Mess with Me

by Nicole Helm

  She peeked her head into the first one and found Will sprawled out on a twin bed with a bottle of liquor in the crook of his arm, his eyes on a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall.

  “Knock, knock.”

  Will didn’t make a move to greet her. All he offered was the most deliberate flick of a glance before his attention went back to the TV.

  But Hayley stood resolutely in the doorway. “I thought we should talk.”

  “Save us both the air and go home, Hayley.”

  Home. It was quite the unintended barb. Where the hell was home? She was loath to think about where he might hit if he actually tried.

  Hayley felt incredibly unsure of herself. Ever since James’s visit, she’d felt off-kilter and uncertain. She tried to think back to when she’d had the courage to stand up to Sam, to push him. She’d wanted to challenge him and get through to him. The point of doing that had been to learn how to do it. To test it on someone who didn’t matter.

  “This is all very brotherly-sisterly. Me invading your space, you telling me to leave. If I had a dollar for every time my stepbrother told me to . . .” She trailed off, feeling like a tool. James had been jealous of the relationship she was trying to build with Brandon and Will. Wouldn’t it make sense if they were jealous of James and a sibling relationship she already had?

  “Look, I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at just about everybody else. But you have nothing to do with this.”

  Ouch. He could not have said anything more hurtful. It was true. She had nothing to do with this. This had nothing to do with her. She was not involved. She did not belong.

  Yeah, ouch. “Well, if that’s true, then maybe you could talk to me, if you can’t talk to them,” she offered, probably too hopefully as she took a careful step into the room.

  He took a long drink straight from the bottle, staring at her the whole time. When he lowered it, she couldn’t read the expression on his face.

  “There’s nothing to talk about. Not with you. Not even with Sam or Tori. It’s all in the bullshit past where it belongs. And, like I said, nothing to do with you, okay? Since we don’t know each other that well, and I really don’t need a friend, or to lose my temper, do yourself a favor and get the hell out of here.”

  “Okay. I’ll go,” she said, hating the meek note to her voice. “I just wanted you to know that if something I did caused you pain, I’m sorry. I was afraid to approach you guys for a long time, and I never once thought about how you might feel about that. I only thought about my own fear and what I knew about my—our father.” Hayley was digging herself a hole.

  She wrung her hands and tried to find a point to all this. “The thing is, I finally talked to you guys because . . . It was easy to be brave with Sam, so why shouldn’t it be easy to be brave with you guys? It’s not easy. None of this is easy, but I’m sorry. That we all had to get hurt in this thing, and I don’t think any of us deserved it or are to blame for it.” She hoped.

  Will sat up and gave her a squinty-eyed stare. He seemed pretty with-it, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he was slightly inebriated. “Why was it easy to be brave with Sam?”

  Hayley’s face heated against her will. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.

  “You know that Sam’s a fucking mess, right?” Will continued.

  “Says the man lying in bed cuddling with a bottle of booze,” Hayley responded, wishing she could eat the words the minute they were out of her mouth. Defending Sam, especially that harshly, wasn’t doing her any favors.

  Will’s gaze sharpened. “I never said I wasn’t a mess too, but I’m not the one it was easy to be brave with. Is there something going on between you and Sa—”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  Will sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed. “So there is?” he demanded incredulously.

  “No! I’m not saying that. I’m saying that . . .” Oh crap, what had she gotten herself into? “Nothing that I do is your business in that regard and—”

  “What regard?”

  “Whatever regard it is that you’re hinting at,” she snapped, feeling her temper and her nerves fray.

  “Brandon will kill him. You know that, right?”

  Hayley rolled her eyes. “Why? Because I’m so important to you two, and Sam’s not?”

  “You can’t get involved with our friend,” Will said, so resolutely that she, for the very first time, had the inclination to slap him, much like she’d slapped James when she was a kid and he was being a dick.

  “You can’t tell me what to do. This isn’t . . .” She trailed off because she was so angry she didn’t have words. James’s high-handed bullshit was one thing—he’d been her brother for more than half her life. This man did not get to pull the big brother stuff without putting in the time.

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Will said, his voice carrying a deadly edge. “And I hear the way you talk about him. And Sam has changed in the weeks you’ve been training with him.”

  Hayley scoffed. “Changed how?” Sam had opened up and loosened up, but she questioned that someone could see it if they weren’t looking for it.

  She remembered the kiss from last night. Quick and sweet. His soothing hug comforting her this afternoon when she’d screwed up everything. Okay, maybe it was a visible change.

  “I’ve seen glimpses of the Sam I used to know. Not just the Sam I’d go to parties with or be a dipshit with, but the real Sam underneath all of that. The genuinely good guy who me and Brandon would have trusted with our lives. Since you came along, I have seen glimpses of the good there used to be in him.”

  Hayley tried to fend off the wave of pleasure that swept through her that Sam had changed that much, that she might have had something to do with it and other people recognized it.

  “I guess you should thank me then,” she said, trying for sarcasm and failing. Miserably. She was too pleased she might have been an agent of change in Sam. If she could change him, and herself... what couldn’t she do?

  “I would thank you, if I thought you had any hope of making that change permanent.”

  It shouldn’t hurt. She didn’t think he meant it the way it sounded. As though any lack of permanence was her failing, not Sam’s. But that thought snaked inside of her, a poisonous little stream.

  For weeks she’d been climbing into happy. James’s visit had knocked things around a little, and ever since, things had been regressing. She’d felt less like she belonged, like this was where she should be. That these people wanted her in their lives.

  Sam was opening up, and there was a chance for them. There was. She was sure of it. Or, she had been.

  “Well, I’ll leave you to be a miserable drunk,” she said, more than happy to take her anger out on him rather than admit it had to do with her. Hadn’t that been why she was angry at James? Because she was afraid he was right. She was always afraid someone else was right.

  “I’m sorry I ever apologized,” she said, disgust dripping from her words as she turned to exit.

  “Now this? This actually feels like an Evans family moment,” Will said at her retreating back.

  She should laugh, but she couldn’t find it in her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sam hadn’t been to a wedding in he didn’t know how long. He couldn’t even begin to think about the last time he’d worn a suit, because he was pretty sure it had been Abby’s funeral.

  It was odd how that pang could change. Something about being around more people, talking—not just to Hayley, but with Tori, and about wedding plans—this sort of odd half-forced, half-chosen re-entry into the actual living of life dulled the sharp edges of that pain.

  It still hurt that Abby was gone, he still suffered from a heavy dose of guilt, but it was more sad than angry. More wistful than damaging. When you actually lived life, you had to come to grips with the fact you couldn’t change it. Not anything that had happened.

  There were definitely some mixed feelings about the pro
spect of watching Brandon and Lilly get married this afternoon, in that it made him think about Abby never getting the chance, but celebrating the marriage and love of two people who were very important to him was important in its own right. Special.

  All things he’d never say aloud, but would ruminate on all by himself.

  He finished packing the little bag to take down to Mile High headquarters, where he would be getting ready with Will and Brandon. Tori sat at his kitchen table, watching him with an eagle eye and an expression Sam couldn’t read.

  She hadn’t bolted when he’d told her that Will and Brandon knew she was here, but neither had she said anything about actually talking to the Evans brothers. She had stayed hidden at Sam’s cabin, and her days were running out. Sam got the feeling she didn’t believe that he’d actually kick her out once the two weeks were up, but he was going to have to draw a line in the sand. Because he owed some loyalty to Will too, and because he was tired of sharing his tiny cabin with the small but noisy woman at his table and the giant dog who sat at her feet.

  “You could come, you know. I think it’s a gesture Brandon would appreciate.”

  Tori didn’t say anything, and in the end she shrugged. She didn’t offer one word, just shrugged. Sam sighed.

  “Well, there will be signs all along the trail to get you to the wedding if you change your mind. Ceremony starts at four, the reception will directly follow and goes as long as it goes.”

  Not an iota of a reaction, she looked at him blankly, moving to idly pet Sarge.

  “I know you don’t want to tell me what’s really going on, and that’s fine. But you came to Gracely for a reason. You’re here for a reason, and after what? Seven some years? As someone who . . . didn’t deal with their shit in all that time, I can tell you, it’s not going to get easier.”

  A knock sounded at the door and Sam knew it would be Hayley, with Lilly’s nephew and Skeet, to move the arbor to the wedding site.

  “Because you’ve dealt with all your shit, Sam?” Tori muttered disgustedly.

  “I’m getting there,” Sam returned, opening the door to the woman who had flicked that particular domino.

  It was an odd trio. Hayley, Skeet, and a ten-year-old boy. But Sam had no doubt they would figure it all out. If only because Lilly was somewhere, willing it so.

  “Morning, guys,” Sam greeted. “I’ll help you get the arbor onto the truck, and then it’s up to you guys from there.”

  He slung his bag over his shoulder and followed Hayley, Skeet, and Micah outside.

  They worked together to walk the arbor down the pathway and into Brandon’s truck, which Hayley had borrowed this morning.

  “So, how many times do you think Lilly will come check in on us?” Hayley asked with a grin.

  “Well, if she had her way? Approximately forty-two, but I think her sister will tie her to a chair if at all possible.”

  “Yeah, my mom already told Aunt Lilly she’d do it happily,” Micah piped up. Clearly the boy was getting some enjoyment out of being counted among the adults. Although he was only ten, he was a tall kid, strong and eager to help.

  “If you have any problems, call down to Mile High. One of us will do what we can.”

  “We will,” Hayley said, and although she talked as cheerfully as she usually did, Sam was getting adept enough at reading her that he knew something was wrong. She wasn’t her exuberant, happy self, especially on the day of the wedding that she had been pretty excited about.

  “Everything okay?”

  Her smile widened, still not its normal wattage even if it was its normal size. “Everything is great.”

  Sam had the unrelenting urge to do something as simple as brush a kiss against her mouth. Just a simple I’m here. It was still disorienting to want to offer those things, but Hayley always made it easy.

  Still, he didn’t move. This was complicated. Skeet was no great conversationalist, but Sam knew he’d tell everyone in a heartbeat if he saw any signs of romance between him and Hayley.

  A romance which just . . . wasn’t going to fly. Not today and probably not anytime soon. A lot of things needed to be worked out first.

  So, he said his goodbyes and went to his Jeep. He drove down to Mile High headquarters knowing he needed to screw his head on straight. Which meant not worrying about Hayley. She was a grown woman. She could take care of herself.

  The plan was for Lilly to get ready at her house with her sister, along with the florist and photographer. Brandon, Will, and Sam were supposed to get ready by themselves, wait for the photographer to arrive for pictures, and then they would head up to the ceremony, then do some pictures all together afterwards.

  Sam was looking forward to precisely none of this, though he had determined that he wasn’t going to complain. He was going to force his best happy face and do whatever Lilly or Brandon asked of him.

  He doubled that determination when he walked in to see Will slumped in an armchair looking extraordinarily hungover.

  Brandon was dressed in his suit, talking with someone on video chat.

  “Will and Sam aren’t dressed yet, so you cannot okay them. I would also like to point out this is insanity and we know how to dress ourselves.”

  As Sam approached he could see the screen of Brandon’s phone. Apparently he was video chatting a wall.

  “The arbor is being delivered as we speak,” Sam offered, figuring the mystery figure on the other end of the chat was Lilly.

  “I wonder if I should run up to check and make sure—”

  “Hayley and Skeet have it covered. You know they wouldn’t let you down.”

  There was an exhaled breath.

  “Do you know how creepy it is to talk to a blank wall?” Sam asked.

  “Get dressed if you would, please,” Lilly said with a kind of fake cheerfulness. “You too, Will.”

  Will grunted something and lurched to his feet, muttering disgruntled curses as he walked down the hall. Sam followed Will into the office-slash-bedroom that was Will and Brandon’s. Sam tossed his bag on the bed while Will glared at the suits that were hung up in the open closet.

  He collapsed onto the bed. “You know, I thought we had more time to, I don’t know, not get dressed in these monkey suits.”

  “Lilly wants pictures before. She told you that.”

  “This is why you elope to Las Vegas,” Will grumbled, crossing his arms over his face.

  Sam gave Will a doleful look that Will couldn’t see but he certainly had to feel.

  “I get it didn’t work out for me, but I married a lingerie model. That wouldn’t have worked if I got married in the Vatican.”

  “You know you have to get your shit together, right?” Because Will kind of frayed and hungover at his brother’s wedding . . . it was more than slightly concerning.

  “Don’t push me right now, Sam,” Will said in a low, serious voice.

  “I’m just telling you. As a friend. If the situation were reversed, you would tell me the same thing.”

  “If the situation were reversed, would I be poking my nose—and possibly other extremities—around my newly found half sister?”

  Sam froze. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re not very covert about it. The least you could do is pretend like you don’t want to get in her pants.”

  “The last time I’ve been near anyone’s pants was about a millennia ago, so maybe you want to back off.”

  “I see the way you look at her. I see the way she acts around you. I’m just letting you know, friend, you better be damn careful where you step.”

  “If this is about Tor—”

  “Nothing is about that b . . .” He trailed off as his eyes went wide, his gaze stuck on the doorway.

  And there was Tori. Somehow, out of the blue, standing there, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “That what?” Tori asked, eyebrow raised. As if she had a damn right. Well, Tori had never been very good at knowing when to back down from a fight.

  The loo
k on Will’s face made Sam regret he’d ever kept Tori a secret. This was bigger than he’d understood, and he could only see it now in the violent shimmer of air between two of his best friends.

  “When I said you could come to the wedding, I didn’t quite mean this,” Sam murmured.

  “I wanted to make sure I had Brandon’s seal of approval before I crashed his wedding. He was surprisingly ecstatic about it. Unlike some people.”

  “Tori. Come on. Don’t push.”

  “Oh, what? Can’t Will take it?” She gave the silent man in question a fake sad look. “Is he so fragile he can’t take a little push? Needs big old Sam to protect him?”

  Will slid off the bed and took a few steps toward Tori—slow, measured, predatory steps. Tori didn’t back down, and Sam could only stare, frozen. He should break this up, but at the same time, was it his business to break this up? He might have a little inkling of what had happened between them, but surely there was something he was missing for them to display this much animosity.

  Will towered over Tori, who stood there taking his blazing fury with her chin up, giving back her own fury tenfold.

  There was nothing but a potent, angry silence. Sam didn’t know how to interfere without making everything worse.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Will said, his voice sharp as an ax blade. “I have to use the restroom. And you are in my way.”

  “That’s quite a greeting.”

  “Maybe if you disappear for another seven and a half years and come back, I’ll have a different one. But for now, stay the fuck out of my way.”

  He took another step forward and Tori finally gave in, moving her shoulder out of the way so he could pass. They carefully avoided touching one another.

  Sam let out a breath, rubbing his fingers against his forehead.

  “Did you really have to do that on Brandon’s wedding day?”

  “You’re the reason they know I’m here, and you said I should come. Brandon did welcome me, regardless of his idiot brother’s feelings. So I’m going to be at the wedding.”

  “That’s fine, but could you at least remain scarce until the ceremony?”