One Night of Trouble

  “No, I’m glad you did. Now I’m going to work even harder, until he has no choice but to admit that I’m the best person for the—”

  A loud ding interrupted her. She swung her head in the direction of the door—then froze.

  Brett’s jaw fell open as her ex-boyfriend entered the tattoo parlor.

  What. The. Hell.

  “Hey,” Troy said cautiously.

  All she could do was gape at him. Holy shit. He really had the nerve to waltz in here after everything he’d put her through? The mere sight of him made Brett want to clock him.

  And to add insult to injury, the bastard actually looked good. Like, really, really good. A black T-shirt hugged his chest and showed off the intricate tattoos on each of his biceps, and he’d cut his hair and shaved his goatee since she’d last seen him. Goddamn him. He didn’t deserve to be this handsome.

  Brett still remembered the way he’d drawn her in last year with those killer dimples and reckless personality. But he’d been too reckless. Troy had no off button when it came to partying. For him, one beer was never enough—he had to have ten. Not only that, but he was a frickin’ sponge. He took and took and took and never once gave anything in return. Whether it was a dinner she’d prepared for him, a free tattoo she’d spotted him, or a ride home when he was too plastered to drive, the jerk had never expressed an ounce of gratitude or appreciation. Not even once.

  “What are you doing here?” Brett demanded when she finally found her voice.

  Troy came to the counter as if he were approaching a feral lion. “Can we talk in private?” His blue-eyed gaze darted to Rob, whose expression was frigid enough to freeze the Pacific.

  Shit. Brett suddenly remembered that Rob had been with her the morning after her trip to the drunk tank. He’d played the part of bodyguard when Troy came over to pick up some things he’d left at her apartment, and the confrontation between the two men hadn’t been pretty, to say the least.

  “No, we can’t,” she said coldly. “What do you want, Troy?”

  “You’re really going to make me do this in front of him?” he demanded in a plaintive voice.

  “Do what? There’s no reason for you to be here.” She crossed her arms, mostly so she wouldn’t act on the urge to smack him in the face. “In fact, I’d like you to leave.”

  “I miss you,” Troy mumbled.

  Rob snorted.

  “I do,” he insisted. “I miss you so much. These past six months without you have been pure torture, baby.”

  “Don’t you dare call me that! And forgive me if I don’t believe a word you say.”

  His expression took on a pleading light. “I mean it. You’re all I can think about.”

  “Wow. Really? Did you also think about me when you cheated on me?”

  “I…” His Adam’s apple twitched as he swallowed. “I already apologized for that. I was drunk, okay? I didn’t know—”

  “What you were doing?” she finished. “Yeah, I’m sure you were totally incapacitated when you unzipped your pants and stuck it in some other girl.” She planted both palms on the countertop, needing to ground herself, fighting the increasing urge to hit him.

  She’d found out about the cheating after they’d broken up, and the knowledge was as humiliating now as it had been then.

  And having her big brother hear how she’d been played for a fool only intensified the embarrassment scorching her cheeks.

  “You need to go,” she muttered. “We’re not together anymore. I don’t want you in my life.”

  “Brett, please—”

  Rob cut in with a death glare. “You heard my sister, asswipe. Get lost.”

  Silence crashed over the room. Her ex-boyfriend looked from her to Rob, then down at his feet. Several seconds ticked by before he spoke again.

  “I’m not drinking anymore, Brett. I cleaned up my act, went to rehab, got my shit together. I just want another chance to prove to you that I’m the man you fell in love with.”

  “Not interested,” she retorted.

  Unhappiness clouded his face. “If you change your mind—”

  “I won’t.”

  “You can reach me at the shop. I don’t have my cell anymore.”

  Yeah, because he never paid his damn bills.

  “I’m working on getting a new one, though,” he said hastily, as if reading her mind. “Please. Just give me another chance.”

  Brett didn’t answer. Simply cocked her head at the door and transmitted a silent get the hell out.

  “I’ll be waiting for your call,” Troy said sadly, edging away from the counter.

  “Then you’ll be waiting a long time,” Rob told his retreating frame.

  A moment later, Troy was gone.

  Far too mortified and ashamed to meet her brother’s eyes, Brett inhaled a ragged breath and picked up her sketchbook with trembling fingers. “I need to finish this drawing,” she mumbled.

  A warm hand rested on her shoulder, making her jump. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Another deep inhalation, and she was finally able to lift her head. “Thanks for sticking up for me, but you didn’t have to. I can handle Troy.”

  “I know, but you shouldn’t have to. That prick needs to learn that he’s no longer part of your life. In fact, someone ought to send him a message, just so he’s clear on that.”

  Alarm skittered up her spine when she glimpsed the severe look on her brother’s face. “No. Don’t you dare rustle up Mike and Jordan and go after him. Troy knows where I stand. He won’t come back.”

  Rob’s jaw tightened. “Do you truly believe that?”

  “Yes. But it doesn’t matter what I believe. I don’t need or appreciate your interference. I’m a big girl, Rob. I can take care of myself.” She exhaled in a rush. “Please. Promise me you’ll back off.”

  A beat of hesitation, and then he sighed. “Fine. I won’t send a message.”

  Relief swept over her. “Thank you.”

  “But”—Rob was quick to voice a caveat—“if he comes around again, I can’t make the same promise.”

  “He won’t,” she said firmly.

  But deep down, she wasn’t so sure.

  Troy’s unexpected visit had left Brett so shaken up she decided to cancel on AJ that night, but when she got home after work, she was surprised to find his Jeep already parked at the meter.

  Crap. He was early.

  She parked a few spaces ahead of him, then made sure her parking permit was visible on the dash. Her apartment didn’t have a driveway or garage, which meant she had no choice but to leave her car on the street. She’d used to worry that it might get stolen, but she’d learned pretty fast that nobody wanted to steal her beat-up hatchback. Fixing it up would no doubt cost more money than anyone could make selling it.

  Her boots connected with the sidewalk at the same time AJ strode toward her. Since the club was closed, he wasn’t wearing his all-black bartender clothes but his preppy getup—jeans, a white T-shirt, and sneakers on his feet.

  In her black leather pants, bloodred tank top and high-heeled boots, Brett knew she and AJ looked like the last two people who’d ever get together, yet when his lips touched hers in a kiss hello, their mouths fit together perfectly.

  “I was going to call you to cancel,” she admitted when they’d pulled back.

  He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing major or anything. I just had a crappy day, and I’m not really in the mood for sexy times.” She paused. “You can go if you want.”

  He looked surprised. “Why would I go? Do you want me to?”

  Brett wrinkled her forehead. “Well, no, but…you know, this was supposed to be about sex.” She fidgeted with her hands. “If there’s no sex tonight, there’s no reason for you to be here.”

  “Sure there is. We can still hang out.” It was his turn to shift in discomfort. “Unless you don’t want to…?”

  Brett bit her lip, torn. She wouldn’t mind the company, but she hadn??
?t been kidding about not being in the mood. It seemed impossible, considering that all AJ had to do was look at her and her panties melted off, but her mind was too muddled at the moment. Seeing Troy had reminded her of a chapter in her life she was desperate to forget, and not even AJ could distract her from that tonight.

  Times like these, only some trashy television and a carton of ice cream did the trick.

  “Have you eaten?” she asked him.

  He nodded. “I had dinner at my folks’ house.”

  “Good, because there’s nothing in my fridge, so I wouldn’t have been able to feed you.” Ugh, which also meant no ice cream. Damn it. “I desperately need to get some groceries.”

  “Why don’t we do that now?”

  The suggestion threw her for a loop. “You want to go grocery shopping together?”

  “Why not? We might as well stock up your fridge, seeing as you’re not in the mood…”

  The humor in his eyes made it clear he was just teasing her. He genuinely seemed okay that she’d taken sex off the table, and she appreciated that he wasn’t trying to coax her into getting naked.

  “Okay,” she said with a shrug. “Let’s do it then.”

  “I’ll drive,” he replied, taking her hand and leading her to his Jeep. “Where do you want to go?”

  The Kims’ store was already closed for the night, so she directed him to the twenty-four-hour grocery mart three blocks away. Five minutes later, they were pushing a squeaky cart through the air-conditioned aisles.

  Talk about surreal.

  Brett noticed several shoppers sneaking peeks at her arms as she passed by. It was a common occurrence—people always stared at her tattoos, and she didn’t mind it, especially since most of the time it was out of admiration. Every now and then, though, the attention stemmed from disapproval and judgment.

  Case in point—the woman they encountered in the cereal aisle.

  Middle-aged and harried-looking, the blonde was pushing an overloaded cart while two little girls trailed after her, bouncing excitedly on their tiny pink sneakers.

  “Pretty!” one of the girls exclaimed, pointing to the cluster of roses around Brett’s wrist.

  The child’s mother was quick to correct her. “Not pretty,” she said in a stern voice. “It’s mutilation, sweetie.” With a pointed look, she added, “And very inappropriate.”

  As inappropriate as taking two small children grocery shopping at nine thirty on a school night? Brett was tempted to snipe back.

  “What’s mootilation?” the other girl asked.

  The woman didn’t even look Brett’s way as she and her daughters disappeared around the corner. Brett couldn’t hear her response to the children, but she didn’t need to be a genius to figure out what it would be. Something scathing, no doubt.

  “Ignore that,” AJ murmured to her.

  She offered a wry look before scanning the wall of cereal boxes in search of the one she wanted. “Don’t worry. I’m used to those types of reactions. You’re the one I feel bad for. You poor thing, associating with someone so mutilated and inappropriate.”

  His soft chuckle heated the back of her neck. “I happen to find your mutilated body very sexy.”

  “Aw, thank you.” She spotted her favorite cereal and leaned up on her tiptoes, but she was too short to reach the top shelf.

  AJ snickered and took pity on her, coming up beside her to grab the box of Corn Pops. His arm brushed hers, bare skin grazing bare skin, and she broke out in goose bumps. Jeez. There’d been nothing sexual about the contact, yet her entire body tingled like crazy.

  Maybe she was in the mood, after all.

  But since they were already at the grocery store, she forced herself to banish the temptation to abandon the cart and drag him home.

  “Seriously, though, how many other girls covered in tats have you gone out with?” she asked curiously.

  “Not many,” he confessed.

  “None, I bet.”

  “Fine. None.”

  “Have any of your girlfriends been bat-shit crazy?”

  “No, I can’t say they have. Why? Do I need to worry about any bat-shit crazy exes of yours tracking me down and killing me?”

  “Probably not.” She paused in the next aisle, swiping a jar of olives from the shelf and carefully placing it in the cart.

  “Probably?” AJ echoed. “That doesn’t sound promising at all.”

  “I already told you, I’ve dated some jerks in the past.” Brett hesitated, then decided she might as well be completely honest with him. “One of them showed up at the tattoo parlor today.”

  “Yeah?”

  “This guy Troy. He strolled right in and announced that he wants me back.”

  AJ’s broad shoulders stiffened, but it was difficult to interpret the response. Was he jealous? Angry on her behalf? Despite his rigid body language, his shuttered expression revealed nothing.

  “I see,” AJ said slowly. “And do you want him back?”

  “Hell no.” She spoke with unwavering conviction. “But seeing him was kind of…I don’t know…depressing, I guess? It reminded me of all the time I invested in the relationship. All the time I wasted.”

  “There’s no such thing as a waste of time.” AJ shrugged. “The way I see it, everything we do, every decision we make, good or bad, is just a learning opportunity.”

  “Yeah, well, I learned never to trust men with dimples.”

  He grinned at her, and the dimple in his chin popped out as if on cue. “Aw. You don’t trust me, angel?”

  “Not in the slightest,” she said cheerfully. “You’re an evil man who does evil things to my body.”

  “Ha. You like it. Scratch that—you love it.” His teasing expression shifted back to curiosity. “So what kind of horrendous things did this Troy do to you?”

  “At the beginning? Nothing. I was head over heels in love with him. He was fun and adventurous and made me laugh. We had a ton in common—he’s a tattoo artist, too. A ridiculously talented one.” She frowned. “At least when he bothers to show up for work.”

  “A bum, huh?” AJ said as they headed down the next aisle.

  “Naah, just a guy who likes to have a good time.” Sighing, she tossed two packages of linguine into the cart. “He wasn’t the greatest influence on me. If he wanted to close the bar on a Monday night, I’d be right there with him. If he felt like blowing off work for a couple of days and driving up to Maine for a spontaneous beach trip, I was like, sign me up.” Another breath slipped out, this one heavy with regret. “When I’m in a relationship, I give it everything I have. I work so hard to make the other person happy.”

  “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

  “It is when you’re the one making all the compromises.” She stopped in the frozen-food aisle. “And it’s even worse when you do it against your better judgment. I mean, I knew I shouldn’t have been out at the bar when I had to be up early the next morning, but I couldn’t say no to Troy. He was addictive.”

  AJ sidled up to her as she started piling cartons of ice cream into the cart. “So how did it end?”

  She was grateful for the cold air shivering out of the freezer, because her cheeks had gone hot with embarrassment. “We were at a pub, and Troy picked a fight with some guy who wouldn’t give up the pool table. It escalated real fast, and the owner called the cops. They ended up taking me in, too.”

  “Shit,” AJ murmured.

  Brett pretended to focus on a shelf of frozen veggies so she wouldn’t have to look at him. “My dad had to bail me out.” She nearly choked on the shame lining her throat. “It was mortifying. That’s when I realized I couldn’t have someone like Troy in my life. It didn’t matter how much fun we had together. He wasn’t good for me. So I ended it. And then, a few weeks later, I found out from a friend that he’d been cheating on me the entire time we were together.”

  AJ whistled under his breath. “Sounds like a real prince. And he came by to see you today?”

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; “Yep.”

  “Man. I can see why you’re in a bad mood.”

  “More like a sad mood.” She turned away from the freezer and examined the cart. She’d gotten everything she’d needed, and as she and AJ headed for the checkout line, she glanced over with a dry look. “I’m betting there aren’t any stories like that in your dating history.”

  “No,” he confessed. “The girls I’ve dated have been pretty wholesome. You know, the type you can bring home to mom.”

  His words evoked a spark of hurt, even though she knew it wasn’t a specific dig at her. Yes, he’d met her family, but that was because they were putting on a show for them. There was no reason for Brett to meet his parents.

  Except…she suspected that even if they had an official relationship, he still wouldn’t take her to meet them. She was the furthest thing from wholesome. Hell, she’d literally chased someone out of a grocery aisle five minutes ago.

  “What are your parents like?” She halted five feet from the line so they were out of earshot of the other customers.

  Uneasiness creased his features, the way it always seemed to do when he mentioned his family. He’d told her about his brother dying, but other than that, she had no idea what his family life was like.

  “They’re…nice,” he said vaguely. “But very traditional about some things.”

  “Like what?”

  “You know, marriage, kids, white picket fences. They’ve been married for forty years, and honestly? They really do have the perfect relationship. They hardly ever fight, they tell each other everything, they’re madly in love.” He paused, a faraway light in his eyes. “They want the same thing for me. They want me to be smart and successful, marry the perfect woman, have perfect children.”

  Brett carefully edged in. “Like I said last week, perfection doesn’t exist.”

  “Tell that to them.” No mistaking the bitterness hardening his features.

  And the…guilt?

  God, sometimes it was impossible to read this man.

  “But what about what you want?” she pointed out. “I mean, it’s nice that they want all these things for you, but do you want to get married and have kids?”