Knowing because yes, he’s a shameful moment from my past. Barely out of high school and so eager to please, I used to watch the team practice, sitting on the sidelines in the heat of the summer in my too-short shorts and my skimpy tank top. Tad, Ty, whatever his name is, asked me out, I accepted and ended up giving him a blowjob while in his car on our first and only date.

Not one of my proudest moments. But at the time, I cherished the attention he gave me. I was so needy, so foolish.

Of course, the jerk never called. Not that I would’ve gone out with him again. One awkward blowjob was more than enough between us, thank you very much.

“Thanks.” I smile, pretending I don’t know him. “Would you like to order something else?”

“Yeah.” He moves in close. He’s tall and broad, all muscle with dark hair buzzed short and a nasty gleam in his eyes. I step back and he grabs my arm, holding me close to him. Dipping his head, his mouth is next to my ear as he asks, “How about another blowjob later tonight?”

I pull out of his grip, anger blazing through me so strong my body’s shaking. “Fuck off,” I mutter and turn away from him, his gritty laughter following me as I push through the throng of well-muscled athletes that crowd the room.

All the while I’m trying my best to avoid Drew. I can feel his eyes on me. I know he sees me, is watching me, and I don’t want to approach him. What do I say? What would I do? I both want to throw myself into his arms and throw a right hook into his perfect square jaw.

He asks me to rescue him and then he ditches me. Tells me he loves me in a note and never replies to my calls or texts. He’s a jerk.

He’s an asshole.

I’m in love with a jerky as**ole and damn, that’s painful to admit.

Gathering my bearings, I take orders, clear empty bottles and glasses and lollygag enough in the hopes that I won’t make it to the back left corner. I finally flee the stifling room minutes later, leaning against the wall for a few seconds, desperate to catch my breath.

I didn’t expect this yet I did. I thought I could handle seeing him and I can’t.

This situation I’m in is hopeless. I hate that he didn’t approach me and I’m so thankful he didn’t. I probably would’ve done something really stupid. Like beg him to tell me why.

That’s all that keeps running through my head as I stand at the bar minutes later, waiting for my orders to be filled. Why did he leave me? Why didn’t he ever call me back? Why didn’t he text me? That was the absolute least he could’ve done. Text me back a simple we’re done. I would’ve let him go. I would’ve been hurt, angry, sad, but I could’ve handled it.

Way better than how he actually did treat me. The asshole.

Why asshole? That might be a fun way to confront him. But knowing Drew, he’d run.

He’s real good at that. Running.

I take my full tray of drinks back into the party room, the anxious nerves running through me making my knees shake. They guys are even rowdier than when I left them only minutes before, giving me an endless bunch of grief, talking dirty, talking loud. They’re keeping a running tab, Logan’s parents arranged the party since they’re bazillionaires who live in Marin County and I bet they’re going to end up spending about two months of my wages tonight in a matter of hours.

Crazy.

“So, Fable.” It’s Ty again. I heard someone call him that, not Tad. Nice that he made such an impression I can’t even remember his name. “I promised Logan you would give him a special birthday present.”

I roll my eyes, offering a sweet smile to the birthday boy. I’m not about to insult him. His parents are spending the big bucks so he can celebrate like a drunken frat jock. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Ty.”

Logan laughs, his gaze never leaving me. He’s wobbling on his feet, his eyes are bloodshot and I know he’s good and drunk. No surprise, though, since he just turned twenty-one. This sort of drunken evening celebrating a twenty-first birthday is a ritual in these parts.

“I told him I’m sure I could arrange a blowjob just for him.” Ty smiles, though it never reaches his eyes. “From you.”

My smile fades, replaced by a scowl. I want to sock this as**ole in his smug face but I restrain myself. I’ve worked here a week. I can’t screw this up. The tips, the money in general is too good. And this place is way classier than La Salle’s.

But still full of drunk jerks. I can’t escape them no matter how hard I try.

“Very funny,” I say, trying to keep it light. I turn away from them, ready to gather more discarded glasses and bottles, but Ty reaches out and grabs my arm. Again. Stopping me in my tracks.

I glare at him over my shoulder and tug. “Let go of me.”

“Say you’ll do it.” His voice is firm, his gaze like ice. “Say you’ll give Logan a blowjob. It’s his birthday. A hummer is the least you can give him.”

“No.” I try to escape his grip but it’s like a vise. “Get your hands off me.”

“Not until you swear you’ll give him a BJ. Come on. Not like you haven’t given it up practically to the entire team.” His voice is firm as he steps closer to me. “Say it, Fable. Say you’ll do it.”

My knee twitches. I want to slam in the balls with it. I can’t believe he’s talking to me like this. Looking at me like he wants to—ick, I don’t know. Tear me apart. What a pervert.

“Ty, let her go,” Logan says, his voice timid.

“Shut up.” Ty never looks away from me and he pulls me even closer, though my feet drag, making me stumble. I so don’t want to be close to this guy. He gives me the creeps. “Stop pretending you’re a good little girl, Fable. You know all about getting on your knees and sucking cock, am I right?”

His words offend the hell out of me and I part my lips, ready to read him the riot act when all of a sudden, all the hairs on my body are standing on end. I’m hyperaware someone is behind me. I can feel his warmth, his strength. Smell him. Clean and fresh and so deliciously….Drew.

“Let her go, Ty, before I break every f**king bone in your body.” His voice is low, menacing. I wouldn’t f**k with him if he sounded like that to me. Anger makes his deep voice vibrate and a shiver slithers down my spine. “Show the lady some respect.”

Ty releases me with a little shove. Shaking his head, he laughs, though he doesn’t sound amused. Pissed is more like it. “Like this whore is a lady. And since when the hell do you care about chicks, Callahan? I always wondered if you preferred dick.”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Logan starts and Ty glares at him.

I inhale on a sharp breath, my entire body tingling when Drew settles his hand low on my back so he can guide me out of his way.

And lunges straight toward Ty.

“Drew, no!” I shout as I leap back from the fray. One second everyone is having a good time, the next there’s a damn riot.

All the guys run toward Drew and Ty, who are struggling to get that first punch in. I grab hold of a belt loop on Drew’s jeans and tug, screaming at him to stop, and finally he glances up, his beautiful—and wild—blue eyes meeting mine.

“Stop,” I repeat, desperate to keep my voice calm. “Please. Before you get in trouble.”

He pushes Ty away from him and stands, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. His gaze locks on me, anger radiating from him in tangible waves, and I swallow hard, trying my best to keep my composure.

But damn, Drew Callahan is hot when he’s mad.

“He called you a whore,” he mutters, the fury in his eyes igniting to full-on flame. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this angry.

“Lots of guys call me a whore,” I say, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. It’s true and I hate it, but I’ve made my own whorish bed and on occasion, I have to lie in it.

“I won’t f**king stand for it, Fable.” Hearing him say my name sends pleasure washing through me, leaving me weak-kneed. I’ve missed him so bad and to have him here, standing in front of me, despite the crappy circumstances, fills me with so much happiness tears threaten to spring.

I blink them back, feeling infinitely stupid.

“I don’t need a knight in shining armor.” Funny that’s the second reference tonight to noble knights. And I’m lying. I do need someone to come and rescue me. I still want it to be him.

Drew.

“Right. Of course you don’t. You’re stronger than the rest of us, right? Sure as hell stronger than me.” He turns away and leaves me without another word. I stare, gaping at his retreating back, wondering what the hell spurred that comment on. What did I do to deserve his anger? Isn’t he the one who ditched me?

I refuse to feel guilty. I refuse to chase after him and ask him why. Ask him if he’s okay. Ask him if he’s still talking to that horrendous bitch who f**ked up his head so thoroughly.

Furious, I grab my empty tray and gather beer bottles, stacking them onto the tray until they’re rolling back and forth, clanking against one another. Jen finally enters the room, oblivious to the ruckus that just played out only minutes earlier, and I smile in relief when she approaches.

“Why is it so quiet in here?” she asks.

“A couple of them almost got into a fight.” I decided not to mention the fight was about me.

Jen rolls her eyes and starts to help me clear the tables. “Figures. Get a bunch of testosterone-laden men in close proximity and watch them beat their chests until they prove who’s the mightiest of them all.”

I don’t answer, continue to clean up and then stalk out of the room toward the bar, where I dump everything in the trash, the bottles again clanking together so loudly the sound satisfies me immensely. Irritation makes me want growl at anyone who so much as looks in my direction.

Shit. I’m dying for a smoke.

“What’s your problem?” T appears out of nowhere, startling me.

“Uh…” I don’t know what to say. Don’t want to bitch for fear of looking like I can’t handle my job. Don’t want to tell her what happened either since she might ask me why they were fighting and how I became involved.

So instead, I shrug. “Men suck.”

Well. That’s close enough to the truth.

Her expression changes to pure sympathy. “Yeah, they do. Listen. Go cool off for a few. You look ready to blow a gasket.”

“But I just took a break—”

“I’ll cover for you. You’ve got five minutes.” T smiles, pats my arm and heads for the private party room.

And I dart outside for that much needed smoke.

Chapter Five

None of your scars can make me love you less. – Unknown

Drew

She’s gone. One minute she’s in the same f**king room as me, breathing the same air, and then Ty Webster has to act like a disgusting pig and insult her. The girl I love. The girl who I haven’t been with in so long, just seeing her steals my breath and hurts my heart.

So I did what any guy would’ve done to defend his girl. I went after Ty. Was ready to beat the shit out of him too, until all my teammates came at us to break us up. And Fable. Staring at me, grabbing me and trying to pull me off of him. I let her. I looked her right in the eyes and listened to her soft pleas. I left Ty alone all for her.

I would’ve also kicked his ass for her. Even though she’s not really my girl anymore.

And whose fault is that?

“Dude, you need to go apologize to Ty.” Logan is in my face, looking a little more sober. I think the argument sobered up a lot of us. “I can’t have my friends fighting on my birthday.”

“Tell him to apologize to Fable and then we’ll talk.” I shake my head, my earlier buzz gone, gone, gone. Which sucks, because it helped me forget, even for a little while.

But then she had to walk into the room. Beautiful and sexy, and everything I’ve ever wanted. Something was a little off about her appearance, though. She looked like my Fable yet…she didn’t.

“Who the hell is Fable?” Logan frowns.

“The waitress he called a whore.” I can barely get the word out I’m so pissed.

Logan sighed. “You know how he is. Chicks don’t mean shit to him.”

“Yeah, well, he needs to learn some respect.” Before I’m tempted to go back and finish what I started with Ty, I leave the room, head down the narrow hall, where I spot a door that leads outside to the back of the restaurant. I need to cool off. Get my head back together. Maybe just flat-out bail.

I’m sure no one wants me around anymore. I tried to start a fight with one of my teammates over a girl they all consider a whore, and that kills me. Bros before hos and all that other bullshit.

No matter that we’re not really together anymore, Fable will always come first.

I push open the door and find myself in a narrow alley. The unmistakable scent of cigarette smoke lingers in the air and I glance to my right to find her. Fable. Sitting on the edge of an overturned giant plastic crate, puffing away on a cancer stick like it’s her last salvation.

“Smoking kills, you know.” I said that to her the night of the country club dinner. The night I first kissed her, first learned her taste, how she felt beneath my hands, the breathy little sounds she makes when she’s becoming aroused.

She sends me a withering stare, accompanied by an exhale of smoke in my direction. “Then leave so you don’t have to breathe my cancerous air.”

I’m rooted to the spot. Afraid to approach her for fear she’ll tell me to f**k off, which I deserve. “I’m glad I found you. I wanted to talk to you.”