by Kennedy Fox
I turn around and stalk toward him. “The fuck did you just call her?”
“I think you heard me loud and clear.” He stands taller, brave.
“Better back the hell off,” I warn him.
“I was asking her out, and you come up and pay for her beer, and now she’s willing to go home with you?” He scoffs. “So yeah, she’s a whore. A cheap one too.”
It takes me less than a second to pull my arm back and deck this asshole in the nose. He whips back, then hunches over, covering his face with both hands.
“Hunter!” Lennon screeches, grabbing my attention. “He’s not worth it! He’s drunk,” she tells me. She’s never seen me fight before, which is something I don’t talk about anyway. I’ve been fighting since I was a teen; not that my dad left me any other choice.
The guy pushes against my chest, blood dripping from his nose. “What the fuck was that for, you pussy!”
People at the bar fan out, not wanting to get in the way. I vaguely hear the bartender telling us to get the hell out, but the moment this fuck calls her a whore again, I see red and lose my cool.
I swing again, my fist connecting with his face even harder this time. That should successfully break his nose. “You gonna apologize to her, dickwad. Have some fuckin’ manners when talking to a lady next time.”
Before I get a response, Mason and Liam are pulling me away as the bartender threatens to call the police. They walk me toward the door, and I push them off before we get out.
“I can walk myself,” I tell them. I’m so fired up, I might punch anyone who puts their hands on me.
The crisp air slaps me as I hit the sidewalk and start walking. I’m not leaving without Lennon, but she’s probably pissed at me for ruining her evening.
I turn around and wait for her to come out. The guys left me out here to calm down so I don’t get arrested, but I need to make sure Lennon’s okay.
Moments later, she comes rushing out and looks for me. I say her name, and she hurries toward me. I’m in complete shock when she runs forward, wrapping her arms around me. She hugs me so tight, I feel every inch of her body. I wrap an arm around her and hold her closely. She pulls back slightly and inspects me for injuries.
“Are you okay?” Her voice shakes.
“Lennon, I’m fine. The guy barely touched me.”
I glance over her head and see Liam and Mason. They’re staring at me in disapproval, but fuck what they think. They have no idea that I’ve beat myself up every single day for having feelings for Brandon’s girlfriend. I tried to fight it, and neither knows the pain this causes me. I know she could never be more than a friend. It’s all we can ever be. The fact that I knew Brandon’s plan to propose eats at me daily, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Telling her would only hurt her, and she’s finally allowing herself to have a good time again.
Looking down at Lennon, I see her lips tremble. “Are you alright?” I grab her shoulders and force her eyes on mine.
“I can’t believe you did that,” she says, studying my face. “Why would you get into a fight because of me?”
The fact she’s asking these questions means she has no idea how I feel.
Friends. Just friends.
“Because that asshole called you a whore. He couldn’t deal with your rejection.”
“So that merits hitting him in the face…several times?” I’m not sure if she’s scolding or ready to high-five me.
I release her and brush a hand through my hair. “Lennon, listen.” I pause, trying to get my thoughts straight.
“Thank you,” she says before I can speak. Her words take me by surprise, and I’m not sure I even heard her correctly. “No one’s ever stood up for me before. When he asked if I was single, I just…froze. It was like I couldn’t get the words out. I didn’t want to say them.”
“I know, Lennon.” I give her a sincere look. “Wait. You aren’t mad at me?”
“Are you kidding? No. I mean, I don’t usually encourage fights, but hell, that guy wouldn’t get a clue even if I shoved it up his ass.”
Her words have me laughing and pulling her in for another hug, then I kiss the top of her head. Fuck it, I’m going to hell anyway for the dirty thoughts I’ve had about her.
“Still, I should’ve controlled my temper,” I say, separating us. “Sorry for wrecking your night out.”
“You didn’t.” She shakes her head. “Thanks for having my back.”
“Of course. Always, Lennon.”
Her face contorts, and I know I’m probably confusing the shit out of her right now. She has no reason to believe those words, considering how I’ve treated her in the past, but I’m determined to be exactly what she needs—a friend, someone to rely on, and someone she can trust.
We ride to the apartment in silence, and it’s not even midnight by the time we make it home. Lennon walks to her bedroom, and for a moment, I think she’s going to sleep in there tonight, but then she comes out with a change of clothes.
“It’s still early. Wanna watch a few episodes of Friends? I’m not tired enough to sleep.” The hopeful look in her eyes has me nodding in agreement.
Even though I should just go to bed and cool off, I can’t deny Lennon. She doesn’t want to be alone, so I’ll do whatever she needs.
“I’m going to wash off this makeup and change in the bathroom if you want to get out of your clothes.”
“Yeah, I’ll go grab some.” I walk to my bedroom and pull out a pair of gray sweatpants. I strip down to my boxers then slide them on. It’s been a while since I’ve done laundry, and now I can’t find my favorite California State University T-shirt.
“Hey, Lennon?” I tap my knuckles on the bathroom door. “Did I leave my black CSU shirt in there by chance?”
She opens the door in her pajamas and stands in front of me with a toothbrush in her mouth. “Huh?” Her eyes widen the second she stares up at me. Her gaze rakes down my chest, and I arch a brow at the way she’s gawking.
I clear my throat. “Is my CSU shirt in there?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe and cross my arms.
“Uh…” She blinks then looks around. “Oh.” She holds up a finger, then turns to the sink and rinses out her mouth before facing me again. “I borrowed it. It’s in my laundry basket.”
I raise my eyebrows, not saying a thing. She wore my shirt? I don’t know why this seems so sexy, but I quickly shake the thoughts away.
“I got really warm in my leggings and sweater the other night and was afraid I’d wake you if I came in to get a pair of shorts, so I grabbed the first thing I found. I’m sorry.” Her voice sounds so small when she apologizes, and it causes me to smile and laugh.
“Don’t be. I was just looking for it and couldn’t find it. No biggie. But don’t think we’re swapping clothes now.” I flash her a wink, and she teasingly shoves me.
“Funny. Now go put on a shirt.”
“What’re you trying to say? Don’t like my muscles and tats? That’s like every girl’s wet dream,” I taunt, backing away into the hallway toward my room.
“Trust me, I know. I’ve met your parade of women.” She rolls her eyes but playfully smirks, so I know she’s not really that annoyed.
Ten minutes later, we’re on the couch watching the episode where Rachel and Ross get into a fight and take a break. During the whole episode, Lennon grins, and it’s hard not to smile right along with her. It’s so damn contagious.
“Seriously,” she begins. “Who gets into a fight with their girlfriend and just jumps into bed with the first chick he finds? Ugh. He’s my most disliked character on this show.” She grumbles about it, which is freaking adorable. She’s getting all worked up over a TV show that’s almost as old as we are.
“But they were on a break?” I say smugly.
She shoves me and hisses. “So? He couldn’t go one night without getting a woman’s attention? Oh wait, look who I’m asking?” she teases, rewarding me with a playful smile.
“Really?”
I smirk at her dig and put a hand over my heart. “I almost got into a fight for you,” I quip, and she rolls her eyes.
“I can tell it was a real hardship.” She chuckles, her eyes trailing down my body, knowing I don’t have any battle wounds.
“Well, now I can see why Ross went crazy. Girls.” I shake my head, that nagging feeling hitting me hard in the gut just like when Liam and Mason looked at me as if they knew my secret. The one I’ve tried so damn hard to hide.
“Uh, no. He could’ve kept it in his pants,” she states matter-of-factly.
“Hey, he was trying to be sweet and romantic for their anniversary, and she basically told him her job was more important,” I try to defend the guy, but it’s a lost cause. I already know he’s an idiot for cheating on a woman like Rachel.
Oh my God. Now she has me thinking these characters are real people.
Fuck my life.
“We need something else to watch.” I deadpan. “I’m too invested.”
Lennon snorts. “There’s a new series I want to watch. It’s based on a book and is about a hot stalker or something.”
I face her with both brows perked up. “What’s wrong with you?” I laugh. “He’s hot, so it’s okay he’s a stalker?”
She pinches her lips and rolls them from side to side, bobbing her head. “Essentially.” Then she shrugs. “It’s called You.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Let’s just watch the first one,” she suggests.
“The last time you said that, we ended up ten episodes deep into Friends.”
She sighs and glances at me. “And look how into it you are now.” Lennon smirks proudly, then laughs. “Okay, maybe you’re right. I should go to bed anyway.” She raises her arms over her head and stretches, the fabric of her shirt rising up slightly.
She doesn’t move to get up, so neither do I. Lennon glances over at me but doesn’t say anything. She fidgets with the hem of her shirt and stays silent.
“What is it?” I ask, grabbing her attention. “I can see something’s on your mind.”
Lennon nods, then turns to face me. “Earlier, you said you should’ve controlled your temper.”
I nod.
“Has that always been an issue for you, or is it recent?” she asks.
Fuck. I hadn’t expected her to ask something like that. It’s a part of my past I don’t talk about much to anyone. Actually, not even Mason and Liam know much about my family. Only Brandon knew the ugly truth.
“I guess, around middle school.” I shrug, ashamed to admit it.
“Why’s that? Does something trigger it?” she asks, genuinely curious.
“Well, if you really wanna know, I’ll tell you,” I begin and swallow hard.
She nods, keeping her eyes locked on mine.
“I’m not sure how much Brandon told you about me, but my dad’s a state senator.”
Lennon’s eyes widen. “Oh my God. Harris Manning. I never put two and two together.” I’m actually impressed she knows him by name, considering anyone else I’ve told or talks about the government to has no clue. “That’s your dad? How cool.”
“Yeah, unfortunately.”
“Oh. Sorry. Not a good relationship, huh?” she asks.
“Nope. He’s been in politics my whole life. Started on the city council, then ran and won for mayor of Sacramento, then worked his way up to attorney general, then lieutenant governor of California, and now he’s a senator. He’s always picked his career over his family yet still had time to pressure my brother Hayden and me into playing football all through middle and high school and then college.”
“I thought you loved playing football?”
“Didn’t have a choice. I grew to eventually like it. Mostly because I was able to channel my anger for him through sacking other people.” I half-laugh, but it’s true. I put all my rage into the sport.
“So you didn’t have a good relationship because of all that?”
“Wasn’t just that.” I inhale, thinking about how much I want to share. Deciding to say fuck it, I tell her the truth. “He had an affair for years, and the media found out. His money covered it up mostly, then he put on this whole charade about having the perfect happy family. Two sons who played football. A loyal wife. He sold himself as a family man to get re-elected over and over, and as ridiculous as it was, it worked. I hated him for it. I hated how the people fell for it too.”
“Oh God.” She sucks in a breath, her gaze never wavering from mine. “That’s awful. How could he do that?”
“Because he’s corrupted by money and his career. I was so pissed when I found out what he did to my mother, but she didn’t leave. I still don’t know why she stayed or continues to. I love her, but I wish she’d get out.”
“Maybe she feels like she has no choice,” she suggests with a half-shrug. “A lot of women feel that way, especially when the man is the breadwinner. Maybe she didn’t want you and Hayden to have a broken home. Did you ever ask her?”
“I did after the media released it. She told me it was a misunderstanding. Clearly, she was in denial.” I groan, remembering it so clearly. “I knew there was no fucking way. There were pictures.”
“Eww.” Lennon scrunches her nose. “Did your dad ever talk to you boys about it or anything?”
“Nah. He’d have to man up and admit what he did to talk to us. It was swept under the rug like it never happened. He came downstairs for breakfast, talked to us about football and school, then went about his day. Made me so goddamn pissed. That’s when the fights started.”
“With who?”
I shrug, thinking back to my middle and high school days. “Anyone and everyone. In middle school, they’d pick on me for being from a wealthy family, though I never felt that way, and called me a rich snob. They thought since my dad was in politics, it would be fun to mess with me. After a while, I had enough of it and started pushing back. When words weren’t enough to get them to back off, I used my fists. In high school, other team players who got in my face about my dad’s reputation got tackled to the ground even when they weren’t my targets. They all thought I’d do nothing and assumed I wouldn’t be able to because of my last name, but they were wrong because I didn’t care. I didn’t want any part of his campaigns or his life. So instead of dealing with it through words, I fought people to get my feelings out.”
“Wow…” she says, and I realize I probably rambled off way too much information. “I can actually understand that.”
“Oh yeah?” I laugh. “Well, you’d be the first one then.”
“It was your form of rebellion and releasing the pent-up anger you didn’t know how to express. I mean, I sorta did the same thing.”
“You?” I ask.
“Yeah! I dated a guy my freshman year in college. He was my first real boyfriend since my parents were too damn strict to allow me to date in high school. It was a toxic relationship, to say the least, but I didn’t know any better. He used me as an emotional punching bag, and for a long time, I let him. I thought that’s what love felt like. But then I saw my friends in these loving relationships, and their boyfriends were so sweet and caring. I started wondering what was wrong with me because mine wasn’t like that. It finally hit me that it wasn’t me, it was him, and I got so mad. One day, I found out he was messing around with three other chicks, and I felt so filthy. I’d let him be my first everything, and I stupidly trusted him. Everything he’d done to me in the past on top of his cheating made me want revenge. I didn’t want to just break up with him; I wanted him to feel the same kind of pain he’d caused me.”
“I’m kinda scared to ask what you did, Lennon.” I laugh.
“Well, we were at a huge party with all our friends one night. When it was nice and packed, I told him to come stand in the middle of the room with me. I stood on a chair, told everyone to be quiet, then said ‘Malcolm, you sorry, cheating piece of shit. I’m done with you, with how you treat me, and your three-inch dick. It’s not average. So you
can fuck off because I’m done.’ Then I jumped off the chair, grabbed a cup of beer, and—”
“Please tell me you dumped it over his head?” I ask with amusement.
“Hell yeah, I did!” She chuckles. “He totally deserved it too. But anyway, I’d never done anything like that in my entire life. I’d never done anything to grant me extra attention or make a scene before that. However, it was the realization as to what he’d been doing to me, using me, for all those months that finally struck a nerve. I was ready to fight back.”
“Lennon,” I say with a proud smile. “Who knew there was a badass under those polyester clothes?”
She laughs so loud it nearly makes me jump. I love the sound so much. I want to bottle it up and store it away so I can hear it anytime I want.
“It was a one-time thing.”
“Well, I’m glad you stood up for yourself. Bet that guy didn’t get laid for a really long time.”
She snorts. “Pretty sure he left that party with his tiny dick between his legs. Only saw him a couple of times after that actually.”
“I’d hide from you too after that.”
“Ha! I’m not that scary. Just don’t piss me off and there’s no problem.”
“Yeah, I learned that the hard way,” I say as a joke, but then realize it doesn’t come out that way.
Her lips immediately turn into a frown as she looks down in her lap. “I should get to bed.” She pushes herself off the couch and starts to walk away. I’m quick to follow and grab her shoulder.
“Lennon, wait.”
She turns around but doesn’t look up at me.
“I didn’t mean it.”
“Sure, you did,” she says, bringing her eyes to mine. “All we did was fight up until the night Brandon died, so don’t pretend we didn’t. I know you hated me. Maybe you still do.” She shrugs, and I can see the tears forming in her eyes.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“You had every right to get pissed at me then,” I tell her. “You had every right to yell at me, trust me. Just know I never hated you.” Even though I wanted her to think I did. “I’m glad you never took my shit, Lennon. I purposely pushed your buttons, and you pushed back. I’m happy you didn’t put up with it.”