And why is that? Why do I care so much when she doesn’t?
I call bullshit. She cares. She doesn’t want to, but she does.
I guess that’s why I dragged Walker here, anyway. I mean, fuck, I can see the struggle, hear trepidation in her voice, feel the fear emanating off her. … The question is, why?
So I watch her move through the club. Head thrown back as she laughs. Hand placed on a male patron’s biceps, which has me gritting my teeth. Skirt inching up as she bends over to grab the shot glass from the table in front of her and downs the liquor like a pro. Impressive. Too bad my thoughts drift to where else those lips of hers can go down.
“Oooohhhh,” Walker says, synapses firing and his eyes widening with understanding as I look back at him, “so I was under the impression you dragged me along tonight because you wanted to spend time with me. Well, that and because your broom is on his honeymoon.”
“Broom?” I laugh, trying to figure out what in the hell random thing my little brother is talking about.
“Yeah, bromance. Married. Groom.” He shrugs with a shit eating grin on his face. “Broom.”
I laugh again. Can’t help it. He’s such a little shit, but dude’s funny as hell. Plus I know he’s sometimes jealous of my friendship with Colton—how close we are—so I allow him a few digs now and again just cuz he’s my little brother. “Where do you come up with this shit?”
“It’s what happens when you’re born second.” He takes a swig from his bottle of beer. “Mom used up all the errant genes with you, and so I got all of the vetted ones. The smart ones who didn’t go multiplying at first sight, dazed by the big fat prize, you know?”
Is he really serious? He must be drunk already, and we’re only an hour into our night. I just blink and shake my head as I try to process the fact that he most definitely was dropped on his head as a child. Had to be. Mom must have had an accident one day—dropped Walker—then just brushed him off and kept on going, not knowing the damage done beneath the surface.
“Order another drink, Becks, and it will all make sense,” he teases me. I roll my eyes at him and then look back out to the club beyond us, eyes searching to make sure she’s okay. I catch sight of her sparkly top, the lights playing off her movements and reflecting against her pale hair. My dick stirs in reflex to the sight of her. Can’t help it.
When I know she’s fine, I look back toward my little brother and raise my eyebrows at him, wanting to see what pieces he fills in because I sure as hell am not going to offer up the information he wants freely.
Walker points to me and then back to the vicinity of Haddie and then back to me. “So … uh … that’s Haddie? You two … uh …?” He raises his eyebrows at me but doesn’t ask if we’ve had sex. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, what?” I’m not giving any details here. He may be my little bro, but dude’s gonna have to work for the info since he’ll most likely go straight to Aubrey, who in turn will go straight to my mom. And I really don’t need her breathing down my neck right now about marriage and babies.
And those damn pink flip-flops.
“Dude, I’m a lot confused.”
I reach over and cuff him on the shoulder. “Like that’s a news flash.” I flinch back as he fakes a punch to my biceps in a move between us as tried and true as time.
“Well, you show up at the cabin with fucking stars in your eyes. Deena shows up out of the blue a few days later. … I kinda just figured you were having some regression pussy—”
I almost spit my drink out—find it very hard not to—so I cough out in choked laughter instead. “Regression pussy? What the hell, Walk …?” The coughing strikes me again, my eyes watering and my throat burning. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
He just continues looking at me, amusement in his eyes and a smirk on his face. He shrugs. “Well your birthday is coming up. You keep saying you’re feeling like an old fucker, so I figured that you were double-dipping into the past by starting shit with Deena again. Regressing some so that you could feel like you did back in the day, a young buck and shit. But now we’re here tonight, and you’re watching that hottie over there like you want to hit it like you’re a baseball bat, and so now I’m curious.”
“I swear there is no way we came from the same mother.” I shake my head at him, even though I should be used to his roundabout randomness. “And first of all, buck? Stallion would be more like it.”
“You wish,” He snorts. “So? You banging Deena and now moving on to her,” he says, lifting his chin in Haddie’s direction, “or what? Cuz, dude, that’s so unlike you.”
Irritation flickers. “There was no banging Deena.” When he just rolls his eyes in disbelief, I continue. “Been there, done that, and honestly, I know you always had a crush on her, but she’s not that great.”
Now it’s his turn to choke on his drink. And for some reason, I find an odd amusement in watching him cough. “She’s like a fifteen on a scale of one to ten.”
“Yeah, on the hot factor, she’s definitely a fifteen, but the things I know now versus the things I knew back then … man.” I shake my head, recalling how perfect I thought Deena was. How I thought she was the shit in bed, yet now with age and more experience, I realize how naive we really were. I think of how one night with Haddie blew the fifty-odd times with Deena out of the water.
“Maybe Dee’s learned more since college too.”
“Quite possibly.” I mull over thoughts of her and young love, but none of them sticks in my mind. It was all fumbling hands and false fronts of confidence as we explored and experimented. Then I think back to a few days ago when Deena showed up out of the blue, just passing through town. I was more than down with rekindling things for one night … and then we ran into Haddie.
Fucking Haddie. With her doe-shaped eyes and quivering chin asking me questions without any words. So stubborn she refuses to admit she needs someone when she’s hurting. And then she called me and unloaded on me about friends and strings and hell if I was going to sit there and take her shit without saying something in return.
Until she made that one little sound. That hiccup that told me everything. How much she feared and needed and wanted and didn’t want to be alone.
“Dude, like I said … you want to hit it, it seems like she’s quite the flirtatious one.”
It takes everything I have not to snap back at him. How dare he judge her when she’s out there doing her job? And I realize that’s exactly what he wants. He wants me to react, to call me to the table so that he knows where I stand, and hell if I’m going to walk right into that open fucking door.
“First off, Walker, it’s a wonder Aubrey doesn’t kick you out to the curb with that mind-set. Secondly, don’t you know sometimes slow and steady wins the race? I sit back, bide my time, and reel her in, and then once I have her hooked, I can figure out just what it is that she wants.”
“This ain’t the tortoise and the hare, bro.” He shakes his head at me as if he’s ashamed and takes a sip of his beer.
“True.” I nod and motion for another round to the waitress as she walks by. My mind vaguely recalls Haddie’s words to me the night we first met in Vegas, something similar to what I just said about slow and steady wins the race, and I think how well she pegged me way back then. “But at least the tortoise stays hard and has one hell of a shelf life.”
“Jesus fucking Christ! You really need to work on not being so goddamn dorky if you think you’re going to catch the likes of that hotter-than-hell woman.”
Little does he know I already have. Little does he know the woman owns more than just my thoughts right now.