Blame it on the shame Part 2

Chapter 29 (Ricardo)

 

"I love you, sugarplum."

Jackson and I exchange a glance.

"I promise I'll call you later, sugarplum," Tyrone continues. "I've missed you so much. I can't wait to see you, sugarplum."

"So help me God, if he says sugarplum one more time," I say under my breath.

I'm happy for Tyrone—despite the fucked up state my own heart is in...but enough is enough already.

Jackson pinches the bridge of his nose and grunts. Misery loves company and considering we've been each others for the last few months, I know he's just as fed up with Tyrone's 'sugarplum' crap as I am.

I'm almost positive he's doing it on purpose as a way of getting under our skin—in hopes it will force us to talk to our exes. Too bad for him, it's having the opposite effect.

Besides, Lou-Lou and I were never that sappy with one another. And if by chance we ever were? It definitely wasn't in front of anyone. We kept our sappy shit behind closed doors.

Because we had to. Because she was never actually mine.

I slam my beer down on the table and curse.

Countless 'sugarplum's' later, Tyrone finally gets off the phone.

Although as soon as he turns around and makes a face at us, I wish he'd get right back on it.

I look at Jackson and his expression matches mine. We both know what's coming and neither of us feels like dealing with it.

Especially me. Especially tonight.

Tonight she'll be back in her apartment...after two nights of doing things I have to force myself not to think about because I'll go on a fucking rampage.

"Guys," Tyrone starts. "Y'all could be just as happy as I am if you would both stop being so stubborn."

Jackson grunts again and I reach for my beer.

He points to me first. "You going out and screwing anything in a skirt night after night isn't helping you. You need to walk down the hall and talk to Lou-Lou. I don't care what you say, man...she meant more to you than you're letting on."

My breath freezes in my lungs. She meant everything to me.

When I don't respond, he starts in on Jackson and I fight like hell not to let my thoughts drift back to her.

But drift back to her they do. They always fucking do.

Her big doe eyes, perfect lips, feisty attitude...the way it felt to be deep inside of her.

And the worst memory of all—the way she crushed my heart and turned it into fucking dust the moment she married my father and agreed to plot my death.

I'll never understand what I did to deserve all that from her. There was a time I would have bet my own life that she actually loved me.

I felt it.

I chug the rest of my beer. It doesn't matter what I felt...it was all one big fat lie.

And I'm the chump who fell for it...fell for her. Just like he wanted me to.

Fu

Hell, if it wasn't for Jackson and Tyrone's friendship...I'd have no lifeline to keep me from going under.

It's also the only thing keeping me from going after him.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Jackson roars, bringing me out of my thoughts.

Looks like Tyrone pushed him to his limit.

Tyrone stops talking and I can't help but laugh because I see the determined look in his eyes. He's just getting started.

Just like I predicted, Tyrone claps his hands. "Okay, this is progress. Let it out. Jackson, why don't you start first. How did it make you feel when Alyssa hurt you?"

Like swallowing shards of glass that were lit on fire. How the hell does he think it felt?

I know damn well Jackson's not going to talk 'feelings' with Tyrone. At least, not about the ones pertaining to Alyssa hurting him. I look at him and smirk. "You go

He gets up from the couch. "Fuck no. Let's grab a drink." He looks at Tyrone. "Feel free to stay back and watch some more Doctor Phil."

"And bake some cookies while you're at it, sugarplum," I add, because giving him shit is so much better than his version of therapy.

Tyrone gives us the finger. "Fuck you both. I was only trying to help."

Jackson tosses him his jacket. "If you wa

I grab my phone and pull up the address to a bar I overheard a few guys talking about at the gym. Or rather, the bartender they were talking about.

Maybe this chick's the one who can make me forget all about Lou-Lou.

Especially tonight.

"You guys down to try a new spot? It's kind of a hole in the wall, but rumor has it the bartender is easy on the eyes."

"Fine," Jackson says. "But I'm not looking for pussy. I'm just looking to drink."

I mutter a curse as I watch some dude with frosted blond tips wearing eyeliner flip a bottle in the air.

I'll do anything to help me forget about Lou-Lou for more than 10 minutes at a time...but there's just some lines I have absolutely no desire to ever cross.

The corner of Jackson's lips twitch. "Is there something you'd like to tell us, Ricardo?"

Beside him, Tyrone laughs.

"I guess I just assumed the hot bartender was a girl," I grit through my teeth.

Of course, the giant ken doll who's built like a damn linebacker chooses that exact moment to look up and wink at me.

And of-fucking-course, it only makes Tyrone laugh that much harder. "Ah. So you do think he's hot?"

I give him a look somewhere between— 'I'm going to punch you in the fucking face' and 'Are you shitting me?' as the bartender saunters over to us. "What can I get you, boys?"

I take a seat at the bar. I'm not going home with Mr. Frosted tips...but I'm sure as fuck not going home alone, either. "Are you the only one who's working tonight?" I ask. "Because there's supposed to be a hot bartender who works here."

I glance at my watch...she'll be pulling up to the apartment any moment now.

The guy looks offended and I'm about to apologize but Jackson clears his throat and says, "I think what my rude buddy means is—is there a female bartender working here?"

"A hot one," I interject while having a look around the bar. Fucking place looks like a goddamn sausage factory. Where the hell are all the women? Why are there so many dudes here tonight?

That's when it occurs to me. Holy hell, I brought them to a gay bar.

Tyrone's never going to let me live this shit down.

Jackson quickly introduces us to the bartender who's name I now know is Shane. We all watch as he flips a bottle in the air and says, "I like you, Jackson."

Jackson doesn't say a word but he looks highly uncomfortable at the moment. I return Tyrone's now shit-eating-grin as we watch Jackson try to finagle his way out of being hit on.

Shane flips another bottle in the air and winks at him. "So, you know what I'm go

Tyrone pats Jackson on the back and whispers, "I'm so glad I came here tonight. This is awesome."

Jackson shoots me a dirty look and I can't help but laugh.

Shane slams his hand down on the bar. "I'm going to introduce you to my employee," he tells Jackson.

"Come again?"

"The hot female bartender...you're interested right?"