I sit in my car, stock-still, ignition off. My hands grip the steering wheel as sweat beads on my upper lip, and unshed tears burn the back of my nose. There is one thing Marlo and I agree on—I will lose him.
“Best of You” by Foo Fighters
Present Day
“CAN WE USE these chairs since you aren’t using them.” The random girl in the red tube top is dragging two chairs away before we even have a chance to answer her.
Sara slams a hand down on each seat and glares at her. “These seats are saved,” she says with the intensity of a middle school brat.
Tube Top rolls her eyes and huffs, but leaves the chairs behind. Sara pulls them back under the table and drapes her arms and legs over as many chairs as she physically can.
“They better hurry their asses up … the vultures are circling,” she mutters.
It’s open mic at The Courtyard, and Adam’s performing. Sara and I managed to snag the front and center table for our crew, but we’re gonna get bulldozed by the masses if they don’t get moving.
“Thanks for coming early and helping me out, Cain. I wouldn’t stand a chance by myself.” She smiles at me, but her expression turns to a growl as more chair stealers approach.
“Don’t mention it, Cujo. I’m starting to think I’m protecting the crowds from you, not the other way around.”
She throws her hand up in the air. “I mean, seriously, are their boyfriends performing tonight. I highly doubt it.”
Her eyes shift to the stage, and a love sick smile plays on her lips. She’s got it bad, and good thing for her, so does Adam. If you’re gonna be a fool for someone, it pays to be sure they are equally as much a fool for you. That’s where I missed the fucking boat.
“Who are we expecting at this shindig?”
“Hmmm, why do you ask? Are you avoiding someone in particular?”
“I’m about to be avoiding you, if you keep up the Nancy Drew bit.” I take a pull off my beer and give her a warning glare. “Curiosity killed the cat, ya know?”
“Meow.”
I can’t help but laugh. I also can’t help throwing balled up napkins at her nosy little head, but she takes it in stride, using them to dab her makeup and stuff her bra. I have to hand it to him; Adam snagged one of the good ones.
“Look, all I know is two of my favorite people seem to be avoiding each other, and it’s harshing my mellow, man.”
“Far be it from me to harsh your mellow,” I deadpan.
“And newsflash,” she quips with a pointed finger and raised eyebrows. “You and Celia as a team? Y’all are fucking awesome. You all by your lonesome? Only slightly awesome. It’s like cookies with no milk … peas without the carrots … a massage with no happy ending. Think about it.”
Her head bobs up and down, and I smile despite myself.
“Ya know what I think? You and loverboy with Lily and Gage? Life of the party. Just the two of ya?” I shrug and roll my eyes. “Snoozeville.”
She gasps and clutches her chest. “How dare you?”
“Oh, I dare. I always do. Now, guest list, if you please.”
She lets out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. Marlo, Alex, and Celia are meeting us. Happy?”
“As a clam,” I reply with crossed arms and a smile.
And I am happy, because while I’ll have to sit across from Celia and act as if I don’t miss the hell out of her, at least I won’t have Audrey to contend with. I haven’t given her a piece of my mind yet, but it’s coming—that’s a fact. Honestly, I’m still too fucking pissed to look at her, much less talk to her. Yeah, distance from Audrey is necessary at this point.
Sara squeals and bounces in her seat, waving. I turn around and see Alex, Marlo, and Celia standing in the entryway. Celia is wearing a baby blue sundress that shows off her delicate curves and way too much leg—in my opinion. Whether she agrees or not, those legs are for my eyes only. My eyes travel up her hot little body, and, when I reach her face, I see the daisy behind her ear. The sight makes seeing her hurt a little more. She’s a mirage to a man who’s dying of thirst.
She fidgets with her purse straps and gives Sara a nervous wave. Her eyes settle on me, and she winces. She fucking winces, as if the sight of me causes her physical pain. I know the feeling.
Let’s get this over with.
I spend the evening throwing in a random comment or two when necessary and pounding Rolling Rocks like a champ. It turns out the best way to keep my mind off the fairy sitting across from me is a single-minded focus on getting piss-ass drunk. I’m far exceeding expectations, and I’ll now have to hitch a ride home.
It doesn’t take long for the conversation to turn to Alex and the mystery man from her past. Since Alex is my weekly golf buddy, I’m well versed on this topic. Alex found her boyfriend from years ago, West, hiding in plain sight in Providence. While she had dreams of rekindling their relationship, he had other plans, mainly staying as far away from Alex as possible. West is a war vet, and he bears the scars of a soldier, both inside and out. He’s doing a bang job of pushing her away, and that’s his right, but when I hear her say he spent their entire golf game verbally attacking her and then left her without a word, I see red. How could anyone be so cruel, especially to a cool chick like Alex? It turns out I’m not the only one who agrees.
“That jackhole.”
“Douche city.”
“I’ll kick that fucker’s ass,” I add as I crack my knuckles. War vet or not, nobody fucks with my friends.
Celia shakes her head as we all dish out insults. “Remember what I told you. You’re gonna have to fight for the both of you.”
Alex sighs and tries to straighten her slumped shoulders. “It’s a set back, absolutely. But I’m not ready to throw in the towel. He’s gonna have to do better than that. Or worse, I should say.”
Celia stands and smiles at Alex. “There’s my girl. I knew you had it in you. Now, the ladies room is calling. I’ll be back.”
You’re gonna have to fight for the both of you? Are those her sage words of advice? As we sit with a table between us, a piece of wood that feels more like a continental divide, I wonder who will fight for us?
I watch her turn around and weave her way through the tables and people. My recent actions don’t feel rational any more. Keeping my distance seems ridiculous and counterproductive. What in the hell was I thinking?
“Excuse me,” I mumble as I stand up and follow Celia to the back of the bar.
I round the corner into the deserted hallway just before Celia walks into the bathroom. I call out her name, and her spine stiffens at the sound of my voice. She turns slowly to face me, and I keep walking until I’ve cornered her against the wall. I bend down and crowd her nose to nose, breath to breath, just the way she’s been crowding my thoughts for months. I rest my forehead on hers and breathe in, the familiar scent of honeysuckles assaulting me.
“Cain, I … we can’t,” she whispers as a shuddered breath leaves her lips. Her fingers curl around my shirt, fisting it tightly.
“I know he was the love of your life. I get it, I really do. But what if I told you that you were mine? I have enough love for the both us. I know I do.” I close my eyes and wish it all away—whatever it is that is tearing her apart piece by piece. Ragged breaths flow between us, saying more than any words can. “Tink, what if there was only you and me? No past, no ties, just a blank slate…”