Page 13 of Love After All


  "Thank you."

  "No problem. Are you sure you're okay? I can get some ice for your wrist."

  "It's fine. I'm fine. And I appreciate you stepping in."

  "I'd still like to go find that punk and beat the shit out of him. What was he thinking? Did you know him?"

  She nodded. "Vaguely. He's a former student."

  Bash's lips curved. "Hot for teacher, huh?"

  She laughed. "I guess so."

  "Can't say as I blame him for that part. But the manhandling part? Absolutely not."

  He picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her wrist, causing flutters of awareness to skitter across her skin. "I need to get back to the bar. If you need anything, you let me know."

  "Okay. Thanks again."

  His gaze met hers, and the heat she saw there nearly melted her to the floor.

  "Anytime."

  Gathering in a deep breath, she made her way back to the table and took her seat.

  "Are you all right, honey?" Emma asked, rubbing her back.

  "Fine now."

  "I can't believe that jerk," Jane said. "I had him for math his freshman year and I'd like to kick his butt. I'm going to talk to his parents."

  "Oh, God, Jane, don't do that. I think he's likely embarrassed enough that Bash threw him out. And Luke and Will followed him. He was likely terrified he was going to be arrested."

  "And he had tears in his eyes, too," Samantha said with a triumphant gleam in her eyes. "That was quite the move Bash put on him."

  "I think Bash has had his share of bar drunks to deal with," Carter said. "He knows how to handle himself."

  "You all helped. Thanks for that," Chelsea said, giving a loving smile to every man there.

  "Too bad we couldn't arrest him. I would have liked to throw him in a cell," Luke said. "Him and all his belligerent friends."

  Will nodded. "Fortunately for them, one of the guys was sober, and he piled them all in the car and promised us he was going to take them all home."

  "Yeah, let's hope they don't end up hitting another bar tonight," Megan said. "What idiots."

  Emma checked her phone. "And it's still early, too. Not even eight thirty. I wonder what time they got started on the drinking today?"

  One of the waitresses set a fresh martini in front of Chelsea. "Bash said these are all on the house for you tonight. Whatever you'd like."

  Chelsea beamed at the waitress. "Thank you."

  The guys went to shoot some pool, so all the women scooted their chairs over.

  "Okay, so let's talk about Bash," Emma said.

  "Clearly the reason you and Dell didn't hit it off."

  Chelsea looked over at Molly. "But I liked Dell."

  "I know you did, Chelsea, but there's something going on between you and Bash. A woman--any woman--would have to be blind not to see it."

  "And none of us are blind," Samantha said.

  Chelsea shook her head. "There's nothing going on with Bash and me."

  "Are you sure about that?" Megan asked. "Because he's tending bar with one eye and has the other firmly fixed on you."

  She didn't want to look. She didn't have to look, because she felt the heat of his gaze like a caress on her skin.

  So, instead, she took a long drink of her martini, which of course had been made perfectly. Just the way she liked it. Dirty, with three olives. He knew what she liked. She'd bet he'd know everything she liked. Dirty or otherwise.

  "Are you all right, Chelsea?" Megan asked. "Because your cheeks are pink."

  Even from across the room the man affected her. It was uncanny and downright annoying. She put her cool hands up to her hot face. "No, I'm fine. It's just a little warm in here."

  "When are you going to stop denying how you feel about Bash and do something about it?" Emma asked.

  She slanted her gaze at her best friend. "He's all wrong for me."

  Emma shrugged. "So? Sometimes all wrong can be oh so right."

  "He meets none of the criteria on my list."

  "But I'd bet he'd be fun in bed."

  Chelsea's eyes widened as she looked at Jane.

  "I said that out loud, didn't I?" Jane asked, then slapped her hands over her mouth.

  Samantha laughed and dragged Jane's hands away from her mouth. "You only said what the rest of us are thinking. So you haven't found your perfect man yet, Chelsea. You keep looking for him, and maybe have some fun with Bash in the meantime?"

  She shifted her focus onto Bash. Fortunately, he was busy filling drink orders, and didn't see that she couldn't help but notice how utterly amazing he looked tonight. He wore a black polo shirt that fit tight against his oh-so-fine chest. A chest she wanted to touch without the shirt being present.

  "Okay, so maybe I might want to get him naked."

  "Finally we're getting to some fun truths," Molly said.

  She downed the contents of her martini, then fished the olives out of the glass and feasted on them while she pondered her options regarding Bash.

  "You're considering it, aren't you?" Emma asked.

  "I might be. He's not a forever kind of guy, or even a dating kind of guy. But a between-the-sheets kind of guy? Yeah, definitely."

  "Now you're talking. If anyone needs to have some fun, Chelsea, it's you," Megan said.

  She took a deep breath and sighed. They were right about that. She couldn't even count the number of first dates she'd been on. Though lately she could--three. With no result. She was so damn tired of ... dating. She wanted something different.

  She wanted a relationship and she wasn't having one, so what was wrong with at least having a good time while she was waiting for the right guy to come along?

  The waitress delivered another martini and Chelsea took a long swallow of it, then played with the stick holding the olives, her attention drawn to Bash, who must have felt those sexual psychic vibes she was throwing out, because he lifted his attention from the bar and leveled his gaze on her.

  She could feel him--his touch--all the way across the room. She didn't have that with anyone else and hadn't felt anything like it in so long. That promise of something sensual, something so spectacular she'd be a fool to pass it up.

  Okay, so ... maybe. She'd think about it.

  She turned her attention to her friends, but Bash stayed in her mind the rest of the night.

  They all had a great time hanging out until well after midnight. And when she got home and changed into her yoga pants and tank top, Bash was still there in her head. So much so that she felt unsettled and jittery and, despite the two martinis she'd had earlier in the night, not at all relaxed and ready for bed.

  Maybe she should have had more to drink. But then Luke or Will would have had to drive her home, and that would have been a logistical nightmare. She liked her independence too much and didn't want to rely on other people. So she'd switched to soda after the two martinis and driven herself home.

  She curled up on the sofa and grabbed the remote, surfing for something that might help relax her. She found a romantic comedy and settled in to watch, hoping a great movie and a cup of tea would wind her down.

  Two hours later, she was well satisfied with the movie, but still not tired.

  "This is stupid," she said to the television, which obviously didn't reply.

  It was too bad she lived in an apartment that didn't allow pets. It would be nice to at least have a cat to talk to. Though she really wanted a dog.

  Even a dog like Lou, who was the cutest little thing Chelsea had ever seen, though she'd always had her mind set on a big dog, like Emma and Luke's dogs.

  Right now, she'd be very happy to have Lou to snuggle up with.

  Or Lou's owner.

  "Okay, enough of this." She picked up her phone. It was two thirty and clearly she wasn't going to sleep tonight. She sent a text message to Bash.

  Are you closing up yet?

  Ten minutes later, he texted back.

  Just finishing up here. Are you okay?

  She
smiled at that and replied.

  I'm fine. Just wide awake for some reason. Are you heading home?

  Yeah. Want me to come over?

  Her stomach did a leap at his suggestion, but this was what she wanted, so she sent the text before she changed her mind.

  You have Lou to deal with. How about I come to your place?

  She rubbed her stomach, feeling ridiculously nervous as she waited for him to reply.

  Sounds good. I'll be home in about twenty minutes. See you there.

  Now she'd made a decision, and she wasn't going to change her mind.

  She laid her phone down and went into her bedroom, put on her clothes, brushed her teeth and hair, and fixed her makeup.

  Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her keys and walked out the door.

  Chapter 19

  Once he got home, Bash took a quick shower, then put on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, not at all sure what Chelsea had in mind.

  Maybe she was still freaked out over her encounter with those assholes in the bar tonight and she didn't want to be at home. He couldn't blame her for that. Some men were jerks. He was still pissed about it, and if it had been anywhere but his bar, he'd have taken it outside and given those young punks a lesson they wouldn't forget.

  But as the bar owner, he bore a certain responsibility, and beating the shit out of customers wasn't something he could get away with, so the only thing he could do was throw them out. He'd make sure they never came back, too.

  Will had told him Jane knew the kid's parents, who were great people. He had an idea a message would be delivered to the parents and that the kid would be in deep trouble. That gave him some satisfaction.

  In the meantime, he'd do whatever it took to ease Chelsea's mind. Women had a right to feel safe no matter where they went and not be subject to harassment by men who thought they had a right to take whatever they wanted. That it had happened in his bar made him feel responsible, and he felt really shitty about it. If the bar hadn't been so crowded he'd have taken her home and sat with her all night. So he was glad she texted.

  He'd just come inside after taking Lou out when the doorbell rang. Lou, who'd taken to barking at the slightest provocation, was proving to be one hell of a tiny guard dog. She wagged her tail and ran to the door in a yapping frenzy.

  "I've got this, Lou. Thanks for the heads-up."

  He opened the door and Chelsea was there, wearing tight jeans, a red Henley, and high heels.

  Jesus. Those heels. They made her legs look miles long.

  Something he should not be thinking about right now, when his intent was to simply be there for her. Not seduce her.

  "Obviously you knew I was here," she said, coming in and then bending down so Lou could check her out. When Lou wagged her tail and licked her hand, Chelsea picked her up and cradled her close.

  "I definitely knew you were here. Now that she's comfortable with me and with the house, she thinks she's fierce."

  "She is fierce, aren't you, honey?" Chelsea followed him into the living room and took a seat on the sofa. Lou settled in on Chelsea's lap.

  "Something to drink?" he asked.

  She shook her head. "No, I'm good right now, but thanks."

  "I'm gonna have a beer."

  "You go right ahead."

  He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and unscrewed the top, then went to sit down next to her.

  She looked okay as he watched her pet Lou, but he knew looks could be deceiving.

  "How are you?" he asked.

  She lifted her head and met his gaze. "I'm fine. Why?"

  "I've been thinking about you all night."

  "You were? Again ... why?"

  "I thought maybe you were upset about that guy who gave you a hard time at the bar."

  "Oh. No. At the time he freaked me out a little, but honestly, I don't think he was dangerous. Just a little drunk and too full of himself. I was intending to shut him down when you came over. Thanks again for doing that."

  "I was really pissed off, Chelsea. I'm sorry about what happened."

  "It's not your fault. You can't take responsibility for every drunken douchebag who hits on a woman."

  "He went beyond hitting on you. He got physical, and I won't accept that from anyone in my bar."

  "It's still not your responsibility to police their behavior. You threw him and his friends out, and I appreciated it. End of story."

  She didn't seem distressed and her voice wasn't shaky, so maybe that wasn't the reason she'd come over. "Okay. I'm glad you're not upset."

  She cocked her head to the side. "You thought I came over because I needed comforting."

  "Yeah. Which I would have been happy to provide."

  Her lips tilted. "Thanks. But I'm tough, Bash."

  "I've never doubted it. But you know, it's okay to lean on someone, too."

  "Is that what you do?"

  He laughed. "I don't need to."

  She twisted to face him. "Why? Because you're a guy?"

  "Something like that."

  "Totally sexist statement, Bash. You think I'm going to crumple when I have a bad day, so I'd need to be held and comforted. But a man would never need that?"

  He had no idea where this conversation was going, but maybe she needed to let off some steam, and he was always up for a good debate. "I'm not the fold-and-crumple type. But yeah, I can see how a man could benefit from having a partner to talk to when he's had a shit day. Who wouldn't?"

  "So who do you go to when you've had a bad day?"

  "My friends. Same as you, right?"

  She leaned back against the sofa. "Yes."

  "Look, neither of us are close with our families. We rely on our friends to be our support systems and always have."

  "Somehow I don't see you calling Carter or Logan to cry on their shoulders when you've had a particularly rough night at the bar."

  His lips curved. "You don't, huh?"

  "No. But men are wired differently. You internalize and work out your issues in other ways."

  "Such as?"

  "I have no idea. Maybe you sweat out your frustrations at the gym. Or do a home-improvement project to get your mind off of what's bothering you."

  He nodded. "That works."

  "Or maybe sex."

  He laughed. "Yeah, that'll work, too."

  "Whereas women tend to want to talk things through. I'll call up one of my girlfriends and rant. Then I'll feel better."

  "You should try sex. Better endorphin rush, and you'll forget all about your problems."

  She stared at him for a few seconds. "You're right. I should try sex."

  Bash didn't know where to go with that statement. "Okay. Got a guy in mind?"

  "As a matter of fact, I do."

  Now it was getting awkward. While he was more than happy to sit and talk with her about what had happened earlier tonight and help her through any issues that might be bothering her, he was going to have to draw the line at her sex life. Just thinking about her being with another guy made him uncomfortable. Though he didn't know why. It shouldn't bother him. She was an adult, and she could have sex with whomever she damn well wanted to.

  Problem was, he'd been spending a lot of time lately thinking about having sex with Chelsea. They'd kissed--more than once. He'd made his intentions clear. She'd backed off--making her intentions clear. But it didn't mean they couldn't be friends. He'd just have to suck it up and deal with it, because that's what friends did.

  "Is there someone you'd like me to set you up with?"

  "No, and I realize I'm not handling this well because I backed away the night of the wedding. I want you, Bash."

  He blinked. "You do."

  "Yes. But not in a relationship kind of way."

  "So you just want sex."

  "Yes. Are you okay with that?"

  He was having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that Chelsea had just propositioned him. It didn't seem to be her style at all. She was after a relationship--the happily-ever-
after kind. But here she was, sitting on his sofa in the middle of the night, asking him for sex.

  "I'm totally okay with it. But we talked about it before and you changed your mind, if you remember."

  "I do. I'm bringing it up again."

  "Okay." This time, he was going to let her carry the conversation without him pushing her on it. Because he wanted her to be sure it's what she wanted. So he waited for her to continue.

  She looked down at her fingernails before meeting his gaze again. "There's this thing between us. I need to get rid of it before I can continue my search for the perfect man."

  He wanted to laugh, but he could tell she was taking this seriously. "Yeah, that thing. Kind of a pain in the ass, huh?"

  "Yes. I figured we should sleep together and eliminate this lurking chemistry, and then I could move on. I hope you don't find that insulting."

  "Nope. Not in the least." He wouldn't mind at all being used by Chelsea. It might help him get rid of the lust he'd been carrying around for her for these past several months, too. Then they could both move on.

  It'd be a win-win for both of them.

  She looked at him, and he didn't think he'd ever seen a more honest expression on her face. "I'll bet you think I'm cold."

  "Honey, I've never thought of you as cold."

  "But I'm here tonight propositioning you about sex. That seems, I don't know, cold, somehow. Doesn't it? You and me having sex for no other reason that to eliminate a lurking passion we feel for each other."

  He needed to communicate to her how much he was in this. Hell, he was getting hard just thinking about being with her. He put his arm over the sofa and leaned in, brushing his hand over her hair. "Trust me, Chelsea. What we have together feels anything but cold to me."

  She inhaled, then let it out. "You're right. And that's the problem. There's an intense heat between us. Very distracting. But in a good way. And also in a bad way."

  His lips curved.

  "I'm not making much sense, am I? See, this is why we have to have sex."

  "Obviously."

  "I need to stop overanalyzing it. So ... we're agreed then? Sex with no strings?"

  He stood and reached for her hand. "It's a deal."

  Chelsea finally exhaled, moved a sleeping Lou to the sofa, then took Bash's hand. The contact of their fingers touching was electrifying.

  What was it about him that got to her like that? A simple touch and her nerve endings were frazzled.

  Tonight was going to take care of that. She was going to finally stop thinking about it, dreaming about it. She was ready.