Page 21 of Love Off Course

I grin at Sheridan and lean in. “Seaman? You’re a seaman lover?”

The ice that seems permanently formed around Sheridan’s being suddenly cracks. I notice the exact moment she realizes her error.

“Oh my…” she trails off, her neck blazing crimson. “I meant…well, I meant exactly what I said, but you children can’t behave!”

“We are behaving,” I argue with a laugh. “You’re the one telling us how much you love seamen.”

“I mean a man with a boat, you idiot,” she hisses, but her brown eyes are alight with amusement.

“I’m a man with many boats who also loves semen,” Damian crows as he prances up to us and plops down in my lap. He waggles his sculpted brows at me. “Oh, honey, is that an anchor in your pocket or are you happy to see?—”

I playfully push him out of my lap. “Apparently, ourabejitahere loves seamen, not semen.”

“You’re a lesbian?” Damian asks, his face totally serious. “That explains a lot.”

“Wait,” Carson interjects. “Explains what? How does that explain anything?”

“I’m not a lesbian,” Sheridan grumbles.

Carson scratches his head. “I’m still wondering what makes you think Sherrie is into chicks. I mean, I know I didn’t misread the way she checks out my boy?—”

“I most certainly do not check out your boy,” Sheridan huffs. “And it’s Sheridan, not Sherrie.”

“Sherrie-dan was not looking at the handsome pilot’s glorious abs,” Estefania chimes in, coming to her rescue, miffed on her behalf.

“Glorious abs, huh?” I ask, flashing Sheridan a crooked smile.

She rolls her eyes and sips her tequila. “Nothing I haven’t seen before and certainly nothing special. And I’ve seen a lot of abs because I like boys and not girls.”

“Girl, same,” Damian cheers out, holding his hand out for a high-five. “Even if you are a female Autobot?—”

“What’s an Autobot?” Lawton asks, joining the growing fray of crazies.

“Metal robot. Basically a good guy, but kind of scary and hella tough,” Damian explains. “You ever seenTransformers?”

When Lawton says he hasn’t seenTransformers, Damian squeals and launches into a detailed explanation of his “favorite movies ever.” Kyle tattles and whispers that his favorite movie ever isMoulin Rouge, but no one calls Damian out. I’m chuckling as they drag another table over.

“I’m a good guy?” Sheridan mutters, her brows knitting together in confusion.

My smile is wiped from my face as I stare at her. For one brief second, her wall is down. She’s not sad or pissed. She’s lost. In unfamiliar territory. Desperately needing a lifeline.

I poke the proverbial bear to remind her she has claws.

The girl needs to be fierce in order to survive the world she’s created for herself.

“A good guy with good lips.” I smirk at her as I rake my gaze down her front. “And good tit?—”

She tosses her drink at me. As soon as the tequila hits my eyes, I howl. Fuck. It burns. Holy shit. I totally deserved that, but still.

“Oh my God,” Sheridan cries out. “I forgot this wasn’t Sprite.”

My eyes are watering, and I can’t see, so I rub at them. Delicate hands grip my wrists. Everyone is laughing or talking over each other. It’s chaos and I can’t even see.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Sheridan hisses, pulling me up and out of my chair. “Come on.”

Blindly, I follow my abuser to my death. Or the bathroom at Eddie’s, which may as well be death with how stifling hot and cramped it is inside. Like a hot coffin in hell.

“Lean over so we can rinse your eyes out,” she sasses.

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