With A Twist

by Staci Hart

  “Probably because he’s in love with you.”

  I shot her a look. “How could I possibly be prepared for him to say that to me after he punched my date in the face? God, I’m so fucking mad at him for this. That was so inappropriate and so upsetting on so many levels.” Nausea rolled through me. “We can’t go backwards from this. I can’t pretend like he didn’t say what he said. And now, everything will change.” The tears started up fresh. “I don’t want it to change. I just want to go back to yesterday when things were normal and fine and not completely fucked up.”

  She threaded her fingers through mine and squeezed. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. Okay?”

  I stared out the window through a curtain of tears, not understanding how everything had gone so wrong. Not believing myself when I agreed with Rose.

  “Okay.”

  WRUNG OUT

  West

  I ROLLED OVER IN BED the next morning feeling like I’d been hit by a truck, body aching from sleeping like I was dead and head pounding from the myriad of bad decisions I’d made the night before. I cracked open my eyes and flinched against the sun, waiting a second before I tried again, blinking against the light. The first thing I did when I finally got them open was drain the glass of water next to my bed. And once I’d set the empty glass down, I lay back, taking a minute after the exertion to stare up at the ceiling.

  I’d fucked up. That was all there was to it.

  I held up my hand and inspected my swollen, raw knuckles. I felt like I’d done some universal justice, restored balance with something so simple as a broken nose. At least I had that going for me.

  Lily was another thing all together. My guts twisted with regret at the thought of her. Or from the whiskey. Maybe both.

  I replayed it all again, pictured her face when Blane’s words hit her, the look in her eyes when I told her I loved her. I’d just blurted it out like she knew. Maybe part of me thought she did. I knew I felt stupid for not seeing it sooner.

  The entire thing was a disaster, and all of it was my doing.

  I threw off the covers and got out of bed, pressing the heel of my palm to my eye socket. I vaguely remembered getting shawarma, which was probably the one thing that saved me from expelling the contents of my stomach on my way to the coffee machine.

  The argument with Lily rolled through my brain in a loop to the sputtering of the coffee pot. I owed her an apology. I owed her an explanation. But more than that — I just wanted to know that she was all right.

  I can’t say that a large part of me didn’t want to know how she felt about me, about what I’d said after she’d had time to think about it. I needed to know one way or another to put me out of my misery. Even if she shot me down. Even if she didn’t want me. I had to know.

  Patrick walked out of his room, shirtless and in sleep pants, squinting against the sun, ruffling his hair. “Hey.” His voice was thick.

  “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

  He waved a hand. “Doesn’t take much.”

  I jerked my chin at him. “Feelin’ all right?”

  “Decent. You?”

  “Depends.” I poured us each a cup of coffee, and we made our way into the living room. I dropped into an armchair and propped my feet on the coffee table, and Patrick stretched out longways on the couch.

  He shook his head. “Last night was fucked up, man.”

  “I don’t remember much after Lily left. Did it get worse?”

  “Past you getting tanked, no.”

  I sighed. “I’m sorry, man. I knew it was going to be rough, but I never imagined it would be that rough.”

  “I can’t even believe Blane. Why would he look for ass when he had Lily right there?”

  I bristled at the thought of him and Lily’s ass doing anything together. “I don’t know. I honestly can’t imagine what would have possessed him to do it.”

  “Not that he seems particularly loyal. Maybe he’s just a pussyhound. Maybe Lily isn’t the only one.” He took a sip of his coffee.

  “It would make sense, but that almost makes me feel worse. Did you talk to Rose? Is Lily okay?”

  “I texted her last night when you weren’t looking, which wasn’t easy. I had to take your phone so you wouldn’t call her.”

  I ran a hand across my forehead. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Rose said she was okay. Angry and hurt, but okay.”

  I stared at a spot on the coffee table. “I’ve got to talk to her today.”

  Patrick shook his head, voice full of warning. “Bad idea, West.”

  But I shook my head right back. “I listened to y’all when you said to wait to tell her, and look how that turned out. I’m through taking advice. I’m just gonna do what I think is right.”

  Patrick snickered. “Like punch Blane in the face?”

  That memory was a small comfort. “Man, it felt so good. So good.” But I sighed. “Still a bad move.”

  “I would have done the same thing, if it had been me. No way I would have let that fuck get away with what he did.”

  “Did you tell Rose why I hit him?”

  “No. I didn’t know what you wanted to do, so I kept it to myself.”

  “Lily needs to know I didn’t pick a fight with him for no reason, and I think it might help her move on to know he’s not who she thought he was. I don’t want her to get hurt.”

  “Might be too late for that.”

  I rubbed my beard. “Maybe. But could I save her from more pain?”

  “I still think you need to give her time to process what happened. What if you tell Rose what happened and let her tell Lily?”

  I shook my head. “It needs to come from me. I’m the one who saw it. I’m the one who broke his nose.”

  Patrick laughed again. “Man, I wish I’d seen that.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “It was so good, though I think he was more worried about his pretty face than me telling Lily.” My smile slipped away. Out of nowhere, I was pissed again, anger charging through me, uninvited. “Fuck that guy. Fuck him for hurting her. Fuck him for using her, that son of a bitch.”

  I seethed for a minute while Patrick sipped his coffee and let me stew. He eventually broke the silence.

  “When are you going over there?”

  “I don’t know. She’ll be gone in a few hours until late tonight, and I don’t want her to go all day without at least apologizing. I’m sure she’s up already. So, soon, I think. Otherwise, I’ll have to wait until who knows when.”

  “You two are so much alike, even down to your sleep habits. I can’t believe you never realized it before.”

  “She was off the table, Patrick — always. From the minute we met, she told me she wasn’t interested in dating anyone but her career. And I was dating Shannon at the time. We started off with the unspoken agreement that we would only ever be friends. So when we would have these … moments, you know? Like I would see her doing something mundane, or she’d say something that made me laugh and feel and … I don’t know. Want her. But I’d push the idea away like I was crazy because we were never supposed to be anything but friends.”

  “I get that,” he said simply.

  “And now I know there’s more to it, and you can’t un-know something like that. I want her, Patrick. I need her. Even if I can’t have her the way I want, I’ll take what I can get because I can’t live my life without her in it.”

  Patrick was stoic and humble. “You should tell her just like that.”

  I looked away. “I only hope I have the chance to tell her anything at all.”

  Lily

  My bed was a cocoon of fluffy bedding, illuminated by the morning sun shining through my window. Everything was bright and fresh, cheery and peaceful.

  Clearly, the universe was mocking me.

  I felt like a wad of gum on somebody’s shoe. Smashed. Sticky. Unwanted. Stretched out, chewed up, and discarded.

  It was late when we got home, but the first thing Rose did was pou
r us each a whiskey, which I accepted. I accepted the second one too. And the third. It was the only way I’d be able to sleep, I knew, and as I stretched in bed, I was grateful to realize I wasn’t hungover. My stomach was a little tender, but the rest of me was in working order.

  I only wish the whiskey could have erased everything that had happened. In a few hours, I’d have to go to the theater and see Blane — the second biggest offender on my list.

  I didn’t even want to think about West.

  I’d be busy enough at work today that I could avoid him, and I was banking on him being too hungover this morning to catch me before I left. I didn’t have any idea what to say to him. I was no closer to understanding how I felt about any of it than I’d been the night before.

  The sting from Blane’s words were still fresh, and the humiliation of being spoken to that way in front of my friends was the salt in the wound. I knew this was it, the last chance, and part of me figured it might be over after that, even though I was hoping it would work out. But I never, ever expected all that to go down. I never thought Blane could hurt me that badly.

  I was glad West got a piece of him, even if it was horribly overbearing.

  He was a whole other issue. I stared up at my ceiling, trying to sort it out. He told me he loved me. Shock ripped through my chest again at the thought. I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel, but everything made a lot more sense when I framed it up. It was no wonder West was such a dick to Blane all night.

  But when it came to me figuring out how I felt, I was lost. I thought about almost kissing him, thought about my jealously over Christine. And then, there was that dream. My body responded to the memory, and I huffed, hating myself. I didn’t know what any of it meant. I was still too pissed to even consider not being pissed.

  So for now, I didn’t want to see anyone.

  I heard the front door open, and my face twisted up. There was only one person who it could be.

  I flipped off my covers. I’m going to lose my fucking shit. How dare West use his key to come into my apartment without even knocking after everything last night, that fucking jerkass, I ranted in my head as I stormed out of my bedroom.

  Maggie froze in the middle of the living room, still in her dress from last night, shoes dangling from her fingers and hair a mess.

  “Maggie?” I asked like an idiot. “Wait, did you just get home?”

  She blushed, brows raising as she put down her shoes and bag. “Please don’t tell West.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me telling West anything, maybe ever again.” She frowned, and I changed the subject. “So who’s the guy?”

  She blinked at me, looking put on the spot.

  “Or girl?”

  Her blush deepened. “Guy, and nobody.”

  “Ooooh, a one night stand? Scandalous. Details.” Anything to save me from my own mess. I made my way into the kitchen to brew coffee, and Maggie sat down at the table with bright eyes.

  She nudged her wild hair, trying to tame it without seeming to know where to start. “Well, he’s super hot, funny, smart. But he’s kind of a whore.”

  “I think they prefer the term experienced.”

  She giggled. “Well, he’s definitely experienced. I mean, I didn’t know a man’s mouth could do some of the things his did.”

  “Like in the downtown, central neighborhood?”

  “Mmhmm,” she hummed.

  “So Jimmy never …”

  She rolled her eyes. “Nope. I had no idea what I was missing. Before Jimmy, all the guys I dated were too young to know how to really do that. I can only imagine that it takes years of practice, which is why I probably won’t see him again.”

  I chuckled. “Aww. What about just keeping him around to rock your vagina out? I don’t know if you should squander such a gift.”

  Maggie laughed and shook her head. “If my brother knew you were trying to talk me into a bootie call, he’d flip.”

  “Well, luckily your brother doesn’t get to decide what I think of things.” I shifted in my seat. “So you’re really not going to see him again?”

  “Maybe. He wants to, but I don’t know. I don’t want to get involved. I mean, I just moved here, and after everything that happened with Jimmy … I just kind of want to be unattached for a while, you know?”

  “Trust me, I know. Well, good for you, Mags. At least somebody got laid last night.”

  “I’m so sorry about Blane, Lily.”

  “Don’t be. Better to find out now, right?”

  She gave me a comforting smile. “Right.”

  Someone knocked on the door, and Maggie and I exchanged confused looks. My brow quirked as I got up and peered through the peephole to find West leaning against the doorframe. I spun around, mostly angry but with a traitorous hint of excitement.

  I punted that thought straight to hell.

  I mouthed West at Maggie, pointing to our room, and she hauled ass out of there fast enough that I think she left some bobby pins behind. I turned back for the door with my jaw square and my heart in my throat.

  When I pulled it open, it sucked the scent of him straight into me in a whoosh. “What?” I demanded.

  His voice was soft. “Can I come in?”

  I clenched my teeth hard and released. “Fine.” I moved out of the way, and he walked in, hands in his pockets. God, he looked good. He really did. It pissed me off even more. He had no right to be that hot in jeans and a T-shirt and his hair in that stupid bun. Fucker.

  He stopped in the middle of the room with a hangdog look on his face. “I owe you an apology, Lil. Last night was a mistake.”

  I fumed. “You’re damn straight it was, West.”

  His brow dropped, blue eyes sparking like he knew I was justified, but that didn’t stop him from being upset about it. “I stepped over more than one line. But last night, I didn’t just go after Blane.”

  I folded my arms across my chest and raised a brow.

  He put a hand up in surrender, nodding. “Okay, I kind of went after him, but I didn’t pick a fight with him for no reason.”

  I eyed him. “Go on.”

  His face somehow looked even more serious, and he leaned against the back of the couch. “I followed him when he went downstairs, and when I found him, he was with somebody.”

  That simple sentence sent me reeling as anger and shame washed over me. “Somebody who?”

  He shook his head, quiet for a moment as he grappled with how to say what he came to say. “A girl. And when he took her to the bathrooms, I couldn’t let it go. I … well, I had to see for myself. He had her … he was—”

  I held up a hand with last night’s dinner in my throat. “He was fucking her? Just to be clear here.”

  He nodded solemnly.

  “And that’s when you hit him?”

  “Yes.” The word was a simple confession.

  I couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Questions and visions and a million thoughts flew around my brain, crashing together and smashing like glass.

  “I shouldn’t have hit him, but I can’t say I’m sorry. Not for that. But for everything else, I am.”

  I added disappointment to my pile of emotions. He was sorry he told me he loved me, and I couldn’t understand why that made me feel so lost. “Everything?”

  Every curve of his face told me how much he hurt. “I shouldn’t have told you like I did, but it’s the truth. I won’t apologize for loving you.”

  My food charged up my esophagus, and I ran for it, straight into the bathroom, barely making it in time. I hung over the toilet, holding my hair back, retching until it was over. I sucked in a breath through my nose, and the smell of whiskey roundhoused me in the stomach, sending me on another round.

  I didn’t realize he’d followed me until his hand shifted on my back as I hung onto the porcelain with my eyes closed and nose running. He handed me a glass of water that I accepted gratefully, using it to rinse out my mouth.

  Physically I was as good as n
ew. My emotions were another story completely.

  “I’m sorry,” I croaked into the toilet.

  His voice was soft and deep. “Don’t be sorry.”

  I unfolded myself, and he moved out of the way, helping me up as we stood. His eyes told me so much as he looked down at me, and I wished I had the answers to the questions that lay behind them. But I didn’t. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, burned my nose. “I don’t know what you want me to say, West. I don’t know what to say.”

  He flinched, brow low. “I’m sorry, Lily. I didn’t say it to hurt you. I just couldn’t go on another second without you knowing how I felt. I’d been watching you all night with him, wanting nothing more than to pop him in the face and kiss you until you couldn’t remember your name. And when I followed him, when I saw what he did, I couldn’t stop myself. He hurt you, and I couldn’t stand by and watch. You asked me why I did it, so I told you the truth. I did because I love you.”

  My heart stopped when he said it again, like it was the simplest, most natural thing in the world.

  “Not just like that. You’re the most important person in my life. That’ll never change, whether you feel the same way or not.”

  “But I can’t pretend that I don’t know how you feel about me.” I tried to take a breath. “I can’t … I don’t …” I lost the tenuous hold on my tears, and they rolled down my cheeks, fat and hot.

  West shook his head, face full of pain. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” He pulled me into his chest, and I lost any pretense of composure that I had with his arms around me and his cheek pressed against my hair. I cried for my friendship that would never be what it was and for my heart that was scrambled up and bruised. I cried for my humiliation and cried for my lost dreams. I cried until I was dry, standing there in my bathroom that smelled like puke and whiskey in my best friend’s arms.

  My best friend who loved me.

  I couldn’t make sense of any of it.

  “Just give me some time,” I whispered, eyes closed, overwhelmed as I wondered why being in his arms made me feel like everything would be all right.