What I Need
Page 6CJ watches me cross one leg over the other, his brow lifting appreciatively.
“Good to know I didn’t fuck up my chances,” he murmurs.
I blink.
His chances? What chances? Wait. Is he talking about . . .
CJ chuckles, picks up his beer and takes a pull of it.
Good idea. I need more alcohol. I’m officially going nuts over here.
Clearing my throat, I sit forward and gesture at the glass he’s still holding captive. “So, back to my drink. What’s the deal? Are you monitoring how much alcohol I consume?”
CJ licks the beer off his lips and sets his bottle down. “Not yet. I think you can have a couple more before I need to keep my eye on you.”
“And what are you doing right now exactly?”
He grins, admitting, “Trying not to keep my eye on you.”
“Well, you suck at it,” I tell him, smiling when he throws his head back with a laugh.
Oh, that's a really nice sound.
“Answer my question first?”
“Depends on what it is.”
He narrows his stare and studies me for a moment while forcing a serious face, which is the exact opposite of what I’m doing.
I’m trying to contain a smile that’s threatening to crack my cheeks wide open.
It’s the tequila.
Honest. It has absolutely nothing to do with his easy charm.
CJ smirks, finally cracking. “Why were you pitching a shit fit with your brother? What was that about?”
I roll my eyes, losing most of my smile. “That's easy. He fired my boyfriend last week and forbid him to come with me to this. He was just being mean about it.” I shrug, adding, “I thought it was rude, so I got rude back.”
“You thought it was rude he fired him?”
“No, I thought it was rude he wouldn’t let him come with me this weekend,” I clarify. “I’m sure Reed had reason to fire him. He wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t. I know that. It’s just . . . I think he could’ve still allowed me to bring him. Don’t you think?”
CJ stares at me for a second, thinking on this, then shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry, darlin’. I’m siding with your brother on this one.”
“Maybe not. Still. It’s his wedding. If Reed doesn’t want someone at it he has that right. Can’t fault him for feeling that way.” He leans closer to add, “Plus, it’s better for me your guy’s not here. I get a pretty girl to talk to all night and I get her without some asshole giving me shit about it.”
I blink up at him, watching CJ slowly straighten up and resume leaning against the bar.
“You think I’m pretty?” I ask.
He stares at me, brow tightening. “Are you serious?”
I nod through a hard swallow. Memories of my evening before arriving here press like a heavy weight on my chest. “He called me a bitch tonight.”
“Who did?”
“Richard. My now ex-boyfriend,” I answer, looking down at my fingers twisting together in my lap. “He . . . we were fighting about the wedding. The past week, that’s all we’ve been doing. He didn’t think I should go and I didn’t think he should put me in a position to make a choice like that. Then he called me a bitch.” I shake my head, voice lowering when I continue. “I’ve never been called that before. Not by anyone. It felt like he slapped me, you know? It was like he hated me. I could see it in his eyes.” I look back up at CJ. “I was just trying to explain to him why I had to be here. I wanted him to understand. And if I’d been acting like a bitch at all, I might’ve let it slide, maybe, I don’t know, but I wasn’t. So I didn’t let it slide. I got mad and I ended it. I won’t be talked to like that.”
“That’s good, babe,” CJ says. “You shouldn’t let any man talk to you like that. And his ass was in the wrong anyway. He shouldn’t be making shit hard on you and expecting you to choose between him or your family. That’s fucked up.”
Tension pulls from my shoulders.
Finally! Someone other than myself agrees with me.
“Thank you. That’s exactly what I thought.”
I feel my mouth twitch.
CJ smiles at me, chuckles, then grips the back of his neck briefly before dropping his arm and shaking his head. “Shit. I really ran into you?”
I laugh, nodding. “Yep.”
“Fuck.” He takes another pull of his beer.
As I watch his gaze move and fixate on a spot behind the bar, I remember CJ asking me if I was serious about wanting to know if he thought I was pretty, and further remember that I never finished pressing for confirmation on his earlier statement.
Confirmation would be super right now. I’d really like to know . . .
“So, yeah,” I continue on a heavy sigh as I untangle my fingers only to tangle them together again.
I cannot believe I am doing this.
“After the night I had, or really, the last week, I’m serious. If it’s true, it’d be nice to hear right about now. I couldn’t tell you the last compliment I got.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">