Page 64 of Dash

“Hey, man,” I turn around to see Blake standing by the open the fridge as he speaks to me. “I didn’t think you were gonna come.” He reaches in and grabs two beers.

I shrug as I walk over to him. “I changed my mind.”

He hands me a beer and claps me on the shoulder. “Drink up. You’re gonna need it.”

“Why’s that?” I ask tilting the bottle back.

“Well…” He pauses. “Tabatha is here,” he says before he tilts his back and takes a swig of his own. “And she’s drunk.”

I grip my beer bottle tighter to the point my knuckles turn white. God, I miss her so much. I need to see her. “Who’s she here with?” I look down at my bottle and start to pick at the label, trying to act as if I don’t really care.

“She came with us,” he says simply, and I nod my head to him. Makes sense. She wanted to party with her friend, Jackie. Who is dating my best friend. Well, and of course, the fact that her father is my boss…I take a bigger swig of my beer. I hate that she made me love her with no intention of loving me back. I hate that I acted like a little bitch and fell for her so fast. I hate that Rodger hurt her. What I don’t hate, though, is the fact that I kicked his ass. Which Mr. Knight has been true to his word. I have not heard one peep from any lawyers or Rodger himself about pressing charges. So far.

“Where is she?” I start to look around. I just need a glimpse of her. I just wanna see that smile on her face. I know I won’t be the reason for it, but it would make me happy.

He spins around, surveying the house. “She was here just a minute ago.” He frowns. “She must be with Jackie in the bathroom or something.”

I turn around and walk away before I can change my mind. I need to see her. I need to explain something to her. I need to apologize for the way I acted at the police station. Maybe once I apologize, I will be able to move on.

I take off down the hallway, saying hello and shaking the hands of guys I remember from high school. For the ones who haven’t moved away, we have stayed pretty close over the last four years. Shockingly, most of them have settled down, gotten married, and even have a kid or two. That’s quite a bit for four years.

I come to the end of the hallway, and I come to a closed door. I knock, afraid some random person may be having sex in there. You never know at parties what you may walk into. Once I get no response, I reach down and turn the knob and it opens up for me. As soon as I step into the bedroom, I instantly feel like I just stepped off a plane in Africa. Cheetah print everywhere. A big area rug covers the wooden floor with cheetah print on it. A big four-poster bed sits elevated in the middle of the room with a dark brown comfortable and cheetah print pillows. The walls are also painted a dark brown with a cheetah type of border.

I just turn to leave the room when I hear a woman laugh from behind a door that’s at the other end of the room. I know that laugh. It’s hers. Tabatha’s.

I tiptoe my way over to the door and press my ear up against it. I don’t hear anything so I very carefully and quietly twist the doorknob and push it open just a little.

My heart pounds in my chest and my throat tightens. I see her sitting on the bathroom counter. Her long dark hair is down and over one shoulder, messy and looks to be tangled. Her high heels lay on the tile floor as her bare feet swing back and forth, hitting the cabinets softly. She wears a shirt—a man’s shirt. I know this because the man standing in front of her is shirtless. A man who was supposed to be my friend, Jake. He leans over as he looks her eye to eye, both hands on either side of her on the countertop.

He says something that I can’t quite understand due to the ringing in my ears. I watch as she throws her head back and laughs as if it was the funniest thing on earth. She loses her balance and her arms come up from the counter and she grabs on to him as if she thought she was gonna fall off of the counter. He starts to laugh as he wraps his arms around her and holds on to her tightly.

She goes to giggle, but he covers her mouth with his.

I’ve seen enough. Anger, anger like any other I have ever felt runs through me. I should go in there. I should yank him off her and demand to know what the fuck they are doing… but she doesn’t love me. She didn’t choose me as I did her. I need to be a fucking man and live with that no matter how much it hurts.

I shut the door and make my way back through the bedroom. I shut that door as well and down the rest of my beer as I head for the front door. I don’t acknowledge a single soul as I walk right out the front door. I throw my beer bottle out to the side of me as I walk to my car, and I hear it break as it hits the concrete. Hope Jake drives his Range Rover over it and flattens his tires. I get in my car and fire it up as I get the fuck out of there.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

TABATHA

My skin tingles and my heart races. His hands on my back and his lips on mine…I close my eyes and I allow him control over my lips. My body pushes into his, and my hands find their way to his bare chest.

His lips pull away from mine, and they travel down to my neck. “Jake…” I breathe, my head foggy.

His breath lands on my neck. “I love the way you breathe my name,” he whispers, sending shivers down my neck. “Say it again.”

“Dash…” My eyes spring open, and I shove him away. “Oh, my God.” I gasp.

“Tabatha…” Jake holds his hands up in the air.

“What were you doing?” I demand. What the hell was I doing?

“It’s okay that you accidentally called me Dash. I know you guys are over…”

“You know nothing,” I scream at him as I jump off the bathroom countertop. My ankle gives out, and I find myself sprawled out on the bathroom floor cussing myself. Why did I call him Dash? He kisses nothing like Dash. Why did I even allow him to kiss me in the first place? Tears start to well up in my eyes. I blink a few times.

He reaches down to help me up, and I shove his hand away. “Don’t touch me,” I snap as I find my way to stand.

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