Puck Buddies (8 page)

“Good to see you’re still reckless.”

“Well, I have full permission to get
trashed now. I have my mule to carry me home.” I wink back at his sardonic
expression and slap him on his thick arm.

“My days as your mule are over, Your
Highness.” He speaks through a clenched jaw.

“This is getting good. Call him a
blue-collar bitch and then we can all go dance.” Carson steals the next shot
that arrives.

“Blue collar is a compliment for what he
actually is.” I look right into Matt’s eyes when I say it.

“Sort of like being called “lady” is for
you.” He bows slightly before walking away.

My jaw drops.

“You’ve gotten worse in the years since
you’ve been near each other. Have you seen him or is your grudge-holding skill
really at ninja?” Carson hands me another drink.

“I haven’t seen him.” I don’t say that
I’ve watched him get drafted to New York on TV. I’ve never watched a moment of
hockey, but I found myself strangely curious about the fact he was moving here
to play.

“When did he lie to you? ‘Cause it seems
to me you’re just being a bitch. I mean, he fucking carried both of you home
and you insulted him in front of your dad while Nat puked on him. Did he kill
your dog when he dropped you off?”

“I just don’t like him,” I snarl at
Carson.

“Oh snap.” He lifts his hand to his lips,
laughing at me. “You’re embarrassed and can’t apologize like a big girl. So now
what? He’s dead to you? Mature, Sami,” Carson scolds and leaves me there at the
bar alone.

“Hey, are you Sami Ford?” a guy next to
me asks the moment I’m alone.

“No.” I shake my head.

“Dude, you look so much like her.” He
grins and blinks lazily, drunk as hell.

“I get that a lot.” I turn and risk
strolling over to Nat.

William gets his smug grin on his face
when I’m near them. “Hey, how’s it going? How’s Columbia?”

“Great.” I don’t ask him about school
because I honestly don’t have a single shit to give about him.

“Is your family headed for Martha’s for
the Labor Day weekend?”

“Of course,” I reply blankly.

“I guess I’ll see you there.”

“Us.” I nod my head at Nat who’s upset
about something. “Nat’s my plus one.”

“I thought you couldn’t come?” He turns
his head to her.

“You didn’t ask me.” She’s annoyed about
something other than Martha’s Vineyard.

“I think our moms spoke about it. Your
mom said you were busy.” He tries to still be casual about it, regardless of
how douchie it looks that his mom continues to arrange his playdates, and he
can’t just man up and ask his girlfriend out on his own.

“Oh. She didn’t tell me you wanted me to
go. Maybe that was when we were broken up.” She says it pointedly. “But Sami’s
right, I’m going to the party with her.” Nat gestures toward the bar. “Can we
go get a drink?”

“I can get it,” William offers, likely
because I’m here.

“No, that’s cool.” I grab Nat’s arm and
pull her away from him. When we’re at the middle of the bar I lean in close to
her ear. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s got something going on the weekend
in September we were supposed to go away. We’ve been planning it for months and
now he’s busy. He said when we broke up last time he assumed all plans were
canceled.” She sighs. “I guess that’s fair. I never thought about it like
that.”

Fire burns inside me. I square off to
just lambaste her with the truth—the ugly horrid truth—that I
fucking hate him and he’s a tool. But the moment I part my lips Carson comes
over, nudging her.

“Nat, come dance with me.
Sami’s being
a whore.”

“What?” I glare.

“You’re being mean to poor Brimstone for
no reason. That’s whorish behavior. And I want to dance.”

“Brimstone? Who’s that?” Nat questions.

“Nat, you must recall that poor guy you
barfed on years ago.” Carson’s eyes glow with mischief.

“He’s here?” Nat’s jaw drops as Carson
nods. “Oh my God. That guy who carried us home? You saw him?” She turns around
to search the crowded club. “Where?”

“There.” Carson points.

“We have to go apologize. I still don’t
get why you were so mean to him. His parents are super rich and his mom is like
royalty, and you treated him as if he was some slob on the streets and I puked
on him.” Nat drags me with her. I try to pull back, but she’s scrappy for such
a tiny thing. She drags me right to the crowd of beefy guys Matt’s with where
he’s leaning against a table chatting with a herd of women. She pushes past the
girls, earning us sneers, and goes directly to Matt. “Hey, we’ve never formally
been introduced.”

“I remember you just fine.” He sounds as
excited to see
her
as he was to see me.

“We want to apologize. And thank you.”
She glances back at me. “We were assholes and you were so nice to walk us
home.”

“Carry.” He smiles back, losing the
attitude. No doubt succumbing to her beautiful blonde angel act. Only with her
it isn’t an act. She’s genuinely sweet. “And it was my pleasure.” His eyes
don’t even flicker in my direction.

“Right, of course.
Carry.
I’m so ashamed. I can’t believe I got that drunk. And you
kept us out of the papers. You saved my life. You don’t even know.” She lets go
of me and puts her hand forward. “Anyway, I’m Natalie Banks.”

“Matt Brimley.” He takes it and shakes
her hand.

“Lovely to meet you.”

“You as well.” His eyes dart to mine
after a moment. His smug grin comes back and my stomach tightens. He looks like
he’s waiting for something.

But I don’t offer anything. If he thinks
I’m kissing his boots after he lied when he pretended not to know me, he’s
nuts. He’s an ass who owed me more than just getting me home.

“Apologize.” Nat glares at me.

“Absolutely not. You might be fooled by
this, but I’m not.” I point a long finger in his face. “I see you.”

I turn to walk away, but he grabs my hand
and turns me around. “Just say sorry and we can be friends. Honestly, what’s
your problem?”

Carson and the guys with them all laugh
and make a face like Matt better watch himself with me.

“You!” I jerk free. Nat calls me from the
crowd behind us but I keep walking. I need more shots.

Chapter Seven

Third chance

Matt

She sucks back another shot and shudders,
yet again. She has to be the worst drinker I’ve ever seen. She always shudders
like she might puke.

But she’s easily the hottest one too.
Even making that weird face from the taste of the booze, she is sexy.

Watching her makes me think things. What
I need to remember is the way she acted, like a typical rich asshole. Or better
yet, keeps acting. Had she apologized, everything would be different. But she
is so stubborn.

Rich girls are such bitches and she is
the queen bee.

And hot or not, twenty years from now
she’ll be my mother, and hers. Stuck up and living this bullshit existence
where they can’t see just how fake it all is. She’ll be married to whoever her
dad feels is the right choice for the family. She’ll have affairs and take
trips, and he’ll work nonstop but in secret be banging the girl he loved when
he was seventeen.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her hate
anyone, except
Will
.” Carson pulls me from my silent
rant. “But no one who’s honest with themselves likes Will. He’s kind of a
twat.” He continues to rattle on next to me, “Sami usually gets along with
everyone. You my
friend,
are special. She’s one of
those girls who just does what she does, not giving much thought to other
people. For her to focus actual hate is crazy.”

Sami leans on the bar, laughing with the
guy next to her and turning her back on us. She places a hand on her hip,
pushing her ass out a bit. In her outfit I can easily imagine exactly how she
looks all the way up the back of her body. Thanks to the YouTube video Drew
made of her pouring beer on her
boobs,
I can imagine
the front too.

She’s fucking perfect.

Well, if she had a filter and some
manners she would be.

“Dude.”

I glance at Carson. “What?”

“What is with you two? Did you do
something to her? She hates you and you stare every time you see her.”

“What do you mean?” I don’t know the
answer to the question. I’m not sure I ever did anything to her.

“There’s something there, and I’m not an
idiot. What happened?”

“We kissed once a million years ago. It
was whatever.
Nothing that deserves her always being pissed
at me.
Or not apologizing for being a complete bitch.
The blonde apologized. I’m totally over it. But Sami was wrong and she can’t
own that.”

“You kissed Sami Ford?”

“What, it’s not a club.”

“It kinda is a club.”

“Not one I want in.” Again my eyes wander
over her way.

“Too late, you’re in now. Card-carrying
member. Too bad she hates you more than she hates anyone, maybe even
Fairfield.”

“The dislike between us is mutual. I
think she’s a snob and she thinks I’m an ass. End of file.”

“And yet you still want her.” He’s wrong.

“No. Trust me there’s nothing but
contempt.”

“Okay,” Carson mocks. “Maybe try selling
that when you’ve managed to stop giving her that look.” He pats me on the arm
and strolls into the crowd just as Laramie comes over and sits next to me.

“Hey, man. Where’s Brady?”

“He didn’t make it. He’s got some MILF on
the line and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to introduce her to Mr. Clinton.”

“He’s nasty.” We laugh but I can’t tell
if Laramie thinks it gross or not. I know I do. But Brady has his thing.

“He really is.”

“Whatcha staring at?”

“Nothing.”

His eyes follow mine because as much as I
hate it, Carson’s right. I can’t stop staring at her. “Ohhh, Sami Ford again.
She’s hot, eh?” He nods his head. “I was gonna ask you if you mind introducing
us, since you already rode that train, but I’m starting to think you didn’t get
off at the station. You have a thing for her, eh?” He cracks a grin and I want
to punch off his face.

“We don’t have a thing. She just owes me
an apology, that’s all.”

“Well, go get it, brother. She owes you.
You clearly need closure on this subject. Sometimes closure is just a dirty
session of hate fucking, don’t rule that out.” Laramie laughs and slaps me on
the back but he doesn’t move. He’s waiting for me to go demand my apology.

And why shouldn’t I get one?

It would fix all the awkward tension
between us.

She acted crazy.

Fuck her.

I finish my beer and walk her way,
cutting right in where the other guy is standing. “Hi.” I give the grin, the
one that always makes her sigh.

“Excuse me.”
The guy
who was chatting her up tries to tap me on the shoulder.

“What?” I turn and glare at him. He lifts
his hands and struts off. “Not worth it.”

“What do you want?” she snarls as I
glance back at her.

Seeing that rage, I can’t help but crack
a bigger smile. “I just came to see if you wanna apologize in private, it’s
easier. I know how proud you are, so I thought I’d be the bigger man here and
give you a mulligan.”

“A mulligan?” Her jaw drops. “Are you
fucking kidding me? You pretended not to know me in London, you kissed me, and
then when I saw you again you pretended like we’d never met. You’re some
head-gaming psycho and I want no part in that.”

“You were dating Drew. He’s a friend. I
knew you were dating him when we kissed. It wasn’t a head game. It was me being
a bad friend and feeling guilty for it.”

“He’s your friend? He’s an asshole. Now I
have a bigger reason not to like you.”

“Okay, that’s fair. I will give you that
one. He’s a moron. But in London, you’re the one who said you didn’t want us to
say each other’s names. If anyone was playing games it was you. And when we met
again in the bar you also ignored me. That was hurtful.”

“You ignored me first. And in London you
were drunk and had lipstick from some other girl on your suit and cheek. What
was I supposed to do, look past that? Of course I didn’t want your name, you
still smelled like the other girl. It was gross.”

“Says the girl who was covered in ale
from flashing her tits. Like you’re so much classier.”

“I never pretended to be something I
wasn’t.
Ass.
But you asked me where I
was from and made fun of me being from the East Coast on purpose because you
knew me. And then you pretended my name was Deb. You’re a weirdo and you might
have the others fooled, but I see it.”

“Deb is short for debutante, Your
Highness. You are a deb. We both know that. I was at your cotillion, I was an
escort that year.”

“OH MY GOD! I KNEW IT! I KNEW I KNEW
YOU!” she bursts, slapping me on the chest hard with both hands. “I knew I knew
you! You escorted Elinda, that chick whose parents got a divorce and the dad
came out that he was actually gay and her mom has been his beard all these
years. Her family’s a hot mess. I couldn’t believe you escorted her after all
that. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you because I seriously remember her
hideous dress clear as a bell.”

“Jesus.” I don’t fight the look on my
face. “You really are exactly who you pretend to be.”

“What?” Her voice gets high-pitched. “And
that means what exactly? Who did I pretend to be? Is this because I didn’t
remember you? You’re that pathetic? I meet a lot of people and checking out
other girls’ dates isn’t exactly my style.” She almost spits in my face she’s
so angry. She leans right in, her breath becoming my air.

“You think I care that you didn’t
remember me?” The conversation is going backward. We aren’t fixing it. We’re
making it worse, and I’m not helping at all by hovering over her, even if she
doesn’t back down. She’s so small compared to me, but she might as well be ten
feet tall for the ferocity in her eyes. “I couldn’t care less that you didn’t
know me. And I should be asking you the same question: why are you so pissed?
Is it because we kissed and I pretended we didn’t know each other or is it
because I didn’t fall all over you? Huh? You’re so used to having guys fall at
your feet that you can’t handle one not giving you the time of day? I’m so
sorry, Highness. I’ll remember to bow next time I’m in your presence.”

“Fuck you!” Her eyes widen but she
doesn’t match me with venom.
She turns and storms off,
leaving me there regretting every single fucking word.
I hate being the
last one to say something mean. It’s always what both people think about from
then on. She’s the victim and I’m the asshole because I spoke last.

“Fuck!” I signal the bartender. “Two
shots of bourbon.”

He brings them over and I knock one back
before my body wins and I head in the direction she’s gone. Fortunately, she’s
storming to the back in heels and my legs are longer.

I’m almost caught up when she hurries
past the bathrooms to the very back of the club and out the doors to the alley.
She is huffing and muttering when she glances back to find me hot on her trail.
“Go away!”

“This isn’t over! You have things you
wanna say, so say them!”

“I have nothing to say to you.” Again, we
lean in on each other threateningly.

“You know, I can’t believe I EVER thought
you were different than all the other spoiled little girls in this world. I
gave you the benefit of the doubt, when in reality you’re the worst of them
all. You think your looks and money should let you get away with treating
people like shit? Well, that’s not how the world works, little girl.” I point my
finger right in her face.

“ARE YOU REALLY SO SAD THAT YOU NEED AN
APOLOGY, CAVEMAN? FINE! I ACTED LIKE A DICK! I CALLED YOU BLUE COLLAR! I’M
SORRY! I DIDN’T REMEMBER YOU! I’M SORRY! I PUKED ON YOU, IT WAS WRONG! I’M
SORRY! I WAS DRUNK AS HELL! AT LEAST I HAVE THAT AS AN EXCUSE! WHAT’S YOURS FOR
PREYING ON A
DRUNK
GIRL IN LONDON AND CHARMING HER
WITH ALL THE THINGS YOU KNEW? ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? YOU GOT YOUR APOLOGY, BEAST?”
Her eyes burn as she unleashes all her rage.

“No!” I step in closer, maintaining my
cool. “I don’t think anything you could possibly say would make me happy. You
don’t care about anyone but yourself, and your apology was pathetic.” We are
close enough that I feel her growled exhales on my face again, and I’m certain
she can feel mine.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Matt”—she takes a
deep breath and her eyes get to that crazy place where only girls can
go—“I’m sorry I ever met you!”

“Oh really, are you?” I mock her.

“I am. I wouldn’t care if you were the
last person on earth, I still couldn’t care less than I do about you.” She
leers at me and if looks could kill, this one would have me on fire.

I lean in even more, roaring my sentence
back, “I feel exactly the same way, Your Highness!”

Maybe it’s the bourbon.
Or the beer.
Or
the raw passion seething
out of both of us
. Or just the fact our faces are inches apart and I’m
breathing her in.

Whatever it is, a switch clicks on in me.

My hands are on her arms and my lips
crash down on hers as I lift her up into me. She kisses back, moaning softly,
“I hate you!”

“I know, baby. I hate you too. But you
feel so good.” I suck her lip, letting her breath become my air.

We were screaming and ranting and my body
is still vibrating with hate, but I don’t want to stop.

I contemplate pulling back but her hands
almost rip the hair right off my head as she slams me with force against the
door we’ve just come out of.

We explode on each other in a dirty alley
against a concrete wall.

She climbs my body while I grab a lot of
ass and haul her into the air, cupping her perfect butt as she wraps around me.

Her nails dig into the back of my neck
making it all hurt so
good
.

She fits in my arms the way I imagined
she would. We kiss and I can’t stand the thought of fucking Sami Ford in an
alley.

I carry her and walk to the corner, away
from the club. I lift my phone out of my pocket with great difficulty as I
plant kisses on her neck and she makes attempts at eating me. I send a text
asking Charles to track my phone and bring the limo with the partition closed
and music high.

He knows what it means, but he doesn’t
know what this moment means to me.