I grin as I rub my fingertips over the stubble on my chin. My jaw is still tender when I touch it. I step back from the mirror and leave the bathroom, entering the living room where Keets sits on the couch.
“Christ, man, put some fucking clothes on!” Keets shouts, covering his eyes with one hand.
I glance down at myself, belatedly remembering that I’m only wearing a towel.
“Right,” I say, pointing toward the bedroom on the other side of the living room. “I’ll be right back.” I quickly walk behind the couch, holding up the towel with one hand as I push the bedroom door open and flick on the light with the other.
“You know, you’re a real jackass,” Keets calls out from the living room.
“We’ve established that,” I call back, pulling on a pair of faded blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt. I grab my black boots and walk back out into the living room, sitting on the couch opposite Keets as I pull them on and quickly tie up the laces.
“No,” Keets says, watching me. “I mean you’re really a jackass.”
I sigh and sit up straight, looking my friend square in the eyes. “I know,” I stress, crossing my arms. “But what do you want me to do about it?”
“It’s not about what I want,” Keets states with a shrug, getting to his feet and pulling the keys to his truck out of his jeans pocket. “It’s about what Shannon wants.”
“And what does Shannon want?” I ask, surprised to realize I actually care about the answer.
“Well, now, that’s the question of the century,” Keets says with a soft smile. “I don’t think even she knows what she wants.”
“Do you love her?” I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that. I know it’s none of my business. If Keets wanted me to know about his love life, he’d tell me.
He fidgets nervously with his glasses.
“Sorry, man,” I say. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, it’s okay,” he replies, a faraway look on his face. “I think everyone who meets Shannon ends up having feelings for her. She’s such a sweet girl that it’s hard not to love her.”
“Sweet?” I echo with a laugh. “Tell that to the knife she was holding to my throat this morning.”
“I know she seems a bit rough around the edges,” Keets argues. “But you would be, too, if you’d lived her life.”
I’m suddenly very curious, as I’m being given a perfect opportunity to find out more about the strange woman who has my stomach in knots. “What about her life?” I ask, hoping I sound nonchalant.
“Look, Stone,” Keets starts, suddenly sounding as nervous as the time we found ourselves in the middle of a live minefield. “It’s not up to me to tell you about Shannon’s life. If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you herself.”
“What’s going on?” I ask, tilting my head to the side as I look at Keets. What the hell is with this sudden attitude change? “Is she in some sort of trouble?”
“I’ve already said too much,” Keets says, a shutter coming down over his eyes. “And you need to get to the bar. Come on; I’ll drive you.”
Keets leaves the house quickly, leaving me scratching my head.
What the hell is going on?
“You’re here,” Shannon says blandly.
She looks exhausted, and I know it’s all my fault. Her bun has come loose, leaving curly tendrils to stick to her face and neck. Her face is flushed, her eyes lackluster, changed from a pale sky blue to a deep ocean blue-green. She’s beautiful, and she’s pissed. “Yeah,” I say a little sheepishly, hanging my black leather jacket up behind the bar. “Sorry I’m late.” We’re the last two people in the bar.
“Oh, it’s fine,” she snaps, waving a cloth in her hand as she scrubs furiously at the bar. “I was just closing up. You know, after you left me high and dry all fucking night.”
I flinch as she drops the rag and turns to face me, her small hands curled into fists by her side. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Are you always this angry?” I laugh, stacking dirty glasses on a tray, quickly ducking as the rag flies at my head. “What the hell, Shan?”
“I told you, don’t call me Shan!” she hisses, her chest heaving as she glares at me.
“What should I call you then? You keep fucking hissing like a little hellion cat, but you’re as tiny as a kitten, so I doubt you could do any serious damage.” I click my fingers as a proverbial light bulb appears over my head. “I got it,” I crow. “I’ll call you kitten.”
She pales. “Don’t,” she says quietly, her voice low and menacing. I like a challenge, and she’s opened the door to a whole lot of shit-stirring. “What’s the matter, kitten?” I ask mockingly. “Don’t like your new nickname?”
“I said don’t,” she growls, her upper lip curling in disgust.
“I don’t know what you think you’re going to do about it,” I say, realizing I may have pushed her too far. “But the fact of the matter is, I have work to do, and—”
I don’t get to finish that sentence. She flies at me, her arms outstretched. I try to brace myself, but the attack is so unexpected that all I can do is wrap my arms around her and try to protect her from the fall as we both topple to the cold, hard floor. Shannon struggles against me, and I do my best to grab her fists as they pummel my shoulders. “What the fuck?” I yell, finally latching onto her wrists and holding them down as I flip her onto her back. This bitch has gone crazy. I straddle her hips and glare down at her as she breathes heavily, giving a small, occasional struggle as she tries to pull her wrists free. But I have her now, and she’s not going anywhere until I say so. “What the hell is your problem?” I shout, ignoring the tiny fleck of spittle that flies out of my mouth and lands on her cheek.
Shannon glares up at me, her eyes flashing. “Let me go,” she growls, struggling once more to free her wrists. I don’t know what the hell her problem is. Why is she so pissed about a stupid little joke? It doesn’t make any sense. But right now, she’s furious, defiant…and beautiful. How the hell am I meant to calm her down? She continues to fight me, until I do the only thing I can think of.
I kiss her.
I’m not sure if she’s simply taken by surprise, or if the kiss is effective at calming her down, because all of a sudden it seems as though all the fight has left her body. My lips mold to hers, soft, warm, and pliant. It’s meant to be a brief kiss, designed to calm her down, make her stop struggling. But as it continues, I feel the first stirrings of desire. It really has been too long since I’ve been with a woman. I’m not prepared for the feel of her tongue as it runs along my bottom lip. And I’m definitely not prepared for the shock of desire that slams into my body. Groaning, I release her wrists, moving my hands down to grip her hair as I hold her head still. Shannon moans into my mouth, and my cock hardens in my jeans. She feels so good, so right. I think she’s enjoying it, so I’m surprised when she bites down hard on my bottom lip. I yelp as I taste blood, and she follows it up with a swift kick between my legs. I grunt as I roll off her, grabbing my balls. Fuck shrapnel in my leg. This, this, is the worst fucking pain I have ever felt in my life.
Shannon scrambles to her feet and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, glaring down at me. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again, do you understand?” she yells.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I shout, curled up in the foetal position, a hand wedged firmly between my legs. I’m in agony. I’ve seriously misjudged the situation.
“What the hell happened?” Keets gasps as he steps inside the bar and sees us. I can only imagine how this must look.
Shannon seems as though she’s struggling to slow down her breathing, smoothing her hair with one hand. “You need to tell him to keep his fucking hands to himself,” she seethes, pointing at me as I slowly get to my feet, my hand on my balls to make sure she didn’t accidentally kick one up into my asshole. One . . . two. Okay, I think I’m good. Christ, that fucking hurt.