“One can only hope,” I mumble.
“Hon, pour a fresh one and come sit down. At least slow down to a slow jog rather than a sprint.”
I sigh loudly. “Oh, all right then. God, when did I suddenly give a shit about him again?”
She picks her wine glass up off the kitchen counter. “Potty mouth Sam is in the house, so it must be bad. At least my night will be entertaining if nothing else.” I scowl at her back before following her into the living room with the vodka and tonic bottles, then plop myself down on her large, gray, suede sectional that is even more comfortable than it looks. I turn and rub my face against the back of the couch.
“I think I want to marry your sectional,” I say with a sigh.
“Holy shit, woman, how much vodka did you put in those drinks? You’re talking about making a commitment with an inanimate piece of furniture. This must be bad.”
“The worst. No … the best. No, wait. Oh, f**k. I dunno. He’s Sean f**king Miller. Love of my life, regret of the century. The superstar of my fantasies.” I look her straight in the eye and I’m immediately cut to the quick by the sincerity and concern I see reflected on her face. “I’m screwed aren’t I?”
“Oh, believe me, I can tell you’re going to be if that man is still as potent and panty-dropping good as he used to be. Sammy, you need to take control of the situation. I remember how much of a mess you were last time, but you’ve grown now. You have your own mind and you know what and who you are now. Why is this affecting you so much?” she looks at my glass, then back at my face.
Leaning forward, I pour drink number four into my glass on the coffee table, take a long sip and busy myself back into the future sofa of my dreams.
“He’s aged so damn well, Hels. Seriously, he was hot in college, smoking hot. The good boy with an edge. But now … now he looks wiser, more dignified. And by God, the way he looked at me? It was like he could see right through my armor and was studying my soul.”
“So what’s the problem then?”
“He’s strong, and irresistible and likes to dominate.”
“This isn’t anything new, hon and at one time, he really used to do it for ya.”
I try to boost my flailing confidence by taking another drink. “Okay, so you know the club you picked up his brother from today?”
“Uh, yeah, everyone under thirty-five in Chicago knows about Throb.”
“Did you know about upstairs?”
“The question is how do YOU know about upstairs?”
“Oh, c’mon, Hels. I’m a cop, word spreads. But it was Zander who told me actually. There are private rooms up there for ...” I lift my spare hand and do an air quote, “stuff.” With that, Helen bursts out laughing—a bent in half, ‘have to put the wine glass down and hug herself’ laugh.
Rico walks in, panting and out of breath and looking every inch the hot Brazilian man he is. He looks at me and smiles. “Hey, Sammy.” Then he sees Helen laughing her ass off and tilts his head sideways, still standing by the now closed front door. “Minha vida, what on earth is so funny?” he asks with a smile on his face as he takes a few large steps to the couch and leans over the back of it to lay a big fat one on Helen’s smiling lips.
I look over at them and sigh loudly and happily. “That’s a new one. What does that mean?”
Rico looks over at me then back to Helen, his eyes full of love and adoration for his wife to be. “It means my life.”
Oh my God. I want that! “Guys, you’re making me all jealous and swoony. Please resume normal programming and let me wallow with my bedmate for a while,” I say, holding up the bottle of vodka.
Rico circles the couch and sits between us, not caring that he’s covered in sweat. He wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me to his side. “What’s wrong, Sammy? Whose ass do I need to go kick?”
“Mine,” I mumble.
“Never gonna happen. Try again,” he adds with an encouraging squeeze.
“No, hang on.” Helen recovers from her laughing fit and turns to me. “Sam, I love you to death and always will, but you’re no prude. I know that and you know that. So why does … oh, hell. Why does the ‘stuff’ make you uneasy?”
I open my mouth to reply but stop and look down at the empty glass in my hands instead. Does it make me uneasy? Or is it simply a case of the guilt bestowed upon me from the past? Shit! I look up at Helen and Rico who are both waiting for my answer.
“Fuck!” I say loudly. “You know what, Hels, you’re right. But Sean is in a whole world above that. One look down a hospital corridor and I was mush. I mean, melted into a puddle on the floor. He looked angry and annoyed and intense, then he saw me and that look turned to shock.” My drunken verbal diarrhea stage has begun it seems.
“You need to see him again,” Rico states directly. “You two have always had unfinished business, Sam. You broke up and then you went MIA from his life. You told me it was hard for you. Well, newsflash honey, if he was as into you as you were into him, he would have felt it just as much as you did. Us macho men may seem tough, but we feel too, you know.”
“What about Tanner?” Helen pipes up.
I narrow my eyes, confused as to what the hell my not-so-much-a-friend-with-really-good-benefits has to do with this. “What about him?”
“Does he get you all wound up like this?”
“No! Fuck no!”
Rico clears his throat and I jerk my eyes to him to see him giving me an all-knowing smile. I let my head fall back onto the couch and I groan, taking in Rico’s words of male wisdom. “Rico, do you always have to make so much f**king sense?”
“I see Sam’s dirty mouth is with us. Exactly how much has she had to drink?” He asks Helen, who starts laughing her ass off again, which starts me off. Soon enough, we’re all laughing.
Well, at least they took my mind off him I suppose.
Chapter 5: “Take Me or Leave Me”
Sean
After leaving the hospital, I went to the club to check in on things. Amy had everything under control, so once I’d made all the necessary arrangements to cover Ryan’s absence, I called for a car and headed home to my condo.
Dropping my keys on the hall table, I turn the lights on before walking up the stairs and into the living room. I pour myself a drink and walk to the front windows, leaning against them as I watch the city lights dance in front of me. The hustle and bustle of the city below calms me somehow. Even though I’m not from Chicago, this city has become my home and has held my heart for twenty-one years now. The Bears, the Cubs, the Bulls, Lake Michigan, Cloud Gate, Wicker Park, the South Loop, Michigan Avenue … the list goes on.