He will never forgive me. I need to see him one more time. I need to tell him the truth. He needs to understand what happened. I thought life would be different. I thought I had more time. If only I had more time.
My life can’t end like this.
Chapter 1
The Backroom
Five Months Earlier
“Yes, yes! Oh, that feels good. You’re so fucking hot.”
Having sex in the backroom of Mickey’s bar is always fun and exciting. My body comes alive as my blood roars and my heart pounds, making me feel wanted and cherished, for a moment. The backroom is really Mickey’s office. From up against the wall, I see the black shelves that hold restaurant supplies. One wall has a desk and chair. If Mickey only knew how many times I’ve gotten laid on that desk, he’d be sick. The third wall is completely empty. Lucky for me the guy I brought back here tonight is tall and strong.
He picks me up, and I instantly wrap my long, thin legs around his waist. He pushes my blond curls to the side and feathers kisses along my neck, sending delightful shivers to my core. He pins me up to the wall. Fucking my brains out, he’s scuffing my back, but who the hell cares?
I’m in pure ecstasy when I hear my best friend, Anna, holler from the front of the bar. “Lexi, Mickey just called! He’ll be here in ten minutes. Get your ass out of the backroom and start working. You’re going to get your butt fired and mine, too, for defending you!”
Darn it, I don’t want this feeling to end.
Anna’s a Spanish beauty with glowing skin, straight dark brown hair that hits just above her behind, and her eyes are the most perfect shade of emerald. She’s petite and has the best body ever. We met in undergrad in a first year political science class and hit it off right away. She’s a waitress, and I tend bar. She’s been a little annoyed with the amount of time I’ve been spending in the backroom. It means she has to work harder waitressing and making the drinks. I feel bad about it, but I’ve been down on life lately and sex is the only thing that makes me feel good. When a guy has himself buried in me, I feel cherished, a feeling that I used to have and now crave. The meaningless sex works because I am happy in the moment, but I don’t fear my heart getting shredded to pieces.
“Give me a minute, Anna. I need one minute.”
“Fine, Bandita, I won’t say I told you so.”
That’s all I need. One more minute to climax, which I do.
“That was amazing.”
And this time, I’m not lying. The guy was really good.
“You’re amazing. I’ll call you later,” he says with a huge, sated smile splayed across his face. He’s pulling up his jeans over his muscular legs, looking proud of himself. And he damn well should be. He zips up his pants and runs his hands through his slick brown hair.
As he turns the knob to open the door, I mutter, “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
I really don’t want him calling me later. I don’t even plan on giving him my phone number. He reaches over to give me a kiss, and I accidentally turn my head so he kisses my cheek. He probably doesn’t understand how I can turn so cold after what we just did.
“See ya,” he says, his earlier proud smile falling, replaced with a look of confusion. He should be thankful I’m only after a good fuck and be on his way.
After the guy walks out the door, I straighten out the jean skirt and slutty tank top that Mickey makes us wear and leave the backroom for the bar. I feel bad because the place is now packed, and Anna is behind the bar mixing a martini and pouring three shots of rum like a mad woman.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you for that long. There was barely anyone here when I went back there.”
Anna’s got this knowing look on her face. “No worries. So who was that guy? He’s pretty hot.”
I give her a happy nod. “Yeah, I know, right? He’s in engineering, really smart and handsome.”
Anna’s brow scrunches up. “So why are you fucking him in the backroom at Mickey’s?”
She knows the answer, so I don’t even know why she’s bringing it up. “Why not? The relationship isn’t going anywhere. We’ve been out a couple of times and he’s good in bed. He’s a keeper, for now.”
“I hear you, Bandita, but you know my two night rule. I don’t know how you can spend months with a guy then dump him like that.”
I’m quickly preparing all the drink orders behind the bar. I’m trying to work fast because we have some pissed off customers who’ve been waiting while I was having my backroom tryst. Anna is leaning on the bar, waiting for the orders to be ready. It’s nice that we get to work together like this because sometimes it’s the only chance we have to talk. Unless Mickey’s around and then we keep the girl talk to a minimum.
I turn around and place all of the drinks on Anna’s tray. “You know I only dump them when they get attached. I don’t do attachment.”
Anna throws back her head, laughing. “Phew, I thought you were ready to settle down. I would be lost without you, my friend.”
I wink. “Come on, Anna. I’m only twenty-four years old. I have plenty of time to get soft, if I ever will.” I scoot her away with my hand. If she doesn’t get those drinks to the table soon, our tips tonight will be crap.
Anna walks away from the bar, holding her drink tray with one hand. She’s wearing a pair of tight skinny jeans and the same boob-bearing Mickey’s tank top that I’ve got on. She turns around, her long dark hair flying across her lightly tanned shoulder. “One day, someone is going to knock your socks off, then you’re going to fall hard.” She grins at me and walks away.
She’s probably right, and I’m not going to lie. That thought has crossed my mind, and it terrifies the living daylights out of me. But you would never get me to admit that out loud.
“Don’t be ridiculous! I’m not the falling type. I’ve fallen too much in my life already, and I’ve learned how to stay on track. It works for me.”
I hope that Anna has heard my last words. I will never fall for anyone again. The problem is she got too far away and didn’t hear a thing I said. I feel the need to repeat myself so I do. When Anna walks back up to the bar, I tell her straight up. “You know I’m not the falling type so get any ideas of that ever happening out of your head.”
She nods, but I can tell she doesn’t believe a word. I don’t know if I believe me.
“‘Kay,‘kay, fine. But you realize that screwing guys in the backroom of a bar is just messed up?”
The truth is I don’t even know what’s gotten into her tonight. She screws a different guy every two nights. With irritation scratching my throat, I say, “Whatever. So I don’t like to show guys where I live. It’s my private space, and I like to keep it that way.” Anna waves me off, then walks over to the tables to serve more drinks. She obviously senses my sensitivity to the issue and knows it’s better to be silent sometimes.
Mickey’s is right next to the University of Toronto, where I go to school. A lot of students hang out here in the evenings and start their alcohol-infused nights by picking up their girl or guy of choice. It’s not your typical fancy bar that you’d find downtown. It’s more on the rustic side, made completely out of wood. There are a lot of pool tables at the back, beer signs lit with neon lights hang everywhere, and a ton of tables are scattered around where patrons order some of Mickey’s famous dishes, like a bacon double cheeseburger or curly fries. There’s also a stage, and about once a week Mickey brings in different talent to play live music, mostly rock. Mickey’s is popular, jam-packed every night. Which is good because I need to pay off my student loans.