14. Why Shawn Vamos Should Walk Off a Bridge

FOURTEEN

#28 That naked lady tatoo on his butt. Wy have a butt on your butt??

"You have a boyfriend?"

Momentarily, I was reminded of Wiley E. Coyote after he'd been run over several times. Punch drunk—I supposed that's what you would call Nathan's expression.

Addled.

Or maybe a little heartbroken.

I shook the thought away. It was ridiculous. Nathan and I were friendly roommates with a weird kind of arrangement. There was absolutely no reason for him to be sad if I was involved with someone else.

Which I wasn't. Not really.

Or maybe I was.

"Er, had. Not exactly, but, um, sort of—" I started to say, but couldn't make it any further before I was interrupted by the bane of my existence—otherwise known as Shawn fucking Vamos.

"Joni, what the fuck?" Shawn stepped up to the bar right next to Nathan as if he and every other person in Opal were just another piece of furniture.

It was what had attracted me to him in the first place. I'd never seen anyone do that—walk into any room like they owned it without breaking a sweat.

That particular talent hadn't changed in the years since we'd met, and neither had his typical uniform of ripped jeans, a designer T-shirt that revealed two arms full of tribal tattoos, and a thick silver chain that gleamed against his smooth chest. His short black hair and groomed stubble also remained constants. The only real differences now were in the way his shirts were a little tighter around the midsection and the new filling that flashed gold with the others when he smiled, matching the two small hoops in his left earlobe. At fourteen, I'd thought his teeth made him look like a pirate, but now I recognized them as a marker of bad dental hygiene.

"I've been trying to reach you for weeks," he said in his thick Newark accent. "Even went all the way up to your grandma's shitty house, but apparently, she doesn't live there no more, and neither do you. What the fuck happened?"

He slid onto the barstool next to Nathan and folded his hands together into one large fist. The motion made his elbow bump into Nathan's.

Nathan didn't move at all, barely even turned to look at Shawn. But I could tell he was watching and thinking. By the way a muscle at the corner of his jaw was starting to tick; I doubted it was anything good.

Shawn scowled at Nathan when he didn't automatically give up the space. "You mind, guy? I'm talking with my girl."

"Nathan stays where he is," I suddenly found my voice.

Both men turned toward me, and the forces of both of their expressions—so different and yet equally powerful—had me backing up against the sink behind me. I reached out on either side to grip the edges of the bar, like I was on a teetering ship threatening to toss me overboard in a storm.

"He's a paying customer, Shawn," I said. "You're not."

Nathan's brows lifted above his glasses, and I knew what that meant. A customer? Really?

Shawn turned back to Nathan to give him his patented look-over, the one that most men understood as nothing good. It was a look that weighed the competition. Calculating just how many punches it would take to throw the sucker to the ground.

Anyone else would flinch under that black gaze.

Nathan didn't move a muscle.

To my surprise, Shawn turned away first, then offered me a smug grin that had always reminded me of a shark's. "Well, you always did like an audience, baby. Speaking of, you dancing tonight? I wouldn't mind watching a little show myself."

Nathan frowned, obviously confused, as he glanced down at my knee, then back at Shawn. His confusion was clear, and it made sense. After all, if Shawn was my boyfriend, wouldn't he know about my knee? Or that I'd moved out of Nonna's? Or where I'd actually gone?

This wasn't the time or place to explain everything to him. Especially when I'd never explained it to anyone. Not even Marie knew the whole story.

"My knee's busted," I said.

"Still?" Shawn sounded annoyed.

"Just like it was the last time I saw you."

"Hey, you can't blame a guy for not wanting to hang around no cripple, gorgeous. I'm too busy to play nursemaid. I'm sorry if that hurts your feelings, but it's the way the world works."

Nathan's eyes flared, but he still didn't say anything. Instead, he took a very long drink of his scotch. Under normal circumstances, I might have grinned at the way his eyes reddened at the unfamiliar sharp bite. But right now, I had no more sense of humor than he did.

I sighed, then picked up a cloth and started rubbing a spot on the counter that was already clean. "What do you want, Shawn?"

Shawn's smile disappeared. "I already asked. Where you been?"

"Around," I replied sullenly. "I moved out. Listen, do we really have to do this here? I'm at work."

Shawn drummed his fingers on the bar top and gave me another predatory grin. "I'll behave if you can, Sunshine."

It was a dare. And maybe one I might have responded to long ago. Back when Shawn used to rescue me from a chaotic house, sneak me into clubs I had no business going into, cheer me on as I danced on tables, and let him feel me up under them. Back then, it often felt like we were either fighting or fucking. There was a certain high to both.

A certain crash too.

"I told you in the fall I had to move out," I said with short, clipped consonants. "Nonna went back to Italy, so she rented the house. You'd know all of this if you hadn't dumped me and then gone straight to Diamonds. Chelle works there. How could you possibly think I wouldn't find out?"

Shawn just grinned. "I knew you would. I made sure of it. Honest, I thought I might run into you that night."

I scoffed. "In a strip club I never worked at? How dumb do you think I am?"

Another sharp grin. "You really want me to answer that, baby?"

My entire body flushed under that knowing gaze. And not in a good way.

Shawn sat back, hands up as if in surrender. "Hey, hey. I'm just being honest. What do you want me to say, you're a rocket scientist? Sure, if that's what you want to believe, you're a fuckin' Nobel Prize Winner."

"You know what?" I snapped. "Fuck you. You're just the same as you always were. An asshole."

Nathan's knuckles turned white around his glass as he glared at Shawn.

"An asshole who tells it like it is. Which is how you know I'm still telling the truth when I say you're as beautiful as ever, and I miss you. There's no one like you, Sunshine." He leaned across the bar and drifted a hand across my cheek. "I don't care if you're a little slow, sweetie. I like you just the way you are. Always did."

And that, in a nutshell, was every conversation I had ever had with Shawn Vamos. One part insult. Two parts compliment. A snakelike ability to twist every insecurity I had around his fingers so he could tug, and I'd do his bidding.

I hated that it was working. That I was sliding back into this give-and-take so easily.

"Besides," Shawn said as he sat back onto his stool, looking satisfied. "I was just looking at Diamonds, not touching. And any man who doesn't do that every now and then either has his balls cut off or he's lying. There's no in-between."

Beside him, Nathan grunted. Or growled. It was hard to tell which.

But it was enough to yank me out of this cycle.

"I don't know," I replied as I went back to wiping the bar. "Nathan, do you enjoy visiting strip clubs?"

In a blink, Nathan erased the scowl he'd been wearing since Shawn walked in. He glanced between us both. "I do not."

Was it messed up that I was relieved?

Or was I stupid for believing him in the first place?

"See? Liar." Shawn seemed to echo my thoughts as he pointed a thumb toward Nathan. "Or gay, maybe. Whatever spins your wheels, my man."

"I'm neither," Nathan said through his teeth. "I've just never needed to pay women to put their bodies on display for me."

"Nathan's a doctor," I added, though I couldn't have said why.

Maybe it was just to make Shawn feel less than since he was so good at doing the same thing to me. You want to call me stupid? Well, here's a smart-as-fuck guy who thinks I'm smart too.

Shawn gave Nathan another once-over, then turned back to me. "Whatever. Besides, it didn't mean nothing. You know that."

"It meant something to me," I snapped back. "We said we were exclusive. Pawing girls named after cocktails is not included in that arrangement. That is why we had to break up for the thousandth time."

At that, the cocky smile on Shawn's face finally disappeared as he leaned across the bar, clearly wanting me to come closer. Or maybe run far, far away. I could never decide which when it came to him.

I stepped back again, and when I did, he smiled like he'd planned it all the time. Dammit.

It didn't help that Nathan was looking at Shawn like he wanted to flat-out murder him. Or that I found the expression annoyingly hot. What was wrong with me?

"I don't remember no break up, Sunshine," Shawn said in a low voice meant only for me. "I don't remember a single fucking word about it."

I couldn't help the way the hair on the back of my neck stood up at the sound of that low growl. Or the way that nickname, Sunshine, called to me while at the same time made me want to leave this city and never look back.

How could one person make me feel so many things at once? One look from Shawn, and suddenly, I was at war with myself all over again.

"That's only because you wouldn't take any of my calls or texts," I mumbled. "You disappeared, just like you always do when you screw up."

"But that's just how we roll, baby. We're free spirits, you and me. We never could be tied down, and that's why we worked. It's why I'm always gonna be your man, too. Isn't that right?"

I chewed on my lower lip. Say no, I told myself. Tell him he's wrong. Tell him to leave. Tell him he's not your man.

Nathan was still watching us carefully. Mostly me now. Mostly like he was waiting for something too.

"Can I get a Tito's and tonic?"

I welcomed the distraction of another customer. Even welcomed her, pointing out when I poured Sprite instead of tonic. Twice. It kept me from looking at Shawn's leering face. Or seeing the disappointment that must have been scrawled all over Nathan's.

"Damn, you look good now that you're out of that brace and shit," Shawn said when I turned around after the woman had left with her drink. "Fuck, real good, baby. That shirt is fire. Looks even better on the bedroom floor, though."

I glanced down at the clingy black top that wasn't anything special but seemed to get me a fair amount of attention. The jeans too—the second-skin 501s I'd found at a thrift shop. It was a look straight out of a nineties Calvin Klein ad. Something that was last popular before I was even born. But a classic was a classic.

After all, it had kept Shawn looking at me like that for over a decade, hadn't it?

I just wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

I turned to find Nathan studying the list I'd made earlier. Was he taking notes? Looking to see if I'd included shallow compliments like that?

I wanted to tell him not to listen to Shawn. That, as nice as it felt to hear men say I was pretty, it was the same shit I'd been hearing since I was a kid and pretty much all I'd heard since. I was finally starting to value the idea that someone might actually want me for something else. Maybe even believe it.

And he'd done that over an awkward meal and some untouched drinks.

Suddenly, Nathan stood. His stool screeched on the battered wood floor loud enough that both Shawn and I jumped.

"Jesus, guy," Shawn said. "Give a warning, why don't you?"

Nathan ignored him. "I'm going home," he told me. "I'll see you?—"

I cut him off with a subtle shake of my head. The last thing I needed was Shawn figuring out where I lived. Who I lived with.

Well, maybe not the last thing. That was still a threat. And he was thankfully busy on his phone.

"Um, hold on. Let me close you out," I said.

He waited, obviously confused, as I went to the cash register, and after a quick glance to make sure Shawn still wasn't watching, jotted a quick message on a piece of blank receipt paper.

Please stay til he leeves.

I knew the spelling wasn't right, but I didn't have time to check it on my phone.

"Here's your check," I said loudly as I placed the note, folded like a tent, in front of Nathan. "Unless you want something else."

Nathan opened the receipt, frowned immediately as he read it, then darted another worried glance at Shawn before shoving it in his pocket and immediately returning to his stool.

I hadn't realized how fast my heart was beating until it finally slowed down.

Safe. That's how Nathan made me feel.

I also hadn't known that until now.

"Actually, I'll have another drink," he said. "My regular."

I offered a grateful look and nodded my thanks before turning to pour him a glass of scotch I knew he wouldn't even drink.

"I'll have one too, baby," Shawn said as he set his phone down. "Same as four-eyes right here. You don't mind a little joke, do you, guy?"

I sighed but poured two of the same drinks.

Nathan stared at his, while Shawn took a long, noisy slurp. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"No, thank you," I murmured back. I hoped he knew what I meant by it.

"Yeaaaaah," Shawn crowed after downing nearly half the very expensive scotch. "That's the good stuff. Only Macallan for me."

"You can close me out," Nathan said again. "Um, again, I suppose."

With a small smile, I took his credit card. Shawn, however, did not offer any form of payment. I waited. And waited.

He sipped on his drink and just smiled wide enough to show two of his fillings.

I sighed. Tom was at the other end of the bar, clearly watching the whole episode and distinctly making sure I wasn't about to comp his nicest liquor to one of my admirers. And I wasn't, either. I made that mistake on my very first night. Ended up spending my whole paycheck in an hour.

"I—do you want to—it's about?—"

God, I hated the way he made me stumble over my words, like I was ten again, struggling to read in front of my class. I barely did this anymore. Not even when customers had me check the math on their tab.

"Spit it out, Sunshine," Shawn said with another knowing grin. "You know I hate it when you stutter."

My face burned. "I?—"

"I don't mind it."

We both turned to Nathan, who was swirling his drink meditatively.

"A stutter," he clarified. "It doesn't bother me at all."

His chocolatey eyes were so open and kind, and I wanted to dive into them just to escape this horrible bar. This horrible person beside him.

Again, however, I shook my head with a silent message. Don't.

Nathan's brow crinkled slightly, but he didn't say anything more.

"The drink, Shawn," I mumbled. "It's—it's expensive, so I can't c-comp you. My, um, boss is right there, and he'll dock my wages."

Shawn looked over at Tom, then rolled his eyes. "Is that all? Fine, what do I owe you? Twenty?"

I sighed again. It was just like him. Play the nice guy but take advantage where he could. Shawn always loved a good "connection."

"It's a hundred dollars a pour," Nathan supplied. "One twenty with tip."

Shawn turned, and his gaze took in Nathan's arms and shoulders, and I enjoyed the way it kept going up several inches as if he only just realized how big Nathan really was.

I took particular pleasure in the fact that, after their eyes met, Shawn looked away first.

"Thanks," he said stiffly. "But Joni's my girl. She'll hook me up."

Nathan turned back to me, his expression sharper now. "That's right. He's your boyfriend."

"It's complicated," I murmured. I didn't know what else to say.

"That's one way to put it." Shawn chuckled like I'd just said something funny.

Nathan looked like he wanted to take him by the collar and throw him out of the bar.

"The-the scotch?" I continued sputtering like a broken speed boat. "It is, um, actually really expensive, like Nathan said—so I can't give you a discount, see, and?—?"

God, why was everything out of my mouth suddenly a question?

"Joni."

I turned toward Nathan's deep voice, calm and velvety. He nodded toward the card in my hand.

"Just add it to my tab," he said. "I don't want it to come out of your wages."

I blinked. "How did you know that it would…"

"You just mentioned it," he replied, then tapped a finger on the pocket of his scrubs, where he'd tucked the list. "And you told me before. ‘Listen, even if you think it doesn't matter,' right?"

Shawn glanced between us like we were engaged in a tennis match. When his gaze landed back on Nathan, he was scowling.

Crap.

"I got it," he said as he extracted a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet. He set it on the bar top and slid it toward me. "There you go, baby. You know I'll always take care of you." Then, as if he was bored of the whole conversation, Shawn downed the rest of the drink like water and then stood up, smacking his lips. "Well, as much as I want to sit here wasting the night away, some of us have to work in the morning."

He leaned across the bar to grab my wrist and tug me as close as I could come with the barrier between us. I didn't dare twist away. Part of me didn't actually want to as the scent of his, the blend of Sauvage cologne, scotch, and a hint of tobacco, slithered around me like it was a chain around my body, locking it up tight.

But another part of me froze as he pressed a loud kiss to my closed, unmoving mouth. I didn't even move as he squeezed my ass. Couldn't until he'd stepped fully away, having marked me as his for everyone—for Nathan—to see.

I wrapped my arms around my waist as a sudden chill swept over me. Wrong. Everything about Shawn felt so…wrong in a way he never had before. Even when I was so mad at him I could spit, his touch had never made me shrivel like this.

Nathan still hadn't moved.

I didn't dare look at him.

"I'll call you," Shawn said as he pulled on his jacket. "We'll make up right next week. I promise."

I prayed he'd break that promise, just like so many others. Unfortunately, I had a feeling he wouldn't. He never did in the beginning.

"See you, Sunshine," Shawn called, then grabbed his coat and wove his way around the remaining bar patrons.

Nathan and I both watched until the door had closed behind him, leaving us in the bar with the few remaining customers as Tom switched on the music for last call.

Eventually, though, I managed to exhale. And finally met Nathan's eye.

"I think he is your boyfriend," he said. "Not was."

I deflated like a balloon. "I'll explain at home. I promise."

Nathan's gaze was hard and searching. "Yeah, I think you'd better."