And maybe it was more than that. But like fuck if I was going to talk to Kennedy about that shit. She might be my fuck buddy, but she was still a woman. A woman with long claws she liked to sink into me when she got the chance.
“What is wrong with you? You’re acting weird. You’re never like this after a game,” she huffed.
I didn’t need her psychoanalysis of my emotional state. I knew exactly what I needed. I looked around for Julie. I hadn’t seen her since I walked out of the storeroom, but I had Kennedy to thank for that.
I felt the familiar squeeze on my thigh, inching toward my cock. It was still hard and throbbing.
“Well hello, baby,” she sighed.
I pushed her off my leg. “Knock it off, Kennedy.”
“You’re playing hard to get tonight? I can role play if you want.” Her fingers walked over my bicep as if they were a pair of legs.
“I assure you I’m not.”
“You’re as hard as a rock. Let’s get out of here and fuck.”
I’d had enough. Before I could snap at her, I saw the flash of blond hair from the corner of my eye. I turned and heard Julie’s voice in an unnatural octave.
There was a big burly biker hot on her heels.
“Look, I told you, Steve. I'm not interested.”
“Aww … Come on, babe," he said, grabbing her ass.
She cried out, swatting at his hulking hand. His other hand latched onto her waist.
I lost it. It sent me over the edge. Her pleas. His relentless stupidity. I jumped from the table, knocking the stool over in the process.
Within a second, I was face to face with the bastard.
“Steve, is it? Why don't you leave her the fuck alone?” My eyes raged with anger.
“Why don't you mind your own damn business? This is between me and the bitch.”
“It’s fine, Hawk, I’ve got it,” Julie eked out as Mike reached around and grabbed her ass again.
Fury filled me. I’d be damned if I was going to stand here and let him continue to touch her after she had already told him to stop. I lost all composure. I seized him and turned him to face me. I reared back to punch him. Before I could, Joe gripped my arm, holding me back just as the biker’s fist sailed toward my face. The impact pushed Joe and me backward.
I saw red. There was only one way this would end.
Everything around me faded as the fuel of injustice powered through me. All I could focus on was Steve and his filthy hands all over Julie. Her telling him over and over to stop. I hit him once that I knew of and then probably again, but I couldn’t remember.
“Dude. Stop. The cops have been called,” Joe pleaded.
At that moment, the blackness swallowed me whole.
6
Julie
My stomach rumbled for the tenth time in the last five minutes. This time loud enough to be heard across the room. I had forgotten breakfast as I rushed out the door this morning. And I hadn’t thought about bringing lunch. Again.
I needed to start taking better care of myself, but there were only so many hours in a day and it seemed that out of the twenty-four most people were able to function with, I had thirty-five hours of work to complete. That didn’t include showering or eating.
I rubbed the back of my neck and tried to reach up on my toes to get a stretch down the back of my legs. I should have been used to being on my feet all day, but once I added night shifts, my body revolted. It was too much. All of it.
There was another reason I couldn’t eat. It could be summed up in two words: Kane Hawkins.
I sighed louder than I meant to, but I glanced out the windows that lined the wall on the left of the classroom. All the children were on the playground, and I had a break from recess duty. I had a minute to let my stomach roll with the memory of what happened last week. It wavered between nausea, excitement, and dread.
I turned from the window. It was supposed to be easy money. Guaranteed to add enough cash in my pocket to pay my bills so I didn’t have to leave the education center. I sat on the corner of my desk. I took a job doing something humiliating so I could keep one that meant more to me than anything else. It was some kind of twisted poetic irony.
Nothing else that happened once I tied on that waitress apron made any sense. I almost had sex in the back of the bar. I had let a man I’d never met touch me. Kiss me. Lick me. Suck me like a piece of candy.
And I liked it. No, I loved it.
And for what? To get pawed at by a drunken biker? And then to have Kane Hawkins defend my honor and end up being hauled off to jail? None of it made sense.
I felt guilty. Guilty about everything. The almost sex. Missing part of my shift. The fight. Hawk’s arrest. Dragging my ass to work exhausted every morning this week. There wasn’t a corner I could turn to where I didn’t feel the guilt.