“Oh, man.” Keets laughs. “Don’t tell me he tried to kiss you.”
I look between the two of them as I stand there hunched over, protective hand still on my balls even as my face is contorted in pain. “You’re fucking crazy,” I gasp, looking at Shannon.
“Wow, Shan, you really did a number on the poor guy,” Keets says, smiling as he shakes his head. What the fuck? Is he serious? A brother just got his ass handed to him, and he’s fucking laughing? “Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything to him.”
“Make sure you do,” she snaps as I make my way slowly over to the door, assisted by Keets. The pain is starting to ease, and I straighten up then turn to glare at Shannon. “I don’t know what the fuck’s going on,” I say in a low voice. “But if you wanted to get into my pants, all you had to do was ask.” Am I really making jokes at a time like this? I see her lips purse and I swallow hard, ignoring the pain. Determined not to let her see how much I’m still hurting, I turn my back to Shannon and Keets and walk out of the bar, slamming the door closed behind me.
I sigh and sag back against the bar. Reaching up with one hand, I pull the tie from my hair and run my fingers through the soft curls.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Keets says, flashing me a grin as he walks over to the bar and pulls up a stool. I feel bad, but not enough to apologize. I shake my head. “He was a jerk,” I state, turning away from him and picking up the rag up off the floor.
“He’s a good guy, Shan,” Keets answers, swivelling around on the bar stool to watch me aggressively attack one of the tables with the rag.
“Oh, yeah?” I challenge, not looking up. “Tell that to my lips. He attacked them like some primal beast.” They still tingle from the memory. No, stop it, Shannon.
“So? The man’s had some bad luck. Throw him a fucking bone, Shannon. Your life hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows.”
I sigh and drop the rag on the table. “I know.” I sigh, walking around the bar and into the back office. Taking a seat at the large wooden desk, I glance up as Keets follows me in and sits opposite me with his feet up on the desk, completely silent. I try to ignore him as I pull out the receipts from the day, along with my favorite pen. It’s ridiculously oversized, with a large white feather on top and a white bow appliqué. I’ve often been laughed at for my choice in stationary, but the pen was a gift from my late daddy, and I refuse to use any other. I glance up as Keets lets out a soft chuckle, frowning as the sound annoys me. “Don’t start,” I warn.
“Who, me?” Keets says, trying his hardest to look innocent and failing miserably. “I’m just wondering how many ostriches your father had to go through to get that feather.” I grin as I imagine my burly father chasing down a herd of ostriches, their long legs tangling around themselves as they try to pluck at him. That’s the sort of man Darius Harper was. He’d have given you the shirt off his back if he thought you needed it. He’d certainly think nothing of braving a few large birds to get a feather for his eldest daughter. With my younger sister away at college, it was a surprise to no one that I’d been chosen to take over Saddles. A small ball of paper hits my nose and I jump, startled out of my thoughts. I look over at a grinning Keets and try to frown, pursing my lips together to stop the smile threatening to escape. “Stop it,” I admonish. “I’m still angry at you.”
“No, you’re not,” Keets replies, his grin widening even further. “You couldn’t be angry at me if you tried.”
“Well, I am trying, so either shut up and help me or get the hell out of my office.”
“Pushy, pushy.” He laughs as I shove his feet off the table.
“I mean it, Damien,” I say tiredly, putting my pen down on the desk and rubbing my eyes. “I have a stack of paperwork to do.”
“You just used my first name. Hold up,” Keets says, raising his hands. “We’ve got a badass over here.” He grins, mimicking one of our favorite Facebook memes. “Okay, okay,” he continues, as I open my mouth to yell at him again. “You win. I’ve gotta go and check on Stone, anyway.” My face falls. I’ve calmed down enough to realize what a bitch I was to him. “I guess I overreacted a bit, huh?”
“Just a bit,” Keets states gently. “Don’t worry; I’ll take care of it.” He stands up and walks around the desk, grabbing my hands and pulling me to my feet before wrapping his arms around me. “You deserve a better life,” he whispers into my hair, kissing the top of my head. I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder. He’s my only friend in this fucked-up town. Strong, warm, dependable Keets. I know he’s considered taking our friendship further, but it was never meant to be. Keets is like my older brother, and I know I can always count on him to be there for me. He gently moves away and looks into my eyes. I always feel safe with him, like nothing or no one can hurt me.
“I have to go,” he murmurs, kissing my forehead again before releasing me and walking out of the office. I stay where I am until I hear the front door of the bar close behind him.
Dropping back into my seat, I rake my hands through my hair, pulling it up into a messy bun before propping my head up on one hand and staring out the window. It’s late, and the country sky is full of stars. I never saw that many stars when I lived in the city. Smog polluted the air constantly, but sometimes after Troy had gone to sleep, I’d taken the ice pack and walked up five flights of fire-escape stairs to the top of our apartment building. I’d sit there, nursing my latest bruise, and stare up at the sky, trying desperately to find just one star that reminded me of home. My father was a good man, dealt a terrible fate. He’d been riding the horse he’d bought me for my twelfth birthday. He’d taken it upon himself to ride Lady every day when I moved to the city, and he had such a way with animals. But a pack of hunting dogs had come from nowhere. The spooked horse bolted, throwing Dad from the saddle, and it’d taken just one bite to the throat from one of the dogs to finish the job. He’d never seen it coming.
Since that day, I’ve never been able to get back on my horse.
I sigh and pack away the books before standing and leaving the small office, locking the door carefully behind me. I take a moment to stop and look around the bar. It’s colored in muted tones, with wooden furniture and a deer head mounted on the wall opposite a large dart board. There’s an old mechanical bull in the center of the room that’s still used sometimes. I’d refused to redecorate from Daddy’s original design, and all the staff are under strict instructions to not move anything. I know it probably isn’t the healthiest mentality to have, but as long as the bar remains the same, it’s as though Daddy is still here. Locking up the bar, I bunch my coat up around my ears against the frigid cold as I hurry to my run-down blue Datsun and slide behind the wheel. My teeth chatter, and a small amount of white smoke escapes my lips as I fumble with the keys in the ignition. I drive for some time, lost in my own thoughts.
Stone’s arrival on the scene certainly is an unwelcome distraction, one I can’t afford. What is it about him that irritates me so much? He’s not even that good-looking. His eyes are too brown, his muscles too defined, and ugh, he kisses way too aggressively. I squirm in my seat and adjust the belt as I recall the way his lips burned me. Surely no one could like that . . . Right? Liar, my mind taunts.
Okay, I concede. Maybe he is good-looking… in a rugged, brutish kind of way. And maybe his kiss did leave me breathless, with a none-too-unpleasant tingling. But there is absolutely no way I’m attracted to him.