Crazy Stupid Bromance

by Lyssa Kay Adams

  Noah walked toward her, arms reaching to hold her. “Are you okay?”

  Unlike last night, when she’d fallen so willingly into his embrace, she backed away from him. Her arms came around her torso, a protective shield. Her coldness brought a chill to his entire body.

  “Lexa—”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t called you back.” She dragged two trembling hands across her weary face. He wanted to pull them away and kiss every worry line. She sucked in a breath and started again. “I needed some time to figure out what to say.”

  Her blunt honesty, so Alexis, caught him off guard this time. “Then maybe I should talk, because I know exactly what I need to say.”

  Her head shook in tiny little denials. “I can’t do this right now. I’m already behind, and I have a lot to do right now—”

  “It can wait.”

  “It can’t.”

  “Dammit, Lexa, stop talking to me like I’m some random angry customer who needs placating.”

  She swallowed hard and briefly met his eyes. He’d gone long enough without touching her. Noah closed the distance between them and cradled her face in his hands. “Talk to me.”

  “This is all my fault, and I’m so sorry.”

  “Nothing is your fault.”

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

  Alarm bells began to ring in his head. He let his hands fall away as he backed up.

  She looked everywhere but at him. “You were right to put a stop to it. It was a mistake.”

  No. No, it was not a mistake. It was the most important moment of his life. But he couldn’t get those words out, because she hit him with another punch.

  “I—I was vulnerable and upset, and I took advantage of you.”

  “Took advantage of me?” He’d been reduced to useless parroting of her ridiculous words.

  She nodded, biting her lip again.

  He shook his head. “Alexis, all I wanted was for us to take a break and talk about what was happening.”

  “And I’m glad you did, because clearly, we were making a mistake,” she said.

  He swallowed a groan. “I would give away all my money for you to stop saying that.”

  “But you obviously regretted it, and—”

  “I didn’t regret it!”

  “I need some space.”

  He blinked. His brain heard the word, but his heart refused to accept it. “What—What does that mean?”

  “It means that I can’t think straight right now, and I tend to make really bad decisions when I’m in that kind of headspace, obviously—”

  He bristled at the word obviously.

  “—and I think it would be best if we just—”

  “No. Whatever you’re about to say, you’re wrong. It would not be best.”

  “I need some time to get centered and figure a few things out.”

  He wanted to argue because, Christ, he could already feel her drifting away from him like a boat pulling away from the dock. He had to clear his throat to find his voice. “How—How much time?”

  “Maybe we can talk this weekend at the bachelorette party.”

  “This weekend.” His voice had gone flat and lifeless, just like he felt. They hadn’t gone more than a single night without talking in almost a year. He lost feeling in his knees and sank against the counter behind him. “Alexis, I need you to be clear with me about what’s happening here.”

  The sight of a tear dripping down her cheek made his stomach pitch. “I just need time.”

  She hugged herself and, with a last glance at him, walked away. He couldn’t move as she crossed the kitchen, pushed open the swinging door, and disappeared into the café. Beefcake peeked around the corner from the back room and hissed.

  “Yeah, well, fuck you too,” Noah grumbled.

  He peeled away from the counter, dragged his hands down his face, started toward the back door, and then stopped to turn around. He did it three more times before pounding his fist with an argh, throwing open the door, and stomping into the alley. It was another five minutes of indecision before he started his car and pulled out. He wanted to hit something.

  Wait. Not something.

  Someone.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Noah whipped his car into the lot behind Temple. He grabbed the book from the floor, where it had fallen off the seat during one of his more aggressive turns on the way there. He folded it into one furious hand, slid from the front seat, and slammed his door because he wanted to and it felt good and he needed to warm up for the big show.

  The back door was locked, as he knew it would be, so he resorted to pounding with the side of his fist until it finally opened. A kitchen worker he didn’t recognize stuck her head out.

  Noah shoved his hands in the door and pushed it open.

  “Hey!” she yelled, racing after him.

  Noah stalked up the dark hallway that led to the back offices. Sonia was just walking in from the other direction. She stopped short. “Whoa, what is wrong with you?”

  “Where is he?” Noah growled.

  “What?”

  “Mack. Where is he?”

  “In his office? Why?”

  Noah stormed around her and continued until he reached the small cluster of administrative offices on the right. He rounded the corner toward Mack’s office just as Mack himself emerged.

  He stopped at the sight of Noah and flashed one of his goddamned grins. “Hey, man. I thought you couldn’t come with us today.”

  “I’m not here for the fucking food tasting.” Noah hurled the book at him. It struck Mack in the center of his chest and fell to the floor in a pathetic flutter of pages.

  Mack looked down slowly and then back up, eyebrow raised. “You didn’t like that one?”

  His sarcasm turned Noah’s rage into something frightening. “Fuck you. Fuck your books. And fuck your crazy, stupid Bromance Book Club bullshit.”

  Mack bent and picked up the book. “You broke the spine, man.”

  “Yeah? Well you broke me and Alexis!”

  Mack’s eyebrows tugged together. “What are you talking about?”

  “What the fuck do you think I’m talking about?”

  Mack stalked forward. “What did you do?”

  Noah spun around. He needed to get out of there.

  “Wait, Noah. Hang on a second.”

  “Fuck off.”

  Mack ducked around and blocked his path, arms spread wide. Noah backed up, hands clenched, ready to fight. “Get out of my way.”

  “Just wait, okay?” Mack said. “You came here, so you obviously want help, even if you’re not willing to admit it.”

  And because Mack was right, or maybe because Noah was just a glutton for punishment, Noah actually obeyed.

  Which is how, twenty minutes later, he found himself uncomfortably wedged between Colton and the Russian in the back seat of Mack’s SUV as it sped down the freeway. From the passenger seat, Malcolm stared back at him with a disappointed expression. Ten minutes later—and really, any longer than that, and Noah would have thrown up in the Russian’s lap, because Mack drove like shit—the SUV whipped into the parking lot of a plain brown building with a striped awning and a sign that read PRICKLY PEAR CATERING.

  The Russian opened the back door and nearly fell out. “Come, Noah. We have good food and you tell us why you screw up so much.”

  Noah let out the longest sigh in history and trudged behind the group. A woman in a black apron was waiting for them and led them to a table near an open kitchen.

  “You know I don’t actually care about any of this, right?” Noah said, dropping like a grumpy teenager into a chair.

  “That hurts my feelings,” Mack said. “We’re making memories.”

  The woman in the apron returned with a tray of mimosas. Noah ordere
d water instead.

  Mack sighed and waited until the woman walked away before turning his attention to Noah. “We have about ten minutes before they bring the food out. So let’s hear it. What the hell did you do?”

  “You assume this is all my fault?” Which, of course, it was.

  The guys exchanged one of their annoying looks and then burst into laughter. “Of course it’s your fault, dumbass,” Colton said.

  “We need all the details,” Malcolm said, “so we can fully understand the situation.”

  “The details are little fucking personal.”

  “We understand—”

  Noah interrupted Malcolm. “And we’re talking about Alexis here, okay? I’m not exactly comfortable talking about her like this.”

  Mack sighed. “You’re part of book club, Noah. Being uncomfortable is part of book club.”

  “Just get it all out fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid,” Malcolm offered.

  So, with a deep sigh, Noah rattled off as few specifics as possible. When he was done, silence greeted him.

  “Let me make sure I have this straight,” Malcolm said after a moment. “She initiated it? As in, she kissed you first?”

  Noah’s chest got warm and tight all at once. “Yes, she kissed me first.”

  “Did she, like, throw herself at you with, like, arms and legs?” Colton asked.

  “Or was it more tender, like a nudging of the mouth?” That was from the Russian, who didn’t look like he could possibly even understand the word tender much less display it.

  Noah looked away. “Tender, I guess. At first.” Christ, this was embarrassing. He thought explaining the whole she looked at my nipples thing was humiliating, but this was going to kill him.

  Malcolm stroked his beard. “And you stopped her?”

  “Not right away. It got kind of . . .” Noah’s cheeks ignited.

  “Kind of what?” Mack asked, doing his best and failing to keep the yeah, baby from his expression. Noah was going to enjoy hitting him soon. Hard.

  “It became more than kissing?” Malcolm prodded.

  “Jesus, yes.”

  Colton leaned forward. “Was there nudity involved?”

  “What?”

  “Nudity,” the Russian explained. “It means naked.”

  “I fucking know what nudity means! And no, there was no nakedness.”

  Malcolm gave the Russian and Colton disapproving looks. “How long did it last?” he asked, returning his attention to Noah.

  Forever and not long enough. “A few minutes.”

  Colton grinned. “So, was it just kissing or did you get some grinding action too?”

  Noah flipped him off.

  Mack jumped back in. “Just tell us what happened next.”

  Noah scrubbed a hand over his hair. “She started unbuttoning my jeans. And I panicked, and so I told her we should stop, and the next thing I know, she’s running out of the house.”

  Colton gaped. “Why did you stop kissing her? Isn’t that what you wanted? To take the relationship deeper?”

  “Yeah, but I wanted to make sure she wanted the same thing!”

  “How many more signs do you need?” Mack blurted.

  “You guys don’t understand. She’s going through a lot right now. She had just come from her father’s house and was upset. I didn’t want to take advantage of that.” Not to mention the fact that all of his brain cells were lodged in the largest, most painful erection he’d ever experienced.

  “So instead you just made her feel rejected?” Colton snarked. “Nice going, whistle dick. No wonder she told you she needs space. You embarrassed her.”

  “I wasn’t rejecting her!”

  “She came to you after being rejected by her father,” Malcolm said. “She worked up the courage to act on her feelings for you, and you put a stop to it. What else was she supposed to think?”

  Indignation merged with shame. “It’s your fault. If you guys hadn’t given me that stupid book and—”

  Mack grinned. “So you did keep reading.”

  “For fuck’s sake.” Noah dragged a hand over his beard. “Yes, I kept reading. But only because you guys filled my head with these crazy ideas. You screwed up my relationship with her!”

  “Dude, you’re the one who kissed her and freaked out,” Mack said.

  “And flashed your happy trail at her,” Colton added.

  The Russian giggled. “Frank and beans.”

  Malcolm waved his hands. “We’re missing a step. At which point in all of this did you tell her how you feel about her?”

  The table got quiet. Noah winced and looked at his lap.

  “Noah, you did tell her how you feel about her, right?” Malcolm said.

  “I—not exactly.”

  The reaction that followed could not have been more violent if he’d been caught cosplaying Kylo Ren with a white lightsaber. The group exploded in a burst of swear words and pounding fists.

  “You idiot!” Mack finally sputtered.

  Colton snorted and shook his head. “You realize you’re a giant fucking moron, right?”

  A sour taste stung the back of his throat. “I tried to talk to her,” Noah protested. “She won’t listen to me.”

  Mack snorted and looked at Malcolm. “What would you say is your pet peeve about poorly crafted romance novels?”

  Malcolm crossed his arms. “That would be when two adult characters avoid having a grown-up conversation that could change the course of the story.”

  Two waiters emerged from the kitchen then, balancing heavy trays of what looked like twenty different plates. The Russian clapped and tucked a napkin in his shirt. Noah didn’t share his enthusiasm. His appetite was nonexistent. He picked listlessly at various options but barely tasted the food and ignored the conversation about which items Mack should pick for the wedding.

  Malcolm nudged him with his knee. “You know what I love most about the books?” he asked quietly.

  Noah bit back a mean retort. He didn’t want to talk about the fucking books, but he also desperately wanted Malcolm’s wisdom. So he said nothing.

  “I love how they can make us cheer for pretty much any character if we just understand why they’re doing something. We’ll let them get away with pretty much anything—including pushing away the woman they desperately want—if they have a strong motivation. The why behind their actions.”

  The entire table went quiet, every man eager to hear what Malcolm had to say, like children sitting at the feet of their favorite teacher.

  “The crucial question we have to ask, both in the books and in life, is why. Why does a character do the things he does? What is the underlying cause of his fears, his mistakes?”

  Noah didn’t like where Malcolm was going.

  “You keep saying that you were afraid to make a move with her because she’s vulnerable,” Malcolm said. “But maybe you’re the one who’s vulnerable. Maybe you stopped kissing her not to protect her, but to protect yourself.”

  The silence that followed his words this time was reverent, somber, and made Noah’s skin itch. He felt suddenly exposed, and not because he’d just admitted to making out with his best friend.

  “Noah, why did you stop her from taking things further last night?”

  “I told you. I wanted to make sure it was what she really wanted, that she wasn’t just upset.”

  Malcolm shook his head. “You know Alexis. Would she do that?”

  The sting of bile turned his mouth sour. Noah shook his head. No, she wouldn’t do that. Self-loathing bled into regret and panic as the full weight of what he’d done settled in the dark, churning pit of his stomach. After more than a year of being accused by strangers of using her body for everything from revenge to furthering her career, Noah had all but acted as if she’d done the same—of using her
body to satisfy some kind of temporary emotional need.

  Holy fucking shit. What had he done? He shoved his plate away and propped his elbows on the table so he could bury his face in his hands.

  “I think you stopped her because you weren’t sure if it was what you wanted,” Malcolm said.

  Noah looked up at that. “Of course it’s what I want!”

  “Maybe all this stuff about not wanting to burden her when she’s already upset is all just one big excuse. Maybe you’re just afraid of what’s on the other end of this change in your relationship.”

  Noah didn’t like the truth in that accusation. Noah ground his hands into his eyes. “This is why I never wanted to act on my feelings. Because I knew it could ruin our friendship.”

  “It won’t if you tell her how you really feel.” Malcolm gently pounded a fist on Noah’s back. “And more importantly, show her how you feel. Let her see it. Let her see you.”

  “Just tell me what to do,” Noah said, desperation turning his voice into a whine.

  “You gotta give her some space like she asked,” Mack said. “But use the time to your advantage.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Do some hard work on yourself,” Malcolm said. “Figure out the why behind your own actions.”

  Which is why, an hour later, Noah found himself carrying the book once again to his couch.

  Missy found AJ red-eyed and snotty, a half-empty bottle of Jameson on the coffee table in front of him and a neglected glass in his hand. On the TV, he’d paused the video of Tara’s third-grade dance recital.

  He looked up when she walked into the room. “I missed it all . . .”

  “Yes, you did.”

  He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Why did you give me these videos?”

  Missy sighed heavily and sank down on the couch next to him. “You wanted to see them.”

  “Well if your goal was to torture me, then you succeeded.”

  “Why? Because you weren’t part of it? You’re romanticizing a past you wanted no part of when it was happening. You would have missed it all anyway. The dance recital? It was the same weekend that you played in your first Super Bowl. The Halloween talent show? Middle of October. That Christmas pageant? You would have missed it for a game.”