Page 18 of One More Night

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“Girl, you’re riding the D. He’s doing everything to make life easier after what? Fourteen months of hell? I say make him sweat some more,” Hendrix states. She’s the youngest in our group, coming in at twenty-four, chestnut brown, with a money piece highlight framing her face, hazel-colored eyes, and clearly a zest for life.

“Don’t listen to Hendrix. Being at odds with the man you love is turmoil. Nico was such an ass at one time. God, that man is more stubborn than my brother and I put together. We ended up on top because we compromised.” Now I feel like even more of an asshole, trying to drown out the thoughts plaguing my head, the only way a woman who’s been burned like me can. Drinking is indeed and going to happen.

“I’m an idiot. It’s official. And whatever you do, do not let me call him after I’ve had a few drinks. Mace deserves better than that. And you know what else I’ve learned?” Celeste quirks an eyebrow. My hand fumbles in the bag I chose to bring tonight, small with sequins yet a pain in the ass to find anything inside.

“What’s that, lightweight?” Hendrix jokes while taking a healthy sip of her Long Island Iced Tea. If I had one of those, I’d be flat on the ground, and she’s mixing it with the shots, shots we’ve all been taken part of.

“First, take this from me. I’m liable to be the idiot who drunk FaceTimes, calls, or texts. I am not to be trusted.” I take a break, grabbing the shot glass that holds a watermelon-flavored vodka, and toss it back.

“Get to the moral of the story, Ty, or you’ll be three sheets to the wind and won’t be able to tell us,” Journey counters. As if she’s one to talk. We all know it’ll be Hendrix and me alone grabbing a car to take us home while Journey has Nico and Celeste has Wylder.

“Oh, hush you, I’m getting to it.” At least we didn’t decide on a club to go dancing at. Here in the bar we’re probably the loudest group, which is saying something seeing as how we’re in a hotel and casino combo. “Anyways, I suck at talking. Mace may have made his mistake in pushing me away, working entirely too much, but I sure as shit didn’t tell him what I was feeling. I talkedathim instead of having a conversation, more in a ‘you’re doing this wrong’ and ‘you’ll never fix it’ sort of way.” I sit back in the booth, feeling better that I off-loaded on my friends.

“Tyra, I love you, but you went above and beyond, still remained friendly afterwards. This wasn’t all on you. Maybe twenty percent, but you need to either forgive and forget, or you need to move on once and for all.” God, my best friend knows how to give it to me straight. I needed it desperately.

“You’re right. I’m going to forgive him. Then we’re going to talk to Von together, and I am not going to puss out, but not tonight. Tonight is about us girls hanging out, talking shit and drinking. First, I have to pee. Anyone else?”

“Not me,” Hendrix says. I look at Journey. She’s shaking her head.

“I’ll go with you.” Our buddy system has been firmly in place since our twenties. We get out of the booth, arms linked together as we walk towards the restroom.

“I love you, Celeste, but if you don’t spill the beans now as to why you’re not drinking, I’m going to think you’re holding out on me.” None of the others noticed her whispered order to the waiter or the fact that her personality hasn’t changed, unlike mine that seems to get so chatty that a sock should be put in my mouth at times.

“Not yet, I don’t. I’m a few days late.” I stop in my tracks right as we reach the door to the ladies’ room, instantly excited for her.

“Oh my gosh, when are you taking the test?” My voice is totally above a whisper. Thankfully, no one is inside once we go in.

“Hopefully tomorrow. I’ll tell you as soon as I know, but be quiet, and while you’ve been pouring your heart out, I’ve done something else, and you’re not allowed to be mad,” Celeste says as I’m finishing up what I came in here to do, then walking out to wash my hands.

“Okay, you act like I’ve ever been upset with you.” Sure, we bicker, have our moments like any other friends do, but not talking or being pissed at one another, it hasn’t happened.

“You might. The guys will be here to pick us up out front in a few minutes, Mace included.”

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting that, and I’m not upset. My plans for getting smashed tonight are out the window, and my nerves have ratcheted up about a million percent. Things need to be said, don’t they?”I am not going to cry, I am not going to cry, I repeat over and over in my head like it’s a daily affirmation.

“They do, and the sooner the better.” I dry my hands, and Celeste pulls me in for a hug, you know, the kind you need from your friend, the one that picks you up when you’re feeling down or kicks your ass when it’s needed. That’s the kind of hug this is.

“You’re right. Who’s taking Hendrix home?” I don’t want her to be alone in a car to be dropped off outside her place in the dead of night.

“Wylder or Nico will take care of her. It’s not your turn tonight to take care of others beside yourself and Mace, okay?”

“Alright, let’s go settle the tab. By then, the guys will be here.” We lock our arms together to walk back towards the bar.

“As if Wylder would ever allow us to pay. You know he’d get upset if we even tried,” she replies.

“Perks of owning the place, huh?” I joke, and we both laugh. I stop five feet from the table. There, standing next to Wylder and Nico, is Mace. He’s not in a suit like he would be if it were during working hours; he’s in jeans, a form-fitting shirt, and his eyes are glued to mine.

“I think we’ll both have some news to talk about tomorrow. Love you Ty.” Celeste squeezes my hand.

“Love you too, CeCe.” She’s already veering off and walking towards Wylder, which is fine because Mace is within reaching distance now.

“Hi,” I breathe out, internally thanking Celeste for making me eat before having the two mixed drinks and a shot tonight before calling it a night.

“Siren.” Mace’s hands move to my hair, running his fingers through it before using it to bring me closer to him. “Get your head on straight?”

“Yeah, I did.” Those three words are all I get out before Mace is taking my mouth, owning me, claiming me, and showing me how much he loves me with a kiss alone.

TWENTY-SEVEN


Tags: Tory Baker Erotic