Blame It on the Pain Page 19

  Is this what I would have turned into if things hadn't gone sour with Alyssa?

  Nope. Not going there.

  Five more sugarplum's and three ‘I love you's’ later, Tyrone finally gets off the phone.

  He turns around and makes a face at Ricardo and I. He's been doing that a lot lately.

  Ricardo and I exchange another glance because we both know what's coming, and neither of us are up for it.

  “Guys,” he starts. “Y'all could be just as happy as I am if you would both stop being so stubborn.”

  I grunt and Ricardo reaches for his beer.

  He points to Ricardo first. “You going out and screwing anything in a skirt night after night isn't helping you. You need to walk down the hall and talk to Lou-Lou. I don't care what you say, man...she meant more to you than you're letting on.”

  His eyes swivel to me. “And you. You haven't been the same since that night you went to Alyssa's house.”

  My entire body stiffens at the sound of her name.

  “You've changed, Jackson. You're always in a bad mood these days. All you do is work out and go to the fight club.”

  I shrug. “That's always what I've done, Tyrone.”

  He tsks at me. “No. You're different. Even angrier. Like the entire world is your own personal fighting cage now.”

  He rubs the back of his neck. “I don't think you gave her the benefit of the doubt. I don't understand why you don't just call her up and let—”

  “Enough,” I warn.

  There's absolutely no reason to call her. Why? So she can just lie to me about Ford again. Make me start falling for her and turn myself inside out.

  Been there done that.

  I rub my temples...trying to push my other thoughts away.

  Thoughts like—What if there is more to the story? What if she's truly sorry for what she did?

  Or worst of all? What if I let myself forgive her?

  Then I'll be right back where I started.

  Having no choice but to lie to her about working at DeLuca's club and my reason for working there in the first place.

  And when she finds out, she'll leave me anyway and it will hurt worse.

  No, I'd much rather let my anger and venom for her stew. Let it turn me into a cold, heartless bastard.

  He blows out a breath and looks at the both of us. “I'm tired of this, y'all. So, here's what we're gonna do. We're going to talk about it.”

  I rub my hands over my face. I've had enough of this shit. “Oh for fucks sake!” I roar.

  Tyrone stops talking and Ricardo laughs.

  Tyrone claps his hands. “Okay, this is progress. Let it out. Jackson, why don't you start first. How did it make you feel when Alyssa hurt you?”

  I look at Ricardo and he smirks. “You gonna answer that?”

  I get up from the couch. “Fuck no. Let's grab a drink.” I look at Tyrone. “Feel free to stay back and watch some more Doctor Phil.”

  “And bake some cookies while you're at it, sugarplum,” Ricardo adds.

  Tyrone gives us the finger. “Fuck you both. I was only trying to help.”

  I toss him his jacket. “If you wanna help you can buy us a round at the bar.”

  Ricardo looks at his phone. “You guys down to try a new spot? It's kind of a hole in the wall, but rumor has it the bartender is easy on the eyes.”

  I open the front door. “Fine, but I'm not looking for pussy. I'm just looking to drink.”

  ***

  “Is there something you'd like to tell us, Ricardo?”

  Beside me, Tyrone laughs.

  Ricardo rolls his eyes. “I guess I just assumed the hot bartender was a girl.”

  The giant bartender with frosted blond tips looks up and gives Ricardo a wink.

  That only makes Tyrone laugh harder. “Ah. So you do think he's hot?”

  The bartender saunters over to us. “What can I get you, boys?”

  Ricardo takes a seat at the bar. “Are you the only one who's working tonight? Because there's supposed to be a hot bartender who works here.”

  Frosted blond tips and eyeliner aside, the dude's built like a linebacker who could probably give Ricardo a run for his money.

  The guy looks offended, so I clear my throat and cut in. “I think what my rude buddy means is—is there a female bartender working here?”

  “A hot one,” Ricardo interjects.

  The guy gives Ricardo a dirty look before focusing his attention back to me and holding out his hand. “I'm Shane.”

  I shake his hand. “I'm Jackson.” I quickly introduce Tyrone and Ricardo.

  Shane flips a bottle in the air. “I like you, Jackson.”

  Well, now this is awkward.

  He flips another bottle in the air and winks at me. “So, you know what I'm gonna do for you, sexy?”

  Next to me, Tyrone pats me on the back and whispers, “I'm so glad I came here tonight. This is awesome.”

  I'm going to kill Ricardo for bringing us here.

  Shane slams his hand down on the bar. “I'm going to introduce you to my employee.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Come again?”

  “The hot female bartender...you're interested right?”

  I shake my head. “No.” I gesture to Ricardo. “He is. The only thing I want is some whiskey if you have it.”

  He fills up a glass and hands it to me.

  Ricardo leans in. “When will she be here?” he asks Shane.

  He looks at the clock. “In about 20 minutes. But if you're looking for a quick screw, trust me...she's not it,” he says before turning to a different set of customers.

  “If she's hot, I'll have no problem giving her a long and slow screw,” Ricardo says under his breath.

  Tyrone looks at him and shakes his head. “I already told you, man. You can screw as many women as you want. It's not going to keep your mind off of Lou-Lou. Just talk to her.”

  “Drop it,” Ricardo barks.

  I finish my drink and put money on the bar. “Ready to go?”

  Ricardo shrugs. “Nah. We're here now. We might as well stay awhile.” He swirls the amber liquid around his glass before downing it. “We came here to drink our troubles away anyway.”

  I click my empty glass against his. “I'll drink to that.”

  ***

  Three games of darts and five rounds later we walk back to the bar for another round.

  Or in my case, stumble because I slammed three shots of 151 during the last round that we had and I'm pretty sure I've reached my limit.

  It's semi-crowded now, so we're forced to take the last three seats at the end of the bar.

  I'm drunk as fuck, but I notice there's a subtle shift in the atmosphere and it seems like everyone's eyes are glued to the same thing.

  When I look up, I find out why.

  There's some girl bent over a large cooler located at the back of the bar. Her shiny dark hair cascades down her back, but I'm too focused on the way her perfect little ass looks in the skirt she's wearing to notice much else. She leans down even further and I feel myself lean with her as I notice her skirt rising higher...hoping to be rewarded with a glimpse of her cheeks.

  I look over and Ricardo bites his knuckle. “Fuck me that's hot.”

  Tyrone shakes his head and looks down. “My dick belongs to Shelby. This is Shelby's dick,” he chants to himself.

  Ricardo and I burst out laughing.

  It feels good to laugh again. Even if it's only because I'm feeling the effects of the alcohol.

  I turn to him. “Goddamn, man. How can you ignore that? Even I'm looking at her,” I say. I point in the direction of where she last was and ignore Ricardo's tap on my shoulder. “I mean, she sure as fuck is putting it all out there. She's obviously looking for attention and a good time.”

  I turn to Ricardo, but he's shaking his head at me. I proceed to ignore him. “Looks like you found your quick fuck after all. I bet you won't even have to take her home to get it.”

  I swipe my hand in the air. “Hey, hot stuff,” I call out. “Thanks for the free show. But can I get another glass of whiskey?”

  When I turn my head back to the bar, I'm greeted by a pair of gorgeous, but furious hazel eyes.

  I must be drunker than I realized, because I swear, I see an exact replica of Alyssa standing before me, only with dark hair.

  I turn to Tyrone. “Are you seeing what I'm seeing?”

  He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, brother. And I think it's time to get you home.” He casts a sympathetic glance at Alyssa. “Look, he's really drunk right now. He doesn't know what he's saying.”

  Ricardo nods. “It's true, Alyssa. He's not exactly himself at the moment.”

  She crosses her arms over those perfect tits of hers and I groan.

  But even in my drunken state, I know this woman is poison. I have to get the fuck out of here.

  I put one arm around Ricardo and another around Tyrone. “You guys better get me home before her FBI—sugar daddy... and I do mean daddy because he's old enough to be her daddy...arrests me.”

  “Fuck,” Ricardo mutters.

  “Bro...shut up,” Tyrone yells.

  Before I know it, the glass of whiskey I asked for is being thrown in my face and Alyssa's storming off.

  Chapter 24 (Jackson)

  From what I'm told, everyone has at least one night in their life where they get too drunk and end up regretting it.

  I never had that night.

  Until last night.

  When I was a teenager, I was too busy taking care of Lilly...and when I was 21, I was too focused on MMA training.

  For most of my adult life, I avoided getting drunk altogether. Between having an addict for a mother, along with hating the feeling of losing control, I saw no reason to drink to the point of being obliterated.

  And this afternoon...I'm adding one more reason to that list.

  It makes you act like a dumbass and say stupid fucking things.

  Whoever said that a drunk mind speaks sober thoughts...was clearly still drunk off their ass.

  Tyrone told me everything I said last night...not even bothering to mince words.

  I never had any intention of seeing or talking to Alyssa again.

  But...I do owe her an apology for how I behaved last night.

  Which is why I'm currently making my way back to the bar that Alyssa now works at.

  If I'm being honest, a small part of me was hoping she wasn't working now so I wouldn't have to go through with this.

  But here she is, wiping down the surfaces of the almost empty bar. She's wearing a black t-shirt with the name 'Finnley's' written across it in white lettering and every time she moves I see a tiny sliver of her toned abdomen.

  She's also wearing pants now.

  Because I'm a dick.

  Shane nudges her and she looks up at me. Her expression tells me that I'm the last person she ever expected to see walk through that door. Shane leans down and whispers something in her ear. She shakes her head and he begrudgingly walks away...but not before giving me a dirty look.

  Guess he doesn't like me all that much anymore.

  I take a cautious seat at the bar and look around a little. It's not a big place, pretty small actually...but it does have a very laid back vibe going for it. It's definitely not one of those flashy bars that you hear about celebrities going to.

  That's when I take another look at her hair.

  It's a bit longer now and very dark, almost jet black.

  I'm not going to tell her...because then I'd have to acknowledge the fact that I still, somewhere deep inside of me; have feelings for her...but I like it. Really like it.

  I mean, she looked great as a blonde. But the dark hair?

  It makes her hazel eyes pop even more and it complements her ivory skin.

  She makes her way over to me after finishing up with the only other customer in the place.

  I don't miss the way her smile falls and her full lips form a tight line. Or the way she lifts her chin right before she walks over to me like she's preparing herself, putting on a brave face.

  And I definitely don't miss the look of sadness in her eyes before they turn intense. “Whiskey?” she asks.

  I detect a hint of snarkiness in her tone and I'm surprised to find that I actually miss her sassy side. Now that she's standing right in front of me, there's a lot of things I find I miss about her.

  But I have to force myself not to focus on that because if I do...I'll be reminded of the things I hate about her as well.

  Like what she did to me...how she hurt me.

  I fucking hate that she hurt me.

  Almost as much as I hate that I'm never going to kiss those lips or see that dimple again.

  I meet her gaze. “No...I think I had enough to drink for a lifetime last night.” I give her a smile. “And if I want more, I can always wring out the clothes I wore last night, right?”

  A ghost of a smile touches her lips. I can't tell if it's because she's recalling the memory, or smiling at my lame-ass attempt to break the ice.

  A part of me is hoping for the former because a part of me is proud of her for standing up for herself and throwing the whiskey right in my face.

  Alyssa's always been finicky when it comes to that sort of thing. Sometimes she defends herself...sometimes she runs.

  But she's not running now, which is good. Because I really do owe her that apology. “I'm sorry, Alyssa. There's no excuse for the way I acted or the things I said last night, so I'm not going to waste your time giving you any. I was wrong. Plain and simple.”

  There, I said it. Now my guard can go back up and I can walk away from her.

  She inhales deeply and bites her bottom lip. “I accept your apology. I know it wasn't easy to have to see me again.”

  She pauses, appearing to be debating the next words out of her mouth. “I wanted to look pretty,” she whispers, looking down at the floor.

  I have no idea what she's talking about. “Pardon?”

  “The reason I was wearing a skirt,” she says. “I, um. I wasn't looking for attention or anything. I wasn't trying to put it all out there like you said.”

  I open my mouth to apologize again, but she continues, “I haven't worn a skirt or a dress in over three months. I didn't want any reminders of the person I used to be...or the things I used to do. But last night, for whatever reason, I wanted to look pretty.” She pauses and draws in a shaky breath. “I realized it was a bad idea when a group of guys kept asking me for the bottles of beer that we keep in the cooler instead of what was on tap. Shane had an emergency and it was too late to change since I was by myself and it was getting packed.”

  Her brow wrinkles. “I heard your voice and it made me happy. But, then I heard the things you were saying about me. And whether I liked it or not, I had to accept that there were people in that bar who might have shared your thoughts. Maybe even some who thought I was a whore.”

  She looks me in the eyes. “But I'm not a whore, Jackson.” She gives me a small shrug. “I just wanted to tell you that.”

  There are moments in your life that you'll never forget. Some good, some bad, some life-changing.

  However, I never thought it was possible to fall in love with a single moment.

  Especially a moment with a person who's caused you so much pain.

  Especially when the moment puts you in your place for being a monumental asshole.

  But this moment right here?

  I love this moment.

  Despite what happened between us in the past, I still love this moment.

  There's so much strength, growth and beauty in this single moment pouring out from her.... I almost don't want to ruin it by talking.

  But I have to, if for nothing else then to say, “You're right, Alyssa. You're not a whore. You never were.” I wipe the tear from her cheek with my thumb and stand up. “I was wrong for the things I said last night. And I'm sorry.”

  I give her one last smile before I walk away.

  Then I put my armor up because I have to.

  I'm stepping out the door when I hear Alyssa's footsteps behind me. “Jackson, wait. Please.”

  I turn around and she grabs my hand and leads me to a small corner of the bar, giving us more privacy.

  “I'm sorry,” she says.

  I open my mouth to stop her, because although the moment we just shared was incredible, it doesn't erase what happened.

  And it doesn't change the fact that I'm still irate with her about it.

  “Please, I'm begging you to just hear me out,” she pleads. I go to turn away, but she tugs on my hand. “Ford was never my boyfriend. I was never with him!” she blurts.

  “Although, there was a point in my life when I thought I wanted that,” she amends.

  I pull my hand away and begin walking again.

  “I shouldn't have lied to you about him being in my life,” she calls out. “But if you knew about the things between us. The things that went on.”

  I stop mid-stride and turn around. “I don't want to know about those things, Alyssa. Keep them to yourself. Trust me, I really don't need to hear all about how you loved him and fucked him.”

  I didn't mean to raise my voice, but I didn't come here for this shit. I came here to apologize and go on with my life. Why can't she just let me?

  “But...Jackson. You don't understand.”

  No, she's the one who doesn't understand.

  “Did you have sex with him?”

  She steps back with a guilty expression her face. “Yes. But it was—”

  “Did you love him?” I interrupt.

  She worries her bottom lip between her teeth before answering, “Yes. But it wasn't—”

  I cut her off. “Did you lie to me about the nature of your relationship with him?”

  She looks down. “Yes.”

  I lean in close to her ear. “You see, Alyssa. It really doesn't matter what you think it was or what it wasn't between you and him. That's none of my business and quite frankly, I don't give a shit. The only thing that matters to me is that you loved him, you fucked him, you lied to me about him and all three of those things ended up hurting me.”

  I walk away from her this time with no hesitation.

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