Page 55 of Lotus

Clem spears me with a cynical stare, swinging her shoulder-length hair from side to side. “You see ruin where I see potential,” she states with poignancy. “But I’ll accept your backwards way of thinking. I won’t bring it up again.” Clementine stands from her chair, straightening her miniskirt and signaling towards the bar with a head bob. “More drinks?”

God, yes.I follow her lead, ignoring the barb, and we situate ourselves at an opening at the counter. Rebecca sends us a wave from the opposite end, and I mouth ‘no rush’. But she slaps Brant on the shoulder and points in our direction, earning us a wink and an easy grin.

Thirty seconds later, we’re sipping on fresh cocktails, preparing for another round on the dance floor. But before the flashing DJ lights can beckon us over, Clem’s cell phone starts ringing in her purse. Her subsequent eye roll leads me to believe it’s Nate.

“Make it quick. It’s loud in here,” Clem clips as she accepts the call. She holds the phone to her ear and listens intently, her features twisting into something chilling. “What?”

My attention is piqued, my eyes peeled to my ashen sister. Clem runs tense fingers through her hair, tugging back the roots, absorbing whatever Nate is telling her.

“Okay, I’m on my way. Jesus… take her in. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

Shit.

“What the hell was that?” I wonder, rattled. “Is Poppy okay?”

Clem stuffs the cell phone back into her purse and digs through her wallet for cash. Her hands are shaking. “She fell and hit her head at the park tonight, but Nate said she seemed fine after a few tears. Now she’s throwing up and complaining of a headache. I think she has a concussion.”

“Oh, my God.”

“I’m so sorry, sis. Here’s some money for an Uber.” Clem tries to shove the money at me, but I dismiss it. “Please take it. I feel terrible for ditching you here.”

“No way, I’ll be fine. Go take care of your baby.”

Brant is in front of us, leaning forward on his palms. “I’ll give her a ride home,” he offers. “It’s not a problem. My shift is up in an hour.”

“You’re the best,” Clem says quickly, already moving away from the counter, fear radiating off her in waves. “Love you, hoochy.”

“Love you more, skank. Keep me posted.”

A nod, and she’s gone.

I twist back towards Brant, gifting him a sincere smile. “You’re sure you don’t mind hauling me around? Don’t you live on the other side of town?”

“I’m good. It’s not a big deal. Drink up and have fun.” He taps his knuckles on the counter before getting back to work, his tight t-shirt emphasizing every taut muscle.

I could have sworn he was gay.

Funny story…

Brant’s not gay.

I know this because our lips are locked together as we stumble up my pebbled walkway with frisky hands and clumsy feet.

I pull back for a breath. “I totally thought you were gay,” I mutter through a strained laugh as Brant fists my hair and grins.

“Why did you think that?”

“You were flirting with some preppy college guy when I first got hired.”

He presses a kiss to my mouth, his amusement evident. “Tips, Neville. You’ve got to learn to read the room.”

Point.

We’re back at it, and he spins me around until I’m pressed up against the brick siding. I’m enjoying it at first. Brant is sexy, totally my type, and his mouth is hot and capable. He tastes like spearmint and a damn good time.

But when his hands grip my hips, I’m transported back to my living room couch forty-eight hours prior, and it’s Oliver’s hands on me in the same position. Holding me the exact same way. It’shiseyes drinking me in, alight with red and gold flecks, glowing like a molten sunset.

And the moment that memory traipses through my mind, stomping all over my perfectly good evening, I choke. I freeze. I turn my head away, and Brant’s lips collide with my cheek.

---