AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His eyes cut to the dancefloor and then back to me. “Not if it was the last drink on earth.”
I bet Mercy told him to stop drinking. They have that vibe. “I have water too.”
“Yeah, okay, fine.” He sits and downs half the bottle. “You look like a creeper, lurking over here in the shadows, giving drinks away. Just sayin’.”
I shrug. Don’t really care what he thinks. “Get it all out, Leslie. Tell me how I should stop bein’ such a dick to your friend.”
“Nah. I think he likes that part, to be honest. Casey’s kind of a dick, or, well, he’s not actually, but that’s how people perceive him because he’s blunt and says what’s on his mind. He doesn’t have to hold back with you and it’s a relief for him.”
Interesting. “Then what do you want to say to me?” There’s something. Jack’s easy to read. A “wears his heart on his sleeve” kind of guy.
“Look, I’m low-key in favor of you two. Don’t let that get to your head. Part of me wants to tell you to hit the bricks, but Casey’s my bestie and he’s …”
“What?” I pry. I can see in Jack’s dizzy eyes that he’s had enough to drink to have looser lips.
“Casey’s a happy-go-lucky guy because his brother made sure of it,” Jack says.
Don’t know that I’d use the phrase “happy-go-lucky” for the guy always trying to beat the shit out of me, but I know what he means. Casey’s generally optimistic.
“Mhm.” I take another sip of my cran and soda.
“When the brothers went through some shit, Stacey didn’t let the demons in. Casey’s demons. They were knocking at the door, but Stacey made sure they never got in. From what I can tell, Stacey did such a good job that Casey doesn’t know why he needswhat he needs. His needs are always met. If you can’t meet his needs, Sutter, stay away from him.”
“Um, you gonna tell me what those needs are?”
“I mean, there are a few, but there are three main ones. Come a little closer.” He puts his hand on my bulky shoulder. I lean in.Smack!Pain blooms across my cheek. Jack laughs his ass off. “Not telling. You gotta figure that shit out yourself or you’re not worth it.”
I glare daggers at him and plot my revenge next time we’re on the ice, but I did kinda walk into that one. Jack leaves before I kill him, and I’m alone again to ruminate. That was a little too much like The Ghosts of Christmas—the drunken version—for my liking, being visited by Casey’s loved ones one by one.Past. Present. Future.
At least I got the information I was looking for, but how do you figure out the needs of a guy who doesn’t even know his own needs? Plus, wasn’t planning for it to get this deep. All I wanted to know was enough to not piss him off—as much—so I wouldn’t be deprived of his ass. Knowing I’m not forgotten bolsters me, though, and I’m a fix-it, problem-solving kind of guy, so naturally I want to solve the puzzle Jack presented me with.
Everyone’s on the dancefloor again, which means more bumping and grinding, and my fists clenching, begging to be used to punch the faces of all Casey’s friends because they’ve got their hands all over him. If one friend is pulled away from him, another takes their place. But it’s when Stacey nudges Dash toward an unpaired Casey that it hits me.
Physical affection.
That’s a big one for Casey. Now that I see it, the way everyone ensures he has what he needs, it’s obvious. It’s the new thing preventing me from storming onto the dancefloor and pullinghim away from them. Though, maybe it should be me—and only me—giving him that kind of physical affection.
Dirk, Mercy, and Stacey drag sloppy drunk Casey, Jack, and Dash off the floor.
“Aw, c’mon, Merc. One more song,” Jack whines.
“No. We have a baby that’ll need us tomorrow. Remember him?”
“’Course, I do. He’s safe with Bea and Trish, though, so we’d better get to do it a few times when we get home.”
“Jack, inside voice. Jesus, baby.” But Merc kisses him and doesn’t seem too bothered by his TMI.
I’m glad they’ve finally decided to leave on their own. I was about to drag Casey off the floor and make him go home, but this is easier. I take a final sip of my cran and soda.
Casey chuckles. “Better get the last drop of your—” He trips, and I prepare to catch him, but his drunken stumble sends him into another drunken patron.
“Hey, watch it, man,” he says, giving Casey a little push.
Shit.
Alderchuck isn’t reasonable in the best of times. He’s like a rabid golden retriever.
“Motherfucker.” Casey’s hands plant onto his chest and he knocks him into the sea of people. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That guy and several more drunken idiots like him, scramble up from the floor, hell-bent on exterminating the source of the problem.
