Recklessly (8 page)

“Your Rebel board. I want it,” he said. Abel was setting up a bet.

“Seriously? You mean the one that looks just like yours? And you really want to race me with a bum shoulder?” Wes scoffed, but he had never turned down a bet from his brother since they were nine years old, even after falling out of a tree and breaking his arm when climbing it for the offer of his brother’s allowance for two weeks.

Abel nodded and set the timer on his watch. “Chicken shit.”

“Okay, douche. You get my Rebel board if you win and I get…those retro Nikes you just bought,” Wes challenged, and he noticed the hesitation in Abel’s body language. He was a sneaker fanatic, but he wouldn’t back down, either. “Deal?”

Abel nodded. “Ian, you call whoever touches the wall first!”

After Ian walked to the end of the pool and blew his whistle, Wes kicked off with the confidence that not only would he be wearing those sneakers tonight, but also that Lana’s missed call would be waiting when he got out of the pool.

Except she didn’t call the entire week—not even on Tuesday, the day of their original plans. And on Saturday evening, while he and Kiera were halfheartedly watching one of the
Fast and Furious
movies in the living room and discussing comical plotlines the story could take in the future, he was still curious to know
why
, as much as he tried to ignore the feeling. But it wasn’t
just
that, the time between the hook-up and now had only served to feed his interest about her in general and a yearning for a repeat as well.

“Hey, what do you guys want to do for dinner?” Charlotte called from upstairs.

“I dunno. What’s here?” Wes yelled back.

“Not a goddamn thing except liquor,” Abel said when he came down to the first floor and walked toward the kitchen, slowly moving his recovering shoulder in a rotation. “We ate everything we bought for mom and dad’s visit. But an empty fridge is worth having the house to ourselves again.”

“Definitely.” Wes nodded. “The morning they left, they were screaming about the toilet seat being left up, and I was ready to drown them both in the goddamn water
.”
Anxiety over his parents came so fast it made him shudder. They had argued the entire rest of the time they were there, not even having the decency to do it outside of earshot of him, Charlotte and Abel. 

“So…dinner…” Charlotte said as she walked down the steps.

“There’s nothing here, kiddo.” Abel threw his hands up. “Y’all know how this works. Nothing’s changed.”

Charlotte gave him an annoyed look. “Fine. Well, Kiera has coupons, those digital deal things. We were talking about it earlier. We should check out one of those places.”

Kiera pulled out her phone, and soon her thumb was swiping through the screen. “A bunch of places in Marina and Venice and Hollywood.”

“All right. Let’s do one of them,” Wes said, slipping his feet into his shoes—Abel’s gray vintage Nikes, of course.

His brother walked over and narrowed resentful eyes at Wes. “You’re such a douchebag,” he said, shaking his head at his formerly owned sneakers.

“Awww! Tonight’s my treat. I feel bad,” he said.

“You don’t even need to do that! I have two two-for-one coupons for
Vices Hollywood,
” Kiera said. “It’ll work for the four of us.” Wes snapped his head to the side to look at her.
Shit. Shiiiit.
That’s where Lana worked.

“Yes! They have karaoke there tonight, too,” Charlotte said, chiming in. “C’mon, guys! Wes…you and I do a mean ‘Baby Got Back.’ Remember you guys’ birthday party?”

“Ha! I’m down.” Abel shrugged. “Let’s go to—”

“Are you guys sure you want to go all the way to Hollywood? On a Saturday night? Instead of just walking up the street or something?” Wes said, keeping a neutral expression as he tried to dissuade them, but he knew he would never come up with a good enough reason to convince them; he was delaying the inevitable. And Abel would figure out the reasons for his hesitation the minute he saw Lana. It wasn’t that he feared running into her; he just would’ve preferred doing it without his brother, cousin and Kiera. Goddamn disturbing version of The Brady Bunch.

“The Hollywood one serves food all night, and we haven’t been there yet,” Abel said. “Who cares about the traffic? It’s not like we’re going out tonight when we get back. You said you wanted to chill out more because of the upcoming contests, anyway.”

“Well, I’m tired,” Wes said, noting to himself how petulant he sounded.

“Gimme your keys,” Charlotte said. “I’ll drive.”

If he pressed anymore, they would all get suspicious, so Wes stood up and surrendered to whatever inevitable awkwardness was about to invade his night. “Let me put on a different shirt, and then we can go.” He sighed deeply when he walked into his room and shuffled to his closet. He was yanking a shirt down over his head when Abel walked in.

“Okay…who’d you fuck and piss off over there at
Hollywood
?” Abel studied him with suspicious eyes as he stood akimbo.

“No one, dude. I can’t
not
want to do something without my dick being involved?” Wes asked, pretending to be offended. But his dick
was
involved. And, honestly, he had sort of felt all week like its honor was at stake.

Abel laughed under his smirk. “Um…real answer or…?”

He raised his right hand as though swearing an oath. “I can assure you that my penis hasn’t caused any trouble in Hollywood.”

“I suppose this is my fault. Look, we don’t have to go to
Vices Hollywood
. Let’s go
anywhere
, just so this conversation about your dick can stop,” Abel said as an expression of disgust filled his features, but it quickly shifted to one of amusement. “But, seriously, why are you so against going?”

“Remember how at training last week, I told you that I met a girl at the one in Venice? I was really tired, and it slipped my mind that you knew who she was already. You met her earlier in the day at Tar—”

“Whoa. Target parking lot girl is
Vices
bathroom girl? The hot chick on the motorcycle and…?” Abel’s eyes widened at some unspoken, but probably logical and accurate, conclusion as he trailed off. “Wait…she’s at the one in Hollywood tonight? How do you know that…?
Wait some more
…she works there,
doesn’t she
? Holy Virgin Mary.” He started with cackles but they melted into giggles. Actual giggles. It was all goddamn spite over his lost shoes. “So your old fuck-buddy is going to meet your new fuck-buddy in a few minutes? Oh! This is
too
good.”

“Thanks for the support, Abel.” Wes pressed out a flat smile. “Dude, this really might backfire on me unnecessarily. You know how Ki is. It’s part of the reason things cooled off between us.”

“Yeah…she does get jealous.” Kiera was probably the one woman Wes had had a casual relationship with the longest—they were actually pretty good friends—and she didn’t ask too many questions about his personal life, but he often saw a different side of her when other women were around. Especially when Wes was interested in them.

“And I’m not going to make Kiera go home right now and look like the world’s biggest jerk.”

“And she has
coupons
, dude…”

“I don’t care about her coupons.” Wes scoffed in annoyance. “But you see why I don’t want to go?”

Abel’s expression snapped into a compassionate look. “Totally.” He squeezed Wes’ shoulder then turned for the hallway, cupping his free hand at the side of his mouth. “Hey, guys, get in the car! Wesley says he’s ready to go to Hollywood!”

They were at the place a little more than half an hour later and being seated at a bar table upstairs.
Vices Hollywood
was teeming with people, to the point that waiting guests were standing next to vacant tables as the busboys wiped them clean from the previous diners. Even as he kept himself a part of the conversation with his group, Wes’ gaze swept the faces of the busy servers from behind his menu, and each time none of them was Lana, his eagerness to see her only grew. He couldn’t decide which was worse, if she was not working tonight or if she was. Finally, Lana stepped out from behind the bar carrying a tray of fried foods and beers to a table of guys. Even in her work uniform, little makeup and a simple ponytail, she looked gorgeous, and a quick glance around the room revealed that he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“And for you?” the waitress hovering over him asked, startling Wes. He smiled up at
Cynthia
and dropped his stare to the menu.

“Turkey burger with the works. Coors. And water, please.”

“IDs, please.”

“Cyn, mind if I handle this? I know them. Tip’s still yours,” Lana said as she strolled over, and Wes’ sudden increase in heart rate rattled his chest. Abel landed a kick to his shin, and it whipped pain through his entire body, but Wes didn’t dare meet his brother’s eyes. He watched Cynthia trod over to another table until Lana bumped his knee. She leaned with her elbows on the tabletop, eyes never straying from his. When Kiera’s fingers folded around the hairs at the nape of his neck, an act meant to mark territory, Lana only laughed as she continued speaking. “What can I get for you guys…and girls?”

“I’ll get the spicy chicken tenders, and my brother will get…a lot less pissy when you tell him why you haven’t called,” Abel said. Lana let out that laugh Wes had become so smitten with, and it allayed how irritated he was at Abel for making the statement.

“Oh, you two know each other?” Kiera asked. The grip on his neck slackened but then tightened again.

“I was considering giving you these sneakers back, dickhead,” Wes muttered, feeling a ring of heat around the collar from both sets of women’s eyes on him.

“He could’ve called me,” Lana explained to Abel.

“How’d they meet?” Kiera asked Charlotte.

“I’m sitting right here, everybody,” Wes said, splitting his annoyed look between his brother and Lana while waving his hands. “Right here, guys.” He turned an unpleasant look to Kiera, one caught between irritation and confusion. “C’mon, Ki, you can’t do that.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “What? What am I doing? I’m just wondering how you know her.” She motioned at Lana, her hand claw-like and curiously managing to have only her middle finger curved and slightly lifted in Lana’s direction. “If she’s a friend, you can just tell me.”

Lana was completely undaunted by Kiera—and outright ignoring her—as she leaned toward him. “You could’ve called me, and you didn’t, Wes. If anything, we’re both to blame for why we haven’t spoken…” She was right, but
they always
called.
And something about Lana not doing it captivated him. It was a strange pull, an odd tug-of-war between needing the instant gratification and liking the thrill that came with the chase, too.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Abel and Charlotte performing some type of joint mime-like performance, with the two of them pretending to eat popcorn all wide-eyed, their amusement plain on their faces. So much for family.

“We’d like to take a moment to thank our sponsor
OMFG,
” Charlotte mumbled, nudging Abel.

“Don’t forget
WTF
,” Abel added.

Wes glared at them. For their respective punishments, fuckin’ Abel—whom he had helped out in countless situations with women—was
never
getting his shoes back, and Charlotte was about to become an indentured servant around the house, he decided. Though the awkwardness felt thick enough to stab Abel and Charlotte with, he was sort of entertained, too. Sort of. Liquor would help; it would make everything infinitely hilarious in a few minutes. But
he
was allowed to find this funny,
not them
. Oh well. Maybe this was the price to be paid for living by his dick.

              Lana raised her foot to one of the rungs of his bar stool, and an impulse sent Wes’ gaze shooting down to examine the shape of her thigh. He thought about how he had been holding both of hers at
Vices
, and
he suddenly remembered everything else, too. The taste of her skin and how soft it was on his tongue. The weight of her body on his arms. The sound of her moans in his ear. The way being inside her felt. The memories sent an instant blood rush to his crotch.

“No response?” Lana asked, exhibiting enjoyment at his silence, but there was an intensity behind her stare, too. He wondered if she was reminiscing, and when she adjusted her foot until her thigh was resting against his, he got his answer. Damn, he needed this girl in his bed. Her bed. On this table. On anything horizontal. “I guess I’ll take your orders then…”

              “I
really
did want those chicken tenders,” Abel said. “We have coupons.”

              “And you?” Lana dropped her hand on Wes’ thigh and his leg actually jerked.
Oh shit.
Her gaze fell to his lap.
He
knew he had a hard-on…and now, so did she. Her eyes bounced up to his again. Less amusement. More intrigue.

              “Turkey burger. A shot of whatever you can bring me. Anything.”

“Any brand or type of liquor in particular?” she asked, after nodding.

“One with alcohol in it,” Wes said with humorous sarcasm as he placed his hand on top of hers, and Lana smiled. “Please…for the love of God, just bring tequila.” And after she scribbled down the orders of the women—with a blatant offering of stink eye from Kiera—Lana strode back toward the kitchen.

              She returned quickly with their drinks, and she and Wes exchanged more searing looks and secret smiles. Even when she was servicing other tables, his stare never really roamed away from her. “Told you guys I didn’t want to come here,” he said.

But in actuality, he was
really
glad they had come because he could’ve watched her all night. She had a strut about her—not overtly
notice me
—but there was a light swing to her hips, a slight arch at the small of her back that gave her butt a lift. It was the sound of her voice, too. The confidence. The intonation. How she spoke like she never had a doubt about a thing she said.