Catching Cassidy

by Melissa Foster

  Her hands are all over me. She’s cupping my balls and stroking me through my shorts, and I’m so hard it hurts. I drag her down to the far end of the building with no endgame. I don’t want to bring her back to my place, not with Cassidy staying there. That would be a dick move, even though we’re not even dating, for Christ’s sake. My car’s at the house, which leaves sex on the beach. A little sand never hurt anyone.

  In my periphery I hear the door to the bar slam and see Cassidy with her arms coiled around the waist of the asshole she was talking to inside, and it stops me cold.

  Lori sucks on my neck and pulls at my shirt. I focus on her to get the image of Cassidy and that guy out of my head. She moves her mouth to my chest and licks a path lower, still stroking the hell out of my dick. I try to ignore the fact that I have zero emotions for this girl and that the fact that she’s not Cassidy sickens me. Sickens me! I try to push the thought away. I know she’ll blow me right here if I let her, but hell if my body isn’t screaming for me to get away from her. I don’t want her blowing me. I want Cass. My eyes seek Cassidy out and find her still standing by the door to the bar, pushing away from the guy. He grabs her hand and pulls her in to him again, shifting so his back is to us and I can’t see what she’s doing.

  “Stop!” Cassidy yells.

  I don’t think about the fact that Lori’s unbuttoned my pants or that I’m hard as a rock. I don’t think about the fact that there’s so much anger coursing through me that I might actually kill this guy as I close the distance between us and yank him off of Cassidy by the scruff of his neck.

  “She said stop.” I have no idea how I manage the words when my fist is hitting his jaw, then going back for his eye, his chest, and just about anything it can connect with.

  He clocks me in the jaw, and I stumble back, for the first time realizing how formidable the guy is. He’s got a good four inches on me. What the hell? Is there a basketball team in town?

  “Don’t! Wyatt!” Cassidy cries.

  I turn, and while I’m turning to look at her, he connects with my jaw and sends me stumbling backward again. I hear the door to the bar slam against the building, but I’m blinded with rage. This asshole represents the tractor trailer that killed my parents. I connect with his gut and he doubles over. He represents the fact that I have to suddenly take over a business I have no clue how to run. A right hook clocks his jaw. My left jab and uppercut send him flat on his back and represent the bullshit that’s got me tied in knots over Cassidy. The final blow that connects with his jaw again and makes his eyes roll back in his head is for everything else. For the way my parents fucked up Delilah, for them leaving us, and for the fuckers who are pulling me off of this asshole before I kill him.

  So much happens over the next few minutes—or hours. I’m not sure how much time passes. The police come, and I have no clue why they don’t arrest me, but they talk a lot and shake their heads and spend forever with Jesse. I know by the look in Jesse’s eyes when he returns to where I’m sitting in the back of the bar that he’s just saved my ass. I’m too drunk and angry to be grateful. I scrub my hand down my face and glance at the booth up front where Cassidy is tucked beneath Tristan’s arm, sitting between him and Ian. Brandon starts playing his guitar again, I guess to ease the tension that’s so thick I need a chainsaw to cut it, but he’s got a bead on me that I can feel like a laser. So fucking what? I’m a drunk, angry asshole tonight. Some things can’t be helped. My parents just died. Cassidy was being mauled by that jerk. I’m allowed to be an asshole. Deal with it.

  I feel a hand on my shoulder and whip around, still seething. My jaw hurts, my hands hurt, and I’m ready for another fight. I must look like it, too, because Delilah steps back. My throat nearly closes up.

  Aw hell. She looks terrified.

  I reach for Delilah’s hand, and she drops her eyes to my bloody knuckles. She runs for the door, tears slipping down her cheeks. I’m right behind her. I pull her into my arms as soon as my feet hit the pier, and she tears herself from me.

  “I’m sorry, Dee.” My voice cracks with my plea, but she’s backing away, stumbling over her own feet. She’s crying and shaking her head, and it’s not just my heart that’s cracking. I feel it tear apart. A searing, deep pain shoots across my chest.

  “You’re an asshole. An asshole,” she says through her tears.

  “Delilah, wait.” I jog to catch up with her, and she turns and runs to the end of the pier, where I see Brooke standing by her car with the door open. Delilah must have called her. Can tonight get any worse? I sprint and throw by body against the door, banging on the window before they can pull away.

  Delilah rolls it down an inch.

  “I’m sorry! Delilah, I’m sorry!”

  “I’m staying with Brooke for a few days.”

  “What?” I have no idea what to say or how to react. I feel like I need to keep her with me. My parents are already gone. Cassidy won’t look at me. I can’t lose Delilah, too. I cling to the window, trying to push it down. “Dee, please!”

  “You want me to watch you fight?” Delilah cries. “We lost Mom and Dad. I’m not going to watch as I lose you, too.” She starts to close the window, and I have to tear my fingers out of the crack before it closes on them.

  Brooke pulls away, and I sink to the ground and bury my face in my hands. The gravel cuts into my knees, and I dig them harder into the sharp, pointed rocks. I need the pain. I need to feel something, because right now I feel like I’ve fallen into an abyss, and I have no idea how to climb back out.

  Chapter Ten

  ~Wyatt~

  THE NEXT MORNING I still feel like a dick, and all I did was try to protect Cassidy, so I’m not sure why. Cassidy and I aren’t dating, so why do I feel like I cheated on her by making out with Lori? My head is so messed up that I stay in bed until nearly eleven o’clock, then finally shower and go downstairs. I wish I could just sleep until this whole mess passes me by. And by this whole mess, I mean my life.

  I know I need to go down to the bar and face the music with Jesse, but it’s the last thing I want to do. I look at the stairs and wonder when Cassidy is going to come down. Probably not until I leave. I stood outside her bedroom door for half an hour this morning, trying to figure out what to say to her, and for the first time ever—ever—I didn’t have a clue. I feel like I’m standing in the eye of a hurricane with blood rushing through my ears and all the pieces of my life, and the people I love, whirring around over my head. I can’t grasp any part of it. Now, on top of our parents dying and the guilt I have about my feelings for Cassidy, having to learn the business and decide if we’re going to keep it, and the shit I really don’t want to deal with, like figuring out what to do in the long-term with the houses, Mom’s car, and our parents’ stuff, Delilah’s moved out. Even if it’s only temporary, I feel like hell for scaring her last night. The look on her face was equally as painful as the look on Cassidy’s when they dragged me off of the guy who was pushing himself on her.

  Tristan walks out of one of the first-floor bedrooms in his boxers. “Hey, Army,” he mumbles as he shuffles into the kitchen and pours a cup of coffee.

  “Hey. You spent the night?” We all walked home in a group last night. One big, silent group. Cassidy wouldn’t even look at me.

  “Figured you guys needed someone to play interference.” He sips his coffee. “You see Cassidy yet this morning?”

  I shake my head, not wanting to talk about last night.

  Tristan leans his hip against the counter and scratches his chest. “Dude, she was a mess.”

  “I know.”

  “Delilah, too.”

  “Yup.” I feel like he’s turning a screw in my chest, but I know he’s just working through shit in his own head.

  “What’s your plan?” He moves to the table and sits down.

  I sit on the edge of the couch and shrug.

  “Delilah will get over this. She’s dealing with everything as best she can.”

  “Yeah.�
� I nod, because there isn’t much to say. It kills me to think that Delilah had to run to Brooke’s to get away from me.

  “What’s up with you and Cassidy?” Tristan holds my gaze, and I know he can tell there’s more to my feelings for Cassidy than there used to be.

  “Don’t know what you mean.” The lie tastes like acid.

  Tristan sets his coffee cup down and turns to look out the back doors at the ocean. It’s a sunny day, and the sounds of the waves breaking slice through the silence between us.

  “He means that you two look at each other like you want to rip each other’s clothes off, and you didn’t used to.” Brandon says as he saunters out of a bedroom. His hair is askew. He’s wearing a black T-shirt and a pair of black jeans that hang off his hips.

  “You spent the night again, too?” Not that I care. I actually like having my buddies around. It helps take the focus away from my parents not being there.

  Brandon stretches and pulls a mug from the cabinet. “You mind?”

  “No. ’Course not. Where are you living these days, anyway?”

  Brandon shrugs. “I’ve got a place with a few roommates over on South. They’re a drag, though.”

  “Should I expect anyone else to come out of that bedroom?” Brandon collects lovers like kids collect frogs. He feeds his needs for a day or two, then releases them back into the world, sexually satiated.

  Brandon’s mouth curves into a smile. “Nah. Too much craziness going on last night. Figured Tristan might need backup.”

  Tristan yawns. “Now that we know there are no more people in the bedrooms down here, care to answer my question? What’s going on with you and Cassidy?”

  I finish my coffee, take one last look toward the stairs, and try to ignore the ache of missing Cassidy. How is it possible to miss someone when you just saw them a few hours ago?

  “Nothing.” I head for the front door. “Not a fucking thing.”

  Thirty minutes later I walk into the Taproom. I don’t know if it’s my imagination or not, but I feel like all the customers are looking at me like they know I was an ass last night. The strange thing is, in my head I don’t think they’re looking at me like that for getting into a fight. I think they’re looking at me like that for making out with Lori.

  What the hell is that about?

  “Hey, it’s Rocky.” Charley elbows me as she walks toward the kitchen. Charley’s worked at the Taproom for the last few summers. She’s got long brown hair and she’s a tiny girl, only about five foot two or so. Today her hair is pulled up in a ponytail.

  “Sorry about last night, Charley. I thought you were working evenings because of your internship.”

  “Lori quit, thanks to you.” She presses her lips together, but I can see the smile behind it.

  “She quit?” Shit. Jesse’s going to be more than pissed.

  “Yup. Left a message last night. Jesse needed the help, so…” She shrugs. “Thank goodness my boss at the Brave Foundation is all about loyalty. He knows I’ve known y’all forever, and well…”

  She doesn’t need to say that once she told him about my parents dying, he was happy to let her help out. I can tell by the way her brown eyes have warmed. I’ve known her boss, Dane Braden, the founder of the Brave Foundation, for years. Dane’s brother Treat is married to my cousin Max. I’d reached out to Dane to help her get the job with his foundation in the spring.

  I sigh loudly, chalking up two more people’s lives I’ve messed up. “Sorry about that, Charley. Tell Dane I said thanks.” Charley’s working on her master’s in marine biology, and the Brave Foundation is a marine-research company that uses education and innovative advocacy programs to protect sharks, and in a broader sense, the world’s oceans. I would hate myself if I messed up that opportunity for her after helping her get it in the first place.

  “Dane’s the best boss ever, and I love his fiancée, Lacy. They understand. Besides, Jesse called one of our summer waitresses. Livi should be here by the afternoon rush to help out.”

  I nod, feeling more like a jerk than before.

  “Delilah’s here.” Charley nods toward the doors to the back room.

  “Good. I’m glad. Thanks.” I head into the back to face my first grovel of the day.

  “There’s the man,” Dutch hollers from behind the stove. “Way to protect Cassidy, man. That guy’s a douche.”

  “Hey, Dutch.” I can’t force myself to say thanks, because I feel like crap knowing Lori quit and Charley had to come in, not to mention the summer help.

  I see Delilah crouched with a clipboard by a box on the other side of the room. She doesn’t look up when I stand in front of her, so I crouch beside her.

  “Hey, Dee.”

  “Hey.” She doesn’t make eye contact. Her brows are pinched together so tightly I know she’s feigning concentration so she doesn’t have to face me.

  “I’m sorry about last night. When I saw that guy forcing himself on Cassidy, I had to do something.”

  “Mm-hm.” She checks something off on her clipboard.

  “And I’m sorry I scared you, Dee. I wasn’t thinking. I just…”

  She lifts her eyes and stares at me. When she speaks, it’s just above a whisper. “I know.”

  I shake my head. “That’s good, because I don’t.”

  She sits on the floor and crosses her legs Indian style. In my head I hear crisscross applesauce, which is freaky, because we haven’t said that since we were kids. And it’s our mom’s voice I hear saying it, just like she did every time we sat cross-legged as kids. I wonder if Delilah hears it, too.

  “I don’t know how to do this.” She looks down at the clipboard.

  “Jesse will teach us what we need to know.” I sit beside her and reach for the clipboard. She pulls it out of my reach.

  “Not this.” Her eyes well with tears, and I realize she’s talking about losing our parents.

  I do what I’ve had to do to survive these last two weeks and bury that hurt as deep as I can shove it. I push it past the bile in my throat, past the burning in my gut, until it’s so deep that I can no longer feel its claws. Only then do I put my arm around Delilah and pull her against me.

  “Me either, Dee. But one thing I know is that Mom and Dad would want us to keep living. They’d want us to figure out our lives and move forward.” I’m not sure of this at all, but it feels like the right thing to say.

  “We never got to say goodbye.”

  “I know.”

  Tears slip down her cheeks, and I fight to keep mine from springing free.

  “I miss them so much. It’s not like we talked all the time, but, Wy, knowing they were there was…” Her tears steal her voice.

  I pull her into a hug and kiss the top of her head. “I know, Dee. We’ll get through this. We’ll figure it out.”

  “What are we gonna do with their stuff? And the house? Do we keep the bar? I want to keep the bar. Dad wanted us to keep the bar.” She’s talking fast, like she can’t stop her words from flowing.

  I tuck her blond hair behind her ear and gaze into her sad green eyes. “Then we’ll keep the bar.”

  She nods. “I’m so scared.” She hugs me so tight that it reminds me of when we were in sixth grade and our dog, Mackadoodle, got hit by a car. She crawled into my bed for a week straight because she had dreams about him trying to cross the street and getting hit time and time again.

  “Are you dreaming about Mom and Dad?” The words come before I can stop them.

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  She wipes her eyes, and I’m not sure if I believe her or not.

  “We’re alone, Wyatt.”

  I push her gently away and search her eyes. I can tell she believes this, that we’re really alone. “Dee, we are not alone. You will never be alone. We have Cass, and Brooke, and Jesse.” I hope I still have Cassidy. “We have Tristan and Brandon, and Charley. We have all of our friends and Aunt Lara and Uncle Tim.”

  She wipes her eyes and nods. “I know.
It just feels different.”

  We both settle back against the wall. “I know, and it should. But try to think of it this way. We’re adults now, Dee. We would have relied on them less, and even if they were alive, we’d both find jobs and work full-time, and we wouldn’t have seen them that much.” None of this makes up for losing our parents. I’m grasping at straws to help her, when the biggest truth of the situation comes to me. “And at least you don’t have to hide who you are anymore.”

  She nods, but I can see she doesn’t want to talk about that, either.

  “How was it with Brooke last night?” I’m hoping Brooke is talking to her about Mom and Dad. They’re so close. I have to think it would help.

  “Brooke is great. We stayed up and talked for hours. It reminded me of when Mom and I used to go see her at the café for breakfast or lunch.” Her eyes glaze over. “I…Do you mind if I stay there for a while? Not because I’m mad at you, but because I need to?”

  “No, Dee. Whatever you need. But just know that I’m here. You’re never going to be alone, and I promise I won’t fight anymore. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “I know.” She lowers her eyes again. “Have you talked to Cass? She texted me last night. She was pretty upset.”

  I shake my head. I have a feeling that talking with Cassidy will be much harder than talking to Delilah.

  “Wyatt, you didn’t hook up with her, did you? Because I’m not sure that would be a good idea.”

  She lifts her eyes to mine, and in that second, any thoughts I might have been entertaining about me and Cassidy go out the door. If we hooked up, it could only end in disaster, and then Delilah would lose Cassidy, too.

  The final nail in the proverbial coffin.

  Chapter Eleven

  ~Cassidy~

  I LIE ON the bed staring up at the ceiling and wondering how many more days I can stay in bed. I got out of bed yesterday and heard Wyatt, Brandon, and Tristan talking downstairs, so I eavesdropped. I didn’t mean to, but…Yeah, I did mean to. When Tristan asked Wyatt what was up with us, his response sent me to my knees. Not a fucking thing. It wasn’t the words he used. It was the inflection in his voice, like he was disgusted by the idea. That means I’ve been totally misreading him, and that tells me one thing. One very big thing.