Between Friends

by Sandra Marie

  “It wasn’t bad,” Tommy bit out, adding a smile when Rae rolled her eyes. “What? It wasn’t. You tattooed this baby on that futon.” He lifted his wrist, twisting it enough to show off one of Rae’s earlier works. It was a block of ice melting into a grassy hill, paying tribute to the time he’d ice-blocked into a garbage can and broken his second toe. One of the many times she’d had to cart his dumb butt to the ER.

  “Wow,” Gavin said, leaning in to examine the tattoo. A knot tied up her chest; that tattoo was old, and she’d gotten so much better since. She panicked and grabbed Tommy’s arm, yanking up the short red sleeve of his shirt.

  “I added this one last week,” she said, feeling much more confident in the zombie pit tattoo. Gavin met her eyes briefly, his smile pulling upward in admiration. Pride swept through her and tinged her cheeks pink, she was sure of it, but when she met Tommy’s “are you kidding me” gaze, the pride turned into embarrassment.

  “Shut up,” she muttered, dropping his sleeve. Tommy laughed, and Gavin tilted his head.

  “What?”

  “Oh, he’s making fun of me.” She waved dismissively at Tommy. “Thinks I’m trying to show off.”

  “You’re not?” Tommy teased.

  “No.”

  Tommy raised a knowing brow and stuck his arm toward Gavin. “She did my whole sleeve, actually. If she ain’t gonna show it off, I will.”

  Rae hid her face into her hands, regretting the choice to take Tommy on her first actual meet and greet with Gavin Mills. It was bad enough that she was equally turned on by him as she was frustrated.

  “Do you design them, too?” she heard Gavin ask, and she dropped her hands and nodded. “Maybe I should hire you to revamp the logo and menu.”

  Her spine straightened. “I could do that.” Hell yeah, she could do that. She loved tattooing, and it gave her plenty of opportunity to do design work, but she also was ready to jump at the chance to design other things.

  “She doesn’t come cheap,” Tommy said, and Rae kicked him again.

  “Don’t listen to him.” She took a generous gulp of Coke and pushed from the bar. She held her hand out to Tommy. Reading her mind, he leaned over, tugged on his wallet till it sprung free from his back pocket, and slapped it into her hand.

  “Any requests?”

  “Like you’d listen to me,” Tommy joked. Rae playfully wrinkled her nose and turned to Gavin.

  “I meant you.”

  Gavin’s gaze swung between the two of them, utterly lost in their half-silent, half-vocal conversation. Sometimes Rae forgot that not everyone could keep up with the pair of them.

  “For the jukebox,” she clarified. “I doubt you get to choose the music very often.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Gavin said, topping Tommy’s drink off. “But go with eighties.”

  She snorted, saluting him and then weaving through the tables to the updated jukebox. It was all digital and took a dollar for every song. Thank heavens Tommy’s wallet came cash prepared for any occasion.

  Her gaze floated over her shoulder to the guys. Tommy sat rigid, his spine like a ruler and his leg bouncing against the bottom rung of the barstool. Gavin was a heck of a lot nicer than Brian, that was for sure. He was including Tommy in the conversation, and he hadn’t said anything about Rae and her love handles. Maybe Tommy was more on edge about the Vegas thing than she’d thought.

  She hit “Never Surrender,” took a deep breath, and prayed that this night wouldn’t backfire on her. As the first line rang out across the bar, she spun on her heel and pointed toward the pool tables. “You boys ready to get your asses handed to you?”

  Rae looked cute as hell leaning over the pool table, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. Tommy chalked his cue, giving Gavin the side-eye. The guy was a saint, damn it. Tommy got no bad vibes from him, he was starting up his own business, and he genuinely seemed interested in Rae.

  Then why was Tommy so agitated?

  His back teeth slid off each other, and he nicked the inside of his cheek. A metallic taste filled his mouth, and he swallowed hard, pressing his tongue into the wound. Gavin’s intent, amused look directed toward Rae pulled at a string in Tommy’s chest, slowly unraveling his control. So the guy was beefed up and probably could double for the God of Thunder; Tommy could kill it in any sport—and non-sport—and he had a whole lifetime of memories with Rae on top of that. If she was going to be spending time with anyone, it would be him. He knew that.

  Yeah.

  The clack of ball on ball smacked through the air, and solids and stripes went every which way. The number four and seven toppled into the side pockets.

  “Lady’s choice,” Gavin said, sending Rae a smile that turned her neck red. Tommy slumped against the far wall, biting back a snide comment neither one of them deserved. “You want balls one through five or six through ten?”

  “One through five,” Tommy and Rae answered at the same time. Then they jinxed each other, then ordered another round of Cokes to end the jinx. Gavin eyed them with curious wrinkles along his forehead, and Tommy couldn’t help the smug smirk wrapping his lips.

  Rae took her second shot, missing the one and hitting the eleven closer to the corner pocket. “Ah poop,” she muttered, leaning against the cue. A line of blue chalk smeared right across her cheek.

  “Smooth move,” Tommy teased, taking his position at the cue ball. Rae swiped at her cheek, making a bigger mess. Gavin closed the distance between them in two large steps.

  “Hang on.” He pulled a wet nap from his pocket and gently cleaned her up. Tommy’s smile faded, a growl growing deep in his throat. His palms started to sweat, and he turned his aim from the far left hand pocket. A possessive urge drove his hand away from the easy shot and sent the cue ball soaring. It jutted through the air, leaping a foot from the table and zipping right between Rae and Gavin.

  “Ack!” Rae spewed, jerking out of the way. Guilt erupted in his chest, and laughter came out to wash that damn emotion away.

  “Whoops,” he said, straightening from the shot. “I must be a little rusty.”

  “Guess that makes it my turn,” Gavin said, not even flinching as he retrieved the cue ball. Rae, however, shot an icy glare from across the table, and Tommy tried his best to play innocent.

  Gavin aimed at the eleven and sank it with ease. Rae offered up a high-five, and the clap echoed through the near-empty bar as their hands connected. Tommy’s grip slipped on his cue, and he took a deep breath. He should look at the bright side—if Gavin ended up being “the one,” Rae wouldn’t move. Yeah, she’d stay here in Seattle, stay at Tommy’s Tats… She’d probably spend a lot of extra time at the bar, but he could deal with that. He wasn’t a drinker, but he could play pool, eat peanuts, watch his best friend high-five another guy, kiss him, get married, forgo kids—Rae never wanted kids—and find less and less time to do something stupid with him.

  The clack of billiards shook him and his spiraling thoughts, and as Gavin sunk another, Tommy decided he hated him for hypothetically stealing his best friend in the scenario he’d built in his head.

  “It’s a good thing we went first,” Rae said, wiggling her finger between herself and Tommy. “Or we wouldn’t get to play.”

  Gavin chuckled, leaning over the table. “It helps when you’re around here twenty-four-seven.” He jumped the number two and clacked the fifteen into a side pocket. Tommy regretted his decision to give away his turn.

  “Well, if I was trying to impress the best friend,” he said, quirking a grin and waggling a thumb toward himself, “I’d give him a fair fight.”

  Giggle, giggle, snort. “Yeah right!” Rae called him out. “When have you ever not taken the chance to show off?”

  “All the time.”

  “Name once.” She crossed her arms, the off-the-shoulder tee she wore showing off her chest and black bra strap. Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement under the low bar lights, and something twisted inside him, telling him he’d better memor
ize the way she looked right now—her short red hair sticking up in the back, her stud earrings, the rose and serpent tattoo that ran down her neck and exposed shoulder, her holey jeans and faded red tennis shoes. His best friend was kickass gorgeous. He’d probably better tell her before she was up and gone.

  “See?” she said following his silence, directing it to Gavin who was now one shot away from winning their game. “If you stick around with me, you’ll have to realize I win every argument.”

  Gavin’s mouth turned up, and his gaze connected with Rae’s. He snapped the final ball into the corner pocket without even looking. “I win things, too,” he said. Rae’s neck flushed, and Tommy let his stick drop into the holder with a thud.

  “I need a shot of 151,” Tommy muttered. Not that he’d have one.

  “And I need the ladies room.” Rae slid her cue into the holder next to Tommy’s. “Get me something with fruit in it.”

  “Virgin?” he asked. “Or do you want it dirty?” She giggle snorted, bee-lining it to the restrooms, calling out her preference over her shoulder. There was slight satisfaction that she chose to remain alcohol free tonight along with him. Rae usually only drank when they were out in a group, but when it was the two of them, she held off. With Gavin around, Tommy wasn’t sure if this counted as a group or just the two of them bs-ing like usual.

  Gavin racked up the balls, snugging them into place. He eyed Tommy with a friendly curiosity, but Tommy couldn’t seem to unclench his jaw.

  “You want that drink?” he asked. “Seems like you could use one.”

  “Sure,” Tommy answered, mostly to put Gavin back behind the bar. Having a barrier between any more potential high-fives was good.

  Tommy slid onto a stool next to the only other customer in the place and gave him a head nod. The guy nodded back, then went to his sitcom playing on the TV behind the bar.

  Gavin filled up a shot glass and set it in front of Tommy. He eyed the strong liquid for a sweet second, trying not to remember how much he liked the stuff. He’d rather remember the reasons he gave it up. The fear in Rae’s blue irises that night was burned into his brain.

  Seven years… it’d been seven years since his last drink. That night was the worst, but Tommy was a big believer in no regrets, so he thanked his lucky stars that both him and Rae were alive to learn from his stupidity.

  “Don’t you dare jump,” Rae had said, shivering against the wind as they stood atop an overpass. Tommy’s vision had been blurry, and he registered the fuzzy headlights below and pretended they were fireflies.

  “You love me, right?” he’d teased. “You’re in deep, huh?”

  Rae had swallowed hard, and she inched toward him on the edge of the overpass. “You’re drunk.”

  “Always, buddy. Best way to live.”

  “There are other ways to have fun, you know. That keep your head here with me.”

  He’d blown a raspberry in her direction, swaying where he stood. Adventure without alcohol? She was drunk herself to think that was a good way to have fun.

  “Come here,” he’d said, sloppily waving her over. “Look over the edge with me.”

  “Hell no.”

  “Please?” He pouted, using the eyes he knew she gave in to every time. Rae had always been easy to convince.

  She’d shivered in the cold, a sprinkle of rain starting to descend on them. “If I look, you promise we’ll go home?”

  He’d crossed his heart with a lazy finger, his drunk smile overpowering his face. She’d sidled up next to him against the small railing, peering over with a touch of fear in her eyes. That was the look Tommy liked for himself—that jolt of surprise, that excitement of not knowing what could happen, the unease of the ground he stood on.

  In a drunken haze, he’d grabbed her shoulders, playfully giving her that jolt, that excitement, that unease. But his grip hadn’t been sure, his mind hadn’t been clear, and his body slipped from his control.

  He could still hear her scream; it haunted him every now and again, and it haunted him now as he looked at the full shot glass. All he remembered from that night was waking up in the middle of the road below, Rae by his side, her phone pressed to her ear. Flashing lights, a hospital bed, the beep from the heart monitor. And the singular thought: How am I alive?

  When he’d sobered up, he was a broken man in every sense. He’d asked how Rae hadn’t gone over with him, and she’d sobbed, saying she wish she could’ve caught him, pulled him up… And that hurt just as badly as all the broken bones. It was his damn fault, and he swore to himself and her that another drop wouldn’t touch his lips. And he was a man of his word.

  Tommy pushed the shot to Gavin without flinching.

  “Drink it for me,” he said.

  Gavin gave him a knowing grin, then slid the glass to the guy next to Tommy. “Do you mind?” Gavin asked. “Thomas here has to live vicariously.”

  The guy raised an eyebrow at Tommy. “You sober?”

  “Seven years now. Forgot my pin.”

  The guy chuckled, raised the glass to him, and tipped it back. Tommy sucked in a breath through his teeth, pretending to relish in the drink. He grinned at Gavin. “How’d you know?”

  “Virgin drinks every time you come in.” Gavin ran a rag over the bartop where the shot had spilled. “So… Do you always razz Rae’s dates?”

  “Was this a date?” Tommy asked, playing stupid. “Seemed to me like she wanted my opinion on you.”

  “Does your opinion matter?”

  “To her, hell yeah.” He paused, snagging the empty shot glass from his neighbor. He wiggled it, silently asking him if he could do another. When the guy nodded, Tommy thumped it on the bartop for a refill. “And her opinion matters to me.”

  Gavin tilted his head, his eyes flicking to the bathrooms, then back. He filled up the shot and Tommy sent it his neighbor’s way.

  “No bullshit,” Gavin said, leaning forward. “Do you have feelings for her?”

  Tommy jerked on the stool, catching himself from falling clean off it. “No.”

  “Does she have feelings for you?”

  That made him laugh. “Not a chance.” She would’ve said something by now. Rae wasn’t one to exactly keep quiet about how she felt about something.

  Gavin studied him with his burning green eyes . Tommy felt like he was being peeled open, emotions he didn’t even know springing to the surface. He cleared his throat, jamming the shot glass under Gavin’s nose, hoping to distract him. But the darn guy wasn’t deterred in the slightest.

  “Look,” Gavin said, pouring another shot, “I’m interested in Rae, but I’m not interested in becoming the corner of a triangle. If you’re into her, I’ll step off.”

  Instead of pushing the shot to Tommy, he slid it to the proxy. “Last one, Devin.” The guy toasted them both, then put the glass upside down on the bartop.

  Tommy bit down on the inside of his cheek, running his tongue over the spot he’d chomped earlier. His problem wasn’t with Gavin, really. It was with the whole idea of Rae leaving. She’d dropped this bomb on him not two hours ago, and he was supposed to go on like she wasn’t thinking about abandoning him? If it wasn’t with Vegas, it was with another dude. Shit, he wanted her happy, but he wanted to be the one to do it, but did he have feelings for her?

  He wasn’t sure, and he knew it wasn’t fair to hold onto her, but hell, he was going to do it anyway.

  “So?” Gavin pushed. “Before I make an ass of myself and ask her out, is there something more there?”

  So he was going to ask her out. Why wouldn’t he? Even though Tommy was being a dick, Rae had played it cool. And she looked amazing doing it.

  Before he could answer, the scent of peaches wafted through the air, and his gaze swung over his shoulder. Rae let out her signature giggle giggle snort and shook her head.

  “Trust me,” she said, slumping onto the stool next to Tommy. Her shoulder knocked into his and warmth spread to his heart. “We’re just friends. Sometimes enemies.
” She winked and laughed at her own joke, but barbed wire wrapped around Tommy’s throat, and he dove into the bar pretzels.

  “For now.”

  Her forehead wrinkled in defense. “You can’t dump our friendship. I’m not allowing it.”

  “But you can?” Crap, it was coming. The fuel behind all the words he wanted to say when she told him about the interview flooded through him, pushing them to the back of his tongue.

  “Uh… What?” Gavin asked, and Rae waved a hand to echo his question.

  “Oh, she’s got this interview in Vegas,” Tommy answered, forcing a smile so they might take it like a joke. When it doubt, use sarcasm, even if every bit of what he was about to say was true. “After starting up a business with her best bud, she goes and deserts him for the strip.” He laughed, but it tasted funny on his tongue, like salt instead of sugar.

  Gavin tilted his head, eyes swinging to Rae’s. “You thinking about moving to Vegas?”

  Why wasn’t he pissed? Gavin actually sounded genuinely excited about the idea. Sure, it was a good opportunity, but did he not get that she’d be too far away?

  Rae smiled and relaxed against the bar, and their conversation got lost in a sea of sorrow and anger that swirled in Tommy’s vision. He gritted his teeth, holding back all that he wanted to yell at her and using it as a driving force to come up with a plan to keep her here.

  A good ten minutes passed with Tommy in silence—probably a record—and Gavin, slapped the bartop as a group came in. “Guess I better work,” he said with a laugh.

  Rae popped a maraschino cherry into her mouth. “We should get going, anyway. Message me later?”

  Gavin met Tommy’s eyes briefly. “Sure thing,” he said, then went to serve the newcomers. Tommy jumped from his seat, more than happy to get the hell out of there.

  He grabbed their coats, helping Rae into hers, then headed out into the sideways rain. Tommy clicked his unlock button, and right as he lifted the handle to the passenger door to let Rae in, she pushed it shut with her hip.

  “What is wrong with you?” she asked, her eyes colder than the air around them.