Cherry Bomb (Brighton #1)

by Carmel Rhodes

  Cherry’s bottom lip wobbles. “I just thought me being in a bikini would make things worse.”

  “Seeing you in his shirt makes things worse. Jesus, Cherry, you fucked my…my…” She stumbles over the word she’s never said out loud, at least not to me, and now, because I couldn’t keep my dick in check for one fucking night, I’ll probably never get to hear it.

  Stepping forward, I say, “Don’t take this out on her. This is my fault.”

  “Ya think?” Arden’s eyes are wild, a shade of blue so deep it’s almost black. “Why did you even come here? My life was just fine without you in it.”

  My steps falter. “I…I just wanted the chance to—”

  “Fuck my best friend?” she interrupts. “Well, you’ve done it. Now go back to New York, or London, or hell. I don’t really care. Just stay the fuck away from us.”

  “Babe, please,” Cherry begs. She takes three steps forward, her palms land on Arden’s shoulders, and she forces her to stand still. “He loves you.”

  Arden rears back, and an earsplitting crack reverberates through the room. Before I can register what happened, Cherry is clutching her cheek. “Don’t you dare defend him to me.”

  “Arden, I know you’re upset, but you need to calm down,” I reprimand, pulling Cherry into my arms. I peel her hand from her face to see the damage. Her cheek is red and angry, and my stomach drops and guilt eats at me. I didn’t hit her, but I might as well have. I caused this. I’m supposed to be the responsible one. I’m older and wiser, and yet I let my dick lead us here. “Are you okay?” I ask softly. She nods and shrugs out of my hold.

  “No, you don’t get to lecture me right now,” Arden yells, shoving me backwards. “I thought you wanted to get to know me.” She jabs a thumb into her chest. “I thought you came here for me.”

  “I did.” It sounds weak even to my own ears. I fucked up. The world is burning around us, and I might as well have lit the bloody match.

  “Then why did you have sex with my friend at my birthday party?”

  I’m losing control of the situation. Arden is drunk and hurt, and Cherry is retreating. “This is not a random hookup,” I say, desperate to make her understand. “We met on my first night in town. Before I knew she was your roommate.”

  “Wait,” realization washes over her face, “he’s the guy from Eddy’s? The guy you’ve been telling me about?”

  “Yes.” Cherry nods.

  “You fucking bitch. You’ve been fucking him this whole time, then coming home to tell me all the sordid details.”

  “It wasn’t like that.” She looks between me and Arden. “I only told you stuff before I knew who he was to you, after, I did my best to keep the details vague.” She steps forward again. Her cheek is angry and red, but Cherry Girl doesn’t back down from anyone. “I’ve tried to tell you so many times since I found out.”

  “You should have stopped screwing him. Simple.” Arden wraps her arms around her midsection, holding in her emotions. It’s a move she learned from her mother. She’s already made up her mind.

  “I know. I couldn’t. I tried. I really did, but I’m…”

  Arden holds up her hand. “Don’t say it. Do not say you’re in love with him.”

  I cross the room to stand between them. “We were going to tell you.”

  “We?” she scoffs. “When were you going to tell me? When you got married? Or better yet, when you broke up and she slashed your fucking tires?”

  “Don’t do that. Don’t lash out at her because I fucked up.”

  “No, I deserved that,” Cherry says, her lips trembling. “I’m sorry I lied. I swear, I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “No, you just wanted to fuck him, more than you cared about me.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it?” Arden turns to me. “You begged to be in my life, and I was hesitant, but I thought, he came for me when I needed him. When I called, he dropped everything and drove to Fairmont. That deserved a chance, didn’t it?” She shakes her head. Her eyes betray her hurt. “Come to find out, you didn’t come for me after all. You came for her.”

  “No.” I can feel a piece of my heart dying. The pain in her eyes. I put it there. The disappointment. The regret. All of it has my name on it. I failed them. Both of them. “I swear I will do anything to make this right.”

  “You want to make this right?” she says, backing away slowly.

  “Desperately.”

  “You can go to hell, and take her with you.” She turns and jogs out the back door.

  Cherry glides down the wall, collapsing into a heap on the floor. Her gray eyes cloudy with tears. “She hates me.”

  I cross the room and squat down in front of her. Pulling her into my arms, I brush damp strands of hair from her forehead. “She doesn’t hate you. Me, she hates. You, she’s just angry with. You’ll get past it.”

  “I’ve never seen her so angry. Like, ever.” Cherry shudders. “What have I done?”

  “We’ll figure this out.”

  “You don’t understand, she’s my best friend.”

  “She’s my daughter.”

  “Barely,” she scoffs. “You’ve known each other for five fucking minutes.”

  I bristle at her tone. “Look, I know you get hurt and you lash out, but I’m not the bad guy here.”

  “Right, I am.”

  “No one is,” I say gripping her shoulders. “We met and fell for each other. It happened. Neither of us stopped it or told the truth. We are both to blame, but we can fix this.”

  “You don’t understand. I don’t want to fix this.”

  “Baby, calm down,” I say, cupping her face gently, mindful of the red mark Arden left on her cheek. I press my lips to hers softly, a silent plea for her to listen.

  “Please, don’t call me baby,” she whispers against my lips. Her voice is also cold and detached. It’s like an injection of ice to my veins.

  “What the fuck should I call you then?” I bark.

  “Don’t call me anything.”

  “You’re mine, Cherry.” I nip at her bottom lip. “I won’t lose you both.”

  “I will always love you, Cash,” she says so softly I almost miss it. Her mouth finds mine and I shift down onto my knees. Her velvety tongue darts out, and she licks her way into my mouth. Her kiss is slow and filled with longing. When we finally disconnect, she breathes, “I hope you find a woman who is worthy of this.” Her hand settles over my heart.

  “Cherry, don’t do this.”

  “It’s over, Cash.” She rises to her feet. Her voice cracks on my name. “We’re done.”

  Cherry

  I BLINK AWAKE. MY BODY is sore from an uncomfortable night’s sleep on the couch. I reach over, my limbs stiff and achy, and grab my cell phone from the coffee table. It’s nearly dead. I have three missed calls from Cash. My fingertips trace my lips. I press them together, sealing in our last kiss. I miss the feel of him there already. I miss the feel of him everywhere.

  Stop it, Cherry, I reprimand myself. Inhaling, I clear the notifications and delete the voicemails without listening to them. I must be strong now. I will grieve the loss of Cash forever, but I’ve lost love before and survived. What my heart can’t take, what it won’t take, is losing another sister.

  Rolling into a seated position, I dial Arden’s number. It goes straight to voicemail. “Hey,” I say, taking in the space we share. Her things are scattered on the coffee table. Lip gloss. A pink bikini top. The half-empty bottle of champagne I stole from brunch. “I know you hate me. I hate myself, but I swear I will make this right. We ended things.” I stand, grabbing the bottle by the neck and taking a swig. “Cash and I are over, so just come home. Please. Come home.” My throat squeezes and heartache drips from my eyes.

  The phone dies, putting me out of my misery. I stare at the door for the next hour, hoping for Arden to appear. Hoping for her to tell me that she forgives me and that we can move past my betrayal and be best friends again.

/>   By hour two, I’m cleaning up the mess we’d left behind yesterday. Manically arranging her clothes in her closet and returning her makeup to her vanity, as if color-coding her lip gloss is some sort of atonement.

  On hour three, I drag myself to the bathroom and begin to prepare for my shift. “Tonight,” I tell my fogged reflection, “tonight she’ll be home and you can make this right.”

  I drive to the restaurant in complete silence. I punch in, check with the kitchen for the day’s specials, and take a lap around my section, all on autopilot. I trade forced smiles with co-workers and polite conversation with customers, while my brain thinks of ways to win back my best friend and my heart laments the loss of the best man I’ve ever known.

  “Cherry,” Marco says snapping his fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Cherry.”

  “Huh?” I mutter, not bothering to look up from the silverware I’m rolling.

  “Did you party a little too hard last night?” Marco plops down a fresh stack of linens.

  “I don’t know if you can call it partying if you weren’t having fun. It was more like binge drinking and drunk emotional texting.” I cringe, thinking back to last night. After I’d left Cash’s place, I hopped in my old Bug and raced home, hoping like hell I’d find Arden. When she wasn’t there, I polished off a bottle of tequila while I fired off a slew of overly emotional, drunk texts.

  “Ouch,” he says, taking a seat across from me. He plucks a knife, fork, and spoon from their respective containers and begins rolling with me. Marco is a very hands-on boss. He’s always willing to help run food and seat customers when we’re slammed, but I have literally never seen him roll silverware a day in his goddamn life. That must mean one of two things: I look like shit, or he talked to Logan. Either way, I can smell the lecture coming.

  “You know, don’t you?”

  He shrugs. Cocky son of a bitch. “Cash called.”

  My throat burns. My eyes burn. My chest burns. Hearing his name makes everything hurt. “What…” I swallow back the emotion I’d thought I’d bottled up enough to make it through my shift. “What did he say?”

  “He wanted to know if you’d shown up for your shift and asked if I’d keep an eye on you.” Marco pins me with his brown-eyed gaze. “Why is he so worried?”

  “He didn’t tell you?”

  “I didn’t want to pry.” He tucks the cutlery neatly inside the lining and adds it to the done pile.

  “Then why are you prying now?” I ask, adding my roll next to his. We each grab another set, our hands moving in tandem.

  “Because you’re on the clock, and I only mentioned his name and you nearly had a psychotic break.”

  I toss a napkin at his head. “It’s wasn’t a psychotic break, it was a knee-jerk reaction. I’m fine. I won’t have a meltdown on the restaurant floor, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “What happened?”

  I narrow my eyes at him, debating on how much of the truth I should tell. It isn’t his business, but then again, Arden is the person I normally talk to about this kind of stuff, and well… just thinking about the possibility of not having her in my life makes the ache in my chest intensify. “Cash is kind of Arden’s dad,” I say, trying to keep my voice light.

  Marco’s eyes widen and his jaw drops. It’s funny. I spend about eighty percent of my time at the steakhouse trying to shock my generally immovable boss. I’ve regaled him with stories of drunken nights, dirty jokes, and I even offered to show him my boobs once, if he cut me early. Through it all, he’s remained a pillar of authority, unfazed by any of my antics. Who knew all it took was fucking my best friend’s dad to render the man speechless?

  “Say something,” I probe.

  “Arden, as in your roommate?” he says after another full minute of silence.

  “Yup.” I nod, gathering another set of silver. “In my defense, they were estranged until recently.”

  “That’s…fucked up,” he says, though there isn’t any judgment in his tone. More observational, which I appreciate, because it is fucked up, and I can’t say that if the shoe were on the other foot, I could be so objective.

  “So, she found out.”

  “You told her?” He’s given up the pretense of helping with my side work and has, instead, opted to gape at me like I’m the star attraction in an oddities exhibit.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Well, then how did she…” I can feel my cheeks flame with the shame of the memory. Marco covers his mouth with his fist. “She caught you!”

  “In the most compromising position,” I admit. Marco snorts, then erupts into full-on laughter. “It isn’t funny, asshole.”

  “It isn’t funny to you, it’s hilarious for me.” So much for the judgment-free zone.

  I try to frown at him, but his laughter is infectious, so I burst into a fit of giggles. “I lost my best friend, and a really great guy, and probably my apartment,” I say. The laughing stops. My eyes sting and tears fall, tracing inky lines down my face. “I fuck up everything,” I choke out.

  “Cherry.”

  “No, it’s true. Everything I touch turns to shit. I’m like a reverse Midas.”

  He gets up and comes to sit on my side of the booth, wrapping one of his strong arms around my shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I sniffle, shooing him away. “I’m always okay.”

  Marco squeezes me, harder. “You feel things deeper than most of us. You like to dress those emotions up as crazy, but it isn’t. It’s humanity. You have more of it than you know what to do with, and you lash out and self-destruct because it’s easier than living a life with your heart on your sleeve. The world isn’t a kind place and you don’t always have to be okay,” Marco says, standing up and leaving me to my tears and my side work.

  Though I’d sooner die than admit it to him, Marco has been a source of inspiration for me. He migrated here with his family when he was a child. Everything he has, he’s worked his ass off to get. He is one of the most honorable men I know. Him offering me his shoulder means something. It means I am more than my string of bad decisions and vices. But if he sees it, why can’t I?

  The rest of my shift goes downhill from there. I shuffle over to the bar while I wait for the manager on duty to count me out. Emma takes the seat next to me. “You look like shit,” she says, her blonde hair piled high on her head.

  “Well, considering I’ve messed up more orders than I’ve gotten right tonight, I’d say it’s a pretty accurate description.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yep. Not to mention the eight-top from hell who all wanted separate checks or the family of five—three of which were under five. The little fuckers spilled salt everywhere. Then there was the pervy guy who thought it was okay to grab my ass. I shamed him into tipping fifty percent, but still.”

  “Oh my God, I do not miss this place,” she says, flagging down the bartender. “Can I have a Coke, please?”

  “Sure.” He nods.

  “Can I have one too, only can you make it Diet Dr. Pepper and put rum in it?” He looks at me with his stern brown eyes. Marco has a strict no-drinking-on-the-clock policy. I’m also very underage, but my shift’s almost over, and well, I’ll still be underage, but I really need a drink. “I fucked up three orders back to back,” I add, hoping he takes enough pity on me to bend the house rules and break the federal law.

  “Whew,” the bartender says shaking his head. “Just this once, and if Marco catches you, I’m lying and saying you jumped behind the bar.”

  “I respect that.” I nod. He makes our drinks and I return my attention to Emma. “How’s the new babysitting gig? I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks?”

  Her eyes light up, then a frown tips the corners of her mouth. She typically is hard to read, I don’t know if it’s because we are more work friends then real friends, or if she’s hiding something, but her whole body reacted at the mention of Satan and his daughter. “I adore Chelsea. Logan even is lighter
around her, but there’s something about him. I don’t trust him, or myself really.”

  “You want to fuck him again?” I smirk. It’s the first moment since before Arden’s party that I haven’t wanted to lie down in a hole and die, so even though the thought of Logan having sex with anyone makes me want to vomit, I’m jumping on it and grasping with both hands.

  “He’s just…” She tilts her head. Her eyes get a dreamy cast to them. I can tell she’s thinking about him.

  “Fuckable. That’s the word you’re searching for.”

  She hits me on the shoulder. “It was a onetime thing.” I know it’s a lie, I can see the faint purple hickey poking out from her uniform, but I let her have it. She’ll tell me when she’s ready. “I’m his nanny and we aren’t all into older guys.”

  I groan at the mention of Cash and bang my head off the wood. “Please don’t say that name.”

  “Did something happen?” She sucks on her paper straw, relief at the change of topic evident in her eyes.

  “You could say that.” I pause.

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, I totally get it.”

  “He’s Arden’s dad,” I blurt out.

  “Your friend?” Her eyes go round and she grabs her Coke and takes a deep pull. “No way.”

  “Way.” I nod.

  “So, I take it she knows?”

  “Oh yeah, she walked in on us, post coitus. If you know what I mean.”

  “There was cum on your face, wasn’t there?”

  “Oh my God, you’re a perv.” I tilt my head to smile at her. “And I fucking love you. But no. I mean, there was cum alright, but not on my face. Anyway, the cum isn’t the point. The point is she found out before we could tell her. Now she hates us. Cash probably will never talk to me again, and I’m not sure about our living situation.”

  “Well, that sucks.” Emma grabs her Coke and stands. “But I do think you’re wrong about one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  She points over my shoulder and I turn to spot Cash standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets.