Last Call (Bad Habits Book 3) (18 page)

“One or two.”

I chuckled as we headed out the door. “I thought you were looking for one of the Tonic boys?”

She shrugged. “There’s plenty of me to go around.”

“What’s Tonic?” Greg asked as we walked down the hall and to the stairs.

“The tattoo parlor where Patrick works,” I answered.

“Ah. How do you know him?”

Ellie and I spoke at the same time.

“They used to date,” she said, just as I said, “He lives down the hall.”

I froze my face to give nothing away, even though I died a little inside. Ellie just kept talking, not even realizing I was mortified.
 

“They’ve lived down the hall from each other forever, but he’s actually living with us now, sorta. On account of his roommate and Rose’s roommate getting busy all the time.”

Greg, being the goddamn gentleman he was, took it all in stride, smiling at me in a way that told me it was fine, and he knew I was embarrassed, and that he was sorry for that. “Well, that sounds simple enough.”

Ellie laughed. “Yeah, right. Rose walked in on him getting out of the shower the other day and I thought she was going to have a stroke.”

I laughed, or at least tried to make a noise that sounded like a laugh, though it came out more like a cough and a cackle, or something awkward like that.

Greg let us both go and pushed open the door to our building. Ellie passed first, then me, as I wished I could sink into the floor and disappear. But Greg touched my arm and smiled, saying, “Too bad for him that she’s with me tonight.”

My heart fluttered as I stepped out, and he followed, giving me his arm once more. Ellie was on her own and didn’t seem to mind, just strutted down the sidewalk in that sparkly dress, nearly stopping traffic when we crossed the street. No less than four men and two chicks turned to get a good look at her walking away. She chatted the whole time, and I mercifully steered the conversation to LA, getting her going all the way to Habits.

Ellie was right. I picked a good one.

When we reached the bar, I was on top of the world, feeling hopeful. Very hopeful.

Until we stepped inside, and I saw Patrick. My very first thought, once I could think, was me wondering if I’d ever truly get over him.

Patrick stood in a pack of people, his friends — Joel, Shep, West, and Cooper — who were all laughing. But time stood still for a long moment as my eyes drank in every detail.
 

The line of his jaw was hard, yet somehow still smooth, his skin perfect, almost the only part of him that wasn’t covered in tattoos — the ink on his neck licked at his jaw like black flames. His nose somehow made his face look boyish, his face always shaven, his hair always neatly combed, but that was all underscored by the chaos of the art that covered his body, the hardness of him at odds with the soft.
 

But his eyes were the most striking thing of all. They were eyes constantly burning, always on fire, eyes that told you exactly what he felt. And when they found mine, my knees almost buckled.

I held on to Greg’s arm like a lifeline, looking away to search for Lily as I tried to regain some level of composure. It was my only defense against him — ignore, ignore, ignore.

Lily and Maggie sat at a high top, sipping their drinks. They waved as we stepped around the crowd there for Patrick, and I did my very best to pretend like he didn’t exist. Not yet, at least. Not until my heart quit hammering.

Lily stood and hugged me, blond hair in soft waves, her dress made of pink lace and flared, lips red and smiling. I swear, the ballerina thing was coded into her genetics.

“Hey,” she said, looking past me at Greg when she pulled away. She extended a hand. “Greg, right? It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Lily.”

“It’s a pleasure.” He smiled amiably and gave her hand a squeeze.
 

Maggie waved, her short, curly hair bobbing. “And I’m Maggie,” she said, her Mississippi drawl sweet and sugary.
 

“So,” I said as I turned to Greg, “welcome to Habits, our home away from home.”

Ellie stood at my side, blatantly shopping the guys, sizing them up. They didn’t seem to mind in the slightest — in fact, I could practically see the testosterone wafting off them.

West and Cooper turned to us, and we said our hellos. As we all shifted to greet one another, I ended up next to Patrick. So I did what I was supposed to do. What I wanted to do just as much as I didn’t.

I leaned in and gave him a hug, holding my breath so I wouldn’t breathe him in. “Happy birthday, Tricky.”

His hand slipped around my waist, bringing our bodies flush for a brief moment. “Thank you, Rose,” he said near my ear, though I could barely hear over the sound of my heart, like it was calling to him.

I pulled away, overwhelmed, avoiding eye contact as I remembered myself and looked for Greg behind me. I slipped my arm around his as if to say I was his, pretending I was unaffected, though I could feel both men watching me. I smiled under the weight of it all.

I realized then that I wasn’t as good at playing it cool as I thought I was. I also realized that bringing Greg here was a colossal mistake.

“Want a drink?” Greg asked, snapping me back to the moment.

I smiled my waitress smile that covered up my feelings like a mask, feeling like a fool. “Neat scotch, thanks.”

He smiled back, and I had a feeling his smile was as fake as my own. “Be right back.”

I stepped over to Lily again, keeping my back to Patrick. She nodded, smiling.
 

“He’s super cute, Rosie.”

Ellie set down her bag and took a seat next to Lily. “And nice, too.”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have brought him here. It’s about a kabillion times more awkward than I thought it would be.”

Maggie smirked. “It’s the first time you’ve really been with a guy in front of Patrick, plus Greg is meeting all of your friends, all of whom are friends with Patrick too. It’s a big deal.”

“I mean, Tricky met him last night.” It was the weakest defense ever.

Ellie made a face. “Sort of. And he wasn’t all smiles and handshakes.”

I chuffed. “No, more like switchblade eyes and bro nods.”

Maggie sighed and glanced behind me, presumably at Patrick. “It’s like watching a panther circle its supper. I don’t know how you don’t cave.”

“Sometimes I don’t either.”

Lily’s face got a little more serious. “Oh, God. Rosie, don’t look yet, but Veronica just walked in.”

I’d nearly forgotten about her with everything else spinning around my head. I moved around the table like I was going to talk to Ellie so I could catch a glimpse and immediately wished I hadn’t.

Veronica looked a lot like me, except with a badass supermodel upgrade. She was so gorgeous, she looked like she belonged in a comic book or something, all long legs and piercings, tattoos everywhere. She’d just approached Patrick — they were smiling, and she kissed him on the cheek.
 

I tried to swallow my feelings, but they stuck in my throat like a cork.

She was flanked by … Penny, I think was her name, with long hair the color of grass and bangs cut like a pinup girl. She was dressed like a pinup girl too, in high-waisted pants and a black, polka-dotted top with a sweetheart neckline and tiny buttons down the front. You’d think she’d look weird, having hair the color of a lime snow cone and all, but when coupled with her winged liner, piercings, tattoos, and deep red lips, she just looked like she belonged in a magazine too.
 

I felt about as fashionable as the K-Mart clearance rack.

Greg walked up with my drink, mercifully, giving me something to avert my eyes toward as well as eighty-proof liquor to calm my nerves. A large part of me was ready to bail. I looked up at him and smiled, trying to figure out the fastest way to get out of there. We could stay for a drink. Maybe go back to my place. Try to reset the weird.
 

I wondered if he felt it too. If I was reading his body language effectively, he definitely did.

West and Cooper pulled up next to their girls to chat with Greg, and I sipped my scotch, attempting to pay attention. I’d nearly finished my drink and was about to ask Greg if he wanted to get out of there when I felt a hand on my arm.

“Ah, Rose?”

Please, don’t be Veronica
, I thought as I turned, standing so straight, I could have had a two-by-four up my ass.
 

It was totally Veronica.

She glanced behind me at everyone and sort of waved at everyone. We’d all met her a few times before Patrick brought her into the bar after he dumped me. The group was still, faces frozen in smiles. Maggie waved back, a small motion, the only one.

“Um, I’m sorry to interrupt, but do you have a second?”

I looked up at Greg with apologetic eyes, then back at her. “Ah, sure.”

I followed her away from the throng and toward the bar, feeling everyone’s eyes on us, especially Patrick’s. I swear, they burned hotter than everyone else’s, and I exhausted a large supply of my concentration trying to focus on her.

“Can I buy you a drink?” she asked over her shoulder.

Mine was empty, and even if I could refuse the olive branch, I needed another stiff drink. And soon. “Thanks,” I answered.

We stepped up to the bar, and Veronica leaned on the surface, waiting for Shelby to make her way down to us. I took the opportunity to look her over once more — her hair was black as midnight, lips a deep burgundy, dressed head to toe in black. She turned to me with those dark lips of hers smiling.

Fake-ass smile: activate.
 

“Listen,” she started tentatively, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m really sorry. For what happened with Tricky, and all,” she clarified. “I—”

Shelby walked up, and we shared a brief look before she asked, “Hello, ladies. What’ll it be?”

“Makers and Coke, for me,” Veronica answered.

“Glenlivet, neat. Thanks, Shelb.”

“No problem.”

Veronica laid a twenty and a few singles on the bar and turned back to me as Shelby poured our drinks. “Rose, I want you to know that I had no idea what was going on between the two of you when he asked me to come here with him that night. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have agreed. In fact, I didn’t understand what was up until we left.”

Shelby brought our drinks by and picked up the cash.

“Keep the change,” Veronica said with a wave, and Shelby smiled and walked away. She picked up her drink. “You know, we left here that night, and I thought he’d been a little weird, but I wasn’t sure what was going on. Like, I knew you guys had dated, but I had no idea if it was serious or not, and I wasn’t sure when you’d broken up. You know how he is … he’s pretty private about … well, everything.”

“Yeah, I do know.” I picked up my scotch and took a sip.
 

“Anyway, when we left, he basically dumped me on the sidewalk. He told me a little about you two, apologized for bringing me into it. I could have punched him for the both of us, but instead, I bitched him out and left him standing outside the bar, hopefully feeling like a dick. I almost came back in here that night to talk to you, but you were here with your friends, and … I don’t know. I was embarrassed. I should have come back then, and I’m sorry for that too.”

I sighed, part of me wishing she was a bitch so I could hate her. But I couldn’t hate her. She’d been taken for just as much of a ride as I had. Sorta.

She turned to face me. “You don’t owe me anything, Rose. But I wanted to let you know.”

“Thank you, Veronica. Really,” I said, humbled. “You didn’t have to come to me, and you didn’t have to buy me this drink, but I appreciate it. All of it.”

“It’s the least I can do. Joel told me a little more about what kind of damage I caused, and I hate that I was a part of that.”

“Don’t let that get to you. I don’t blame you. I blame him.”

She chuckled. “I’m not gonna lie — I had a thing for him for a long, long time. But after that fiasco? You couldn’t pay me.”

I smirked. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

She glanced over at him and sighed. “No, what I mean is that I could never be with a man who was in love with someone else.”

“Oh,” I said quietly.

“Seeing you together makes it even more real. Like, everything makes a lot more sense.” She looked down at her drink and smiled, shaking it to clink the ice together. “Anyway, thanks again. I’m glad we’re cool.”

“Cheers to that.” I raised my glass.
 

She clinked her glass to mine. “Bottoms up.”

We drank and headed back to the group. Greg caught my eye, and I smiled at him with barely enough time to be grateful that Cooper and West had kept him company, just before Seth stepped in front of me, effectively cutting me off.

I tried not to recoil and plastered that smile back on. “Hey, Seth. Good to see you again so soon. How’s it going?”

“Can’t complain,” he said as I looked him over.
 

Seth had always been a good-looking guy, blond and fair, gorgeous green eyes and a smile full of joy — the same he wore as he stood across from me in Habits, ginger ale in hand — however fabricated his joy typically was. He was fun, when the circumstances were right, witty, a charmer. But when he drank, when he was high, well, that was another story all together. It was his Mr. Hyde, the darkness brought out by addiction.
 

That part of him had all but disappeared. But I hadn’t forgotten that it was still just under the surface, waiting for the moment it would boil back to life.

“You look good,” I said. “Tricky said you’ve turned a corner. I’m really happy for you.”

He stuffed his free hand into his pocket. “Aw, don’t go getting sappy on me, Rosie. How many times did we come to Habits back in the day?”

I chuckled. “And how many times did I have you thrown out?”

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Not my best self, was it?”

“Not usually,” I said with a smile.

He sighed. “Well, I’m just glad I made it out, you know? No more fighting to survive. Not everyone gets to say that.”

“True.” I didn’t know what else to say, and my eyes darted to Greg, feeling the pressure to get back to him.