Wasted Read online

  “I’m good.” He never opened his eyes, but a slight wave of his hand seemed to motion to me that I could leave. My eyes turned back to the photo, and letting my curiosity outweigh my discretion, I walked over and picked it up. A beautiful girl looked at me, her smile wide and her mouth slightly parted as if she were laughing. Mason hugged her to him, his profile facing the camera as he gazed at her.

  Realizing I was invading his privacy, I quickly put the photo down and walked toward the bedroom door.

  “Lexi?”

  I didn’t know whether I was more surprised that he said my name or that he actually remembered it. I turned back to him. “Yes?”

  He opened his eyes and smiled, a flash of dimples in his cheeks. “You remember how to make a Devil’s Handshake?”

  I hoped he wasn’t about to order one. I didn’t know how much he had drunk while he was out, but the last thing he needed was more alcohol. “I think so.”

  “Good. Tomorrow, you can look forward to a Sloe Comfortable Screw.”

  I assumed that was the name of another drink. As I watched the roguish grin spread across his handsome face, I realized that I’d shaken hands with the devil today, but it had nothing to do with an alcoholic beverage.

  Chapter 3

  Sloe Comfortable Screw

  Mason

  I heard men’s voices in the hallway. What the hell?

  Lifting my head so that I could hone in on what was being said, I groaned when I realized I had a hell of a hangover. My feet dangled off the side of the bed, and I was still fully clothed. Little snippets of last night’s events flitted through my head.

  Why did I remember Lexi’s pouty lips mere inches from mine? Shit. I fell in the hallway and pulled her down with me. Not the best way to break in a new roommate.

  The men’s voices were louder. Did she have company over, or were some of my friends here?

  I glanced at the time on my cell phone. Ten-thirty in the morning. Definitely not my friends. They would either still be unconscious or know there was no way in hell I’d be up that early.

  After kicking off my shoes, I crawled up in the bed, laying my head on a pillow and maneuvering my feet under the covers. I grabbed the comforter and yanked it over my head in an effort to block out the noise and the sunlight that was filtering through the blinds. For the millionth time, I thought about getting blackout curtains.

  I closed my eyes and drifted back into the land of the dead and the seriously hung over.

  ***

  It was almost noon when I woke again. I pulled the covers off my head and squinted against the sunlight. My head pounded. In an effort to get some relief, I took a hot shower, letting the steaming water beat against my back as I washed my hair. While I slowly came back around to a more acceptable level of consciousness, I blow-dried my hair and pulled on a pair of jeans. In desperate need of aspirin, I moseyed to the kitchen and downed a couple with a glass of water.

  “Been spending your morning bowing over a porcelain bowl?”

  “Lucky for me, I’m not much of a vomiter.” I refilled my glass with water and downed it. “How about you?” I set my glass in the sink and turned to face Lexi. She sat at the bar, her hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her dark eyes watching me.

  “Only when I have a stomach virus.”

  “Sorry about last night. I’m usually in bed before I lose my ability to stand. I’ll try to be a better roommate.”

  “Apology accepted.” She slid off the bar stool. “You should come see my new bedroom suite.”

  I pushed myself off the counter and followed her to her room. She lifted her hand in the air, motioning to her furniture like it was a prize on a game show. Trying to ignore the throbbing behind my eyes, I grinned at the image and ran my palm along the footboard. “I could’ve saved you money.”

  “Why? You know the owner of the furniture store?”

  “No, but I would’ve shared my bed with you.”

  Her lips thinned, and I wasn’t sure whether she was thinking about my offer or I had offended her. “Relax,” I whispered, pretty sure she was pissed. “I’s just messing with ya.”

  “Do you always offer to share your bed with your roommates?”

  “No, but then my roommates aren’t usually sexy women.”

  “Well, I’ll save you some trouble. I don’t do flings.”

  I couldn’t help my eruption of laughter. She was so damn sexy and so damn prim.

  She cocked her eyebrows at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. You’re just…you sure you want to be a bartender? You know buzzed guys will be trying to get in your panties, don’t you?”

  “You know it’ll do them no good, don’t you?”

  I laughed harder. “It’s going to be interesting to see what kind of tips you make.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “No reason,” I answered, amused. “Let’s call a truce. I’ll never try to get you in my bed again. Deal?” I held out my hand.

  She shook it somewhat reluctantly. “Deal.”

  “Of course, I never said anything about your bed.” She smacked me in the arm, and I held my hands up in surrender. “Kidding.”

  ***

  The drink special of the day was Sloe Comfortable Screw. Since I hadn’t driven my car home the previous evening, I’d ridden to work with Lexi. Before our shift officially started, I’d shown her how to make one at our apartment, and like we’d done previously, we split it.

  I helped her make a few for our customers until I was sure she’d gotten the hang of it. Then, I turned her loose, letting her take care of making the daily special, along with her other duties.

  Hawk came in to grab a beer after his shift at the fire hall, along with another guy we’d both gone to school with. I tossed coasters in their direction and pointed at them. “Guys, be with you in a sec.”

  After catching up on a few drinks for the servers, I walked back over to them. “Hawk, the usual?”

  “Yep.”

  “How ‘bout you, Cade?”

  “I’ll have the same.”

  I grabbed two beers, twisted the tops off, and set them down on the coasters.

  “Have you met Lexi yet?” I asked Cade.

  He shook his head and took a swig of beer.

  I turned around and spotted her rinsing glasses. “Lexi, come here for a sec.”

  She finished what she was doing and walked over to me, looking at me expectantly.

  “You remember Hawk?”

  She nodded, smiling broadly. “Hawk, the guy who saved your butt from the explosive grease fire, right?”

  The corners of my mouth twitched into a half-smile. “Yeah, something like that.” I pointed to the mass of muscles beside him. “This is Cade Mayfield. He owns the gym here in town, along with his brothers.”

  Lexi held her hand out. “Nice to meet you, Cade.”

  “The pleasure is all mine.” He shook her hand, and I didn’t miss his eyes raking her over.

  “We all went to high school together,” I said.

  “So was Mason as much of a troublemaker then as he is now?” she asked, turning to look at me as if she already knew the answer.

  “Hell, yeah.” Cade nodded vehemently.

  I threw a bottle cap at him. “The word of the day is discretion.”

  Cade barked out a laugh. “Has Hawk told you what Mason did to Mrs. Parker?”

  “Discretion,” I repeated as I walked away to see what a server needed.

  Hawk and Cade’s laughter followed me to the opposite side of the bar, and I knew Lexi’s impression of me wasn’t likely to get any better after they finished filling her ear with stories from my past.

  “What do you need, Stormy?” I asked the server who was tapping her fingers on the bar as she waited impatiently. A dark braid hung in front of either shoulder, and she peered at me through a pair of black-framed glasses.

  “Two Apple Martinis.”


  I made them as quickly as I could, not only because it was a busy Saturday night, but also because I wanted to get back to the conversation. I placed the two martinis on her tray. “There you go, love.”

  Lexi was giggling like a schoolgirl when I walked back over, and I had to admit that I was a little jealous that they were doing such a great job of entertaining her. To make matters worse, it was probably at my expense.

  “You slept with your teacher?” She gaped at me as I approached.

  “After I graduated,” I clarified.

  “Still…that’s just…wrong.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

  “Well, in his defense,” Cade said, “she was kinda pretty.”

  I snorted. “Kinda pretty? She was freaking hot.”

  “Oh,” Lexi interrupted. “Then that makes it perfectly okay. Yeah, not weird at all.”

  “Hey, if they’d gotten the chance, they would’ve done it, too.” I motioned toward Hawk and Cade.

  “Whoa!” Hawk held his hands up. “Leave me out of your debauchery.” He addressed Lexi. “Believe it or not, some of us are gentlemen.”

  Judging by the look on her face, she was buying it. Unfortunately, he wasn’t bullshitting her, and as much as I wanted to destroy his credibility, I couldn’t. Hawk was one of those eternally good guys.

  “Great. She’ll call you when she wants to take someone home to meet Momma. When she wants to have fun, she’ll call me.”

  Lexi turned those dark, expressive eyes on me. “So you’re not the kind of guy a girl could take home to Momma?”

  I opened my mouth to respond. Realizing I hadn’t been introduced to a girl’s parents in a very long time, I snapped my mouth shut. Apparently not.

  “That’s pretty much what I figured. I wouldn’t brag about that if I were you.” Lexi pushed herself off the counter and went back to work.

  “How ‘bout helping a guy out?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at Hawk and Cade.

  They both smirked.

  “Why do you care what she thinks?” Cade asked. He drained the last of his beer.

  Good question. Why did I care?

  I didn’t dwell on the answer. “Y’all want another beer?”

  “One more,” Hawk said.

  “Me, too.” Cade agreed.

  I brought them each another beer and busied myself with the customers.

  But the question kept nagging at the back of my mind.

  Why did I care what Lexi thought?

  To prove to myself that I didn’t, I caught a ride home with one of my regulars—a pretty little thing with a penchant for hot sex.

  Chapter 4

  Naked Lady

  Lexi

  I woke up early, which was surprising considering Mason and his company had kept me up with all of their moaning and giggling. I’d wound up putting in my earbuds and listening to music so that I could fall asleep without feeling like I was eavesdropping.

  Changing into a pair of blue jean shorts and a tank top, I strolled down the hall with the intention of heading to the kitchen and fixing a bowl of oatmeal. I heard someone bustling around in the cabinets, and I wondered if Mason was cooking breakfast for his guest.

  Considering this was only our third day as roommates and the first time he’d had an overnight guest, I’d already deemed our impending conversation a little awkward.

  As I reached the end of the hall and rounded the corner toward the kitchen, I froze. Mason wasn’t in the kitchen, but his stark naked girlfriend was, along with the colorful butterfly tattooed on her right butt cheek. Overwhelmed by shock, I gaped. Thankfully, I gathered enough wits to flee the scene before she turned around, and I returned to my bedroom with my hunger intact.

  I sat on the edge of my bed, unwanted images scorching my brain. When my cell phone rang, I was relieved to have a distraction. It was Lisa from the apartment complex, and she let me know that I’d been approved. Considering my current living arrangements, it was a huge relief.

  A couple of hours later, I heard movement outside my door, which I hoped meant they were leaving. Checking in the mirror to see if my face was still red from witnessing the naked lady’s backside, I took a deep breath and left my bedroom. The first thing I noticed was Mason’s partially opened door.

  Tiptoeing down the hall, I peeked around the corner, the image of the naked lady in the kitchen burned into my retinas.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  I jumped, Mason’s loud voice nearly scaring me half to death as it carried over my shoulder.

  I clasped my palm to my chest and turned around, my mouth going dry when I realized that I was staring at his bare chest.

  “You startled me,” I gasped in a breathy voice.

  “Why are you sneaking around?”

  I stared at the movement of his muscles as he crossed his arms over his chest, his amber eyes studying my face. “I’m not sneaking.”

  He grunted a sound of disbelief.

  “I’m not! I was just trying to make sure the coast was clear because I have no desire to see butterfly butt running naked around our apartment again.”

  A lopsided grin woke up one of his dimples. “You’ve got to admit that it’s a nice tattoo.”

  I groaned. “You’re missing the point.”

  “Which is?”

  “I live here, too, now, remember?”

  Was he staring at my lips? Heat crawled up my neck, and he took a step closer. “It’s kind of hard to forget,” he whispered.

  My heart pounded. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. By all means, if you want to spend your life chasing meaningless relationships, that’s your prerogative. All I’m asking is that you keep the naked ladies in your room.”

  “You want me to fix you a drink? If you bow up any tighter, your spine’s going to crack.” He walked past me, his jeans low on his hips. He opened the refrigerator door and gazed at its contents before pulling out a carton of orange juice.

  “N-no,” I stammered. “I don’t want a drink.”

  “A little tequila might do wonders for your prudery.”

  Fury flooded my body. “I’m not a prude. I just don’t want to stare at naked ladies while I’m making oatmeal.”

  He poured some orange juice in a glass and added a splash of liquor. “Point taken. Prudes wouldn’t stare at naked ladies. They would look the other way.”

  I felt my face turn red. I tried to think of something clever to say to put him in his place, but I failed miserably. I pointed at him as he turned and leaned against the counter, sipping his drink. “There’s something seriously wrong with you.” I spun around and marched down the hall.

  “Don’t be mad,” he called. “I’s just messing with ya. I promise the only naked lady allowed in the kitchen will be you.”

  I stepped into the safe haven of my bedroom and closed the door a little harder than necessary, hoping that he had some idea of what a jerk he was.

  Holing myself up in my room, I grabbed the book that I’d bought at a drugstore on my way home from work the previous evening and began to read. And it might have actually taken my mind off the fiasco of the morning, except I couldn’t get Mason out of my head.

  A soft knock sounded on my door.

  “Come on, Lex. I’m sorry.”

  I pulled the door open wide. I wanted to be angry, but he stood there with his lovable grin, dimples shining. How did his mother ever discipline him as a child?

  He was freshly showered, although he still hadn’t found his shirt. I wondered if that had been intentional on his part. My eyes dropped to his V lines as they disappeared into his jeans, and I silently scolded myself, jerking my eyes back to his face.

  He rubbed his bare chest. “Come on,” he drawled. “We’re both off today, so how about we make today Official Bond-with-your-Roommate Day?”

  I stood silently, a little surprised by his gesture.

  “I would’ve cooked you a nice lunch, but I don’t have Hawk here to put out the fire. And I don’t have ma
ny groceries.” His grin widened. “So I made you a sammich,” he said, lowering his voice and stringing all the words together.

  “A sammich, huh?”

  “Best sammich you’ll ever eat.”

  I could feel the corners of my mouth tilting upward despite my attempt to make this hard for him. “Fine. I am hungry since I never made my oatmeal this morning.”

  Trailing behind him as he strode back to the kitchen, my eyes roamed his body from his wide shoulders to his tapered waist at the edge of his jeans. I felt guilty ogling him, so I tried to concentrate on his silky hair that just covered the nape of his neck. Having the overwhelming urge to run my fingers through it, I dropped my eyes to his pant legs, but not before I spotted his fine ass.

  I groaned. Living with him was going to be harder than I’d anticipated and not for the same reasons.

  He turned and looked at me. “You okay?”

  Did I just do that out loud? I started clearing my throat. “Yeah, just got a tickle.”

  When we reached the bar, he pulled my stool out for me. “Have a seat, my lady.” He dropped into a deep bow.

  “Wow, the royal treatment.” My sandwich, piled high with ham and lettuce, was already waiting for me.

  “I live to serve.” He walked around to the kitchen side of the bar. “What do you want to drink?”

  “Orange juice is fine.” He pulled out two glasses and poured the juice. “You want a shot of liquor?”

  “No, thanks.”

  He set the glasses on the bar. “That’s right. You’re the bartender who doesn’t drink.”

  I had no intentions of being a bartender, but I didn’t correct him.