Page 13 of Broken Bridges

At our table, Flint and Sutton were smooching and cuddling. The heat radiating off them was hot enough to melt a polar ice cap.

“Hey, you two? Enough.” Giggling, Tia slapped her hand on the table to break them apart. “We don’t need to see that.”

Our presence didn’t stop them from kissing. Flint circled his hand over Sutton’s back and flipped us the bird.

Seeing people in love was hard after I’d had my heart sliced in two. But I refused to let the damage rule me. Having fun, moving on, and laughing were the best forms of medicine. I needed to overdose on all three.

I slid onto the chair beside Tia and handed her a coaster. “What’s wrong with them making out? Don’t you like to watch?”

“Oh, I like to watch.” She grabbed the coaster in my hand, but I didn’t let it go. She smiled, leaned in closer, and whispered in my ear, “I liked the show of you kissing that guy on the dance floor before.”

Why did I like that notion?

She sat back, tugged the coaster out of my hand, and took a decent sip of her drink.

“What did you like about it?” I lifted my drink toward my mouth and glanced at her over the rim of my glass. “Did you want to join in?”

Shit! What if she said yes? If she’d edged between us on dance floor, I wasn’t sure I would’ve asked her to leave. Fuck. I downed a mouthful of my drink and swallowed hard, praying the alcohol would knock some sense into me.

“No.” She shook her head. Cute wrinkles formed on the bridge of her nose. “I like a lot of things, but not threesomes. I’ve had a couple. Not my thing.”

Thank goodness, she’d said no. “Not mine either. They’re overrated.” Too many hands, arms, and legs, and not enough cock to go around.

“What happened to the dance floor guy?”

“He turned out to be an asshole.”

She shrugged. “A lot of men are.” Sting hovered in her tone.

“We’re not all bad.” I took another sip of my bourbon, savoring the burn as it slid down my throat.

“No, but the good ones are either taken or gay.” She circled her palm at me.

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be.” She slapped then rubbed my thigh. “You’re cool. Don’t ever change. You’ll fit in well with the guys.”

Heat pooled beneath her touch. My leg tingled. Damn. I caught her hand just above my knee. ButI didn’t remove it...or let go. I scanned her face, intrigued by her. “I hope so.”

“You’ve got some big shoes to fill.” She glanced at my crotch then met my eyes. “But from what I can tell, you’ll measure up.”

I laughed and removed her hand from my leg. “You like causing trouble?”

Her shoulders slumped. “I used to. Sorry, I’m a bit of a mess tonight. Alcohol and painkillers aren’t a good mix.”

That explained the glassy eyes.

I’d honestly never met anyone like her. She had a tough exterior, was a flirtatious barrel of laughs, but her eyes gave away to being damaged on the inside. Maybe that was why I was captivated. No one was perfect. And maybe we had too much in common.

She rested her elbow on the table and cupped her chin in her hand. “So what were you doing before you joined the guys?”

“I’m from Brooklyn. I was in a band called The Saylors, but we broke up six months ago.”

“The Saylors?” She pinched her eyebrows together. Her eyes darkened as if she were sifting through her brain. “Never heard of them. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. We were shit. Not for lack of talent but lack of unified direction. My best friend, Hayden, left The Saylors a few years ago and joined Everhide. It went downhill after that.”

“I’ve met Hayden a few times. He’s really nice. Was he your boyfriend before he married Lexi?”

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