raised his voice in greeting—“Erik!”—and waved him over.
It was like watching a car accident in slow motion. She could do nothing to stop it, though a warning yelp burst through her lips anyway.
“Erik, don’t.”
He didn’t slow down, just barreled across the bar. Colt’s reaction changed, going from welcoming to wary in the space of a second. Unaware of Erik’s real target, he rolled his chair backward, effectively blocking Lola in and preventing her from intervening.
Erik’s gaze flicked to her for a split second, raking her with the heat of his anger, but bounding sideways to Sean.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he growled.
Sean, oblivious to the undercurrent, said, “Oh, yeah? What can I do for you?”
Panic seized Lola. She tried to leap over Colt to get to Erik, but only managed to go sprawling over the edge of his chair. Colt’s strong hands gripped her, preventing her from flipping headfirst onto the floor.
All she could do was watch in horror.
Fisting his hands into Sean’s shirt, Erik jerked him up from his chair. Sean didn’t even bother to defend against the first blow, maybe because he hadn’t realized it was coming.
But he definitely ducked the second.
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“LOLA IS NOT the kind of woman you screw around with, you asshole,” Erik bit out. He didn’t care that half the town was watching, and the other half would know about this fight before he’d managed to clean up his raw knuckles.
Outrage had been building inside him since the moment Lola had walked away last night. Her parting words echoed through his head like the pounding drumbeat of some ancient war chant.
She hadn’t been there to see him. She’d been there to see Sean.
Which might not have been a problem, except Sean had been in Charleston to meet up with a woman he was seeing. That was why Erik had been covering his shift.
Gage and Evan moved to intervene, but rubbing his jaw with one hand, Sean held up the other to stop them. He moved into a clearer space so he’d have room to maneuver. Not a complete moron, then.
No, Erik already knew that about Sean. They’d grown up together, despite the fact the other man was a couple of years younger than him. Sweetheart was a small town, the firehouse even smaller.
Throwing another punch, Erik felt the impact as it reverberated up his arm and into his shoulder. His knuckles burned. It had been a damn long time since he’d gotten into a fistfight.
“You can’t play fast and loose with Lola like that. You sure as hell shouldn’t be seeing someone else while you’re sleeping with her. She’s the kind of woman who expects—and deserves—respect and monogamy when she’s with a guy.”
“Whoa,” Sean said, countering with a punch of his own. He could tell the guy was holding back, but it still hurt like hell when Sean’s fist connected with the underside of his jaw. Erik’s head snapped back.
“Lola and I aren’t sleeping together. We flirt and cut up, but she isn’t interested in me.”
“Erik, stop this. Now,” Lola roared.
Neither of them listened, though Sean did back away, his fists dropping just a little. “What in God’s name made you think that I’m sleeping with Lola?”
“Because she crawled into your bunk last night half-naked, unaware that I’d picked up your shift.”
Lola groaned. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her sag against Colt’s chair. Heat flamed up her face before she buried it in her brother’s shoulder. The back of her neck was a matching brilliant shade of red.
“She did what?” Sean asked, genuine shock making his jaw go slack. “Lola...”
She finally looked up at Sean, a sheepish expression on her face. “So, I had a couple drinks last night and came up with what turned out to be a very stupid idea.”
Sean shook his head, clearly dumbfounded. “You aren’t really interested in me.”
Lola pushed upright, gaining her feet and her composure. Everyone in the place was staring at her, but she didn’t seem to care. “No. This really has nothing to do with you, and I’m sorry to drag you into it.”
Sean shrugged, rubbing the side of his jaw that would no doubt be sporting bruises tomorrow. “You know I’d help you any way you needed, Lola. And sleeping with you would have been less than a hardship. You’re gorgeous and sexy as hell.”
Lola’s lips quirked. “Thanks. I think.”
Erik’s hands balled into fists, but Lola’s words finally started to sink in, penetrating the fog of outrage that had been building inside him all day. “Wait, you didn’t know she was coming to see you?”
“Nope,” Sean said.
Erik’s narrowed gaze swung to Lola.
She stared at him, her only response a miniscule shrug of her shoulders. “I’m a big girl, Erik. I get to sleep, or not sleep, with whomever I want. Whenever I want. I don’t owe anyone an explanation.”
Oh, that was where she was damn wrong.
But for the first time since he’d barreled into the bar, he realized—and cared—about the spectacle they were creating.
Because as pissed as he’d been about Sean’s supposed treatment of Lola, what he’d just done wasn’t much better.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Anger mingling with humor flashed through Lola’s gaze. She threw an arm out, taking in the entire bar. “Little late for that, don’t you think?”
“Well,” Colt said drily, “as much as I’ve enjoyed the entertainment for the night, I think it’s time for everyone to go to their separate corners and chill out for a little while. Erik, why don’t you drive me home?”
Erik’s gaze dragged reluctantly from Lola down to Colt, the man who had once been his closest friend. The brother he’d never had. But that was long ago. He used to be able to judge this man’s moods as quickly as he’d been able to judge Lola’s.
Now, both of them were strangers. And he hated that. Colt had lost the use of his legs the night of the accident, and Erik would never forgive himself for his role in that. But he’d lost so much that night, as well. Maybe more.
