Spiraling Into Love

By Yvonne Bennett

Kyle Roberts just wants to drink, a good rump in the sheets and an occasional blunt. She's self destructive and doesn't care, wallowing in her misery with a grin.

Jackson Carter just wanted to show her that there was more to life than drinking it away. The two embark on a tumultuous and rocking affair that leaves Kyle questioning....was it worth spiraling into love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: After Hours Publications
• Release date: Dec 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781637182246

Yvonne Bennett

Yvonne Bennett is a former nurse who co-founded Mummies Republic, a support group for mothers in the Bermondsey area of South London.

Book preview

SPIRALING INTO LOVE

A Novel By,

YVONNE BENNETT

©2020 Published by After Hours Publications, Inc. www.afterhourspublications.com

All rights reserved.

Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage without express permission by the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Contains explicit language & adult themes suitable for ages 17+

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*Slow Burn (parts 1 & 2)

CHAPTER ONE

28-year-old Kyle Roberts sipped on her glass of wine as her eyes darted around 'Zayne's nightclub in boredom, music pumping from every speaker as hot, sweaty bodies ground against each other. A headache started to hum in the back of her head from the thumping music, and she huffed silently. Her eyes diverted from the grooving crowd and landed on an outrageously drunk group sitting at the bar. The college-aged men cackled loudly as they drunkenly chatted, a few accidentally spilling splashes of their beer on the bar counter. With one last sip, Kyle hid her wine glass under the bar, exchanging it for a shammy. Stepping over to the fallen alcohol, she began wiping it up with a unit on her face.

"Hey, sweet tits!' the group of guys snickered as one of their friends made a pass at her.

Kyle clenched her jaw and rolled her eyes, only fueling the men more.

Calm down, baby. It was only a joke, not a dick. No need to take it so hard. The blonde before her flashed an inebriated smile as he tried to grab for her.

Dodging his filthy hands, Kyle threw the sham under the counter and stepped away to help other patrons as the men called after her.

Fuck, she hated this damn job.

If it wasn't the shitty music causing her headaches, it was the drunken idiots trying to hit on her.

Can I get a virgin Bahama Mama? A young girl, no more than 16, asked.

ID? Kyle offered, and the girl raised a brow. But it's Virgin. I don't need an ID. The dark-haired child said matter of factly.

Kyle gave her a look, making the girl cross her arms. The older woman laughed, the rum spiced colored skin on her face wrinkling.

Listen, kid. I don't know if this is your first time in a club, but we have dram shop laws, meaning I have to request ID with every order, whether they're virgin or not. So… ID? Kyle repeated, and the girl's face grew red.

I don't see why I need an ID to order. I just want a fruity drink, no alcohol. The brunette huffed, and Kyle crossed her arms nonchalantly.

Jesus, kid, what don't you get? No ID, no drink. This isn't rocket science, beloved. If you want a drink, I can sell you a pineapple or cranberry juice. Your choice. Kyle told the girl with bored eyes.

Or, do you not have your ID? You do look a bit young to be in here. Kyle questioned with a knowing, raised brow.

The child's anger seemed to increase at the line of questioning, and she exploded.

Fuck you, bitch! She hollered, then turned and stomped away, disappearing into the mob of people dancing on the floor.

Whew, the clears and their crotch fruit are something else, Kyle mumbled as she reached for her hidden wine glass.

Mac is going to kill you if he catches you drinking again. Sylvia, her coworker, said beside her.

Kyle peeked at her honey-toned college and shrugged. Mac's fat ass could kiss her fat ass. How the hell did he expect her to deal with misogynistic frat boys and underage shitbags every night without a little Pinot Grigio?

Does it look like I give a damn, Sylvia? Mac brings his funky ass here every other night just to collect money and find a poor unsuspecting soul to sweat all over in that, but he calls a house. Kyle ratted off, making Sylvia cackle loudly.

Oh my God, Kyle! Stop! The lighter woman struggled to breathe as she tried to compose herself.

What? It's not like I'm lying. Every time that man takes a step, he breaks out sweating, so I know the chicks he takes home get full sweat bathes from him during sex. Piece of shit. Kyle finished slowly, and Sylvia shook her head.

How's Ms. Betty? Sylvia mentioned, and Kyle just shrugged.

She's fine. She and Mr. Bert are getting much cozier than before, but everything is the same old' same old'. Kyle relayed as she took a slow sip of her drink, savoring the last few drops.

Sitting the empty glass on top of the bar, she pivoted around, bending down to pull another chilled bottle of Pinot from the mini-fridge. Turning, she unscrewed the cap and poured a full glass. Once done, she capped the bottle and stored it back in its place in the fridge.

And you? Sylvia threw a pointed look at her congested wine glass, and Kyle offered another shrug without saying anything as she placed the cup to her plump lips.

Sylvia continued to eye her as she guzzled down her alcohol, causing Kyle to huff and slam the glass down gently so it wouldn't break.

What, Syl? She crossed her arms and turned toward her, fully taking her in.

Sylvia was gorgeous with her honey-colored skin and black and blue ombre-hair. She was model thin and always wore palazzo pants to show off her delicate figure.

Are you okay? You're throwing those glasses back like shots, and I don't want you to get too wasted before the 1 am crowd hits. Sylvia told her in genuine concern.

Sylvia, stop playing with me. You know I can work this entire bar slammed on five Jager Masters and two firebombs. I'm a pro at this shit. And no, nothing's wrong except for this janky ass music. Kyle rolled her eyes as Cardi B's 'Money' bumped throughout the club.

She grabbed her glass, getting ready to refill it when Sylvia raised a brow.

I don't know, K. It seems like more than the music tonight. She frowned, and Kyle sighed, replacing her cup on the bar.

Syl, I promise you I'm fine. I'm just trying to get liquored-up before you know who pops up. Kyle marched to the mini-fridge and pulled out the remaining bit of Pinot, stepping to the bar to empty it into her glass.

Sylvia burst into laughter, and Kyle shot her a playful glare.

I honestly don't see why you won't just sit on his face and be done with i- Oh, speak of the devil himself. Sylvia grinned, hazel eyes planted squarely on the approaching figure walking up.

Kyle tightened her jaw, inhaling deeply, then swallowed down her wine like it was cool water. Shoving her glass under the bar, she rotated to the left to see the tan, buff stranger that visited 'Zayn's' almost every other night. He had dark hair that reminded her of a drunken Friday night, dark and untamed. He was ripped, but not to the point he looked like a bodybuilder. He seemed more like the type that loved to stay fit. His eyes were brown like cognac and always serious when he flirted with her, and that made her wary of him.

He liked her…

And God only knew why.

Kyle knew his whole routine down to a 'T'. He was going to take a seat closest to her station and order a Heineken…

He sat two seats across the bar from where Kyle and Sylvia were standing.

How are you tonight? Can I get you anything? Syl started when she noticed Kyle just standing there peering at the man in boredom.

A Heineken, please. The guy smiled at Sylvia as he placed his order.

She went about getting his drink, and he put his entire focus on Kyle, his eyes soft. And now he was going to ask her how she was and how her night was going, Kyle mentally prepared.

How are you? How's your night been? The man flashed another brilliant smile, and Kyle pursed her lips as she gazed at him flatly.

My nights have been fine, pretty boy. She expressed, using her designated nickname for him.

He chuckled, the sun-kissed skin near his eyes wrinkling in humor. Sylvia nudged her from behind, causing her to turn a little, seeing the outstretched Heineken. Taking it, Kyle whirled around and placed it in front of a pretty boy.

Now he was going to take a sip, roll the bottle between his hands as he peeked around the club, then put his attention back on her and try his hand at flirting. As Kyle grabbed the shammy from under the bar, she observed as he took a sip, gazed around the club then put his eyes right back on her.

He grinned, and Kyle resisted rolling her eyes. If she continued, she'd most likely wake up tomorrow morning starting at her damn brain.

You look gorgeous tonight, Kyle. A silent exhale floated from her nostrils, and she felt Sylvia bump her from the side.

Gorgeous?

She was wearing a black tank top, dark jeans, and knee-high black leather boots. Her shoulder-length blown-out hair was in a low ponytail, and she wore no makeup.

That hardly counted as 'gorgeous'.

The ombre-haired woman jerked her eyebrows and made a horse-riding motion with her hips, and Kyle laughed.

Ayo! She and her co-worker jumped as a redhead slammed a twenty down on the counter out of nowhere, his cheeks matching the color of his hair.

Kyle snorted as she noticed his crisp white t, sagging pants, and red Jordans.

Lemme get a shot of da Henny, shawty! The guy hollered drunkenly.

Coming right up, my wigga! She threw him a head nod as she collected the money, Sylvia chuckling insanely beside her.

Kyle poured his shot and slid it across the bar.

The man caught it, guzzled it down, then threw up some sort of hand movement Kyle could only describe as a made-up set.

Thanks for looking out, Queen. You keep the change, beautiful. The man held up the peace sign as he faded into the crowd.

Kyle pinched her nose, and after a few minutes, she cackled.

Girl, let me go back to my end of the bar before I laugh myself to death. Whew! Sylvia shook her head, waved goodbye, and made her way back to her section on the far end of the bar.

Kyle composed herself and reached for her wine glass. Going towards the fridge, she pulled out a fresh bottle of Moscato and popped it open, pouring the chilly drink into her glass. Capping the bottle, she returned it to its place and took a big gulp of wine. As she hid the cup under the bar, she could feel pretty boy's orbs on her.

He threw her a tight-lipped smile as he fiddled with his Heineken.

Great…

Now that Syl was gone, she had to endure Sir bedroom eyes trying to start up conversations with her as she worked her section.

You never told me how your nights were going. He started up as if on cue, and Kyle bit her tongue, suppressing the gag that was dying to get out.

It's been fine. She replied dully, and the pretty boy frowned in appreciation.

Kyle knew he wasn't satisfied with her answer, but he wasn't going to push it.

That's good. He nodded and peeked around, then put his attention back on her.

It's pretty packed for a Wednesday night, huh? Kyle ran her tongue over her upper teeth at his questioning.

Nothing different from the usual. She uttered, retrieving the shammy and wiping off the wet spots that littered the bar, and removing empty glasses.

His inquiry ceased as she ended the conversation abruptly, ignoring his intent gaze on her back. Maybe tonight pretty boy would finally get the hint that she wasn't interested and would just leave her the fuck alone. Between the patrons, the horrible music, and the pretty boy, Kyle honestly just wanted to quit this job. The minimum wage and subpar tips she received wasn't worth this bull.

She needed another drink.

And some dick.

As soon as her shift ended.

What's up, gorgeous? Let me get an, uh, She peeked up and saw a fine black guy standing before the bar, his eyes glancing over the liquor shelf.

Kyle looked him up and down, then raised her eyes to the ceiling as she made a praying motion with her hands.

As the church folk say, God is always on time.

Yes, what would you like? She quirked up. An uh… let me just get two shots of a patron. He rubbed his hands together and beamed at her, showcasing his sparkling white teeth.

Right away! She bit her lip once more, then turned and prepared his drinks.

Pivoting, she sat the twin shot glasses down and pushed them softly toward tall, dark, and chocolate. He winked then threw each shot back one by one. He sat them down and threw her another sensual glance before walking off into the dancing bodies of the nightclub.

As Kyle collected the shot glasses, she heard a pretty boy mumble something.

What was that? She raised a brow and paused.

I said, I saw him walk in here with his girlfriend, and he's trying to flirt with his eyes. He's a jackass. The guy clarified with yet another tight-lipped smile.

Kyle took a deep breath, her mouth slightly opened as she inhaled.

Oh, look, I've spotted yet another jackass. She sassed, and the man's face fell before he chuckled lowly as he shook his head.

Reaching below the bar, she gripped her wine glass and brought it to her lips, taking a small sip.

Kyle! She jumped, and the glass nearly fell from her hands.

What the fuck have I told you about drinking on the job!?! Mac's irritating voice roared out, and Kyle felt her eyes voluntarily rolling in aggravation.

Not to? Is that the correct answer? She smarted off with nonchalantness.

I don't know what the hell your problem is, Kyle, but I will not let you get my fucking club shut down because you wanna get sauced on the clock. I've told you too many damn times that I didn't want to come in here and catch you drinking, and yet you don't give a fuck! You know what, Kyle!? She watched Mac's pedophile goatee bounce up and down as he ranted, disinterested in the subject matter at hand.

You're fired! Clock out and clean out your locker! Mac yelled as his phone chimed from his khakis.

Kyle simply drank down the remainder of her wine as Mac glared at her while he spoke on the phone. He hung up and stared Kyle down. When she made no move to do as he demanded, his fat neck grew red. He marched over to her and put his hands on his hips.

You think I'm a joke, Kyle? I said, get your shit! You're fired! He repeated venomously.

Kyle gave him a stoic look and sat her glass down on top of the bar.

Fired, Mac? Oh my God, you don't know how you just answered my damn prayers, you fat fuck. She slapped her knee as if she had told the funniest joke.

She composed herself, then her looks went deadly.

You think you firing me from this bullshit ass job hurts me!? I've been thinking about quitting anyway, so this is a freaking blessing. You said no drinking on the job, right? Well, I'm fired now, so guess what? Pour that shit up, Sylvia! She untied her black apron and threw it in Mac's face.

Sylvia isn't pouring shit! Get your shit and get off my property now before I get one of the bouncers to throw your ass out, Kyle! Mac screamed, the veins in his chunky neck becoming prominent.

Bet! Kyle laughed.

She shoved past Mac and darted to the back, headed toward her locker. She collected her personal belongings and then made her way back out to the front of the bar. Stepping over to the electronic cash register, she clocked out. Once she was done, she sat her items on top of the bar, getting ready to jump