Page 57 of Wasted On You

“What’s that?” He was still scanning the room and not paying attention. The way he figured it, he had about a minute to escape or chance running into Ivy.

“Life is too short. Folks use that one all the time. But here’s the thing. Clichés work because they’re rooted in fact. They make sense. Tie things up nice and easy.” Benton’s voice changed, and Mike Paul turned back to him. The man was currently embroiled in a custody battle for his young daughter.

“I’m going to tell you something that no one knows but my doctor and God. When I first came into the hospital after my accident last year, I died on the table. It was less than a minute, but I nearly left this place. Something like that makes a man think about all the mistakes he’s made. All the chances he’s missed. Makes him think about love and loss and family.” Benton took a step back. “That cliché is true.Life is too short. If you love Ivy, fight for her because regret kills. It makes a man old before his time, and it’s a cold kind of comfort, telling yourself it’s for the best because that’s bullshit.” Benton offered a wry smile. “Lay your cards on the table. Let them fall. And hope for the best. It’s not a guarantee, but at least you tried.”

Benton Bridgestone gave a slight nod and scooped up the dart. He turned to the men at the next table. “Who’s in for the next game?”

Effectively dismissed and, thanks to the Bridgestone boys, more confused than ever, Mike Paul headed for Millie Sue.

“Hey,” he said, bending down close to her ear. “I’m heading out.” She turned to him, surprised, and he kissed her cheek. “As always, it’s been great, but I’ve got an early day and a teenager to deal with, so I better get home.”

“I saw Jacob leave. Didn’t he take your truck?”

Fuck. Me.He’d forgotten that.

“I’ll call a cab.”

Millie Sue held his gaze for a few seconds and then slowly nodded. “Ivy had to take a phone call.”

“Tell her I said goodnight, and I’ll catch up with you guys sometime this week.”

Mike Paul gave a wave to the rest of the ladies and headed for the large table of coats. It felt like he was committing some kind of crime, and it took him a bit to find his jacket because he was all thumbs. He pulled it on and took exactly two steps when his insides shifted. The air changed, and his heart ramped up.

“Typical move. Ignoring me for the entire evening and then sneaking out like you’re fifteen, and we just stole two bottles of whiskey from your dad’s cabinet.”

Mike Paul knew that he could be the dick everyone thought he was and head for the door without a word. Or he could be the guy he wanted to be and face the music.

Mike Paul chose door number two.

He turned and, like always, had to take a moment. Her dress, a vibrant red silky number, clung to her body in a way that made his mouth water. It caressed hips and thighs and left more than a fair share of skin showing—most of her back and those delectable breasts. Her hair was left long and fell over bare shoulders, burnt amber waves that begged for his fingers, while her eyes, enhanced with smoky dark eyeshadow, looked mysterious. Her lips were moist and, shiny and plump.

He’d give his left hand for a taste.

But he couldn’t. At least not yet. On account of him wanting to be the better man and all.

Mike Paul gave himself a mental shake and organized his thoughts. He attempted a smile and hoped she’d let him off easy.

“I’ve got the kid back at my place and?—”

“Bullshit,” she interrupted, taking a step closer.

Her scent, this crazy warm vanilla scent that made his mouth water, danced in the air. Unfair, really, how good she smelled.

“It’s not all bull, Ivy. Jake’s in a tough spot and?—”

“He’s what, sixteen?”

“Seventeen, actually.”

“He’s a seventeen-year-old kid who is back at your place right now. Probably comfy in front of the fireplace with Weiner and Bun on his lap, watching some violent, misogynistic show he shouldn’t be watching, chugging J.D. straight from the bottle he lifted from your bar. He’s got space. Time away from his father. He’s in heaven and doesn’t want or need you right now.”

She wasn’t wrong. And yet he couldn’t stay. How was he going to explain that to her?

“Why are you leaving?” she asked before he could head her off with another lame ass excuse. “After coming in hot, you’ve ignored me for most of the night. You’re acting weird, and I don’t like it. I thought…I’m not sure what I thought, but I didn’t expect this.”

Her words came out quickly, and he clenched his hands into fists, his breath catching as his heart raced.

“Why are you leaving?” she asked again, moving closer to him.

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