Dirty(12)

He just watched me.

“I even pretty much kept to myself in college. Just concentrated on study and my waitressing job. Because work is everything, right? The guy I dated was pretty low key too. Neither of us were party animals.” I breathed out through my nose, shoulders slumping. “That romance kind of fizzled out after graduation.”

“Yeah?”

“He had this great opportunity overseas and I just wanted to find somewhere nice and settle. I tried a few different places. Coeur d’Alene was the first one that felt right. I’d make some friends outside of work, get to know my neighbors.” I stared off at nothing, avoiding whatever expression he had on his face. “That’s what’s normal, right?”

“One version of it, sure.”

“Hmm.” God, listening to myself try and explain my life made me want to forcibly throw myself off the nearest cliff. Or have a really full-on spa day. Either would probably do. “Given my history, its amazing I thought I had a clue what I was doing with Chris at all. I was the perfect target for his fuckery.”

I forced a smile. “Idiot is definitely the word.”

“Don’t say that,” he admonished. “You were a little naive maybe, inexperienced. But you’re not an idiot.”

“Thanks. Anyhoo, enough of my pity party. So,” I said, squaring my shoulders and looking him straight in the eye. “I’m guessing you don’t follow the rules or worry about being polite and toeing the line. How’s that working out for you?”

The corner of his lips twitched. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Shit,” he admitted, lacing his fingers behind his neck.

“Yeah? How deep?”

“Broke, out of work, probably about to lose this place.”

“Wow.” I slumped in my chair. “Aren’t we a pair?”

“Aren’t we?” His self-deprecating smile grew. “No money. No hope. No nothing.”

“Basically.”

His head fell back and he gazed up at the ceiling. The strong lines in his neck were way pronounced in this pose. I couldn’t quite see the tattoo peeking out beneath the collar of his tee. Words, but I’m not sure what. He raised his head enough to look at me from beneath his brows. “They have booze back over the fence at your fancy party?”

“Heaps. Really good stuff too. Lots of craft beer.”

“Nice. We should go steal some.”

I nodded instantly. Crazy ideas deserved support. “We should. It’s half my wedding, it wouldn’t really be stealing. You’re going to have to help me get back over the fence again, though. I think I pulled every muscle from the waist down getting over it the first time.”

“I can help you get back over the fence.”

“Done, then,” I said. “Tomorrow, we figure our lives out. Tonight we’ll toast to our crappy situations and drown our sorrows.”

We smiled at each other in kinship.

“How serious are you about this?” I asked, more curious than afraid. Mostly.

A shrug. “You got to go back there sometime. Might as well make it worth the trip.”

“I guess so.” My forehead furrowed. “Alcohol would be good.”

“I definitely need a drink to deal with being back here.” He slowly shook his head, lips curved downward. “Shit is fucked, babe. Like you wouldn’t believe.”

I didn’t mean to laugh. Not at his misfortunes, nor mine. Lord knows, nothing about it felt funny. Vaughan frowned at me. Only, then he started laughing too. First a little, then a lot. Soon the noise filled the room, startling the old house from its silence. He laughed until his wide shoulders shook and all that bright hair fell in his face, obscuring the cut of his cheeks. I in turn cackled my ass off until tears streamed down my face.

None of it should have been funny, but it was hilarious. And we, our lives, were the joke.

I guess sometimes there’s no right response but to laugh. So we did. Strangely enough, it really did help.

Sitting in a stranger’s kitchen, confessing all, was the last damn place I expected to find myself on this day of all days. Yet here we were. I’d spilled a stack of doubts and deep, dark secrets while the man opposite remained a mystery.

Just then he combed back his wild hair with long fingers, looking my way. A smile still lingered about his lips. A warm one. Perhaps even a suggestive one?

I don’t know.

It was certainly starting to heat me up inside. He didn’t break eye contact, just kept giving me his friendly, easy, sexy-as-sin smile. So gorgeous. Though this guy would be dazzling peeling potatoes or putting out the garbage. Look up “hot” in the dictionary and there’ll be Vaughan, making eyes at you from on the page.