My mouth drops open as I watch him turn and leave the restaurant. I can’t believe that asshole just left me stranded here. Max was right. I’m beginning to question my own judgment on what I ever saw in that guy.

The petite, blonde waitress approaches the table. “Would you like to order your drinks now, or are we waiting on someone else?”

I dig in my purse and hand her my fake ID. “It’s just me, and I would like to start with something from the bar.”

TRIP

The way Holly tore out of here made my heart sink. I know her goal is getting Jackson back, and I’m a dumbass for beginning to care about a girl who loves someone else, but I wish she would reconsider that asshole. The idea that he could be kissing those sweet lips of hers right now makes my blood boil. I’ve tasted those lips, and all I’ve done over the past week is thought about doing it again.

I stab the steak in front of me with my fork and vigorously begin cutting it, while picturing Jackson’s smug face.

“Whoa. What did that thing ever do to you?” Max asks.

I shrug. “Nothing. I was just thinking.”

“About Holly and Jackson,” Max prods before taking a bite.

My eyes flick to his, but I don’t answer. I don’t need him knowing my business.

Max takes a drink of water and then sets his glass down. “I never did like the guy.”

“Why?” I ask and then take another bite before glancing over at Bill, who is still asleep in the recliner. “I thought you all were friends or something.”

“Or something…” Max says. “Jackson Cruze is a narrow-minded homophobe who talks with his fists.”

“You two have gotten into it before?”

Max nods. “Oh, yeah, many times.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And Holly stayed with him. I thought girl-code was if the boyfriend and the best friend didn’t get along, the guy didn’t last long.”

Max shrugs. “I never told her.”

“Why not?”

“I might be gay, Trip, but I still have pride like any other man. I don’t want everyone to know I get my ass beat every time I turn around, especially not my female best friend who treats me more like a man than most people around here do.”

“I thought no one knows your…sexual orientation.”

“I’ve never officially come out if that’s what you mean, but people have speculated for a long time now.”

I take a deep breath. “You still should’ve told Holly what a dick Jackson has been to you.”

He shakes his head. “I wanted her to open her eyes to what an asshole he is on her own. Holly is hard-headed, and if I’d tried to tell her things about Jackson that she wasn’t ready to hear, she wouldn’t have believed them. She’s the kind of girl that has to see things with her own eyes. Like that old saying goes, love is blind.”

“So I’ve heard.” I swallow down the last bite of my food and lean back in the chair, thinking about all the crazy shit Black Falcon has been through with Noel and Riff and all their women bullshit. Those two guys never listen to my advice in the matters of the heart. It’s like they’re too caught up in their own drama to see reason.

Max’s cell vibrates against the table, and I can clearly see Holly’s name across the caller ID. I pick up the phone without asking his permission and answer, swatting his hand away. “How’s your date?”

“Trip? Why are you answering Max’s phone?” The confusion in her voice rings clear.

“We’re here enjoying these delicious steaks you ran out on. Where are you?” She sniffs into the phone and I realize she’s crying. I stiffen in my chair. “What’s wrong? Did Jackson hurt you?”

My hand tightens around the phone at the exact moment Max pushes away from the table and heads out the door. I watch through the window as he gets into his car and tears out of the driveway. I probably should ask where he’s going, but whatever it is, it’s his business.

“No. He didn’t hurt me, but he left me here at Paulo’s. Can you ask Max to come and get me?”

My heart pounds in my chest. The thought of Holly being alone and stranded hits me hard. Bad things can happen to women left alone in a vulnerable state. The next time I see Jackson, he’s a dead man. “I’ll come and get you. Stay put inside the restaurant,” I order.

“Okay,” she agrees before she disconnects the phone.

I lay Max’s phone on the table and search my own out of my pocket. I look up the restaurant’s address in my phone and then plug it into my phone’s GPS. Two minutes later I’m on the road, following the digital voice’s directions.

I pull up to Paulo’s and cut the engine. The little Mexican joint is hoping with a party inside. A DJ in the corner both spins the top pop hit of the week, and bodies pack the small dance floor.

Jackson brought her here to discuss track business? He obviously doesn’t really give a shit about Mountain Time. What a fucking douchebag.

I weave in and out of the bodies until I spot Holly alone at a corner table for two, sipping on a drink. There’s a deep frown on her face while she watches everyone around her. She sticks out sitting there all alone in a room full of people having a good time and I get the sudden urge to lift her sprits.

The second I reach her table the song Smooth by Santana plays over the speakers and I think back to the first time I saw her and what a good time she was having that night in the bar. I’ll do anything to see that smile again.