Page 23 of The Red Zone
Instead of looking like a clown with oversized shoes, she somehow had a way of making them look like a new fashion trend. Man, I hated to admit how good she looked wearing my shoes… and there she was in my head again.
This girl was going to be the death of me, I swear.
EIGHT
OCTOBER
She thinks we should fuck.
I was ashamed at how many times that sentence had slipped through my mind throughout the night. Thankfully, we were almost back to shore and I could hardly wait to get off this cramped boat long enough to clear my head. The constant stream of chatter buzzing through the air was giving me a headache.
Somehow, I got stuck in a painfully boring conversation with a couple of old teammates from high school who I hadn’t seen in years. They reminisced about their glory days of being on varsity football together while exchanging well-rehearsed excuses about which injury prevented them from playing professionally.
It was always the same song and dance with these kinds of guys.
Maybe I was bitter about being stuck on this boat for too long without a place to escape—or maybe it was the fact that I’d been walking around barefoot for hours—but their excuses all seemed a little pathetic and repetitive. A hollow wish for the life they’d wanted to have, but deep down knew they never had the chance of obtaining.
Yet, I still stood there nodding tightly, silently forcing myself to remain in their presence while suppressing reminders that they never had scout visits, let alone a single offer to play college ball.
God, I needed to get out of here before I said something I’d later regret.
Carefully controlling my tone, I excused myself from the group, giving back pats and handshakes before stalking off to the bar area.
“Bar’s closed, sorry.” The black-haired bartender with a pointy nose called over her shoulder with a courteous smile.
Any other time, I would’ve leaned against the bar with a seductive smile while charming chatter spilled from my lips until she inadvertently made me a drink. Any other time, I would’ve left her a nice tip in the jar and scribbled my number onto a cocktail napkin. She’d text me something flirtatious from the back room behind the bar. And inevitably, we’d find some closet or an open bathroom stall to hook-up in. Then, once it was all said and done, I’d never see her again, and she’d have a juicy story to share with her friends over Sunday brunch.
But tonight, the haze clogging my brain wanted nothing to do with that. The reminder of my seasonal celibacy hit me like a wave, and my jaw clenched on instinct. The season hadn’t even started yet, and I was already contemplating breaking my vow.
Shit.This was going to be a long six months.
The cute bartender bent at the hips to pick up a crate of wine bottles from the floor and hoisted it upward. She gave me a closed-mouth smile as she turned and pushed the door to the backroom open with the side of her hip.
Once the door swished shut, I surveyed the remaining bottles behind the bar, settling for the half empty bottle of whiskey. I pulled out my wallet from my back pocket and dished out all the cash I had before plucking the bottle off of the counter. A tip for her troubles in case she got in trouble with her boss for a bottle going missing.
Twisting off the cap, I chucked it in the trash, then headed down the quiet hallway to my left. A circular staircase at the furthest end caught my eye, and I paused in my tracks, turning my head to check my surroundings before trudging up the steps.
As I rounded the last spiral of the stairs, a cool breeze rolled off the water and brushed against my cheeks. I took a long swig from the rim of the bottle as I strolled to the opposite end of the rooftop deck to look out at the water. Sunset had passed a couple hours ago, so there wasn’t much of a view, well, unless you enjoyed staring at seemingly never-ending blackness. Might not have been the most stunning, but it sure was peaceful.
Up here, the chatter from the party was drowned out by the sound of waves crashing against each other. It was serene. Calm. For the first time all night, the haze clouding my mind was beginning to fade away.
I continued staring over the ledge at the dark nothingness, collecting my thoughts for a moment, when the sound of one person’s rich belly laugh carried through the air to my ears. My focus was instantly drawn to the opposite side of the rooftop, which had a glass railing that overlooked the deck beneath it.
With the bottle of Jack pressed to my lips, and the warmth of its contents sliding down the back of my throat, I crossed the space in a few strides until the party goers below came into view.
There she was, doubled over in a fit of laughter with her hand over her heart, cutting up like the guy standing in front of her had just told the funniest joke in the damn world. Mae’s long blonde hair no longer held the same bouncy curls as it did earlier in the evening. Instead, the ringlets framing her face had fallen into waves from the salt filled air.
I poked my tongue lightly into the corner of my cheek and expelled a long breath.
It pissed me off.Shepissed me off.
Seeing her happy, giggling and smiling all night, made my blood pressure sky rocket.
What annoyed me most, though, was the tiny micro-aggressions she sported anytime we inadvertently made eye contact or the way she’d blatantly ignored me if we somehow got caught in the same group chatting.
A few minutes passed of me reigning in my emotions, before another long pull of amber colored liquid slid down my throat and the sound of footsteps making their way up the stairs caught my attention.
Mae stood at the top step running her fingers through her blonde waves, bunching the strands together at the top of her crown, then slipping the hair tie from her wrist and looping it around until her hair was secure. She jerked backward and drew in a breath at the sight of me across the rooftop. “Sorry, you scared me. I didn’t think anyone was up here.”
