Jessa James - Bad Behavior

“You asked what I wanted!” she says. “I want something sweet.”

I shake my head and grab the vodka, pouring it in the cocktail shaker. “You like lemonade?”

“Who doesn’t?” she asks.

I mix freshly squeezed lemon juice and a little homemade simple syrup into the tin, add a handful of ice cubes, then shake it. I pour it all into a highball glass, then top it off with a drizzle of fresh raspberry puree. I stick a straw in it, pulling a little of the concoction into the straw, and then pull the straw out for a taste.

Lemon and sugar hit my palate long before the vodka does. I wrinkle my nose at the sweetness. Perfect for her, though. When I serve it to her with a new straw, her eyes light up.

“Ooooh,” she says. “It’s pretty.”

“Yup,” I say, setting about washing my shaker out.

Emma sips the cocktail, her elbows on the bar. “This is amazing! What do you call it?”

I eye her. “The schoolgirl special,” I reply dryly.

She blushes, her cheeks turning a shade darker than her pink dress. “You’re the actual worst.”

That makes me grin. “You’d do best to remember that.”

I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes. “Thanks for the drink.”

She picks up her cocktail and walks away, hips swaying. I watch her walk away for a few seconds, my mouth a little dry.

“Seriously?” my brother Forest says, coming up beside me behind the bar. Forest is the middle brother. He’s as dressed up as I am dressed down, wearing dark slacks and a white button up. His dark hair is clipped close to his scalp, not almost-too-long and messy like mine is.

I yank my gaze away from her, glancing down at my black t-shirt and black jeans instead. Forest isn’t done, though. “There are so many hot girls here, and you’re staring at Emma? What is wrong with you?”

He’s not wrong. At thirty three, I should definitely not be looking at someone almost a decade younger than me. I clear my throat and shake my head.

“Because I’m a dirty old man. Speaking of people who are too young for us, where’s Addison tonight?” I ask, changing the subject.

He frowns and turns a little, pointing out his fiancee to me. A very thin redhead in a red silk dress, she’s in a little group of women standing by the front door.

“Right there. And she’s not too young for me. She’s very mature for her age.” He reaches into the lowboy coolers under the bar and gets a beer, popping the cap off.

“Uh huh,” I say. I lean back against the bar. “I seem to remember being invited to her twenty first birthday party last month.”

“Fuck off,” Forest says, pulling a face. He takes a sip of his beer. “You’re just jealous.”

“Of Addison? She’s so controlling, dude. That’s your thing, not mine.”

Now he really glares at me. “Again, fuck off. Also, Asher asked me to remind you to keep everybody hydrated. Nobody wants to see Jenna toss her cookies during the wedding procession tomorrow.”

I glance over at Jenna, and see her pantomiming something that looks an awful lot like sucking a huge dick. Everyone around her laughs, and she knocks back another glass of pink bubbles.

A sense of loathing rises in me. Really, Asher? I think. That’s who you’re going to tie yourself to for the rest of your life?

Forest laughs at my expression and claps me on the shoulder. “You have got to learn to mask your expressions better, J.”

“I just don’t see what Asher sees in her,” I lament.

“And yet, here you are, working their rehearsal dinner reception,” Forest says. I see Addison turn her head, looking for Forest. He sees it too, and sighs. “Alright. I’ve gotta get back to the conversation. Don’t forget the water, though.”

“Yeah,” I say to his back as he heads over to his fiancee’s side. “Right.”

I think about the cases of bottled water that we have. I’d have to go upstairs to get them, up the creaky ass stairs and into the dusty little stock room, but then people would be able to take them to go. I head into the private back room that doubles as an office, and then up the stairs.

Grabbing two cases of water, I head back down. Except this time when I get back into the office, I am not alone.

Jenna is there, dressed in a white silk gown, and she is drunk off her ass. “Heyyyyy, there you are,” she purrs.

I raise my brows. “You’re looking for me?”

“Yeah,” she says, coming closer. I can actually smell the wine on her breath, which is saying something, since wine usually isn’t that strong. She staggers a little. “I want you to help me with my dress.”

“Okay, hold on,” I say, setting the waters on the desk. “Don’t you want Asher to help you?”

“No!” she yells, turning around. Jesus, she’s really drunk. She pulls her blonde hair over her shoulder. I look at her back, and I can see that her dress has split in a couple of places along the back zipper. “He can’t see me like this!”

“Okay…” I say, frowning. “I don’t know that I can fix it, though.”

She starts unzipping the dress, stumbling over her own feet. “Get it off!”

“Just wait a second—” I start. She trips and starts to fall.

“Wha—” she begins to wail.

Hatred or no, I step forward and try to catch her. It’s just ingrained in me, like muscle memory. I grab her, whipping her around.

Jenna, drunk as she is, starts laughing, blowing her wine breath in my face. Her lipstick is bright red, and smeared a little on her bottom lip. “You caught me!”

“Yeah, all right—” I say, trying to get her to stand up. “Seriously, Jenna…”

I see her brown eyes flick down to my mouth. I realize half a second before she kisses me what she’s about to do. Her face zooms toward mine, her eyes half-closed.

“Jenna, what the fuck are you doing?” I ask, genuinely perplexed.

I manage to grab her by the shoulders and hold her back, but that just makes her laugh deliriously.

“You think I haven’t seen you looking?” she says. “I know you’ve been watching me. You all have.”

“What? I—”

She grabs my dick through my jeans, which makes me reflexively crumple inward. “Get the fuck off of me!”

Then she goes in for the kill while I’m completely off balance. She kisses me, groaning obscenely.

Which is the perfect moment for Asher to walk in.

“What the fuck?” he says, aghast. “Jenna? Jameson? What the fuck!”

I manage to push Jenna off, wiping at my mouth. I turn to Asher. “She jumped me.”

Wham! I almost don’t see his punch coming. He put his whole body into it, though. Asher’s almost my height, and bulkier than I am. His punch lands on my lower lip, which is more surprising than anything.

It knocks me back a few steps. I’m stunned. I feel a trickle of blood seep out of my mouth. “What the fuck?” I ask, touching my lip.

“You fucking prick!” he screams.

“I’m not the one you should be yelling at, dude!” I point to Jenna, who has started laughing uncontrollably.

“You’re both such pieces of shit!” she declares. “Fuck you both.”

Asher flushes a deep red. He wasn’t expecting that, I guess. He turns and storms out of the back room.

I’m right on his heels. He lets out a bellow as he reaches the bar, and he sweeps a tray of champagne flutes off the bar top to the floor. The whole party comes to a halt, though the music continues.

“This wedding is off!” Asher yells, making a beeline for the front door.

“Asher—” I try, but he pushes open the door and disappears.

I take a breath, and realize that every single person in the bar is staring right at me. Not to be outdone, Jenna stumbles out of the back room and promptly throws up everywhere. Her dress is split down the back and barely covering the essentials, which only makes her seem more pathetic.