Page 17 of Stirred Up

Conversation picks up around me as I stuff my face, ignoring Ricky’s arm draped across the back of my chair, his thumb occasionally brushing my skin. When I go to pour myself a margarita out of the pitcher in the middle of the table, it’s already done, sitting in front of me. I look up, Brady watching me, flashing a “you’re welcome” wink.

As Ricky and Dylan go head to head over some new video game sweeping the market, Brady leans in and whispers, “Isn’t he your clinic’s creepy janitor?”

“Shush, he’s cute and…” Yeah, I have no other adjective to describe the man whose hand is now trailing freely over the slope of my shoulders. The urge to sit back in my chair and deny him access is tempting, but I refrain, instead firing back at Brady.

“Aren’t your datesdating?” I quip with a sarcastic smirk. The two girls are lost in the table discussion but constantly looking at each other. AndPat…haven’t made a decision on her yet.

“I think so.” He chuckles. “But your brother picked them, not me. What’s your excuse?” His lighthearted tone deceiving his severe scrutiny cast upon Ricky’s hand.

“Right, Addison?” My name catches my attention so I turn to Ricky.

“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, overly kind.

“Shawna and Pat here don’t think I can take them inMortal Fear. Tell

them how good I am.”

“Take them where? And why are they scared?” I’ve only had a few sips, so why is this conversation completely disturbing?

He laughs animatedly and slaps his hand down over my thigh, a little too high for a first date, and leaves it clamped there, giving a suggestive squeeze. “The game,Mortal Fear. The one I always play in the break room?Aren’t I good?”

Ah, because itisdisturbing. But what’s even more so is the way his hand is creeping around to my inner thigh. Before I can make a move toremove his hand, I hear the low, undeniable growl emanating from Brady. When I glance his way, his penetrating stare is still locked on Ricky’s hand, looking more menacing by the second.

“She has no clue what you’re talking about. Moe hates video games. Don’t ya, sis?” Dylan challenges me from across the table.

With a hollow laugh, I casually place my hand over Ricky’s and weave my fingers through his. The move is too tender for what he deserves, but I’m not giving Brady the satisfaction of seeing me freak out. I asked Ricky to be here and he’s just being friendly. Ricky-style friendly.

I turn to the two women and do my best to make cheerful conversation. “So, you play video games?”

They talk excitedly over each other, “oh my God this” and “freaking

awesome that,” while I plaster on a mask of interest that pains my cheeks as I try to listen, appearing interested.

Then it’s all four of them, leaning across the table,phones out, quoting scores and friending each other on whatever gaming sites while Brady and I lean back and sip our drinks, willing time to race.

Juan approaches the table to take our orders and we’re the only two that notice, or know what we want—another pitcher, STAT. Maybe if they forget to order, I can do cheese dip and a buzz and get the hell out of here.

“No way, you have to leave the princess until at least level 10 or your key’s unguarded for Zylyn to steal,” Pat explains.

Ricky unthreads our fingers and slaps his own forehead, positively beaming with admiration. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Thank Christ! I subtly wipe my hand on the napkin in my lap, ignoring Brady’s silent amusement, bouncing shoulders giving him away. Yeah, yeah, so I’m wiping off possible cooties, ha ha.

“That’s brilliant!” Dylan speaks loudly, making a note in his phone.

Once I toss the napkin back on the table, I rest my head in my palm. I could be...doing anything else right now. Organizing my cupboards. Cleaning out myrefrigerator. Alphabetizing my CDs. It’s when Ricky’s hand settles back on my upper thigh that I make my decision—date night over. They really may not even notice, four heads leaned together in conspiracy, engrossed in the world of all that is gaming. But still, subtle and graceful is the way to make my exit.

“Oh my God!” I jump up, knocking over my chair. “I, um, I started my period! I have to go!” I grab my purse, avoiding the quizzical stares cast my way only but a moment before they’re once again locked in a circle.Helluva plan Addison, ‘cause calmly saying you had to work in the morning wouldn’t have been graceful.

I choked.

Brady’s up in a flash too. “I’m a doctor! I’ll help.” He digs furiously in his jacket pocket, pulling out his wallet and tossing bills on the table. “That’s for ours, Dyl, you good?”

Engrossed in What’s Her Name’s phone, Dylan barely manages a thumbs up.

“Bye, Ricky, sorry, thank you for tonight!” I once again find myself yelling as I

walk away from him. A flash of guilt hits, so I pivot, relieving myself immediately of any sense of obligation as I watch Ricky’s hand grip and rubthe back of Pat’s neck. Theysohave my blessing.

---