“You act as if you’d not have been here if I hadn’t texted you. This is your go-to for a Friday night.”
Bently shook his head. “Nah, I’ve been cutting back on my appearances. Haven’t I, Charli baby?”
Charli smiled and handed him his draft. “I’ll admit I’ve been seeing less of your face than usual.”
“Bet you miss these baby blues, don’t ya? When you gonna leave that man of yours and run away with me?” Bently flirted.
Charli shook her head. “You know better than that. No one can compare to my soldier.”
Bently sighed. “Ugh, you’re breaking my heart. Just give me one night to change your mind.”
Charli smiled. “One of these days your charm is gonna get you in trouble, Bently Evans.”
“Baby, trouble is my middle name,” Bently said.
Andre held up a hand. “Alright, Casanova, leave the woman alone. You’re here to help me find a date for tonight.”
Bently set his beer on the bar and clapped his hands before rubbing them together. “Alright. Any preference?”
“Just someone for tonight only, and no one we know. She can’t be related to anyone we know either.” That was just bad for business.
“Geez. You expect a lot from a small-town watering hole. We should have met up in the city. That’s where I usually go to find someone I don’t know and will never see again.” Bently shook his head.
Andre took another sip of his drink, the burn of the alcohol mixing with the bubbles in the soda down his throat.
“Wow. I think I found the exception to your criteria,” Bently said, slapping Andre’s shoulder.
“Where?” Andre said, searching the room. His eyes zoned in on skinny-jean-clad legs and an off-shoulder black top with the most perfect set of breasts he’d ever seen. The only problem was, he had seen them before.
Mia walked across the room, her long chocolate-colored hair spilling over her shoulders, those wide dark eyes taking in the room.
“Not a chance,” Andre growled, focusing back on his drink.
“Are you kidding me? Are you sure you even like women? Maybe you’re gay? You’d have to be to not want to bring her home, even if you have to see her again. Maybe it could be a regular casual thing?” Bently offered, his hungry gaze never leaving Mia.
“I think I’d know if I liked dick by now, don’t you?” Andre argued.
“Well, if you’re sure. You know you’d still be my brother from another mother, right?” Bently said.
“I’m positive I’m not gay.”
“Then, I guess I’m gonna go and see if she wants my company,” Bently said, grabbing his beer.
Before Andre could react, his friend was gone, approaching Mia. His stomach roiled as he clenched his fists. Why the fuck was he jealous? The thought of his friend’s hands all over the lush curves he wanted to explore invaded his mind. Mia shuddering from his touch, screaming Bently’s name instead of his.
“God damnit!” Andre slammed his hand on the bar top.
“Hey, everything okay?” Charli asked.
“Just peachy.” He couldn’t escape Mia. Everywhere he went, she popped up. At home, work, and now during his time with his friends. What if Bently dated her? Andre chuckled to himself. Bently didn’t date anyone. He was a one-and-done type of guy.
“Charli, give me a whiskey—three fingers.”
She eyed him warily. “Coming right up.”
Mia’s laugh assaulted his ears. He knew if he turned around, he’d see Bently’s hands all over her as they danced. Or maybe he was bending her over the pool table showing her exactly how he’d use his stick. Andre ran a hand over his face and let out a frustrated breath. He needed to get this out of his system one way or another.
Charli set the glass in front of him and he chugged down the liquor as it burned his throat. He slammed the empty glass on the bar and turned around, searching for someone to take his stress away for one night.
A blonde caught his attention. She was making eyes at him, completely ignoring her friend. She’d do.
Andre approached her. “Hey.”
She smiled. “Andre Stone, you sure have matured since the last time I saw you.”
“I’m sorry. You have me at a disadvantage. You know who I am, but I don’t know your name.”
“Summer Richards. From Mr. Peters’s class—high school biology.”
“Oh! Summer. Now I remember,” he lied. “You wanna dance?”
She smiled and giggled with her friend as she set her drink down. “Absolutely.”
He held out his hand, and she took it. There was no current of electricity like when he’d touched Mia earlier. What had that been? Maybe he needed to get the wiring in the building checked.
Andre led his new dance partner onto the floor, doing his best to ignore his friend and Mia moving to the slow melody.
Summer wrapped her arms around his neck as they began to dance, spinning and swaying as his thoughts strayed.
Andre tuned out whatever she was saying, because Mia was laughing at something Bently had said, and his friend was holding her a lot closer than Andre was comfortable with. Acid burned his stomach.
“Did you hear me?” Summer asked.
“Uh, yeah. Me too.” He hadn’t really heard her, but it seemed like a good answer.
“Well, I’m glad you finally manned up and approached me,” she said.
“Yeah, it was good to run into you. How’s life been?” He was a bit rusty. The dating scene had changed in the last six years. How was he supposed to get from hello to her place again?
“I’d love to get to know you better. Do you want to go back to my place and do it in private?” She smirked like the cat that ate the canary.
So that was how it worked now—straight to the point.
He hesitated. He’d never been the one-night-stand kind of guy. Monogamy was his way of life.
Look how far that’s gotten you.
Andre glanced up just in time to see Bently and Mia head towards the front door. Rage and unexplained jealousy coursed through his veins. He needed to get laid and stop obsessing over his neighbor.
“Sure.”
6
Mia
Rolling over in bed, Mia savored the soft cotton of her sheets against her bare skin. Opening her eyes, she searched the room. She got up and brushed her teeth before pulling on her running clothes and throwing her hair back in a ponytail. Her stomach grumbled as it always did when she ate greasy food the night before. Bently had been great company, offering to take her to dinner after their dance. He’d walked her to her car and wished her goodnight like the perfect gentleman.
Running into Bently and Andre was the last thing she had wanted when she went to The Shipwreck. She’d wanted to not drink alone for once. For some reason, returning home and noticing the empty driveway next door had stirred up a burning sensation in her chest. Heartburn from the greasy food most likely.
Mia drank a few sips of water before heading out the door for her morning jog. The first mile was slow as she moved sluggishly. She was off. Good thing she had a meeting with her therapist today. Her last half mile was met with the familiar sounds of footfalls thudding behind her. Anger flared as her guard went up.
This time he didn’t pass, keeping pace with her from behind. She grew impatient, feeling his eyes bore into her. She turned. Andre’s glazed-over gaze was aimed at her ass. His eyes snapped back to the road.
“Enjoying the view?” she teased.
He grumbled and sprinted past her. If she had been keeping score, she’d have surely won this round.
Mia took an extra-long shower after her yoga before getting ready for the day. Even though she had no plans of leaving the house, she got dressed and did her hair. It helped her to stay motivated. One more tool in her toolbox when it came to fighting depression.
The familiar song of a Skype call sounded from her laptop. She clicked it open and greeted her therapist.
“Mia, it’s so good to
see you.”
“You too, Dr. Martinez,” Mia said.
“How have you been doing? How was the move?” she asked.
Mia smiled. “It’s been mostly great.” Mia caught her therapist up on the events of the last week, both the good and the bad.
“Sounds eventful.”
“Yes,” Mia agreed.
“Have you had any more of your blacking-out episodes?” the doctor asked.
Mia shook her head. “Not since the last time.”
“What about panic attacks?” Dr. Martinez questioned.
Mia nodded. “Just one, but I know the trigger. Unfortunately, I can’t avoid this one for the foreseeable future.”
“Why not?”
Mia shrugged. “The man is a bully, but he happens to be my neighbor, my contractor, and the brother of one of my new friends.”
“I see.” Her therapist nodded, adjusting her reading glasses to perch on her nose. “Is it possible to find another contractor?”
Mia thought about it. Could she? She’d liked their work so far. They had been the only company willing to start right away, and for the best price. Plus, Remy was her friend, and to take business away from her husband seemed childish. “I’d rather not. I’ll just do my best to avoid Andre. I don’t know why he’s so . . . ugh . . . I don’t even know how to describe the way that man gets under my skin.”
Dr. Martinez smiled. “Are you romantically attracted to this person?”
“He’s hot. Like a ten out of ten. But the moment he opens his mouth, I just want to punch him in the face—not that I would.” Just knee him in the balls.
“Okay, well, you know what to do to manage your panic attacks when they happen. It’s best you try to minimize your contact with someone who isn’t respecting your boundaries, or consider eliminating them from your life as much as possible. In the meantime, I want you to try and open up more with someone—one of your new friends perhaps? Share some things with them about yourself. I know personal sharing is hard for you, especially with your situation. But this can be simply what your dreams are or fond memories. Open up,” Dr. Martinez instructed.
Mia swallowed, shifting uneasily in her seat. Her heart raced as she forced in a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. I will.”
Mia said her goodbye and signed off.
Ding-dong. Mia closed the laptop and jogged down the stairs to peer out the peephole of the front door. Two smiling faces greeted her as she opened it.
“Hey, chicas. What are you doing here?”
Remy handed her a basket filled with two bottles of wine and baked goods. “We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”
“Come on in. Thank you so much. This is so kind of you.” Mia accepted the basket as the women entered her home.
“No pequeños, little ones, today?” Mia asked.
“No, Mikel and Bently are on baby duty so we could have some girl time.” Jasmine smiled, tucking a dark strand of hair behind her ear. Jasmine’s almond-shaped eyes looked nothing like her brother’s.
“Perfecto. You can help me drink these,” Mia said, pulling the wine from the basket as she searched her drawer for a corkscrew.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Remy sighed as she sat in one of the barstools around the kitchen island.
“Please make yourself at home.” Mia encouraged Jasmine, who had held back.
They poured their drinks, and the conversation flowed more easily as one bottle turned into two.
“I have to say, I have never done day-drinking before, but I think it’s highly underrated.” Mia chuckled.
“There isn’t much opportunity for me as I’m almost always in mommy mode,” Jasmine said tracing the rim of her glass with her finger.
“I don’t usually drink more than one glass a couple times a year for special occasions, so I may be a little drunk right now,” Remy said before she hiccupped.
The women all shared a laugh.
Mia patted Remy’s thigh, about to say something, when the rough bump along her friend’s skin drew her attention. She immediately retracted her hand, noticing the long scar. “I’m so sorry. I was just going to tell you that it means you have to spend the afternoon with me until you sober up,” Mia said, hoping her apology was enough. She didn’t mean to draw attention to her friend’s injury.
Remy waved her hand. “Please don’t worry.” She pulled up her floral sundress to expose the full length of the healed dark flesh. “It’s a long story, but basically there was an intruder in my home and I was the only person to stop him from going after my daughter.”
Mia swallowed. Tears welled in her eyes. “Dios mío. I’m so sorry. I’m glad you and Lyra both made it out of that horrible situation.” She wiped her eyes.
“We all have different things we’ve had to face. I like to think I came out stronger from it,” Remy said, eyeing Jasmine.
Share something about yourself with your new friends. Open yourself. Her therapist’s words rang through her mind.
“That’s why I started doing yoga,” Mia blurted out.
“What’s why?” Jasmine asked, seeming intrigued.
“To help with . . . trauma,” Mia explained. Boy, when she decided to be more open, she went straight into the deep end. “It helps me connect my mind and body, to have something to look forward to, and to keep moving even when I feel . . . too depressed.”
“Maybe it could help me,” Jasmine said, her eyes meeting Mia’s as an understanding passed between the women.
“When should we have our first session?” Mia laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
“Tomorrow at the beach. We’re having a cookout at the cove,” Remy said.
“It’s a date,” Mia agreed.
Was it too much to hope Andre wouldn’t be there?
7
Mia
The cool water was cleansing against her feet. Everything about the beach helped to ground her. The salty sea breeze and the wet sand between her toes. She closed her eyes, listening to the steady crashing of the waves as the tide began to recede. Seagulls cawed in the distance, most likely searching for scraps of food and other edible sea life.
“Okay, the guys have the kids, so we’re ready to do this.” Remy’s voice approached from behind her. So far, she’d been lucky that Andre hadn’t shown.
Mia opened her eyes and took in the sight of her two new friends. Remy’s dark skin was stunning with the white bikini she wore in contrast. She didn’t seem afraid to show the scar in the center of her thigh. Remy wore it more like a badge of honor—the mark of a warrior. If only Mia could be as open about hers.
“Yes. I’m excited to try this out.” Jasmine’s smaller frame fit snugly in an emerald-green one-piece that matched her eyes.
“I love that color on you,” Remy said, motioning towards the red bikini Mia had thrown on with a pair of white shorts.
“Thank you. You both look stunning as always. Hermosa,” Mia answered, walking towards the dry sand. She took a deep breath and centered herself as they made their way over to the yoga mats she’d already spread out for them.
“Choose a mat and sit in a comfortable pose.” Mia sat and crossed her legs, demonstrating. She closed her eyes. “Bring your hands to your knees in any way that feels natural to you. I like to touch my pointer finger and my thumb together while keeping my palm facing up.” After another moment, she explained, “Throughout our practice today, you must focus on your breath. Slow, steady four-count breaths.”
They stayed like that for a few minutes, until she felt confident that Jasmine and Remy understood. Mia opened her eyes. “Lengthen your spine. You don’t want to slouch. Reach the crown of your head towards the beautiful sun.”
She guided them through the poses, giving them time to understand the positions, and reminded them to breathe slowly.
When they had finished, Mia was sweaty and ready to cool off. “Thank you for practicing with me,” she said, bringing her hands to her heart. “Namaste.”
“Wow. You wouldn�
��t think these moves would be so challenging, but I have a feeling I’m gonna be sore in places I didn’t know existed tomorrow,” Remy joked.
“Thanks, Mia. I really enjoyed this.” Jasmine smiled.
“I was just glad to have the company.” She rolled her mat alongside the other two women before she walked over to their picnic table. Bently held baby Zoey, laughing as he pointed out their surroundings. Lyra was running from Mikel, giggling as he tried to catch her. Mia couldn’t help the smile that came to her own face as she took the atmosphere in. These were her people—there was no doubt. For the first time since she’d lost her mother and left the only friends she had in the world back in California, she felt like a piece of home had been restored.
But then her eyes met his. Andre had shown up after all. He held Phoenix, his gaze targeted on her. She lifted her chin in defiance. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how he affected her. She placed her mat in a pile, Remy and Jasmine following her lead.
“I’ve worked up an appetite. Is the food ready?” Remy asked Mikel as Lyra ran into her legs, clutching her mother for safety.
Flashes assaulted Mia’s vision. The scent of her mother coated with fear as Mia clung to her. Only in Mia’s memory, it wasn’t a father chasing her in a child’s game—it was a real monster.
“Ahhh! Mommy, save me,” Lyra yelled, bringing her back to the present. Mia dug her feet farther in the sand as she focused on five things. Something she could see, hear, smell, taste, and touch. She grounded herself against the flashback.
“We’ve been kind of busy,” Bently answered as Mikel caught his breath, motioning towards the baby in his arms.
“You could have worn her and started lunch. I’m starving,” Remy complained.
“Here. Zoey probably needs to have some milk and take a nap anyway,” Jasmine said, reaching her arms out to her daughter.
“I had Mikel set up those two umbrellas when we got here. It might be more comfortable for you to nurse there if you want,” Remy said.
Andre stared at Mia in silence, anger radiating from him as he seemed totally oblivious to what was going on around him. The baby in his arms started to cry. Even the child could sense his fury.
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