Dricki: Oneshots & Other Stories - Book II

Emotion...less - I

Jada stood behind the bar, drying the wet glasses. It was just after midnight. The hotel's bar was empty, most of the guests were in their suites sleeping, while she worked the night shift: cleaning, stocking, and bartending those who think too much for sleep.

She was exhausted to say the least, but her checks were always nice.

Her back was turned to the stools in front of her bar, she was sliding a bottle of Bacardi back in its spot. Even still, she heard someone take a seat.

She stepped off of the stool and turned around, only to be stunned into silence at her company.

Drake was sitting there, his fingers resting on his temples. They were throbbing. Jada didn't say anything. Instead, she turned, grabbed the Virginia Black off the shelf and poured him a glass. She sat it on a napkin and slid it over to him.

He didn't even lift his head to look at her. He simply lifted the glass to his lips and sighed. He'd had the worst day.

The worst day.

I became everything I was trying not to be.

I became him.

I despise him.

I am him.

His stomach was in knots. He hadn't had a drop of water. Nothing less than 80 proof went near his lips for the last seventeen hours. His head was swimming in his failures.

The worst part was knowing that one decision would've changed everything. One decision at two separate occasions.

Deep down, he knew there was no doubt. He felt it in his gut when he got the text. He was going to reap his sewed.

Getting up from the bar, Drake walked over to the section of empty sofas, and sat near the fire. One thing for certain, he was glad to be alone. Away from everybody, his family, his boys, his security, the world...everybody.

He found joy in being able to wallow in his misery without having to force a smile when someone says "it'll be alright."

He'd only been there for ten minutes and had finished his first drink.

Hearing light steps behind him, he raised his glass for her to take it without having to come around the sofa. He couldn't handle her looks of concern anymore. He was bound to explode. She thought he hadn't noticed her staring.

Jada took the glass back to the bar and cleaned it before making him a double this time.

He didn't hear her approaching so she ended up rounding the couch. Drake looked up from the flames and at her.

Two big, brown innocent eyes stared right back at him and they were framed by beautifully long lashes followed by a cute, button nose and intensely full lips.

She furrowed her brows and handed him his drink without a word.

Drake, unabashedly trailed his eyes along her shapely body before turning back to the flames while her fingers brushed his.

After a short pause, Jada was back at the bar.

Halfway through his third drink, he spoke to her. "I think I'm going crazy."

Jada stops in her tracks and sits on the arm of the sofa that was connected to his by way of an end table.

"I really fucked up," as he spoke, he looked her directly in her eyes, then lifted his glass for a sip.

"I try so hard not to be like him. I want to say I truly tried not ending up like them but honestly I can't. Otherwise, I wouldn't be raw dogging porn stars and getting I'm late messages." He finished off his drink. "I'm one of the possible fathers out of five. I know it's mine. The thing is, I had two opportunities to stop this. I met her once, once and decided to fuck her, then I did it without a condom." He shook his head with a laugh. "Do you know how many times I've done that? I go get tested regularly, thank God, but never a pregnancy scare."