Heat Wave (21 page)

Charlie and I head into Tahiti Nui, which has live music tonight in the form of a man and a guitar poised in the corner. It’s pretty crowded, considering it’s only open for another hour, but I manage to spot Logan sitting at the end of the bar, palming a beer.

“Hey it’s the
habut
,” Charlie says, looking over. “Should we say hi?”

I nudge the empty table beside us. “Sit here, I’ll go get us drinks.”

Charlie seems okay with that and takes a seat. “Are you paying?”

I sigh. “Yes. Just sit tight.”

Tahiti Nui is one of the cooler bars I’ve been too. It’s like a Tahitian dive bar, except it’s not dirty or gross. The locals love it here and it has a really laid-back vibe and a lot of history within the thatched walls. Lots of celebrity’s pictures are on the walls, including George Clooney’s, since scenes of The Descendants were shot in here. Plus, their pizzas are to die for.

I’m practically in Logan’s face before he even notices me, and when he does he barely moves. Just keeps his elbows on the table and side-eyes me.

“What are you doing here?” he asks flatly before taking a sip of his beer.

“Looking for you,” I tell him, trying to take the edge out of my voice and failing.

“Why?” He says this in such an “I don’t give a shit” manner that I can feel my blood pressure rising. I’m going to need a drink, stat.

“Why? You know why.” I lean in and lower my voice. “We need to talk about what happened last night.”

“No we don’t,” he says, clearing his throat. He signals for the bartender to give him another and then glances at me. “Guess I should have been a gentleman and ordered one for you too.”

“Gentleman?” I repeat. “That’s a stretch.” And when the bartender gives him his drink I put in an order with her for two Longboard beers, sliding a few rumpled bills on the counter.

“You’re not here alone?” he asks, looking around the bar.

“No, I’m with Charlie,” I tell him.

“I see,” he says, staring me dead in the eyes. “And you needed him here so you could talk to me?”

The bartender gives me my beers. “I mean it,” I tell him. “We need to talk. I’ll be right back.”

I quickly squeeze my way past the patrons and find Charlie at his table.

Talking to a girl, of course.

I give her a quick smile even though I have no idea who she is and give Charlie his beer. “I’m just going over there for a minute,” I tell him and point in no particular direction.

I think Charlie thinks he’s busted or something because he’s all wide-eyed as he nods.

I head back over to where Logan is sitting, only to see him heading out the back door of the restaurant. What a fucking sneak!

“Where are you going?” I ask as I burst out of the back door and into the parking lot. He keeps walking, so I run up to him and thump him with my fist, right on his back. It’s like punching a wall.

But it gets him to stop. He whirls around and fastens his eyes on me. “What is your problem? Can’t a man drink in peace?”

I hold my ground as he takes a step closer, refusing to back away. “You’ve had the whole day and night to drink. Is that why you’ve been here? You’re hiding from me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he says with the surliest expression I’ve seen on him yet.

I blink at him, wondering how it’s possible to go from making out with him to being completely aggravated by him in such a short period of time. “So then let’s talk.”

“There is nothing to talk about,” he says, looking away. Even nearing midnight, there’s a rooster strutting along the edge of the parking lot. “It was a big mistake.”

Ow. I feel like I’ve been kicked in the ribs. I know I came here wanting to tell him the same thing, I know it’s what I’d been stewing over all day, but the fact is, it hurts to hear him say it.

“That’s what I was going to say.” The words come out in a hush, distracted by my wrenching heart.

“Good. Then we’re on the same page,” he says, running his hand along his jaw. He looks at me and sighs. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

“You did kiss me back, though.”

It was impossible not to.

“Momentary lapse of judgment,” I tell him. “I blame Dan’s punch.”

“I’m your boss. It was reckless of me. I took advantage of you.”

“Whoa, hey now,” I tell him. “You didn’t take advantage of me. I wasn’t that drunk. I knew exactly what I was doing.”

“And yet you still did it,” he says, his tone softer, his eyes searching mine, shining in the streetlights.

“As I said…it was a momentary lapse of judgment.” I avert my eyes, feeling that pull to him, like the waves to the moon. I can’t put myself in that situation again.

I can see him cock his head out of the corner of my eye, studying me. “Do you regret it?”

I swallow. “Do you?”

“I just said it was a mistake.”

I nod. “Yeah. Yeah and you’re right. It was.”

“People make mistakes all the time,” he goes on, his words taking on a silken quality. I can’t help but close my eyes as he comes forward. His fingers trail along my jaw, disappearing behind my ear and into my hair.

Oh, god, not again. This is a test. Stay strong.

I keep my eyes closed.

“Some people never learn from them,” he adds softly.

I suck in my breath as my nerves dance from head to toe. “Why are you doing this?” I whisper.

He exhales slowly, his hand leaving my hair and drifting down my shoulder, my arm, leaving a wake of heightened skin. I supress the urge to shiver.

“Touching you?” he asks.

“Yes.” My voice shakes.

“Because I want to.”

“And you think you just can?”

“Because I know you want me to.”

“You just said it was a mistake.”

“Maybe I’m testing you.” His hand comes off of me. “To see if you’d make the same mistake again.”

Remember everything you decided.

Remember who he is.

Remember what’s at stake.

He leans in, his mouth at my ear. My world smells like coconut and mint and whatever pheromones he has that drive me so goddamn crazy. “Last night was nothing. Not an appetizer or even an aperitif. You have no idea the things I want to do to you. No idea of the way I can make you feel.”

I think I have some idea. I’m so fucking turned on it’s not even funny. I’m not even breathing. I’m on an edge and I’m seconds from falling.

His hand slides up the side of my tank top and brushes over my breast, sending a shower of sparks down my spine, making me tingle from head to toe.

“And I know you want me to try.”

It would be so easy to take the plunge. Throw my arms back, close my eyes, and go off the deep end. To just give in and see how that feels. To be free. To want for nothing but pleasure.

His lips tease beneath my ear before he gently takes my lobe between his teeth.

Sweet Jesus.

I can’t take much more of this.

“The other side of desire is fear,” he murmurs, his voice reaching through me like a hot knife. “The other side of fear is desire. What side controls you?”

“Fear.” I pull away, staring at him with wide eyes. An ounce of strength and common sense is rising through me and if I don’t use it now, I never will. “Because of what will happen to me if I give in to you.”

“Give in to me?” he repeats, blinking at me.

“I’ll ruin the one thing I have going for me. This job. This life here. You and I would never become anything, we never could, and so then what happens? I’ll be forced to walk away. To quit and not look back.”

He’s staring at me like I spit in his face and takes a step back. “Why the hell would I force you to walk away?”

“I’ve been down this road before. You of all people know this.”

“Veronica, you know that I’m not like that,” he says imploringly. “I would never put your job here in jeopardy, ever. No matter what happens between us.”

I’m half inclined to believe him. He sounds sincere. And yet…

He continues. “Are you serious? You think I’m that big of a wanker that I would do that?”

My mouth opens and shuts. I want to tell him I want to think the best of him. I want to tell him I don’t trust him at all. I want to tell him that he’s worth the risk and that he’s not worth the risk. I don’t know what I want. Maybe that’s the problem.

“You’re never going to forgive me, are you?” he says bitterly, shaking his head.

“For what you did to Juliet? No. And why should I? You never told me you were sorry for it. You never told me anything that would make me like you a bit better, if not understand you better. You act like nothing happened.”

“Maybe because nothing did happen,” he says this so quietly I barely hear him.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” I yell at him just as a couple of people walk past us to their car, giving us the hairy eyeball as they go. I lower my voice. “Juliet told me and you know she did, so don’t deny it.”

“I’m not denying anything,” he says. “But I am leaving.”

He stalks off down the parking lot, a car’s headlights highlighting him from behind.

I ran away last night, tonight he’s doing the same. I suppose it’s only fair.

I contemplate going after him, but what would the point of another argument be? We’ve already been over it. It’s getting redundant. He’s never going to tell me he’s sorry for what he did and I’m never going to stop hating him over it. Maybe it’s not hatred, but it’s one of those many valid reasons why all of this is a bad idea. I know the battle between fear and desire is raging inside me, and when it comes to Logan fear is going to win each time.

I finish my beer standing there in the parking lot, watching as Logan disappears around the corner, probably to the bar next door. When I’m done, I head back inside Tahiti Nui to find Charlie, totally defeated.

Charlie is now sitting at the bar, talking to the bartender, the other girl nowhere in sight.

“Where the hell did you go?” he asks, looking me up and down as I plunk the empty beer on the counter. “I was afraid you’d been swept off your feet by some strapping young lad.”

I roll my eyes. “Not exactly. I was just talking to Logan.”

“What about?”

“Family drama, really,” I say just as the bartender informs us it’s last call. I order two shots of dark rum.

“Shots?” Charlie asks. “You know I’m driving.”

“They’re both for me,” I tell him.

“Well damn, dude. What kind of family drama is this?” he asks.

I shake my head, unsure if I should get into it or not. Honestly it isn’t Charlie’s business and it’s not really my business either. I know Logan keeps saying that and I keep arguing, but I think he’s right. I fucking hate it when he’s right.

“Double shot drama,” I tell him.

“I’ve been there,” Charlie says. “In fact that’s one reason I’m not looking forward to Thanksgiving next week. I haven’t been back in a few years and I know that my family has just been hoarding all their craziness somewhere, waiting until I arrive to unleash it all.”

“I’ll tell you one thing, if I stay here long-term I don’t see myself going back home for a long time.”

“You are staying here long-term, aren’t you?” Charlie asks.

“Yeah, I am. I mean I hope,” I tell him. “I don’t have plans to leave.”

“Good,” he says.

“So what’s your family drama all about?” I ask and with a big sigh, he starts talking about how his parents are divorced but they play nice every holiday. His older brother is a gambler and has lost his house and his younger sister is a stoner who still lives with the mom, and now his mom is juggling both kids while the father gallivants with his hot new wife. Even though Charlie’s family drama is a lot different than mine, it just goes to show how no family is perfect. Every family is fucked up in one way or another, it’s how you deal with it and how you accept it that makes us different. Denial is the easiest alternative in the short-term but it fucks you up over time.

“And you?” Charlie asks. “You can’t take and not give, sweet thing.”

I finish the second shot, feeling woozy already. “I’ll spare you the boring details. But my mother is the deputy mayor of Chicago, and my father is kind of her bitch, and from the moment we were born, my mother groomed Juliet to be perfect and she groomed me to be just like Juliet. Only I’m not Juliet and never will be. But as far as my mother is concerned, Juliet was the golden child and I was some sort of mistake. Now that Juliet’s dead, she’s this legend I’ll never live up to.” I cough and give Charlie an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I know that sounds callous of me.”

“No, no, I get it,” he says. “I could see how hard that would be. I mean…not to add to it, but Juliet pretty much was perfect.”

“I know,” I grumble.

“But I mean, like sometimes it wasn’t in a nice way…if that makes sense.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know…it doesn’t seem right to talk about her like this.”