Give Me You (25 page)

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Authors: Caisey Quinn

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BOOK: Give Me You
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So many guys. I’ve given it up to more than I can count. Well, four that I willingly slept with by choice. I don’t count Eddie’s friends or the times I got paid for it. Kind of like when I’m waitressing I don’t count how many cups of coffee I serve. But Skylar, the one good guy in my life, him I can’t sleep with. Him I shut out and scare off.

Why are you so fucked up?

“I don’t know,” I say aloud, realizing as soon as I do that I’ve answered my own thought. Great. I’m going insane.

“What’s that, baby?” A male voice from behind me says.

“Oh, sorry,” I say, bumping into a tall guy in white oxford button down as I try to escape the overcrowded corner I’ve somehow backed myself into.

“Want to dance,” he yells over the music. His beer sloshes out of the bottle when someone bumps into him. It spills onto his shirt but he doesn’t notice. He just takes another drink, eyeing me curiously as he does.

“I think I’m good. I’m just here to dance—by myself. Thank you, though,” I say, trying not to be rude.

“Come on, babe,” he says, swaying against me so that I can’t go anywhere. His free hand lands on my hip. “Dancing alone is no fun. One dance.”

I swallow and nod. It’s easier to just dance with him than make a big dramatic scene. He’s a big guy, taller than Skylar but meatier and less muscular. And slurring enough that I know he’s drunk.

I dance half-heartedly, facing away from him until the song ends.

“Thanks for the dance,” I say, knowing how formal and lame it sounds but needed to get away from him and trying to do it in the least offensive way possible. “I’m going to head over to the bar and grab another drink. Have a nice night.”

“Hang on, babe.” His hand grips tighter on my hip as his erection presses against my ass. My stomach roils at the contact. “One more, then I’ll buy you a drink.”

I shake my head. “My friend is waiting. I need to go.”

“What friend?” He looks over the people around us. “I don’t see anyone looking for you.”

Because I don’t really have any friends.

“He works here,” I lie easily. “He’s a bouncer.”

His eyes scan over me as if he’s removing my clothes already. “Okay. Well go get your drink and come back, sweet cheeks.”

I nod, forcing a tight smile, thankful that he lets go of me. That is until he slaps me, hard, on the ass.

“Are you infuckingsane?” I scream, whirling around to glare at him. “Do not just hit a woman you barely know on the ass, you creep.”

A guy next to him turns from the skinny blonde grinding on his dick to see what the fuss is all about.

“Crenshaw? Everything all right here, man?”

I turn my glare to the guy in the blue polo shirt. “No. It’s not. In fact, you should teach your friend some fucking manners.”

“He didn’t mean it,” polo shirt promises me. “He’s wasted. It’s his twenty-first birthday.”

“Good for fucking him.” I turn to leave, but a hand pulls my arm, wrenching me backward.

“How about a birthday kiss? Or you can join me in the men’s room and show me if the drapes match the curtains.”

What the hell is this guy’s damage? Drunk, I understand. But I’m thinking he might be brain dead.

“Get your hands off me,” I yell, jerking out of his grasp.

Polo shirt pulls his friend aside. “She’s not interested man. Back off.”

“She’s a frigid fucking bitch is what she is.”

He sneers at me and his friend laughs.

I just wanted to dance.

I make my way through the crowd just as Skylar’s favorite song comes on. It’s a remix, but I can hear the lyrics buried under the bass.

The words strike me hard in the chest.

I miss him so much it hurts. I miss Layla too, but I know she did the right thing. Why can’t I?

I lectured her about hiding from life and I’m doing the same thing. Sort of. She was hiding from life, and I’m hiding from love—or the possibility of it at least.

Tears threaten the corners of my eyes as I reach the bar and order another shot. I down it quickly, before ordering another, knocking each one back without the customary lime chaser and embracing the burn. I’ll take a cab back to the apartment.

Then what?

Then I’ll lie alone in my empty room wearing his shirt, wishing I were with him.

I’ve been so afraid of getting caught up in him and losing myself, but the truth is, the only time I feel like I can be myself is when I’m with him.

Then why did you run?

I really don’t know for sure. It was a combination of things. I was angry, jealous, and then mostly too embarrassed to face him.

Before I realize what I’ve done, I’m outside of the club gasping for fresh air. It was stuffy as hell in there and I can’t even remember why I wanted to come.

Skylar’s last words play on a steady loop in my head.

If you need anything, or you decide you want to hang out, or if you just want to talk, call me, okay? Anytime, day or night.

I need him. And I never meant to need anyone, but it’s the truth.

My hand finds my phone in my pocket and as scared as I am of what or who he’s doing at one in the morning on a Saturday night or what he’ll say about me calling this late, I pull up my favorites.

His name is first.

W
hen a week passes and I don’t hear from her, I’m a fucking lunatic. O’Brien would be so proud. I can’t even go to Jax’s place because she lives there now so the whole team has been watching me come apart at the fucking seams.

I went out with a few of them tonight and I checked my phone half a dozen times before they started calling me a chick.

“You waiting on a booty call, Martin?” Blackburn took special joy in screwing with me. “Maybe she found someone with a bigger willy, mate.”

Doubtful. Mine’s pretty damn big and the last thing she seems to want. Unless she’s hammered, then she talks me to my knees. That husky voice, telling me to come home so she can show me how much she misses me is haunting my dreams. I should’ve left Fallon at the ER, but it felt wrong. And I was scared. Me, Skylar motherfucking Martin, scared shitless. I was scared of screwing up and losing Corin’s trust. Sleeping with her that night when she was vulnerable and half-wasted would’ve been a surefire way to do just that.

After a few hours, I decide to bail on guy’s night out. Blackburn calls out insults to my back as I leave, but I have no fucks to give.

I’m unlocking the door to my dorm room when my phone rings. I open the door and step inside while retrieving it from my pants pocket.

Red, my screen says.

Finally. I feel like I can actually breathe for the first time in forever. There’s my girl.

“Hey, baby,” I answer, hoping she’s calling to tell me I can see her somewhere, somehow.

“You were right,” she says, sounding like she’s been crying.

“I usually am, sweetheart.” I wish I could see whether or not I’d made her smile. “But what about this time?”

“I miss you,” she whispers like it’s a secret she’s ashamed to admit. Air leaves my lungs so abruptly that I don’t say anything right away. “I’m at Shortie’s,” she continues. “Come and get me?”

“Be right there.”

 

 

The cab pulls up to the curb in front of the club and I see her standing there. She’s wearing the red heels and holding her black leather jacket tightly around herself. I jump out before the driver brings the car to a complete standstill.

“Corin,” I call to her, feeling like the world falls away and there is only her. I don’t know why, but this girl, this girl is so unlike every other girl I’ve known. This girl is
my girl.

“Hey,” she says shakily, making her way over to me. “Sorry to call so late. I could’ve just taken a cab, but—”

She doesn’t get to finish her apology. As soon as she’s close enough, I pull her to me and press my lips firmly to hers. I want to hold her all night, like I did in New York.

Something’s wrong, and my usually strong girl is fragile tonight. I let my tongue slide inside her mouth and I taste tequila. She’s been drinking, but I don’t care. She called me. She could’ve gone home alone or with some other asshole, but she didn’t.

I know what a huge leap this is for her. Trying to be independent, trying to focus on school, but tonight she needs me.

So tonight, I’m hers.

H
e tastes so good. I can’t get enough. Sweet like some type of minty gum but underneath I taste expensive beer. Ale. Not the cheap stuff the rest of us drink. He pulls me into the cab and I scramble onto his lap, devouring his mouth and tangling my hands in his hair.

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