Run to Love (Triple R Book 1) (8 page)

“I like it. How’s the ride?”

“Like ridin’ on a pillaaaah.”

Willow chuckled as she stripped her clothes off to get in the shower. “I had coffee spilt on me by that new girl, Frazier. Three times. Look at this!” She pointed to where there was a three-inch long burn down her left arm.

“Oh, my God, Willow. You’re gonna need to put something on that.”

“Yeah, I stopped off and got some burn balm and wrap. So where are we going?”

“I was at Village Point and saw Kona Grill. If we get there before five p.m., we should be able to get seating on the patio for happy hour. That sound good for a starter?”

“Damn straight! Five-dollar cosmos all around!” Willow exclaimed from the shower. “I’ll text Jace when I get out.”

“I can do it.” I snatched my phone from the counter.

Prez:
Thinking of starting at Kona Grill … good?

In my bedroom, I dressed and stood in front of the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door to do a little modeling. Loved the jeans and the top was pretty but sexy, too. Maybe I’ll break my losing streak and partake in a little horizontal fun tonight? Maybe.

I headed back into the bathroom and dried my hair as Willow exited the shower all pink-skinned from the hot water.

“Holy shit!” she bellowed.

“Now
you
owe me twenty dollars.” I shouted over the hair dryer noise, catching her eye in the mirror.

“Ha-ha,” she replied snottily. “You know what I was talking about. Looking to get some tonight?”

“Honestly, yes. I need to forget about my hot-as-blistering-coffee personal trainer. He’s going out with Emerson tonight.” My eyes rolled as my brain clouded with confusion over what he’d said about having to work. The slip was probably a cover.

Why would he feel the need to cover?

“I think.” I turned the blow-dryer off. “Anyway, I need to keep our relationship professional. I almost got him in trouble today. I almost fainted.”

Willow stopped moving to listen.

“It was nothing.” I waved away her narrowed eyes, boring into my skin.

She tipped her head at me.

I leaned back against the cabinet. “The only reason I got all worked up and out of breath was because I could smell him next to me. He smells incredible, like cherry, sandalwood and salt. Apparently it’s my Bermuda Triangle of man scents. Plus, his eyes are this amazing hazel – green and grey with gold speckles. They make me drool.” Cringing, I added, “He was watching me run. I was worried I was jiggling everywhere and forgot to breathe. Damn asthma.”

Willow ran a comb through her hair. “I think I’m repeating myself but maybe you should just find another trainer and go for it, Prez. Might be worth the effort, even if it ends up the guy isn’t the one, fun for a while is better than no fun at all. Jamal’s a great trainer. Mitch used to consult with him early on in his career. You deserve it to yourself to give whatever could be a chance. Even if it doesn’t work out, you can’t keep holding your gut in while you run … not that you have a gut! What are those jeans? A size…?”

“Eight.”

“Damn, Presley! That’s amazing! They show off that booty well. Love the shirt, too.” She softened her voice to a creepy southern belle imitation, “Very, you can look, but I’m a lady, so if you’re gonna touch, you need to ask.”

I frowned in the mirror. “Not sure the shirt speaks that much, but I liked it and thought it said, ‘I wanna get laid.’ So that was good enough for me.”

Willow left the room to get dressed, shaking her head in honest amusement.

My phone buzzed on the counter next to my perfume, reminding me to spray down with my favorite scent. I read the flashing text.

Jace:
I’ll be there early to make sure we get a seat. Hoping for some eye candy for you and for me

Prez:
Getting all done up. Be there soon.

Jace:
You are beautiful. Come as you are!

Prez:
Some of us aren’t instant beauties like you

Jace:
Ah, flattery will only get you to second base, my dear ;-)

Prez:
Wish I was your type, it would make dating a lot easier … I think

Jace:
We all have issues with striking out before we hit a home run and it’s hard to navigate the bases without getting tagged out. Experiencing the game makes us better at knowing what balls to hit and which ones to let sail by.

Prez:
Nice baseball metaphor! Can tell why you’re in marketing. LOL. Tonight we both will find, not necessarily the right one, but one that will be a home run for tonight!

Jace:
Wow, Prez! Way to say you want to get screwed on (or rather in) home plate! You go girl!

Prez:
You can’t pull off a “You go girl!” LOL

Jace:
You’re right :-). I take it back. C U soon

I finished my makeup while Willow styled my black hair into soft spiral curls. After I was all made-up she completed her makeup and hair. She was like that, putting me first, even after she said she wouldn’t. And maybe she shouldn’t.

Willow was one of those beauties where her inside beauty radiated through her skin. Her hair had gone a gamut of colors over the last few years. Right now she sported a beautiful royal purple color with streaks of lavender. She and her sister, Sierra, had bold hair color in common—that, and eyes so dark blue they affected men and women alike making them speechless, awestruck by the shimmering sapphire orbs. Willow blow-dried her hair into a messy, beachy style and gathered one side up into a fancy pin with a watercolor-blue butterfly attached. She chose a sapphire blue short-sleeved cotton shirt that showed off her elegant tattoo sleeve of a Japanese geisha holding a beautiful fan over her face on her right arm. She finished her look with torn jeans, a fitted black leather jacket and black platform heels, which added four inches to her normal five feet four inch height. Sexy and unique-looking but still approachable, that was Willow.

Kona Grill was already hopping with twenty-somethings and early thirty-somethings when we rounded the corner onto the patio. Jace chose a table near open windows that let in the cool spring breeze. Her long, straight blonde hair slipped over her shoulder as she stood to greet us. I loved her sparkling iridescent cerulean-blue eyes, and her bright white smile made me wish I’d whitened my chompers this week.

“Oh! My! God! Presley! Look at you!” Jace released every word at a decibel that guaranteed everyone in the restaurant probably
was
looking at me. I cringed from the inside out. “And that table of guys over there sure is, honey.” When she gave me a hug, her tiny body enveloped me like she was six-feet tall, when in reality even in her tall four inch heels she was probably only five feet six inches.

I noticed the table of hotties when we walked in, but none of them was even half as cute, sexy, or interesting as—

Stop it! It’s not gonna happen with him, move on.

Jace had already ordered the first round. We enjoyed appetizers and another drink and a couple of hours of talking about my achievement and general life details.

Jace had just started to tell us what happened with Taylor when a very attractive silvery blue-eyed, dirty blond-haired young man crossed the room to our table, focusing on Jace. He cleared his throat and we all scanned up his body admiring his perfectly pressed chinos and blue-as-his-eyes button-down.

“I normally don’t do this. Promise. But, I can’t help but stare at all of you beautiful ladies.” He turned to Jace. “Hi, I’m Logan Higgins. Would you mind telling me your name?”

Willow and I sent each other
the eye
. Logan was flirt-humping the wrong female, but Jace would let him know.

Jace stood, holding out her hand. “Hi, I’m Jace and these are my friends, Willow and Presley.”

Or maybe not?

“Nice to meet you, ladies.” He shook our hands. “Can I buy the next round in apology for the amount of staring I’ve been doing?”

“That would be nice. Cosmos,” Jace replied. Her bright smile lit up his face in return. “Are you with the table of hotties over there?”

He chuckled. “They’d all be racing over here if they heard you say that, but yes. The eight of us are in town for a meeting.”

“The Berkshire-Hathaway shareholders meeting?” Willow asked, and he nodded. “So, not from Omaha?”

“Only one of us, the rest are from all over the country—San Diego, Dallas, Kansas City, Phoenix, somewhere in Florida, and I’m from New York City. College frat buddies.”

That piqued my interest. No commitment or chance of running into the guy again, that could work. But after experiencing Drexel’s frat-boy ways, the frat comment was a huge turnoff.

“The Big Apple?” Jace asked. “Never been there.”

“You should visit.” Logan stepped closer to her.

“Maybe someday.”

“I have a very comfy sofa, be glad to offer it up for a visit, Jace.” Even in the busy bar, his whisper in her ear wasn’t quiet enough. Willow and I heard the comment and we both raised our eyebrows.

Way to skip the whole chase, Logan.

Jace’s eyes twinkled up at him. “Sorry, Logan, you’re super cute and have a real gift to charm, but I prefer a lot less penis on my lovers.”

Logan dipped his head back down to her ear. “Any chance you’d be willing to change your mind for the night, Jace?”

“Nope.”

“Well, can’t blame me for trying.” He straightened his posture, and they exchanged a small handshake.

“I don’t, but I still expect that round of Cosmos and if any of your friends have been gawking, they can repent with a round, too.” She winked at him to let him know she was kidding.

Logan chuckled. “God, don’t think I’ve ever been this bummed about striking out. Smart, hot body, and a spunky attitude, that’s a triple win. But really, it’s my loss. I’ll just have to settle for a good-bye hug?”

Jace nodded her acceptance. He reached around her, and she hugged his thin six foot frame like she was saying good-bye to someone she had known all her life.

“It was nice meeting you, Logan.” She backed away.

“You too, Jace. Nice meeting you ladies. Have fun tonight.”

Returning to his table, the other eye-catching guys dished Logan crap for not pulling digits. I assumed he informed them of Jace’s sexual preferences but then again maybe he didn’t. He seemed like a pretty upstanding kind of guy, plus, who knows what kind of crap those guys would pile on Logan if they found out he went for the lesbian at the table.

Three Cosmos were delivered, courtesy of Logan, and we finished the delicious concoctions faster than the first ones.

Jace stood. “You guys ready for the next bar?”

“What about sweet tart martinis at Upstream?” I suggested.

“Perfect!” Willow and Jace replied in unison.

We closed out our tab and stopped to extend a ‘thank you and good night’ to Logan and acknowledged the rest of the hottie table, but we didn’t stick around to make conversation.

Upstream Brewing Company ended up being low-key and that wasn’t what I was in the mood for. The drinks were excellent, the bartender was cute and working hard for a generous tip, but I craved excitement. Celebration.

Jace abstained from drinking. I suspected she would drive my car to wherever we ended up next, leaving her car here. Willow and I consumed a couple of martinis each. I was definitely enjoying the alcohol in my system. A bouncy buzz, not a drunken daze.

We spent a couple of hours pulling the breakup details out of Jace. A few tears trickled down her cheek and the sight broke my heart because hers was broken, too. Same story, different woman. Jace tried to pretend the breakup wasn’t that big of a deal and she claimed it wasn’t the forever kind of love, but I could tell she was more invested than she let on.

Restless to move bars, we paid our tab and stood outside in next-bar-limbo.

Jace suggested Twin Peaks next, a bar that was a cross between Coyote Ugly and Hooters.

“No!” Willow and I responded in unison.

The scenery wasn’t our thing. We had twin peaks of our own. We could see them anytime we wanted.

Jace rolled her huge blue eyes. “Fine. Willow, you pick.”

“Let me look up something.” She started some sort of search on her phone. “Yes! There is an excellent band at Two Fine Irishmen tonight.”

“I could go dancing.” I performed an alcohol-induced jig.

Jace laughed. “Me, too. Let’s go.”

Like I suspected, Jace suggested she drive. She wasn’t a real drinker and her slight body composition made her a lightweight. Plus, I suspected she planned to work tomorrow. That whole ‘loves what she does’ thing kept her busy even on the weekends.

Inside my car, oohs and ahs were showered liberally.

“It’s a loaner,” I repeated, over and over and over.

When I committed to a car—or a man—it would be for a lifetime or until significant and irreparable maintenance or damage to the car and/or the relationship before I made another change.