“There is no air to clear. We’re cool.”
“I like you,” he proclaims, his words slurring a little.
I don’t dignify that with a response, staring straight ahead and sipping from my beer in the hope he’ll get the hint.
He doesn’t.
Leaning in closer, he pins me with a flirtatious look. “I’ve been known to return for repeats when it’s prime pussy. So how about it?”
His leering grin is like acid crawling up my throat. How could I have slept with this jerk? And how are Will, Noah, and Garrick friends with him? They are all decent guys, and Cohen isn’t.
“You’re disgusting. Get away from me. I wouldn’t touch you again if you were the last man standing.” I’m tempted to say more, but I don’t want to start an argument either.
“Sure, you wouldn’t.” His sleazy smirk expands. “You were all over me like a rash, bouncing up and down on my dick like you were riding a bucking bronco.” One hand drops under the table. “Fuck, I’m hard just thinking about it.”
“You make me sick.” How can he claim to be Garrick’s friend and then proposition me?
“Quit lying. You loved every second of it. I hate sluts who enjoy a good dicking and then pretend like they’re above it. News flash, doll. You were so into it you came all over my dick after creaming all over my fingers and my mouth. It’s too late to pretend you’re a stuck-up prissy bitch.” He presses his revolting lips super close to my ear. “I remember every second of our night together, and you fucking loved it.”
“You’re a pig, and I’m glad I have no recollection of that night.” I don’t care if he’s one of Garrick’s best friends. I won’t put up with this misogynistic bullshit. “I was clearly too drunk to make a sound decision, because, trust me, if I’d been sober, I never would have lowered my standards and ended up in bed with you.”
The smirk slips off his mouth, replaced by a cold nasty expression. “Bitch, you’re lucky I loweredmystandards and gave you a turn on my cock. If I’d been sober, I wouldn’t have given you a second glance.” He rakes derisory eyes over my body, and I feel ill that I let this asshole anywhere near me. It’s a lesson in never getting so drunk my judgment is impaired. I hate he has carnal knowledge of me, but at least my brain wiped all memory of that night in what was clearly a protective mechanism.
I am disgusted with myself. I wish I had a time machine so I could return to that night and turn the jackass down.
“Hey, Stevie. I’m doing a bar run, and I need an extra pair of hands.” Noah plants himself in between me and the douche, so Cohen has no choice but to back off.
“I’ll have another beer.” Cohen levels a glare at his friend as a muscle pops in his jaw.
“You’re cut off.” Noah returns the glare and then some.
“Fuck off, Dad.” Cohen slides off the stool, swaying a little. “I’ll get my own beer.” He takes off, and three seconds later, a girl with jet-black hair and bright red lips is tucked under his arm like she’d love to live there.
Poor bitch.
“I’ll help.” I stand, keeping close to Noah’s side as we navigate our way to the bar.
“I know you probably think the worst of Cohen, and I don’t blame you, but he’s not a bad guy when he’s sober. He’s a perfect example of someone who shouldn’t drink. He turns into a raging asshole with alcohol in his veins.”
“That isn’t an excuse, and I honestly don’t know how you can defend him or how any of you can be friends with him.”
Noah claws a hand through his hair, looking contemplative. “Maybe we make too many allowances for him. Maybe we should hold him more accountable.” Hooking his arm around my waist, he steers me away from a group of unruly frat boys. “I hate this place. I’m glad this is Gar’s last night playing here.” He automatically releases his protective hold on me when we are clear of the idiots.
“I’m not fond of it either,” I agree as we stand in line behind two girls waiting to be served at the bar.
“Every time I’ve been here, there’s been a fight,” he adds. “Make sure you stick with one of us at all times.”
“I can handle myself, but I appreciate the gesture.”
After we get our drinks, we return to our table a few minutes after Garrick has finished his set. I’m tempted to slink off home to avoid an awkward conversation, but that would be a shitty thing to do. So, I hang around, biting the edge of one nail as I sink another beer and chat with Noah. Ellen and Will are making out like high schoolers on a first date and Cohen has, thankfully, made himself scarce. If I never had to see that asshole again, I’d die happy.
When Garrick emerges from the side door, he’s immediately deluged as a gaggle of girls swarms around him, shoving and pushing one another as they try to get close to him. Noah guffaws and shakes his head. “Can you imagine what it’d be like if he was a bona fide rock star? He’d have to carry a stick to beat them away.”
Although music is pumping out of speakers now, it’s not as loud as earlier, and it’s a bit easier to speak without shouting. My dry throat thanks whomever lowered the volume. “For sure. He’s magnetic when he’s on a stage. Far too good for small-town bars. It’s a shame he won’t pursue it.”
“Music is a hobby for him. I don’t think Gar will ever stop playing, but he truly doesn’t want the big stage. We’ve talked a lot about it, and he’s very sure about what he wants from life.” Noah clinks his bottle against mine. “Like someone else I hear.”
Garrick chooses that moment to appear at our table, saving me from having to respond. “Hey.” His greeting is for the table, but his eyes lock instantly on mine.
