by S. E. Hall
Oh, hell no. I’ll be damned if I sit here and say nothing while yet another woman I care about blames herself for others’ fucked up choices. “Sorry, Brynny, but I gotta stop ya right there. All night you’ve made sense, preachin’ on the right spot to place blame, but when it comes to yourself, you wanna take on shit you shouldn’t? No ma’am.”
“Valid point, and thanks for that, Sutton, but I really shouldn’t have gone to see Camden without at least saying something to Ryder first. That wasn’t fair of me. And now, well… I’m not sure what to say to either of them.”
“You got this one too?” Presley whispers, perking up a bit more.
“Yeah,” I chuckle.
“Um, Sutton?” Brynn sends me a pleading look, asking for privacy; and while I don’t want to let go of P…
“He’s staying.” My girl states as fact, snuggling closer into me. God, how I wish such an awful reason wasn’t at the root of it, and guilt strikes hard with my enjoyment, but I soak it up anyway.
“Okay.” Brynn smiles lovingly. “Whatever you want, P.”
Me. She wants me. Another twinge of guilt hits, but I refuse it away and refocus on helping Brynny.
“What’d you mean you don’t know what to say to them ‘now?’”
“Now that I chewed them both up one side and down the other, told them what their dime-show cost my cousin. But…” She diverts her eyes.
“But what?”
“Well, I think maybe I should cut Ryder some slack, since, like I said, it wasn’t right what I did to him. And Camden, turns out he… uh… took care of the guy who scared P, so I’m sort of not mad at him anymore either, yet I’m still furious at each. Which puts me right back at square one, not sure what to say next, if anything at all, to either. So, I think the only thing left to do is forget about them both, in that way, and just be their friend.”
“Alright, enough. Slow your roll there, Martyrpants. I couldn’t disagree with you more if I tried. Sutton, what’s the guy perspective?” Presley tilts her head to look up at me, those big brown eyes compelling me to answer, despite the fact I’d really rather not.
“My… uh… perspective,” I stall as long as possible, “is that it’s totally up to you, Brynny. Might have to do some soul-searching on this one, Lil’ Bit.”
“I know.” Her voice drops along with her shoulders. “I like Ryder, a lot. He’s cute, kind, and treats me wonderfully. Plus, the whole family likes him too, not an easy feat. Then there’s Camden, who I don’t know that well yet, but,” she gulps, “I want to.”
“Then-”
“Sshh,” Presley hushes me. “Listen to them,” she snickers, small and faint, but a genuine snicker no less… a very good sign.
“This is not some third-world country where your father breeds goats to trade for her hand, Jefferson! I’m going in there!” Bellamy’s hiss isn’t near low enough and finds us.
“Woman,” he groans… about the same time said woman knocks on the door.
“Guys, how’s everything going in there? Presley, you feeling any better?” She calls out.
“You know she’s twitching, wanting in here so bad she can’t stand it,” Presley whispers. “How long should we make her wait?”
I sigh in relieved welcome of another huge glimpse of the real Presley.
Still left unanswered, and yes, probably indeed twitching, Bellamy tries again. “Pres, do you need… uh… need me to bring you in… anything? A drink maybe?”
Brynn grabs a pillow to muffle her laugh, then quietly pleads her friend’s case when recovered. “As happy as I am to see you feeling more your ornery self, stop torturing the poor girl, P.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Kinda tacky-timing, my bad. Come on in, Bellamy.”
Had that door just opened any damn faster, it’d of flown clean off the hinges.
“Hi, thanks for letting me in. You okay, P? Sure you don’t need anything?” Bellamy gushes.
“No, I’m fine, but thanks. I was wondering when you were gonna come in. What took you so long?” My girl shines through even more, unable to help herself.
Bellamy’s face scrunches, so aggravated that I have to chuckle. “I didn’t want to intrude, but now that I’m sure you’re feeling better, and, I couldn’t help but overhear the change in conversation, to absolute nonsense.” She pops out a hip, cutting narrowed eyes to her best friend. “Brynn, you’re allowed to explore both relationships, at the same time even, as long as you’re upfront with them. It’s called dating. People, especially guys, do it all the time. You can too! In fact, for some asinine reason, the more explorative a guy tends to be, the more his allure seems to increase. Just ask Jerry Springer! Made a fat paycheck off the mysterious phenomenon!”
“Go easy, killer.” JT presses himself to her back, hands on her shoulders. “You’re getting awful worked up. No sense in having a brain aneurysm when nobody’s arguing with you.”
“Yeah, okay,” she breathes deep. “You’re right. I’ve just, I’ve heard all the double-standard bullshit I can stand for one night. Brynny,” her volume and tone find a rational level, “as long as you’re honest, you’re not doing anything wrong. But, make sure you’re prepared for their reactions. Either one, or both of them, could tell you they’re not okay with it and walk away. And if I’m guessing, I’d say there’s a very good chance that’s exactly what Ryder will say. Or, suppose he does agree. You have to be alright with them doing the same, seeing other girls… so consider that before you go proposing arrangements you don’t wanna be on the receiving end of. But, if you are okay with it, and you are upfront about it all, there’s not a damn thing wrong with casually dating two guys at once. There is, however, a lot wrong with being dishonest, sneaky, or a hypocrite.”
“Nice speech, baby.” JT kisses the side of her head.
“That’s what I was gonna say too, she just beat me to it,” Presley grumps. “And drug it out a bit long for my likin’. I’d have summed it up much faster. Who let her come in here?” She grins at Bellamy, who sticks her tongue out.
“Of course you would’ve,” I quietly tease in her ear. “And you’re not wrong, for Brynny. But just in case it ever comes up, for you, lemme save ya some trouble. I would not be okay with it, and he wouldn’t either, since he’d be dead and all.”
“Do you seriously think you can boss me around? That I’ll think it’s sexy or something?” She whispers back, with a lil’ bite to it.
“Don’t know, but I just did it anyway. So, is it?”
“Is it what?”
“Sexy or something.”
“Kinda.” She hitches a shoulder. “And a lot. But don’t-”
“Read too much into it?”
“Exactly.”
I wait until she turns her attention back to the girls before grinning. I’m getting better and better at this. If I let her think she has the upper-hand, she doesn’t have to actually use it. And I’m more than okay with playing along.
Chapter 17
Presley
The switch in topic to Brynny’s dilemma worked wonders in helping me forget about mine, so I’m settled now, ready to put it behind me and go home. And I take the first long pause in conversation to say as much.
“I want to say how sorry I am about tonight, freaking out and scaring you. And thank you, for being there for me. I’m so damn lucky to have all of you. But… I’d love to head home, really wanna sleep in my own bed.”
“P, it’s late, just sleep here and I’ll take you home the minute you wake up in the morning. Promise. And, not gonna lie, I’d feel whole a lot better havin’ ya under the same roof as me a little longer. I can keep an ear out, in case you need anything,” JT pleads with me.
Before I can argue, my whole body shakes from the vibrations of Sutton’s reaction — a deep baritone dislike of J’s suggestion. “Well shit, you done did it now,” I let go of a much-needed laugh. “Hear that?”
“Hear what?” J looks around, ears perked, joined by a just as confused Brynny and B
ellamy, also searching out the sound.
“The low rumble coming from big boy’s chest here.” I pat Sutton on one very large, impossibly solid pec. “You woke the beast, and made him mad. Scary combo, Cuz.”
“Huh? What the hell are you mad about?” JT asks him.
“Oh, let me take this one, please.” I glance at Sutton, and for a split-second, his grin escapes — a grin of knowing — I need this one; a small slice of sarcastic fun after the night I’ve had. He nods, so I give J a smirk and explain. “Even though I have no intention of letting him do so, because I’m fine, you just insinuated that the hulk-like man with a boa constrictor hold on me can’t keep an ear on me as well as you can, and didn’t take him taking me home as a given. Now his machismo’s dialed up to ten and he’s all growly.”
“No, that’s not what I mean…” J sputters.
“Um, think it is, babe,” Bellamy snickers. “That’s exactly how you would’ve taken it.”
“Woman, how is it you can call me ‘babe’ and side against me in the same damn breath?” He asks, his brows bowed in a frump.
“Easy.” She blows him a kiss. “I love you, even when you’re wrong. Or back-tracking. Side-stepping. Sticking your f-”
“Got it. You’re still gonna wanna work on a real apology, for later though.” He swats her butt, then turns to Sutton. “Didn’t mean anything by it, man. She’s my family, I worry, that’s all.”
“And I respect that,” Sutton grumbles past a clenched jaw, not sounding much like respect, “but Presley wants to sleep in her own bed, so that’s where she’s gonna sleep. I’ll keep an ear, and eye on her just fine, I assure you.”
“Oh, I heard it that time!” Bellamy chirps. “Sutton, you might need to see a doctor about that rumbly thing, I don’t think that’s normal. Could be a blockage in your lung or something.” She teases him, biting the smile fighting to emerge. “Does it happen often, or only around certain people?”
Bless Bellamy’s semi bi-polar heart, she is constantly impressing me with her ability to shift from panic, to passionate rants, and back to chipper little smartass in no time at all.
“Got jokes now, huh? Your man’s a bad influence. Come on, Sugar, I’ll take you home.” Sutton stands up and sets me on my feet, but keeps a possessive hand on the small of my back… even as Bellamy and Brynny each give me a hug and JT walks us to the door.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” J asks one last time.
“I’m good, I promise. Thank you again for everything. I… I love you, JT.”
“I love you too, P.” He hugs me.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Sutton won’t mind waiting to make sure I get inside safe, flip on a light or two. I’ll be fine.”
“Of course he won’t. Call me if you need anything. I mean it, anything.”
“Will do.” I salute him.
Sutton lets out a mocking snort of laughter as JT closes the door, so I stop walking and look up at him. “What was that noise about?”
“You,” he snorts again, finding my hand to lace his fingers through mine and get us moving. “My Hot Shot, always has to keep that guard up, be in charge, make sure I hear your terms, loud and clear. Acting like you weren’t talking directly to me, when we both know that’s exactly what you were doing.”
“I do have to stay guarded and in charge. It’s a big, bad world out there, where big, bad shit happens. I mean, hello, tonight proves that. You let your guard down for one second and someone will take advantage of it. And, I was trying to be polite, with my indirect approach, eliminate the need for an awkward conversation when we get to my place.”
“I know, babe. Waste of breath, but I know. And I don’t disagree with you about keeping a guard up, to an extent.” He opens the passenger door of his truck and grabs my hips, hoisting me up and in before I can even attempt to do so myself. “Seatbelt,” he clips, then shuts the door and hurries around to his side.
“To what extent do you not agree?” I ask once he’s inside.
“A pretty big one. Yes, I think it’s important to be careful, aware of your surroundings, especially in crowds, bars, places like that. And I’d never argue it’s not a terrible, dangerous, idea for people, arguably more so women, to walk a street alone, stop at stores, gas stations, rest stops or whatever at night. But you,” he sighs, watching the road instead of me — in which case he’d see my curious anticipation of what he’s going to say next — “you let that doomsday, paranoid, pessimistic… I’m not exactly sure what to call it, outlook of yours extend into way too many areas of your life. A lot of which, well, maybe you shouldn’t. And don’t you go gettin’ mad, that’s just my opinion. Doesn’t mean I’m right.” He pauses. “Doesn’t mean I’m wrong either, though.”
“Not mad, and haven’t decided on the other yet. I’m leaning toward wrong, but I need more information to officially decide. So, do tell, about these areas I’m mistakenly corrupting.”
“Nah, we can revisit it some other time. I hear it in your voice, Sugar, wrath’s a blowin’ in. I’m not gonna fight with you, not tonight. Forget I said anything.” He turns on the radio, pressing play on a CD, and I lean forward to turn it right the hell back off... but the song that starts playing, one I’ve never heard, stops me, instantly seizing my absolute attention.
“What is this?” I ask in hushed awe.
“Good, right?”
“Very.”
He leaves my question unanswered, and anything more unsaid, a silent understanding between us that this song is not to be talked through. I listen to it with my entire being; eyes closed, my own fears confessed in every haunting lyric; the beautifully solemn voice an echo of my guilt, shame… debt. This song was written for me. As it ends, I gradually lift my lids and glance over at Sutton — now parked in front of my apartment, already watching me, a tender grin of a thousand thoughts on his gorgeous mouth.
“Did you plan that? To play now? Those words?” I croak more than ask.
He slowly shakes his head side-to-side, grin growing into a full smile as he blindly reaches to turn the music off. “Couldn’t have planned it that perfectly if I had tried. It’s called “Infinity Street” by Richard Walters, songwriter from the UK. All his stuff’s good, but that one’s always been my favorite. Now I know why.”
“Why?” I whisper, my heart pounding out a jagged beat of surprising anticipation… a guess as to what he’s about to say... and I want to hear it, in spite of every effort I’ve made, for so long, to try and convince myself otherwise.
He shifts toward me and reaches for my hand, lifts it to his mouth, brushing his lips across my knuckles, then lowers it to rest on his thigh, still being held. “You know why, you just said it yourself. Because of those words. ‘To close up this long day? And all its mistakes?’ Fitting, I’d say. But most poignant? Important? I’ll always leave the light on for you, Presley Alexandra Beckett. Always. Constantly.”
No surprise, he’s managed, yet again, to knock me off my game… and on my ass. His voice feral but oh so seductive; raw, unashamed reverence in every word — even better than I expected. Sutton Ellis is a thinker, a feeler, the perfect combination of large, sturdy, barbaric manliness with a secret compartment filled with intelligent, romantic tenderness that he reveals with precise timing. He’s… unbelievable. Something of wildest dreams, mythical tales, unthinkable wishes. And… far too amazing to be wasted on me. Luckily, I’ve long since mastered my “wiring,” so any misfire from my heart zaps the warning bells in my brain… now screaming for me to dodge. Run. Fast.
“Hmmm, pretty talk.” I use my free hand to scratch my temple in sarcastic dramatization. “I guess I won’t straight up call you a liar since I can’t remember if your porch light was on the night-” It was, but he doesn’t need to know that I remember. And, he interrupts me anyway.
“Presley, you’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met. I’m positive you’re fluent in metaphorical. And being so, you know damn good and well, yes, it was. The light was on, never turne
d it off. But I had to try and move on. I was almost convinced I actually stood a chance, too… until the minute I saw you again.” He drags in a bottomless breath, his forehead crinkling in concentration as he finds his next words and slowly exhales. “I tried to do the right thing, be a good person, a good man. But the truth is, even if Hailey hadn’t have tipped her rocker, I wouldn’t have been able to stay with her for very much longer. The guilt of constantly comparing her to you, which she’d have never measured up to, would’ve eventually eaten away at me and I’d have let her down gently. I know it. Know myself. And how I feel about you.”
I roll my eyes and release a noise that falls somewhere between a facetious laugh and averting huff. “Oh, please. Sutton-”
“Don’t,” he cuts me off, pressing a finger to my lips. “Not this time. Right here, now, this is one of the areas you asked about earlier. There’s nothing to be afraid of, so put away that wall of yours and let other things in. Let me in, even if it’s just an inch. Doesn’t it feel good, at least a little bit, to accept affection, to hear that someone thinks the world of you?”
I swat his hand away from my mouth to answer. “Maybe.” I shrug, diverting my eyes to the windshield, taking in the full, golden moon. “Suppose I believe you, that you really feel that strongly about me. What I want to know then, is why? There’s no way I’m the only ‘not batshit crazy’ girl you’ve met, or the only good sex you’ve ever had. And surely to God you’ve met friendlier chicks.”
“Debatable, wrong word, and yes,” he laughs. “The sex is so much better than good, Hot Shot, and what fool told ya you weren’t crazy?”
“Sutton, I’m being serious. Is that it, the sex? ‘Cause I’m not opposed to continuing that, as long as you don’t read-”
Again with the finger over my mouth... and a coy smirk on his. “The most memorable quotes in history only had to be said once, all it takes to convey undeniable power. Things said over and over are usually done so in an effort to convince. Is it working for you? Be the only point, ‘cause I’m damn sure not falling for it. I’m reading into it, Presley. Every single word you’re not saying… I’m. Reading. ‘Em.”