Save Me (7 page)

"Nice to meet you," Jack says, shaking Allie's hand. Her flavor of the night eyes Jack, actually jealous. If Jack was Allie's type, I'd bet neither of us would stand a chance.

"So, you came here looking for my Carly, huh?" Allie starts. I give her a begging look, followed by a threatening look.
Do not continue
.

"I did." He puts his arm around my chair and scoots me closer to him. I can't help but smile at Allie and she gives me another grin.

"What are your plans for her, now that you found her?" She picks up another shot and slams it with a grimace. Her boy toy, who she still hasn't introduced, watches her, apparently content to be ignored so long as he gets to stand next to her.

"I don't have any plans," Jack says simply. "I just wanted to see her."

He brings another smile out of me and I fight to hide it. Allie's eyes tell me she's seen it.

"Well, since you two are over here looking at each other, Sean and I are going to dance." Allie finishes off the last shot, grabs her boy toy by the shirt and without so much as a good-bye, the crowd engulfs them.

"It's a good thing you're not drinking," Jack says. "I'd hate for you to get drunk and fall prey to whatever your friend thinks I’m gonna do to you."

"You'd hate it, huh?" I ask. I take a long drink of the water and look sideways at him.

"Maybe hate was the wrong word," he says, giving me a wink. For someone who looked so uncomfortable in the bar, he looks so at ease here. At ease and a little ornery.

"Then I'll start drinking now. I wouldn't want to make you stop chasing me."

Jack smiles, his dimples appearing to accentuate it. He's so beautiful, so perfect. And he seems to like me.
Just how quickly will I fuck this up?
I wonder.

"I need to go to the restroom," I say. The water has decided it's been in me long enough and the need to pee is suddenly desperate. I grab my purse and stand.

Jack scoots his chair back to make a path for me to pass, but I have to move my ass in front of him to get by. I look down at him with a grin. He returns with a side of smolder. Damn, I want to kiss that mouth.

There's no line at the bathroom, surprisingly, so I pee quickly and wash my hands. My feet want to carry me back to Jack quickly, but that's thrown aside as soon as I leave the bathroom.

"Hey, um, Allie's friend," Sean, at least I think his name was Sean, yells at me over the music. He's holding Allie by the arm and I already know why he's sought me out. I shake my head and get ready for damage control.

"She puked on my fucking shoes," Sean says. I look at his feet and sure enough, he's wearing Allie's vomit. She looks at me apologetically, her eyes barely open.

"Sorry about that," I offer. "I've got her." Sean hands her over like a dirty jacket and walks away staring at his feet. Usually, when this happens, it doesn’t happen for at least another hour or two. I scan the crowd hoping to see Jack. I finally spot him and he sees me. I motion for him.

"Hold on, Allie Cat," I say as she sways a little in my arms. I hate that she gets so shit faced. She had to have been drinking on the dance floor to have gotten here so fast.

Jack makes his way over and eyes Allie's wobbly form. He looks at me and raises his eyebrows.

"Guessing I shouldn't have bought those shots, huh?" he asks, pulling on his coat.

"If you hadn't, someone else would've," I say. "Would you hold on to her and let me go pay our tab?"

Jack leans in close so I can hear and I get to stare into his eyes for a second before he speaks.

"I already took care of it." He smiles at me, those dimples and those lips blessing my eyes.

"Thanks, but you shouldn't have."

"Don't mention it. Here, let me help you get her outside." Jack puts Allie's other arm around his shoulders and hoists her up.

We walk Allie out of the bar and toward my car. Jack supports her while I open the door and try to keep her from falling head first into the seat. She'll probably be fine in an hour and bitching about why I made her leave early.

Jack closes the door and comes around to my side of the car.

"And you ask why I avoid nightclubs," he mutters.

The wind whips up a little and blows my hair around my face. I fight with it before finally taming it behind my ear. Jack watches me, his dark eyes observant and interested. He puts his hands in his coat pockets.

"I should probably get her home," I say.

"Want me to follow you?" Jack offers.

"Nah, we'll be fine. I've done this a time or ten before," I joke. I suppress a shiver as a cold gust of air moves between us.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye, Carly." He takes his hand from his pocket and reaches out for mine. I lay my hand against his fingers and he pulls it to his lips. He plants a soft kiss on the back of my hand. "Thanks for the dance."

I don't even know what to say. Allie and I make fun of things like this, neither of us willing to admit that we'd find it incredibly attractive if a man ever did this to us. She's snoozing from boozing in my car while it happens to me.

"You're very welcome, Jack." I study his face as he peers up at me, cataloguing every aspect of it to my memory. He releases my hand and backs away. I want to call out to him, to tell him I've changed my mind and he can follow me home, but I don't. I open the car door and watch as he climbs inside a beat up silver Chevy. He starts it up, the exhaust idling with a subtle rumble. He drives the truck around to the exit as I climb inside my car.

I watch as his taillights disappear before starting the car. Allie snores a little as I put the car in drive and pull out onto the highway.

"You owe me big time, bitch," I say to her sleeping form. She mumbles a drunken response and I drive to my house, the feeling of Jack's strong arm around my waist and his lips on my hand swimming in my head.

§

Allie sleeps on my couch, but her snores carry through the wall and into my bedroom. I lie there at 3 a.m. and stare at the dark wall.

God, what a screwed up night. I completely ended things with Nick, pressed my body against a perfect stranger and he kissed my hand. Three simple things that when put together, meant a big change deep inside of me. In the darkness, I run my fingers over the skin on the back of my hand. His kiss still lingers there, burned in my skin. I've been branded by him with only a kiss.

I toss and turn, the replay of the dance keeps playing in my head. I wish I would've said something, anything when he told me I'd struck something in him. It had been exactly like that; like a giant gong rang out in the center of me.

My bed is part of this conspiracy to deprive me of sleep and I just can't get comfortable. My phone lights up on the nightstand.

Where are you? Are you home?

I have no desire to talk to Nick, so I ignore it and try to fall asleep, but my phone dings again almost instantly.

Did you go home with that big fucker?

I put it back on the nightstand, determined to ignore him.
Ding, ding.

Fucking answer me, Carly.

I sigh out of frustration and furiously type at him.

Yes, I came home with him and I'm trying to suck his dick, so leave me alone.

There. That should shut him the fuck up. He always tried to get me to give him head, but I almost always refused. For some reason, giving Nick that pleasure made me feel more used than anything else we did. I lie there waiting for the phone to light up again, but it doesn't. I finally fall asleep, images of deep, dark eyes and the sensation of strong, capable hands come to me and I sleep fitfully.

§

Allie manages a hangover as well as she does the liquor that gets her there, so she's whiney and irritable the next morning.

"God, my head. I swear I didn't drink that much, Carls." Her blonde hair is smooshed against her head and lines crisscross her face from the pillowcase she slept on. She looks like complete and total hell.

"Well, you certainly threw up enough," I say, pouring her a big mug of black coffee.

"I think he slipped me something," Allie says. "I feel like I felt the other time I was roofied."

Allie got drunk at a frat party last year and ended up being saved by her old roommate before anyone decided to make her their penis pincushion. She was sick for two days afterward.

"I keep telling you to be more careful. I'm sorry I wasn't watching out for you better than I did." I slide the mug of coffee across the counter to her.

"You were busy," Allie says, her eyes finally opening for longer than a second. She leans her head on one hand and takes a drink of the coffee.

"No excuse," I say. "I got the short straw and I should've taken better care of you."

"Fucking stop," she says. "You did take care of me and you got me home with my ass intact, so I forgive you." She drinks another long drink from the mug and grimaces. “And I feel like shit for cock-blocking you.”

"Doesn't matter much anyway," I say. "It was all for nothing. Jack didn't ask for my number."

There, it's out. That’s what really kept me up half the night. If he was as interested in me as it seemed, why didn't he ask me out? He followed me to the club, forced me to become interested in him, but flaked out at the last minute. Even if he did flake out like a gentleman.

"Maybe he'll come by the bar again," Allie says, her voice is scratchy and heavy. "He was clearly into you, from what I can remember. You can always look him up on Facebook."

He
was
into me; that much I know with absolute certainty, but just how deep that interest goes is another matter. "I don’t even know his last name," I say pointedly.

“
Nick texted me last night,” I say. “He asked if I went home with ‘that big fucker'.”

“
What’d you say?”

“
I told him I was giving Jack a blowjob and needed him to leave me alone.”

Allie’s face perks up and for a second, she’s almost totally alert. “You did
not
say that.”

I can help but grin. “Yes, I did.”

Allie and I snicker over coffee as I try not to wish what I told Nick was true.

§

I drive to Claire's after my shift at Willie’s and I tell her about Jack. She listens as we fold her laundry, happy that I’m talking about someone with interest rather than complaining Nick.

“
He’s so good looking, Claire. And he’s polite, funny, and he’s got some smooth moves on the dance floor.”

“
Well, listen to you. You’ve never talked about someone with so much
umph
,” Claire says, stacking a small mountain of towels into a basket.

“
He was…intriguing,” I say.

“
Well, speaking of intriguing, Mark gave Robert your number.”

“
Who’s Robert?” I ask.

“
Duh, the guy you agreed to go out with? Earth to Carly.” Claire swats me with a wash cloth.