Breathless Promises (Alluring Promises Series Book 3) (16 page)

BOOK: Breathless Promises (Alluring Promises Series Book 3)
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Ian appeared before me again, eying my glass. “Another one so quick?” I nodded as I watched him smile and fill it again.

Reaching for it, I inhaled deeply again knowing the second one would bring me closer to my goal and hopefully further from my suicidal thoughts on the rooftop. I let the liquid warm my mouth again, my throat, my stomach and then finally flowed through my body. The warmth spread through my limbs. The initial numbing tingled before completely sinking in. I wiggled my fingers and watched them move as if they were part of someone else’s body.

I stared into the mirror ahead of me and watched the couples in the reflection chatting and smiling. Some were cuddled together and kissing. Life was happening all around me and all I wanted to do was go back to the rooftop. I closed my eyes and tried to shake that desire. I brought the glass back to my lips for another shot of numbness.

After finishing the glass, I signaled to Ian by shaking the glass.

“You all right, Aubrey? Is everything okay? I’ve never seen you drink this stuff.” He seemed to actually care, but I knew this was just part of his job. He’s supposed to pretend to care. Bartenders are like therapists, Sandy always tells me. She’s told me the type of stuff people blurt out to her.

“I’m feeling…calm, Ian. It’s a beautiful thing.” I gave him a faint smile as he grabbed my glass timidly and poured more Jack into it. He placed the crystal glass in front of me in the same manner he had just removed it.

I stared at him and couldn’t help but wonder what type of lover he might be—probably a gentle one. Not many men are like that. They all want to fuck hard to just use my body. 

Grabbing the glass from the bar, I watched him turn around. I couldn’t tell, but thought maybe he had his cell phone out. Sighing to myself, I wondered if he had a girlfriend. A small feeling of guilt crept through me that it never occurred to me to ask.

The more I sat there, the more the numbness set in. I slid the glass to Ian as he walked down to my end of the bar. I’ve never been rude and wasn’t about to start now. “Please.” My voice sounded desperate despite not feeling that way. Or did I?

He took the glass, but seemed like he was considering saying something. I watched his eyes flick to the entrance to the bar and then turned back to pour more whiskey into my glass. It seemed like he was taking forever. Or maybe that was just my imagination and impatience mixed together. Resting my chin on the backs of my hands that were spread out on the marble counter top, I sighed while I watched him pour. Finally, he set the glass in front of me and my eyes briefly met his. His were pity ridden and full of sympathy.

“Don’t look so grim, Ian.” My words were slurred, probably because I hadn’t bothered to lift my head from my hands.

“I’m worried about you, Aubrey. You’re always so put together.”

“Sometimes the most put together need to fall apart once in a while, Ian.” I wasn't even sure if that made any sense at all. It did right now, at least. I sat up and drank the liquid fast, no longer feeling its warmth. Now it was just coating and suppressing my feelings and that’s all I wanted.

“Hey, sexy. What are you doing down here?” I heard a familiar voice ask. It was odd though and as I looked up at Clark I realized through my fog that his voice wasn’t full of his usual sarcasm. Pity. It wasn’t a pity he sounded like that. It was pity that laced his tone.

I glanced over at Ian and realized his little head nod toward Clark meant that was probably who he had sent a text to earlier.
Great.

“What’re you doin’ down here?” My words slurred more than they had before. I watched a faint smile cross his beautiful lips. They seemed fuller than before. More plump and red. They looked delicious and I felt a different type of warmth spread through me than what I just felt from the amber liquid moments ago.

After taking in my fill of his lips, I searched his face. Five o’clock shadow adorned it giving him that sexy edge I loved about him. My eyes continued to scan his looks and then I realized as I made my way to his hair how disheveled it was. Immediately, I remembered why he would have this arousing presence. He’s been freshly fucked. She’s probably still up in his room too.

His deep voice cut through my thoughts as I continued to stare at him. “I just asked you the same thing. Everything okay? You still thinking about that asshole, Greg?” He stood next to me and rested his elbow on the counter looking as if he were modeling for a magazine.

My stomach churned just hearing that name and I swallowed hard. “Maybe.” I took another drink from my glass, wishing he hadn’t brought up Gregory. Tears brimmed my eyes just thinking about him.

“He’s gotta be gay, you know. If he just cast you aside like that. What man wouldn’t want a woman like you unless he prefers men?” His voice was much calmer than it usually is when he cracks jokes like that. He seemed almost sincere.
Almost
. It’s Clark, though.

“Well, that might explain a lot,” I huffed. Tears slid down my cheek as Gregory’s face filled my mind accompanying the feeling of missing what I almost had. “And just make him even more attractive to me.” I hadn’t meant for my voice to crack as I said that, but the sting of more tears threatened to flow, so I grabbed the glass and downed whatever was left in my glass. I looked down at Ian, who was staring now in our direction. I shook my glass again and he quickly looked away.
Well, that’s rude
, I thought to myself. What kind of a bartender does that?

I looked up at Clark and noticed his eyes were focused in the same direction. They darted to mine and he gave me a faint smile.

“Did you just cut me off?” I griped as I sat back. It actually sounded more like a whine after I thought about it more.

The corner of his mouth turned up a bit more, showing a really faint dimple. Or maybe it was a dot on his cheek since now I was pretty sure I was more than tipsy.
He can’t cut me off.
I’m sure he could be easily swayed. I was drunk enough now that another night with him, breaking my rule, might be a possibility for him. Just so I can feel more of this numbness, I’d do it. The regrets I could deal with later.

Swiveling my legs around on the stool, I opened them as I wrapped my hands around each side of his waist pulling him close to me. His brows perked up as he looked down at me and I realized right then he wasn’t wearing his Clark Kent glasses. Without the black rims framing this eyes, I could see the warm brown color more clearly. Well, as clear as my eyes would allow as mine pulled in and out of focus.

A laugh escaped his mouth causing me to stare at his full wet lips. “What’s wrong? You look confused.”

“You’re not wearin’ glasses. Can ya see?” My slurring was getting worse. I bit on my tongue slightly to see if I could even feel it. It was there because I felt like I was biting something, but there was no pain.
Hmm. I like that. No pain
.

“Wow. You really are drunk.” He chuckled. A quick turn of his head, his eyes focused on something behind me and then back to mine. “Come on. Let’s get you home, Aub.” His hand wrapped around me and supported me under my arm, pulling me from the stool.

Whoa.
I stumbled forward like a newborn foal, realizing my legs were just as numb as the rest of my body. Clark’s strong arm pulled me up close to him as I tried to regain some sort of control over my legs. I pushed back, trying to stand on my own, but he pulled me closer as he held me up.

“Let me help you.” Clark’s voice was caring, so unlike his usual manner. I straightened as best as I could and allowed him to guide me to the elevators. The confusion set in of Clark being helpful and then the clarity hit as we stood in the elevator. Knowing he probably wants something in return, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his head toward mine. Pressing my lips to his, I felt that familiar hunger sweep over me. The way his lips claimed mine made me feel like I was his only one. Knowing everything I do about him now, it’s amazing how he can do that. And that’s when I realized he was just with someone else and she was possibly still in his room right now.

I pulled back and teased, “Mmm, she tastes good.” Not really tasting anything of the sort. After all of the Jack I drank, my taste buds were dead.

He chuckled. “I brushed my teeth, Aub and I didn’t go down on her either.”
Well, that was TMI
.

“Mmm, then
you
taste good.” I pulled him in for another one. He faked me out and kissed my cheek.

Did he just turn me down? No one turns me down
—except Gregory.
Thinking about that twisted my gut and angered me at the same time.
I turn guys down; they don’t turn me down. I have the power, not them.
As the argument ensued in my head, I heard a faint bell in the distance and realized we were on our floor just as Clark pulled me out of the elevator and toward our door.

Once inside, he guided me to my room. I stared at the bed unsure if I could return to it. The nightmare would come back and I wasn’t sure if I numbed myself enough to be able to attempt sleep again.

“I’ll lie down with you, if you want.” Clark’s voice cut through my thoughts again. He probably wants sex. Wait. Didn’t he just turn me down for a kiss? Sex would occupy my thoughts though, actually. I turned to him and gave him my seductive smile as I licked my lips. He chuckled as he shook his head.

“Aub, you’re too drunk. I’ll take you up on that when you’re sober. I only take advantage of sober women.” He smirked then and tilted his head to the side. “Well, mostly sober...” He chuckled as he said that.

I sauntered to him and ran my finger along his chest. “I’m na drunk. I can please you to the same as the lasted time.”

“Like I said, I’ll wait til you’re sober, Aub.” He pulled me to the bed and attempted to help me, but I pushed him away—angry that he was turning me down. Clark, the manwhore, was turning me down. 

“Fuck you!” I shoved him hard this time as a drunken rage swept over me. “Get outta my room!” His eyes grew wide, surprised by my reaction. He pressed his lips together as I yelled at him again, “Get. Out.” I could see the quandary going on in his head. He was debating the whole scenario and I couldn’t blame him for it. After all, I just tried to kiss him in the elevator and then I turn into some monstrous angry bitch. His expression was a mix of annoyance and compassion right before he walked out of my room and closed the door. I wasn’t sure if I was angrier that he left or that he turned me down. I grabbed my shoe off my foot and threw it at the door. It hit with a thud and fell to the floor. “Asshole,” I muttered. Gregory turned me down first and now Clark.
My life just keeps getting better,
I thought to myself.

Perhaps I should start dating again. Maybe then I’d be able to enjoy myself a little. Or would I feel even lonelier and just keep thinking about Gregory…or my Uncle’s “advice.”

The contents of my brown leather purse fell out of the top from when I slung it onto the bed. I reached into it and pulled out my phone. I was just about to click on one of my dating site apps, when a text popped up from Uncle Chad. My mouth dried immediately and I felt my stomach churn.

Uncle Chad:
Aubrey, It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. Your mom’s birthday party is coming up soon. It’ll be nice to see you again.

I tossed my phone to the side.
Nice to see me again
? My stomach churned at the thought of being in the same room with him again.

Everyone else trusted him. They believed his façade. I wished I could see him as everyone else saw him, how I perceived him to be before that horrible night. And each time after.

I have to get out of going to Mom’s party.

She would be upset. Dad would be upset, too.

My hands shook as I picked my phone back up, re-reading the text. Wanting to just once, enjoy my time with him like I had when I was younger.

I stared at the screen. I didn’t want to reply. He would probably call my mom and try to push that I should be there. The best thing I could do was not respond. 

I closed my eyes and tried to picture a normal relationship with him. The type that everyone believed us to have, where he was truly a loving uncle. The fantasy always repeated in my head. It was one of a loving niece going out with her favorite uncle for a nice dinner. He was the uncle everyone had always listened to as he told his wild stories and had laughed at his fun jokes. An uncle I once looked up to and admired.

But that fantasy was crushed when I was sixteen. 

I felt the blood drain from my face as my stomach lurched. The bile rose up my throat and knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it down. I almost tripped as I rushed to the bathroom just in time.

I lied down afterward and stared at the ceiling, unable to close my eyes. Even with all the alcohol coursing through me, I knew deep down that behind my eyelids the nightmares would be more vivid.

It dawned on me as I stared at my closet that I had mini bottles of liquor in my travel bag from when I worked at the hotel. The little travel sized things filled my bag as I dealt with distributors for the mini bars. I opened the bag and rummaged through hearing the small glass bottles clink against one another. I grabbed the first one I could and laid my purse open next to me.

Twisting the little cap, I drained the contents into my mouth like a baby bird being fed. Two more bottles clashed together as I grabbed them and lie down on my bed.

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