Crushed (Crystal Brook Billionaires)

by Jessica Blake

  For a while, it had given me a thrill. Once that passed, it had remained good. And then there had been a point where I really was just in it for the money.

  And then… then I didn’t know. With each day that inched by, money mattered less and less. A bigger apartment and more vacations couldn’t buy the things I was looking for. Hell, I wasn’t entirely sure just what I was looking for. But I didn’t think it could be bought at Macy’s or shipped to me via Amazon.

  The year had been the most tumultuous one of my life.

  But whenever I was back in Crystal Brook, I automatically felt at least a little bit better.

  “All right,” I said before I could stop myself. “I’ll do it.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “You mean that?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “I really think I do. Though I don’t even know what I’m getting into. I don’t know shit about running a coffee shop or a bookstore.”

  “I’ll teach you. We’ll get to work together! Oh my God, it’ll be so much fun!” The words rushed out on top of each other. “I’m going to lay down again to celebrate.”

  I laughed. “Watch your champagne.”

  “I’ll drink while laying down.”

  She tried to do just that, but the limo hit a pothole and champagne splashed all over her face.

  I laughed out loud. “You’re ridiculous.”

  She sputtered as she wiped at her face. “Did you read the book?”

  The smile dropped from my lips. “Not all of it. I’m taking my time.”

  “Savoring it.”

  “Something like that,” I murmured.

  At the river, I only read the one page I’d randomly opened. After that, I started at the beginning, taking the book one poem at a time. Each page was painful, uplifting, and mind blowing. It was like getting to know Peter all over again, but in a more intimate way… and yet not. Because though they were his words, surely they were screened fragments of his thoughts, ideas he’d carefully edited before exposing the world to them.

  The limo began slowing down. I peeked out the window. We’d entered Crystal Brook but weren’t close at all to Gwen’s house.

  “What’s going on?” Gwen asked.

  “I don’t know,” I murmured.

  The partition separating us from the driver rolled down. “It sounds like there’s trouble with one of the wheels,” the driver announced. “I’m pulling over to check it out.”

  “We’re stranded!” Gwen shrieked. “My wedding is tomorrow!”

  “We’re in town. Have another drink.”

  The limo pulled over to the side of the road, and the driver climbed out.

  Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, I opened the closest door and started to follow him. “I’ll be right back,” I told Gwen.

  The air was even chillier than it had been when we’d made our last stop and dropped Becca off at her apartment. The slinky dress I’d worn was certainly sexy, but it was also thin. I wrapped my arms around myself and followed the driver to the back of the limo.

  He turned on a flashlight and began inspecting the car. The first wheel the beam fell on was noticeably flat. Bending down, he ran his hand over the top of it.

  “Must have hit a nail or something,” he announced. “Sorry about this.”

  “It happens.”

  He straightened up. “I’ll get the spare.”

  “I can help.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve changed plenty of tires. You and your sister go and enjoy yourselves.”

  “Okay.” I turned and looked around the area for the first time. We were only a few minutes ride from Mom and Dad’s. The limo had pulled over at a corner. Only yards away, the street sign glowed underneath a lamp post. Glendale. Owen’s street.

  My heart lurched. I turned away so I wouldn’t have to look at such a painful reminder.

  Gwen hung out of the open door. “Flat tire?”

  “You heard?”

  “I called Owen. He’s coming to get us.”

  I stared at her. “What? Why?”

  Her lower lip stuck out. “Because I don’t want to be stuck out here. And we’re on his street. Look up.”

  “Yeah, I did,” I snapped. “You really are drunk, aren’t you? You could have called Mom or Dad. Or Jason.”

  She gasped. “I can’t see Jason tonight! He’s in Raleigh. At a strip club or whatever…” She paused. “Do you think he’s at a strip club?”

  I sighed. “Probably. It’s his bachelor party. Why did you call Owen?” I waved my hand. “Never mind. You probably still don’t have a real answer. What time is it anyway?”

  “Uh, I don’t know.”

  “You probably woke him up. The tire is getting changed right now.”

  “Oh,” she giggled. “Sorry.”

  She didn’t sound sorry at all. The only thing she sounded was intoxicated. She drew her head back into the limo.

  I leaned down and peered at her. “Call him back and tell him it’s fine. We don’t need a ride.”

  Gwen picked up the open champagne bottle and took a swig right from it. “I can’t find my phone.”

  Suspicion filled me. “Hang on… why do you have his number anyway?”

  “We’re cool. We’re chill. I hung out with him way before you did, you know. Remember? You left me with him at the pub.”

  “Yeah. All right. You need to stop drinking now.”

  “Done.” She set the bottle down on the floor. It tipped to the side, its contents spilling out. I dove into the limo and righted it.

  “Seriously, Gwen. Lay down and don’t do anything. I’ll call Owen back and tell him—”

  “Tell me what?” a voice interrupted.

  Slowly, I climbed back out of the car. There he stood, his hair a gorgeous unruly mess and his eyes just as open and honest as they always were. His eyes were slightly puffy underneath, and he was dressed in flannel pajama pants and a windbreaker. He’d definitely been sleeping when Gwen called.

  I searched for the necessary breath.

  “That we don’t need a ride… but thank you.” I closed the door, shutting Gwen inside. “The bride-to-be is a little, uh, messed up right now. Apparently, she was nervous about getting mugged.”

  Owen chuckled. “On Glendale?”

  “Okay, she’s more than a little messed up.”

  “All done!” the driver announced, shutting the limo’s trunk. He came over and nodded to Owen before addressing me. “You ready to go?”

  Before I could speak, Owen interrupted. “Let me take you home,” he said, his voice so urgent it caused my pulse to speed up.

  “You don’t have to.”

  The door behind me opened. “Owen!”

  I pursed my lips as Gwen clambered out. “You saved us!”

  Owen chuckled.

  “A knight in shining armor,” she continued.

  “The tire is fixed,” I told my sister. “So we can go now.”

  “No,” she stressed, placing one hand on the side of the car for support. “Let this nice man take his limo back to the limo garage. Owen will take us home.”

  “It’s imposing.”

  “It’s not,” Owen interrupted.

  I sighed. “All right.” I turned to the driver. “Thank you for everything. We’ll just grab our things and go with our friend.”

  “Yay!” Gwen shouted.

  “You stay here,” I told her. “I’ll get your purse.”

  “Don’t forget my penis straw.”

  I groaned and reached into the limo for our clutches. “Do you really need that?”

  “For memory’s sake, yes. I need to suck something through it.”

  Oh dear God. I hope she means a piña colada.

  I snatched the penis straw up from where she’d dropped it on the floor earlier. I thought about making a joke about how sticky it was — from strip club beer — but the time wasn’t right for joking for a variety of reasons.

  “All ri
ght,” I announced, righting myself in the grass. “I’m ready.”

  Gwen swayed on her feet, despite the fact that she was still braced against the limo.

  “Thank you again,” I told the driver.

  He nodded and looked at Gwen. “Congratulations.”

  Gwen mumbled something unintelligible. For the first time, I noticed she held the bottle of champagne in her hand. When had she even snatched it up?

  “Come on,” I told her, taking the bottle in one hand and looping my other arm through hers. “Let’s walk to Owen’s.”

  We went slowly, the three of us creeping down the sidewalk. The alcohol combined with the heels made Gwen slow as a snail. She teetered along, humming to herself.

  I caught Owen looking at me from around her. He smiled at me, more than a trace of humor playing on his lips.

  “Thank you,” I told him. “I know this is kind of crazy.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t doing anything other than sleeping anyway.” He smiled wider.

  I guffawed. “Yeah, heard that’s overrated.”

  “So I take it the bachelorette party was a success.”

  “I saw a butt,” Gwen slurred.

  “We went to a strip club,” I explained.

  “There are butts there,” Gwen continued.

  “I think he gets the idea, Gwen.”

  Owen nodded. “I’ve heard about this thing called a strip club, yes.”

  I grew serious. “You don’t have to drive us home. I can call my dad—”

  “Let me,” Owen interrupted.

  I looked down at the sidewalk, counting the steps my heels took. “Thank you.”

  Gwen spoke again. “Did you get my straw?”

  “Yeah.” I opened her clutch and handed it to her. “Here you go.”

  “It’s all sticky.”

  “It had a big night. It got lucky.” There you go. I hadn’t been able to resist the joke after all. Not even my embarrassment at having Owen dragged into the situation had been enough to stop it.

  Owen laughed out loud.

  “I don’t get it,” Gwen mumbled.

  We crept up on Owen’s house, his car parked halfway up the drive. He fished in his windbreaker pocket for his keys and then unlocked the doors. I helped Gwen into the back seat. She pulled her seat belt on but then immediately closed her eyes.

  I shut the door behind her and turned to Owen, thinking I would get the chance to properly apologize for Gwen calling him. He was already climbing into the driver’s side, though, so I hurried and took my own seat.

  After buckling up, I turned to check on Gwen. She’d slumped to the side, her face pressed against the glass

  Owen laughed softly. “I think she’s asleep.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “She’s got a lot to sleep off.” I pursed my lips. “I’m sorry she called you. I didn’t know she was doing that. I was out looking at the tire with the driver.”

  “You really don’t need to apologize. It’s my pleasure to see…” His gaze briefly ran over the length of my torso before averting itself.

  “See what?”

  He cleared his throat.

  “Tell me,” I commanded.

  “To see you in that dress,” was his gravelly response.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. You look great. I’ve never seen you so dressed up.”

  I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. He still hadn’t started the car, and I found that I didn’t want him to. Despite my earlier irritation over Gwen calling him, now that I was in his presence, I didn’t want to leave.

  Owen cleared his throat. I turned away and looked out the window despite there being nothing to see in the darkness but dark, misshapen bushes.

  “How has it been going?” he asked.

  “Good, good.”

  I winced. I sounded like a robot.

  “So, um, I wanted to tell you something.”

  My faced snapped towards him.

  “Gwen told me that you guys saw me recently… with a girl.”

  I took in a sharp breath that was dangerously close to a gasp. Could Gwen really not keep her freaking mouth shut for one day? And when on earth was she finding time to meet up with Owen and gossip?

  “Okay,” I said since I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “I just wanted you to know that girl was my mom.”

  I absorbed the information. “Okay.”

  “Gwen didn’t tell you that?”

  “No,” I tartly responded, then turned around to take another look at the offending party. There she was, still sleeping away like she’d just got done celebrating her twenty-first birthday.

  “Oh. Maybe she wanted me to tell you myself.”

  I played with the clasp on my clutch. “I guess. Wait. I’m confused. When were you and Gwen talking about this? And why? And why did she think you were going to tell me?”

  “Because… she knows how I feel about you.”

  “Oh.” I stared down at my lap. “This is kind of weird and awkward.”

  “She came to see me at my house. She invited me to her wedding and… she asked me not to give up on you.”

  “What the fuck?” I whispered.

  “You’re mad.”

  “I…” I bit my lip, holding words back until I figured out exactly how I felt. After a few moments, I still couldn’t unscramble the emotional mess going on inside of me.

  “I don’t know,” I finally answered. “God, she’s sneaky.”

  “Yeah, she kind of is.”

  “A taste of my own medicine, I guess,” I muttered.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ve meddled my fair share in her life,” I explained. “It must run in the family.”

  “Ah. Gotcha.”

  I swallowed hard. “I want to ask what your response was when she said that, but I don’t think I have a right to even know.”

  “Oh, Claire.” Owen shook his head. “Don’t say that.”

  “I need to. I can’t give you anything good, Owen.”

  “Relationships aren’t always about mutual giving. Sometimes one person ends up giving more because the other person happens to be in need. And I’m not just talking about romantic relationships here. I’m also talking about friendships.”

  My fingers tangled together in my lap. “I get that. Yeah, it’s true…”

  “Do you want to hear what I said?”

  I let my head drop forward. “I don’t know,” I moaned. “I don’t know how I feel anymore. All I know is that I still think about Peter all the time. He’s always on my mind… but so are you.”

  Owen was silent. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I looked at him. His face was barely visible, but there didn’t seem to be any hints of upset on it.

  “It makes sense,” he said. “Don’t beat yourself up for any of the things you feel. Whatever is going on inside of you is right.” He reached for me, then pulled his hand back. “Maybe accepting those feelings and thoughts is the best thing you can do.”

  The day at the river came back to me. It was the first time I hadn’t fought the grief. I’d allowed in to encompass me. I’d waited for it to suck me under, and when it hadn’t, I’d been amazed.

  On top of that, I’d come out feeling somewhat lighter. The grief was still there, yes, but it was easier to live with.

  “It’s like you read my mind,” I whispered.

  Owen’s hot gaze fell on me, pressing against my skin.

  “I love you, Claire.”

  Elation rose in my chest, bubbling up and spilling forth, popping out of me like the cork from that champagne bottle Gwen had been carting around with her.

  But a second later, all the air got sucked out from the car. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I could only panic.

  Owen kept going. “You don’t have to respond, and I don’t expect you to say it back to me. But I’ve been going months with this secret inside of me. It’s the way I feel about you, the things I seemed to know from the
moment I first set eyes on you.”

  That moment came rushing back to me full force. Owen, standing on the front stoop of my childhood home. His presence had come like a bolt of lightning. He’d reminded me so much of Peter it had been crazy. I’d been lost in that remembrance, tied down by it.

  But Owen hadn’t. He hadn’t been stuck in the past at all. He’d been right there, taking in what was happening. His eyes had gone wide the second he saw me. That much I remembered well.

  This whole thing was painful… and it was probably about to get more so.

  I couldn’t resist myself, though. I had to know, even if the truth would destroy me.

  “What did you know?” I asked through a cracking throat.

  “That you and I…” He sighed and ran his palm over his face. “Forget it. Oh my God. I shouldn’t have said anything. This is about you, Claire. I should have just kept my mouth shut. I should have just tried to be your friend.”

  “You have been trying,” I whispered.

  “Yeah, and I suck at it.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not so good at it myself.”

  “So we have that in common.”

  “Owen,” I said through gritted teeth. “We’ve already started this conversation, so let’s just finish it before my sister throws up in your car,” I added, trying to lighten the mood and lift some of the anxiety crushing me.

  “I’ve said too much.” He shook his head. “I’ve gone too far.”

  I clamped my jaw together. “Yeah, maybe you have. I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t do anything.”

  I pressed my fingers against my eyes, not caring about smearing my makeup. “I’m sorry about this whole thing. I wish I could love you, Owen. I wish I could open myself up. I wish it was all that fucking easy.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  I wryly laughed. “The best part about you is you’re not even pushing me. Despite the fact that you say you love me, you’re not trying to make me change my mind. You’re not saying ‘let’s try’ or ‘I can make you feel better.’ You really are amazing.”

  “It’s not like I don’t want to say those things.”

  I stared sadly at my lap. “Can you take us home now?”

  A long stretch of silence.