“Hey! You were friends with me.” I shove into her body, causing her to fall over and almost out of the bed.
“Keep that up and you’re going to have one less friend,” she fires back.
“You can’t live without me,” I joke as I wrap my arm around her pulling her in for a hug. “But promise me that you’ll never let me drink like that again,” I grumble as my stomach rolls, desperately in need of some greasy food to soak up the bile rising in my throat.
“Ha. Okay, famous last words.” She stands from the bed, reaches for her cup, and then walks toward the door. “Come on. Breakfast will be ready soon and it’s only a matter of time before Taryn comes barreling back in here.”
“I’ll be out there in a second,” I say, realizing I haven’t peed yet and I have no idea what my appearance looks like. Slowly as not to upset my equilibrium anymore, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand at a snail’s pace, gaining my footing before grabbing my coffee cup as well. As I turn back to face the bed, my eyes land on Javier’s photo, the sour taste of his reaction to me eating me up inside along with the acid in my stomach. Obviously, the guy had a problem with me, for what reason I’m not sure.
But I guess it doesn’t matter. I’ll probably never see him again.
Chapter 6
Javier
“So tell me why I had to hear from my husband that you ran into Sydney Matthews at The Jameson on Saturday?” If it weren’t for the smack of her gum, I wouldn’t have been prepared for acquisition. I turn around in the chair at the front desk of Elite Gym and glare up at my sister from my seat.
Folding my arms over my chest, I arch my brow at her. “Technically, she ran into me.”
Images of seeing Sydney drunk and disorderly flash in my mind for a second until I push them away. I’ll never admit to what seeing her all grown up did to me because that would mean that I actually give a shit that I saw her.
Which I don’t.
“Semantics. So, what did the most popular girl in school say when she wet your pants?” My sister’s grin is a mile wide as she eats up the fact that my run in with the prom queen wasn’t smooth sailing.
“She attempted to apologize I believe, but she was pretty wasted. Of course, I don’t know that she truly meant it anyway.”
“Sydney Matthews? Drunk? I’d have to see it to believe it.” The tap of her fingernails on the top of the counter starts to grate on my nerves.
“Can you stop that, please?”
“Jeez, grump. Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”
“Just a long day,” I reply, not wanting to reveal that I actually woke up with a raging hard-on as Sydney visited me in my sleep. The girl was everything I hated about people from the other side of our town growing up—privileged, pristine, perfect—so I don’t understand why seeing her the other night is stirring up past feelings of inadequacy, or why I can’t shake the image of her shapely body from my subconscious. The girl never knew I existed in high school, and to be quite honest, I didn’t care.
But her long dark hair and smooth white skin that had been gently kissed by the sun made my fingers itch with the desire to touch her, and the confusion in her aqua eyes when I called her by name gave me a playful high I haven’t felt in years. She was curvier than I remember her being ten years ago too—a girl that clearly developed into a woman during that period of time.
Ten years—could it really have been that long since I last seethed at the image of her and her friends across campus as she conversed with her crew of varsity athletes and ASB leaders? The disdain I felt for those people comes back full force as I remember how they always looked down on kids like me—the ones from the other side of town that would never compare to them monetarily or otherwise. Honestly though, I don’t remember much of the last few months of senior year due to inebriation and being stoned out of my mind most days. I wasn’t the most academically devoted student if you catch my drift, but I did enough work to get by and graduate.
Shifting back to our run-in Saturday night, it was rewarding to catch someone like her off her game, throw a wrench into her world where people probably worship the ground she walks on and bow at her feet still. The woman probably doesn’t even know what it means to struggle, to have to choose between freedom and living up to a vow your family engrained in you from birth. Last I heard she went off to college at her parent’s alma mater, but I have no idea what she’s up to now. I did lose two years of my life in prison, so I wasn’t exactly keeping up with town gossip. My sister could probably fill in those details for me if I asked though, given how many clients from that world come through her salon.
“Javi. There’s a new client coming in twenty minutes for the self-defense class. Here’s the paperwork I need her to fill out before she begins.” Andre comes down the hallway where the storage closets and his office are located, handing me a packet of forms all new members must complete before using the facilities.
“Sure.” I grab the papers and set them in front of me as I log into the computer and make note of how many people signed up for the three evening sessions we offer. Since I work construction during the day, I come in here from six to nine two nights a week, leading a few HIIT classes
