Chapter Twelve

Mikah

Our last day in Cancun came with rain... lots of it. Anything beach-related was off the table. I'd already packed for the flight home later that afternoon, attempted to tap into my book again with no use, and showered. And by showered, I mean I stood in the shower, letting hot water scold my skin as I replayed every damn second of the night before.

Hallie?

I kept sighing every time her name ran through my head. What the hell was I thinking? With my dick, clearly. And while I knew this would be a hookup linked to some major regret—since we still lived together and basically hated each other's existence—it didn't stop me from stroking my cock as I thought about our elevator ride.

It was the thong that set me off. I pulled it from my pocket as I packed away my rental suit, and the torn fabric was all it took to require a cold shower—but I didn't want to end the hard-on. I wanted to use it with her, and that was a problem. A big one.

I forced myself to stop—exactly what I didn't want to do this morning. I wanted to finish to the thought.

Now I was heading to breakfast, unsure of where her head was at this completely fucked situation we'd put ourselves in. Thankfully, the table was busting with conversations of the night before, especially when it came to Sloan and Ollie announcing they were expecting. Hallie was deep in conversation with Kit and Sloan as I took the spot beside Ollie, across from our mother.

"You look exhausted," Ollie said as I reached for the carafe of ice water. "Wasn't the point of this vacation for you to rest?"

"Thought it was to watch your ass get married."

"Mikah, language," Mom scolded.

It was nothing she hadn't heard from my mouth before, but I thought I caught Hallie snicker at my reprimanding. I sent a firm glare in her direction before clearing my throat to regain Ollie's attention. Yesterday had came and went so fast, my plan to bring up brewing was never brought up.

"I thought we could talk about Mulligan's for a few minutes."

Ollie shoveled a pile of eggs into his mouth and lifted a brow. He swallowed. "Why? This is vacation. This isn't about the menu again, is it? It's making more money that it ever has..."

"No." My head shook. "It's about the bar."

Ollie looked less than enthused to be discussing the part of the business he held no love for. If he had his way, the menu would consist of nothing but wines meant for pairing.

"I was thinking..."

But just as I began the spiel I had recited in my head no less than a thousand times, the rest of the wedding crew joined the table. Ollie's attention was lost to more congratulations on a beautiful wedding and news of a new Mulligan baby. With a heavy sigh, I reached for my water, wishing it was anything stronger. From across the table, my mother offered a closed-lip smile, one attempting reassurance that, in time, I could try sharing my ideas for the family business. This was clearly not the correct time to bring it up.

The trip was backfiring. My discussion of brewing was now on the back burner, Kit and I never got to finish our conversation of the inappropriate therapist relationship I was funding, and somehow, I'd made my roommate situation even worse. All I had to do was fuck two women and Hallie's ass would have been booted. But no, I made her one of them. I was more than happy to play this little game of nothing happened last night, but it didn't solve the issue of the apartment.

With the table ablaze in discussions I was not apart of, I silently finished my breakfast and stared out at the open ocean, watching the rain maintain an empty beach. A bummer for our last day—we were down to hours before we'd be leaving for the airport.

When Dean made some joke that made Hallie giggle, I snapped out of my daze and caught her glance with a quizzing expression. It was bold of her to sit beside him and act like nothing had happened with Sloan directly across from them. And with my unasked question, she picked up her phone, rapidly typing until my phone dinged with a text from beside me.

You owe me a pair of panties, dick.

I slid my phone into my pocket—where Hallie's shredded thong was tucked away.

I certainly did.

>><<

There was no change in the weather from Cancun to Chicago. Other than we arrived to a lightning show that had me questioning the airlines judgement on whether it was safe to fly. Kit helped me run my luggage through the front doors of Mulligan's and as far as the stairwell that led up to my apartment. Hallie had chosen to ride along with Sloan and Ollie, causing my sister to grill me with questions as to what had happened between us now to cause us to quit speaking to each other. That was a story never to be uttered.

Despite the cold rain, Mulligan's remained quite busy. Tyler was manning the bar like a pro during the dinner rush, causing me to quickly get upstairs, change, and get back to the bar to assist. And with Hallie still nowhere in sight, Kit continued her grilling down the stairs and across the restaurant floor. I couldn't get to my bar fast enough. Kit needed to know everyone's business at all times, and secrets nearly killed her.

"Is she upset with you? What did you do to her?"

I slammed down the partition before she could follow me into my sanctuary. "No."

"So she could tolerate you on the plane there, when she didn't have to, might I add, and now she wants nothing to do with you?"

"Kit, we just don't get along. That's nothing new. Living together and taking a vacation together was a lot. I needed a break from her too."

"Mikah..." Her eyes rolled, knowing better than that.

"For Christ's sake, we can take a different car home. Dare I ask why you chose to be dropped off here, when any other day you'd avoid it like the plague? Or is your therapist due to show up and assist you to your next appointment?"

Kit muttered under her breath and took a seat at the bar, tossing her carryon bag to its top. In her typical Kit-like pout, she crossed her arms like a toddler before her attention was caught by the door swinging open from behind the stage. Tyler appeared with a box of fresh towels and entered the bar as any other staff member would.

"Who are you?" Kit asked as he passed behind me.

"Tyler," I answered the rude question for him. "I needed someone to man the bar while I was gone."

"Don't you think I should know if we hire?" she asked, watching Tyler do the exact work he was hired for. He was clearly uncomfortable and trying to listen in. "I own this place too."

"Then act like it," I snipped.

Kit's attention quickly snapped back to me. She loved playing the owner card until it was time to do any of the work. While Ollie may be fine with letting her skirt by and reap the benefits; I wasn't. The purpose of the therapy was to get her acting like an adult again. That meant work.

Her face said it all... I'd struck a nerve in my little sister.

"Fine! Put me to work. What do I do?"

"Your damn job, Kit!" I turned to Tyler shaking my head before reaching for the calendar. I gave it a toss in front of her. "Those are all the bands you've been neglecting to market for the last few years. Start there. Set up some social media. Take pictures of your brother's food. Post the drink specials. It's not that hard."

She slapped the calendar and pulled it towards her before standing. "Really nailed that asshole trait from Dad, huh?"

As soon as she said it, I knew she regretted it. Her brows sank just as far as the corners of her lips. He was gone. What good did it do rehashing the past? Someone needed to treat her like the child she always was. Kit was fragile, but she also milked it. I stood my ground, refusing to lose her eye contact until she stomped off like her own toddler would. I shut my eyes, inhaling and exhaling a heavy breath before turning to Tyler and apologizing immensely for his boss' behavior.

"She's not always like that," I lied. "She's also rarely here. So don't worry about it. Ollie and I manage the new hires. Unless you fuck up epically, you're job is safe. Especially after you managed the bar all week."

"No worries," he muttered, clearly worried as he watched the youngest Mulligan leave through the front door. "We uh, we are low on stir sticks. Supply chain issue. I didn't know where you want to order from."

"I've got it. Not the first time."

I pulled my phone from my back pocket, Hallie entered the restaurant and vanished behind the door that led to our apartment with a suitcase in one hand and her laptop in another. I caught her eyes for only a second and it was enough to white knuckle my phone. This was more than complicated now.

I shook off whatever that moment was and opened my browser to hunt down the stir sticks. But as if the timing was impeccable, it took me back to the last page I'd opened... Hallie's blog. I don't know what made me scroll, but I did. And it had been updated today.

I wasn't sure I could gag my way through another update on Dean, but that's not who the entry was about. Across the screen read I FUCKED MY ROOMMATE ON VACATION.

Now there was no way to tear my eyes away from the update. I needed away from this bar, and right now. Even knowing that reading this blog was crossing the line, again, I couldn't stop myself. I told Tyler some lie about needing to call in the order and took off towards Dad's office. The door was shut and locked behind me. I took the desk chair, placed my phone flat on the desk and began scrolling.

Friends, I did A THING. Let me start off by saying I cannot stand my roommate. I tolerate him, and barely. He's a dick. His goal in life is to make mine as miserable as possible. We barely speak, let alone hang out. But my BFF married his brother, and we were forced into being friends this weekend. Y'all, I cannot deny he's hot. The problem is, he knows he's hot.

I smiled. She was not wrong about any of that, and being called out on it without actually being called out face-to-face was interesting. I now had to act as if I didn't know she found me attractive. I made it no secret this last week that I thought the same of her.

So what changed? I have no clue! But somewhere in the Cancun heat, there was a bet for our apartment thrown out the window, some drinks, some laughs, and the hottest—literally ungodly hot, no AC—fucking elevator ride I've taken in my life. Spoiler alert, he was the ride... not the elevator. I haven't stopped thinking about riding his face in the dark and coming on his tongue. I hate myself. I'm literally dying to get back to our apartment to get off to the thought of it... again. Something about it seems even hotter to think of him, in our apartment, when he's not there. Scream his name while he doesn't know the wiser. I hate him and can't stop thinking of him tearing off my underwear... FML!

My breathing ceased. I gazed up at the ceiling, wondering if she was above me right this very second, touching herself to the thought of our elevator ride. My cock firmed. Was she upstairs, legs parted while moaning my name?

Adjusting myself, I cursed my own thoughts and stood from the desk. I wasn't sure if it was helping or hurting that I could read her mind in this blog. Everything she was writing was the absolute truth—I couldn't stand her either. But the elevator... it happened, and there was no doubt that my body and mind now had a craving for hers.

I had a decision to make, right here and now. Either I go back to my bar and forget that Cancun and Hallie ever happened, and go back to fighting her for the apartment; or I march up the stairs right now and find out if she is playing with herself and thinking of me. I take care of the thirst she has and maybe have fun crossing something off her bucket list.

The list...

I dived at the desk to retrieve my phone again, scrolling to the right of post to find the list. Elevator sex was crossed off, and she'd even added fucking my roommate just to cross it off again. Her head was in the same space as mine. We didn't know we wanted whatever this is, but that list was calling for me to continue.

I shot a text to Tyler telling him to cover the bar and took off for the stairs.

_____________

A/N: I'm sorry it's been so long, friends! The holidays, being sick, work, and my mental health took a toll. With my new meds, I'm struggling to want to write. But I'm ready to dive back into this.

I think to make this easier on me for a while, I'm going to skip the editing process until the very end of the book—the way I used to write back when I wrote Breaking the Friendzone and Coincidentally. It will help me pump out more chapters faster, but I do apologize for the errors. I will not be upset if you point them out, and I will fix them as you do.

I just need to find my groove again, and I love all of you for being patient and understanding of this ♥️.

May