Afraid to Fly (Fearless #2) (15 page)

Kami cringed. “Luke? As in Luke Skywalker? All I can imagine is Star Wars.”

“Then how about Wyatt? Or Liam?”

She made another face, expressing her disapproval at Blaine’s suggestions. “I don’t know.”

“Well, is there a name you
do
like?” he asked, exasperation in his tone.

“Well . . . I like the name Blaine,” Kam said meekly, her smile sweet and sheepish. “What if we named him after you?”

The pride on B’s face shone like rainbow rays of prismatic sunlight. “Blaine Junior,” he mused, testing it out. “Yeah, I like that too.”

“We can call him BJ for short!” his crude cousin added with boisterous laughter. Leave it up to CJ to turn baby names into something dirty. I was starting to believe that the guy genuinely lacked an
Off
switch.

“Um, make that Blaine-the-second,” Kami corrected over CJ’s howls. Of course, he was the only one laughing at his dumb joke.

Moments later, Angel strolled through the doors of Dive, her face somber and her eyes wet with watered down mascara. She leaned in to kiss both me and Kami on the cheek before sliding into the stool beside me. I reached over and took her hand, telling her that I was here for her, whatever the problem may be, but I wouldn’t press. And I damn sure wouldn’t ask her to rehash whatever shit was on her brain in a bar. I didn’t have to. The three of us were bonded so deeply, that those social nuances weren’t necessary. She knew I would be waiting to listen when she was ready. And if she needed me to be a punching bag, I could do that too.

“Hey, I was thinking,” Kami said, switching everyone’s focus off Angel’s evident pain. “I want us to start getting together for dinner every week. We can take turns hosting and cooking. So since it’s my idea, how about dinner this Sunday? I’ll cook!”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she was bombarded by appreciative hoots and hollers and even a few requests. Kami was half Filipina, and the girl could cook her ass off. Not just Asian food either. She was just a natural in the kitchen. A few weeks ago, she had even suggested a special once-a-week that would feature her famous pancit, adobo and lumpia. But of course, Blaine wouldn’t allow it right now. He wanted her off her feet as much as possible.

“Great! So it’s settled. Dinner this Sunday.”

“Aw, aren’t y’all sweet. Looks like my invite must’ve gotten lost in the mail.”

Damn.

And we almost made it through an entire meal.

We turned around to face Amanda, each of us displaying our irritation without remorse. She seemed not to see it, or maybe she just didn’t care. I had decided on the latter. Any person that delusional and self-absorbed didn’t give a damn about aggravating others.

“But I have plans anyway,” she explained, as if someone had asked her a fucking question. “I ran into Kenneth Walters today. Remember him from high school, Blaine baby? Anyway, he’s a successful lawyer now, driving around in a Maserati, and he looks amazing. He asked me to join him on a Sunday drive down to this little vineyard he frequents. The weather is supposed to be beautiful, and you know I love to ride with the top down.”

Barf.

“Good for you,” Blaine stated flatly, not meaning any of it.

“I told him it may not be a good idea, considering you and him weren’t the best of friends, and given our relationship—”

“There is no relationship,” he corrected, his tone clipped.

Amanda waved it off with a chuckle before twisting a lock of hair between her fingers. She wanted to believe it was a flirty move, but it was actually a sign of insecurity. “You know what I mean. Anyway, he assured me that you wouldn’t mind, considering that he was once very,
very
good friends with Miss Kami here. Isn’t that cute.”

The smugness in her over-tanned face was the icing on the shit-filled cake that she had just served Kam. I was seething mad, and considering the heat I felt from both Angel and Kami on either side of me, I knew that shit was about to go down.

Blaine wasn’t taking the bait. “And your point?”

“Oh, just thought that was interesting, is all. Someone like him with someone like her.” She flipped her hair on the word
her,
which looked every bit like a dismissal.

“Someone like her?” Angel sneered, her voice eerily calm. Oh fuck. I knew exactly what that meant. And considering she was already in a mood, this would not end well for poor, personality-stunted Amanda. “What the fuck do you mean,
someone like her?
Someone kind? Beautiful? Compassionate? Because you are fucking right that some pretentious dick-knuckle like Kenneth “Minute Man” Walters has no fucking business with a girl as amazing as Kami Duvall. Just ask
Blaine baby
over here. Obviously,
he
likes it. And that’s why he’s putting a ring on it.”

Amanda reeled back like Angel had just slapped the taste out of her mouth.
“What?”

“What?” Kami gasped, just as stunned.

My eyes darted from her to Angel, who had her hand clasped over her mouth, and then to Blaine, who was frozen in place, his eyes as wide as his mouth.

“Daaaaaamn!”
CJ howled, slapping his hand on the bar. It served as the war cry that set all hell loose.

“You didn’t hear that!” Angel trilled at the same time Kami said, “I didn’t hear that!”

Amanda demanded an explanation for Angel’s heinous claim, as if someone here actually gave a fuck enough to even remember she was still standing here. CJ continued to laugh his ass off. And I turned to a pale white Blaine to apologize on Angel’s behalf.

I felt horrible. This was not how he wanted that news to come out. He had been waiting for the right time, and that time could not occur as long as Amanda was still sniffing around, trying to proposition him at every turn. She had tried it with me the first time I saw her, hoping to get him jealous, but I quickly shut her down, letting her know where my loyalties lie.

“Dammit,” Blaine snapped, before throwing a dishtowel at CJ to shut him up. “You cover the bar.” When he looked at Kami next, his gaze softened immediately. He extended his palm to her. “And you . . . come with me.”

Tentatively, Kami rose to her feet and slowly walked to the half door on the side of the bar. Blaine met her there and ushered her to the back room. They needed privacy, and as much as I wanted to stick around to find out if Blaine would officially pop the question, I needed to get WikiLeaks Cassidy out of here before she got another bout of verbal diarrhea. I pulled out a few bills and slapped them on the counter.

“CJ, tell her I’ll call her later.” I didn’t have to specify
her.

Then I slid off the stool and went to stand before Amanda, a mocking grin on my face. “Your open case with social services . . . interesting. I happen to be tight with most of the staff over there. Be careful. All it takes is a phone call . . .”

I didn’t even wait to witness the horror. I just grabbed Angel and got the hell out of there.

“Open case? Social services?” she asked as soon as we burst through the door.

I shook my head. “I was bluffing.” Just as I had bluffed with Raven. I had never passed Toby on to another mentor. But she didn’t need to know that. “But considering she didn’t refute, it tells me that she has one. Hopefully that’ll be the motivation she needs to quit coming around.”

“Genius, Trevino,” Angel mused, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “You’re a fucking genius.”

“And you’re a fucking Chatty Cathy. Seriously, Ang?”

“I know, I know,” she groaned, smacking her forehead. “Shit, I wasn’t even thinking. I fucked up.”

“You did. But your ass-chewing is going to have to wait. Some of us have jobs to get to.” I leaned over and pressed my lips to the soft skin of her cheek, tasting the salty remains of tears. “We’ll talk tonight, but I have an errand to run after work. Think you can meet me?”

“Sure. Where?”

I ignored her question and simply said, “Bring singles.”

Judging by the wicked gleam in her eye, no further explanation was necessary.

Y
OU’D THINK MOFOS HAD
better things to do on a Monday night than be holed up in a strip club. But nope. They were here—which was why I was here—balancing a tray of drinks while wearing something I’d probably wear to the beach. And to top it all off, I was still reeling from the news of Dominic being very taken by his very pregnant girlfriend/wife/significant other/what-the-fuck-ever. So as usual, I was in a mood. But at least Toby was back to not hating me, so that was a plus. Actually, it was the only thing that was keeping me going at this point, and the reason why I put up with this bullshit job.

I never wanted to work in a strip club, but being a student by day and raising a kid meant that my options were limited. And say what you want, but pervy guys were good tippers. So I did what I had to do to pay the bills, even if it did make me feel like I had bathed in the sweat, spooge and shimmery body oil every night.

“Hey, love. What’s up?” Velvet greeted me, as I loaded my tray with beers for a table full of guys in suits. They looked nice enough on the outside but had been way inappropriate. I had had to slap a few hands already.

“Nothing much,” I sighed before nodding at the table in question. “Dickhead alert.”

Velvet turned around to catch one of them pretending to deep throat an invisible cock. His friends cracked up like it was comedic genius and not something baby pricks did in middle school. She shook her head and looked back at me with a frown. “Did you tell Tiny?” Tiny was one of our bouncers, and at 6’7 and pushing 300 pounds, he was anything but tiny.

“Nah. They’re just assholes. Hopefully, they’ll drink their bottled piss and go home to their wives soon.”

“Well, if they keep bothering you, don’t put up with that shit. You know Tiny will have them shitting themselves in a heartbeat. It’s been a while since he’s had a good barney.”

I smiled and shook my head. “You Brits and your verbiage.”

“Well,
this
Brit is going to set you up this weekend. You need a date, love. I love you, but you get pissier and pissier every day.”

“Not this again,” I groaned, hoisting the tray on my shoulder. “I am not going out on a date with a guy you’ve slept with. That is just skeevy as hell.”

“It’s not like that! Honest!”

I rolled my eyes and peered over at the table of guys who stared back expectantly, thirsty for both the beer and the opportunity to harass me some more. “Look, we’ll talk about this later. The longer I stand here and stall, the more those idiots will ogle me from across the club.”

“Ok. But we
will
talk about it.” Then she pecked me on the cheek before slinking towards the exit, hips swinging.

I braced myself before scurrying over to the table, eager to get it over with. As I expected, the guys started in on me as soon as I got in earshot. I didn’t get it—they had a whole club-full of naked, available tits to stare at. Tits that
wanted
their attention. So why were they ogling mine? I mean, they were pretty decent tits, but they were nothing like the huge racks on display.

“About time, sweetheart. I was getting so thirsty, my tongue had gone dry. Wanna feel?” one especially slurry douchenozzle shouted over the pulsing rhythms of Rihanna.

His equally fuck nut friend looked me up and down, licking his chops. “Aw, Kenneth. She looks like the type that would know how to wet it for you. Aren’t you, darlin’?”

I ignored it. They wanted me to react. It would have served as entertainment for them. Instead, I simply distributed their beers, a tight, manufactured smile on my face. As I was leaning forward to place a bottle in front one of the morons, I felt a hand sneak up my bare thigh. Instantly, I flinched, and the bottle slipped out of my hand and toppled over onto the table, its foamy contents splashing onto the lap of the jerk off who had called me
Darlin’
in that mocking, southern drawl.

“Fucking hell! Watch it!”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, trying to bite back a smile, as I sopped up the mess with the extra napkins stuffed in my apron. “Here. Let me go get a towel.”

I took my sweet ass time getting back to them, even taking a detour to check on my other tables. When I arrived, I could feel the drunken agitation in their stares, crawling all over me with a mix of both hate and lust. They hated me because I had purposely made them wait, and they knew it. Yet, that did nothing to cloud their lust.