Page 3 of Eye of the Hurricane
“You know I don’t really get drunk. I just needed to get out for one night before I really hammer down to make sure I get this job,” I explain, while I slide myself onto the bar stool next to hers.
“Sooo… what I’m hearing is I’m getting shit-faced,” she pauses, pointing slyly to herself with her omnipresent manicure. “And you’re sipping on fancy rich girl cocktails all night?” She finishes her question by turning her pointer finger towards me while tilting her head and flashing me her million-dollar smile.
I roll my eyes but nod. She’s not wrong, but I could have gone without the rich girl comment.
“Yes. You’re getting drunk and I’m sipping on rich girl cocktails all night,” I confirm with a laugh.
“Marcoooo!” Luna calls out loudly, slamming her hand on the little service bell over and over again. If we didn’t put so much money in his pockets, he’d probably kill us or at least ban us.
“Oh no, not Thing One and Thing Two,” he does a fake drag of his feet, walking over to us. “Milkshakes and loaded nachos?”
Usually, if Luna and I come here during the week it’s for dinner, not drinks. So I can’t blame him for assuming.
“Not this time. Kat had a rough day, she needs one of those fancy little drinks. I’m here for moral support, so give me a double shot of… I don’t know. Pick something and pour,” Luna says with a shrug. I just shake my head.
“It’s a Thursday, Thing Two. Let’s try to keep it tame,” Marco says with a laugh. Luna presses a hand to her chest in mock offense, dropping it and winking at him as he slides a glass of what looks to be whiskey over to her.
Marco turns to regard me after rolling his eyes at Luna’s theatrics. “What’s your poison tonight, Katherine?”
“Dirty martini. Extra dirty, Grey Goose.”
“That bad, huh?” He laughs.
“I really like dirty martinis, asshole,” I joke. “Besides, it’s not all bad, just stressful.”
He raises an eyebrow at me before nodding in understanding.I’ve definitely got some explaining to do later.He turns around to prepare my drink and slides the glass over to me when he’s done. I sigh deeply as I pull the glass closer to pluck the olives out, popping one into my mouth.
One thingyou should know about me is that espresso martinis are my kryptonite. After my dirty martini, I decided to make the switch over to espresso martinis.Thatwasa mistake. My first, but not my only of the night.
I know that’s true when I’m watching my hand knock on the front door of Ares Dawkins’ house. Ares Dawkins, who happens to be the most annoying and infuriatingly handsome man I’ve come across in my twenty-four years.
We met three years ago during my sophomore year of college. It started with him relentlessly trying to hit on me. Once I got it through his head that I had a plan I refused todeviate from, we kind of became friends. Sorta? Kinda. Frenemies, if you will.
The door swings open and it’s his mother, Allison. She answers with an incredibly welcoming look on her face. I’ve met her one other time, on the Fourth of July.
“Hi, sweetheart. Ares didn’t mention you were stopping by,” she says. I put on my best mask to appear sober. But after my run-in with the espresso martinis, I’m far from it.
“I was just in the neighborhood,” I lie. “He didn’t know I was coming.”
She steps to the side, making room for me to walk passed her. “He’s up in his room, second room on the left if you don’t know.”
I nod, acknowledging her. “Thank you,” I reply before making my way through the living room and up the stairs. The Dawkins’ home is beautiful and spacious, done mostly in white and light shades of gray. I climb the stairs wearily, careful in my heels to not trip. Upstairs, Ares’ bedroom door is latched so I knock. On the other side of the door, I hear an annoyed groan.
“Come in!” he calls out. I turn the knob and open the door.
When I walk in, he’s laid back on his bed in nothing but his boxers. I fight to drag my eyes away from his perfectly chiseled body but fail miserably.I’m so blaming this on the martinis.
“Kat? What are you doing here?” Ares asks, popping up to a sitting position. Time passes with me still staring at him in silence. He cocks his head with that wicked smile of his creeping up and I’m only vaguely aware that I’m gawking.Now would be a good time to stop looking at his body. I do not gawk. Clearly, I shouldn’t drink with Luna.
“Eyes up here, Kitty Kat.” There’s infinitely more amusement in his tone now. I finally find it in myself to drag my eyes to his.
“I was in the neighborhood,” I lie again. The difference between him and his mother is he calls me out on it. Ares laughs at me.
“Neighborhood? We live on a beachfront property.”Right, duh.
I stare at him for a second, running through my ways around this before giving in, fully caught up.
“Okay, fine. I was out with Luna and got dropped off here because I wanted to see you,” I admit. I start to feel unsteady on my feet and scan the room for a place to sit. A papasan chair in the corner catches my eye. “Can I sit here?” I ask, walking over to the chair. He pinches his brows together in confusion but nods.
