Chapter Three
Preston
I’d ignored the few calls from Rock I got after I’d sped out of the condo like a man running for his life. He would have to get over it. I couldn’t explain. I would just pitch in more money than I’d originally intended to make up for bailing on helping them set up. Staying that close to Amanda and not going after her and falling on my knees and begging her to forgive me for the stupid shit I said would have been impossible. I hated to see her hurt. I hated doing it. I was a shithead. But I couldn’t let her near me. She was too sweet and innocent.
Closing my Jeep door, I took a deep breath before heading toward the condo. The music was already pouring out the windows, and the parking lot was filling up. I’d come a little early so I could slip Rock some money so he’d get over the fact that I’d left him high and dry earlier.
Before I reached the door, it swung open and Rock stepped out. His frown looked more concerned than pissed. Shit.
“You okay?” were the first words out of his mouth.
I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a couple of hundreds. “Here. Take this. It’s my part for the party. I had some shit come up earlier and I had to run.”
Rock reached out and took it, but he didn’t put it in his pocket. He held it between his fingers. “You fucked up with some shit and can’t get out of it?”
What? Wait . . . did he mean drugs? “Uh, no.”
Rock’s eyebrows lowered, and he pointed the money I’d given him at me. “Then where the hell do you get the cash you never seem to run out of? ’Cause I know where you come from, boy, and it ain’t an inheritance.”
This was not the first time I’d dodged this question. But it was the first time I’d had to deal with it sober. “It ain’t drugs, Rock. Now put the shit in your pocket and let me inside.”
Rock shifted on his feet, but he didn’t move. “You know if you need help getting out of anything, I got your back. Right?”
He’d had my back since we were kids. He was also the only friend I’d ever had over to my trailer growing up. I’d just had him over the one time, though. Momma had been high as a kite and throwing the few dishes we had across the kitchen because I’d forgotten to pick up her empty bottles of whiskey and throw them away the night before. I could still see the look of horror in Rock’s eyes that day. It had been the first and last time I let someone come over.
I nodded, stepped around him, and headed inside the door. He slapped my back as I passed, and I knew we were okay.
The place looked amazing. Those paper balls were hanging from the ceiling, and it looked pretty damn good. Flowers in vases wrapped with white lights were everywhere. It wasn’t too incredibly packed yet, but I knew everyone would be here soon enough. I scanned the room quickly for any sign of Amanda. She wasn’t here yet. I had time to get a drink and find a female to latch on to before she showed up.
There were several stations with bartenders outside on the patio and around the pool. I made my way out there. Fresh air and a shot of Cuervo would be nice.
“You bailed on me. I should push you in that pool,” Trisha said threateningly as she walked toward me.
“I know. I’m sorry. I gave Rock some money to make up for my running off. Something came up. I had to go.”
Trisha rolled her eyes. “Cheap sluts aren’t an emergency. They’re a dime a dozen.”
Let her think I’d run off to get laid. It was better than the truth. That I’d run off because Amanda Hardy was so fucking under my skin I couldn’t think straight. She’d been the only thing in my head while I’d relieved some tension in the shower before I left for the party.
“Don’t push me in. I might get naked and get this party started,” I replied with a wink.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” she replied, and walked off.
I stopped at the first drinking station when I saw Dewayne, another of my best friends since elementary school. Me, Rock, Marcus, and Dewayne had been close since the day we’d all been suspended in the second grade for fighting on the playground. It had formed a bond that I’d never take for granted. I’d needed a family. They’d become that for me.
“If it ain’t the pussy king,” Dewayne said. “I show up to help out, and your ass is already run off. ’Course, I wasn’t surprised. I’d have been more surprised if you’d actually stayed and worked all day.”
“Shut up. You lazy ass, I know you didn’t stay all day,” I replied with a grin, and looked over at the young guy in a tuxedo standing behind the bar. “I need a shot of tequila.”
“Already hitting it hard, huh? Damn.”
I started to respond when Dewayne’s eyes widened and he let out a low whistle. I followed his gaze and almost swallowed my damn tongue.
Amanda was here. Wearing a short, clingy white dress. Her long tanned legs looked even longer with the bronze high-heeled sandals she was wearing. Her silky blond hair was curled and pulled up on her head, while several curls had fallen loose and grazed her bare neck and shoulders. Ah, hell.
“Is she with Jason Stone? Fuck, I hope not. Marcus is gonna be pissed.” Dewayne’s words slapped me in the face. I tore my eyes off her and looked to see whose arm she was holding on to. Jax Stone’s brother was smiling down at her, saying something. He was making her laugh. She was gazing up at him like he was fascinating. Fuck. A red haze settled over my vision, and I started to move. A hand clamped down on my arm and jerked me back.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dewayne’s hard tone surprised me. What was I doing?
“I, he, she . . . I don’t know.”
I didn’t look back at Dewayne. I couldn’t explain that asinine answer. Instead, I turned to the bartender. “Make that a double, and keep ’em coming.”
Amanda
Jason was everything Preston wasn’t. He was polite. He liked talking to me. He made me feel attractive. He didn’t say hurtful, mean things. He wasn’t scanning the crowd looking for a female to haul off and screw. He was with me. Completely. It was nice. I liked feeling wanted.