Hit and Run (Hot-Lanta #4)

by Meghan Quinn

  “Don’t fill up my glass that much; I have to drive home,” Jane shouted from the living room, already feeling the effects of the champagne.

  “She’s such a light weight these days,” Albert scoffed, pouring the popcorn into their used bowl. “And I don’t know what she’s talking about driving for; I carted her sorry ass here.”

  “She’s drunk,” Patty pointed out. She peeked around the corner of the kitchen to see Jane playing with the tassels of a blanket that was across the back of the couch. Patty turned to Albert and said, “I’m going to ask her to be my maid of honor.”

  “I think that’s a good decision.”

  “You do?” Patty asked. She thought maybe Albert might be a little more protective of Jane.

  “Hey, I’m getting hungry in here,” Jane shouted, a slur to her voice.

  “Hakuna your tatas in there!” Albert shouted, shutting Jane’s whining up. Albert pointed to the living room and said, “She needs a distraction and she needs to get the hell out of my place. I love the girl to death, but she’s starting to leave imprints in my furniture. It’s time for the girl to pick herself up and go back to her man.”

  Patty brought her voice to a whisper. “Did you know Jane is getting a divorce? Marc told me a little earlier.”

  Albert confirmed with a nod with his lips tight, clearly not happy with Jane’s decision. “Yeah, that won’t be happening. I’ve known Jane for an incredibly long time, and Brady is, by far, the best thing that’s ever happened to her. She will not be divorcing the man, and if I know Brady like I think I do, he won’t be signing any papers that come his way.”

  “That’s good to hear. Marc said he wants to involve the bridal party in as much party planning as possible, so Jane is forced to see Brady. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I feel bad playing with people’s emotions, especially since everyone is still raw from losing Lucy, and then the baby…”

  Gently, Albert rested his hand on her forearm in a nurturing gesture. “I think Marc’s idea is a great one. We can’t force Jane to talk to Brady, but she will feel obligated to be a part of all your wedding escapades, therefore, running into Brady. If anything, it’s one of the best ideas that man of ours has ever had.”

  “Are you sure? I feel weird about it.”

  “Patty, look at her.” Both Albert and Patty leaned to look out the doorway at Jane, lying on the couch, barely picking at the pills on the blanket. Her face was sullen, her demeanor deflated. It wasn’t the same lively Jane they were used to. “She needs him back in her life. They need to move on from what happened. If your wedding can help make that happen, don’t you want to be a part of that?”

  “I do; I want her to get better.”

  “Good!” Albert clapped his hands in glee.

  “Food!” Jane shouted from the living room.

  “God, she’s an annoying bitch,” Albert laughed, grabbing the popcorn and heading into the living room.

  Jane was sprawled across the couch, arms stretched over the back, but once she saw Albert and Patty approaching, she curled up into a side and held out her hand for her champagne.

  “Are we going to watch another movie?” Jane asked, wide awake and ready for another flick. Albert said she got like this on occasion, too wound up to even consider the notion of sleep. Albert believed it was because she went to bed alone every night and truly, deep down, she didn’t want to. The mere thought made Patty’s stomach ache.

  “Maybe we just talk,” Albert suggested. “I don’t need your scrawny ass passing out on us, leaving me to carry you to the car with your mouth hanging open and drool flying around everywhere. Last time I did that, I nearly popped a hernia, put me out of the scene for a few weeks.”

  “Are you calling me fat?” Jane asked, sitting up and grabbing a handful of popcorn.

  “No, I’m saying I’m not the kind of man who walks around carrying girls to cars. I’m not Brady Matthews.”

  Visibly, Jane shrunk at the mention of Brady’s name. Patty felt bad for her, but then again, she knew Albert was using tough love. He was sick of being cautious around Jane; it was time to dig her out of the hole she’d buried herself in.

  “Um, I have a question for you,” Patty stated, breaking the awkward silence that rested between them.

  “Okay,” Jane said meekly, clearly affected by Albert’s comment.

  Was this the right time? Jane’s demeanor changed drastically just at the mere mention of Brady’s name. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Who were they, really, to tell Jane how to feel when they had no clue how she was feeling?

  “Patty wants you to be her maid of honor,” Albert shouted before Patty could ask.

  Patty whipped her head around to give Albert the death stare, letting him know she was not happy, but he could care less, shrugging his shoulders and drinking his champagne.

  “Do you?” Jane asked, some excitement back in her eyes.

  A little unsure, Patty nodded. “I do. Would you be up for it?”

  “Of course!” Jane shouted, pulling Patty into a hug. “I would be so honored. Have you been wanting to ask me all night? Is that what was taking you two so long in the kitchen? You were getting up the nerve to ask me?”

  “Yeah,” Patty semi-lied. “I wasn’t sure how you would feel with everything that’s happened. I didn’t want you to feel obligated.”

  “Obligated? Are you kidding me, Patty? I love you like a sister. Of course I’ll be your maid of honor.” She clapped her hands excitedly. “Oh, this is exactly what I need right now. I will help you with everything. JB Events to the rescue!” Jane said, referring to her party planning company.

  “That’s great. Man, I’m a little relieved,” Patty sighed.

  “What, did you think I was going to say, no?”

  “I just worried about…” Albert kicked her leg and started coughing, cutting her off before she could mention Brady being the best man.

  “Popcorn kernel stuck,” Albert said, patting his chest and finishing off his champagne. “Sorry about that ladies.” Clapping his hands together, he said, “Let’s get started on the planning. Patty, I know you have a book around here somewhere of possible venues. Let’s get cracking.”

  Patty studied Albert for a second. He was glaring at her, telepathically telling her to get a move on, letting her know she was not to speak about Brady being in the wedding. Jane would have to find out organically.

  That was one hell of a look.

  Taking his cue, Patty grabbed her wedding planning book from the counter in her kitchen and brought it over for Jane to look at.

  Quickly, Jane grabbed the book from Patty’s hands and started sorting through it, talking about Patty’s choices in colors, flowers, and venues. Jane was very knowledgeable about all the venues and vendors in the city, so Patty knew not only would she be getting a discount, but that she was also in good hands. Jane wouldn’t steer her wrong.

  Just then, Patty’s phone started to ring. Checking the caller ID, Patty saw that it was Marc.

  “Hey, Sully,” she answered the phone, using his nickname.

  “Hey, beautiful,” his deep voice filtered through the phone, instantly putting her at ease. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. Are you still coming home tomorrow night?”

  “Plan on it, Patty Cakes.” Marc was silent for a second and then asked a question to someone he must be with. “Yeah, I’ll let her know. You there, babe?”

  “I’m here. Who was that?”

  “Brady, he wanted to let you know that he’s on board for cake testing, and will wear a garter if you let him.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” Patty laughed into the phone. “So, I’m assuming he said yes?”

  “Did he really have a choice?” Patty could hear the smile in Marc’s voice.

  “Not if you were asking, no one can say no to that devious smile of yours.”

  “I’m gagging,” Albert said, while holding onto his throat.

  “Um, I should go, we’re ma
king Albert sick with all of our love talk.”

  “Albert can suck my cock,” Marc joked.

  Patty turned to Albert and said, “Marc wants you to suck his cock.”

  “Gladly!” Albert said, reaching for the phone. Patty could hear Marc’s denial in the background.

  Not letting Albert take over, Patty brought the phone back to her ear and laughed. “Don’t ask for what you can’t handle.”

  “Lesson learned,” Marc laughed. “Alright, I’ll let you go. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. See you tomorrow.”

  Patty hung up and held her phone to her chest, as if she was hugging Marc.

  Jane cleared her throat and said, “Let’s focus, Patty.” Jane sure didn’t sugar coat the fact that she wasn’t in the mood to listen to Patty talk to Marc on the phone, nor hear any kind of conversation about love.

  “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

  “Why wouldn’t he be?” Jane asked, looking through pictures of flowers.

  “Because he’s at spring training, and I’m nervous he’s feeling sad about not practicing, since he’s retired.”

  “Was he with Brady?” Jane’s head popped up, her eyes searching Patty’s.

  “Um, yes,” Patty answered nervously.

  “Hey, I need more booze,” Albert interrupted. “Jane, why don’t you help me? Looks like we have a long night of planning ahead of us tonight.”

  Jane slowly turned to Albert and nodded, leading the way to the kitchen.

  Albert threw a wink at Patty over his shoulder and followed behind Jane.

  It was going to be a long three months, Patty thought, as she sank back in the couch and looked at the picture of her and Marc on her phone. If only they were getting married under different circumstances.

  **Nash**

  “Dude, open your damn door,” Luke called from the front of Nash’s house.

  Grunting, Nash got out of his well-worn chair and limped to the front door. Thanks to Fallon and her herbal trade, Nash was in a shit ton of pain. He never realized how much he clouded his senses until he no longer had access to his vices.

  “What do you want?” Nash asked, opening the door to find Luke’s fist raised, about to pound on the door one more time.

  “Why won’t you answer your phone?”

  Nash left the door open and went back to his chair, Luke following closely behind him after he shut the front door. Propping his feet up on the scuffed coffee table, Nash leaned back in his chair and said, “Lost my phone. Can’t answer it when I have no clue where it is.”

  “How the hell did you lose it?”

  “No clue,” Nash shrugged. “Don’t need it anyway. I only used it to contact my fucking pot source, but that little bitch went off to college.”

  Luke took a seat on the couch next to Nash’s chair, putting his feet on the coffee table as well. “The nerve, trying to get an education,” Luke joked.

  Nash sat up in outrage. “He’s not even getting a degree. He went to college to sell. Mother fucker is trying to expand his business. How is that helpful to me?”

  “Can’t be mad at a guy for living the dream. Maybe it’s a good thing. You need to get your life in shape.”

  Nash gave him “get real” look and then held out his hand. “Let me see your phone.”

  “Why?”

  “Just give it to me.”

  “Give it to you? Dude, you really that hard up that you’re turning to me to fulfill your needs.”

  Nash rubbed his forehead and said, “Hey, dick broom, hand me your fucking phone.”

  Reluctantly, Luke handed it over.

  “Any naked pictures in here?” Nash asked, scrolling through his photo app.

  “Do you really think I’m dumb enough to keep naked pictures on my phone?”

  Nash smiled brightly and turned Luke’s phone toward him, showing him a picture of Luke posing in front of a mirror, holding his dick. “You’re sick.”

  Luke shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, I might be dumb, but my girl likes them.”

  Nash turned the phone back toward him and searched for his name in Luke’s phone. “How is the misses?”

  “Good, we went to therapy for the first time the other day.”

  “Talk about your girly feelings?” Nash asked while he dialed his phone, hoping he would possibly hear it in his apartment, praying there was still some battery charge in it.

  “Not quite. Dr. Drake wants me to talk about what happened…” Luke’s voice trailed off.

  “He wants you to tell Molly what those mother fuckers did to you?”

  Just as Luke nodded, the other line picked up and a female voice answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello?” Nash answered. “Who the hell is this?”

  Luke sat forward in his seat while Nash spoke.

  “You can’t talk to me like that,” the woman said, sounding awfully familiar.

  “I can when you have my phone. Who is this?”

  “I should ask you the same question. How do I know this is your phone?”

  Why did she sound so familiar? Nash couldn’t quite place the voice and it was starting to get on his nerves.

  “Because I dialed my phone number and you picked up.”

  “That makes zero sense. You could have dialed any number. How do I know this is your phone?”

  “Fine,” Nash conceded. “It doesn’t have a case like all the other pansy ass people out here and the wallpaper has a picture of a naked blonde on it.”

  “Hmm,” Nash could hear the woman fumbling the phone around. “You’re right about there being no case. Kind of a stupid thing to do, but we won’t go there. Wallpaper, well there is a naked woman, but she’s a redhead.”

  “No way in…” Nash paused for a second and then asked, “Fallon?”

  Right when he said her name, his doorbell rang.

  While he got up to answer, the call dropped. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, opening the door.

  To his surprise, standing on his front step was Fallon, the phone stealer herself.

  She was wearing a pair of cargo shorts that went past her knees, pockets stuffed to the brim with God knows what and a nameless hockey jersey. She looked like a hobo.

  “Why did it take you so long to guess who I was? Is my voice not familiar enough?” She tossed Nash’s phone back and forth in her hands as she spoke to him. “You know, I would be able to tell if it was you calling me. You have a very distinct whine to your voice.”

  Luke snorted from the living room, adding to Nash’s annoyance.

  “Give me my phone,” Nash demanded, while he reached for it, but missed when Fallon stepped backward.

  “Now, now, now, let’s not be too grabby.” Fallon wagged her finger at him. “I believe I deserve a finder’s fee.”

  “You want a finder’s fee?” Nash said, his hands on his hips. “You want a finder’s fee for stealing my phone and then acting like you found it?”

  “Who said I stole it?” Fallon raised her chin in defiance.

  “Well, let’s see. Last time I had my phone was when you were in my car, selling me fucking spaghetti herbs for two hundred dollars.”

  “Yeah, that does sound a little incriminating.” She tapped her chin with her finger. “But I don’t think it was me.”

  “Just give me the damn thing, and I also want my two hundred dollars back.”

  “No can do.” She shook her head and handed Nash the phone. “I spent the two hundred dollars already.”

  “Clearly not on clothes.” Nash nodded at her attire.

  “What’s wrong with my clothes? You don’t think a shirt should big enough that you could curtsey in it?” She demonstrated for Nash.

  He shook his head. “Definitely not.”

  “I think it’s fun, but fine, whatever you say.” Fallon grabbed the hem of her shirt, lifted it over her head and bundled it up in a ball. “That better?”

  Nash had to take a second for his eyes to focus b
ecause Fallon was standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a sports bra. As much as he hated to admit it, she had a sweet rack and a toned stomach.

  “Not really,” Nash lied.

  “Is that right? Then why are you staring at my boobies?”

  “Don’t call them boobies,” Nash sighed with irritation.

  “Uh…isn’t that what they are?”

  “Elementary school kids call them boobies. Call them tits.”

  Fallon shook her head in disgust. “That’s so crude. They’re boobies, and by the looks of it, you want to touch these nippeloons. And when I thought I couldn’t disgust you anymore.”

  Nash was a little surprised by her honesty. Even though she was extremely weird, kind of a nutcase, he didn’t want her thinking she disgusted him. He was an ass, but not that big of an ass.

  “You don’t disgust me, Fallon.”

  “You sure about that? Every time you see me, you cringe, as if it’s painful to be around me.”

  “That’s not true,” he lied again, knowing full well how he reacted to her most of the time.

  Her green eyes glittered with amusement, turning almost olive green from a light moss. Her freckles stood out next to her bright red hair, and for a moment, a small moment, Nash saw a rare beauty come out of her, a different kind of confidence.

  “Prove it,” she challenged.

  “Prove what?” Nash asked, confused and still staring at her tits.

  “Prove I don’t disgust you. Hang out with me for a day.”

  That snapped him out of his haze. He stepped back and shook his head. “I’m busy.”

  “Liar,” she smiled.

  “I have things to do.”

  “Wimp.”

  “Do you think goading me will work?” Nash questioned.

  “You tell me.” The challenging grin had him considering her proposition.

  “He’ll do it,” Luke said, coming up from behind Nash. He held his hand out to Fallon and said, “Hi, I’m Luke.”

  “Luke, very nice to meet you. I’m Fallon.”

  “Nice boobies,” Luke said, nodding at her chest and using her preferred term.