Holiday Loves
Page 14
Lifting the clear plastic container, he offered it to me with a grunt.
“Knight…” My breath caught when I saw what was inside. A single white rose framed with black tulle and silver ribbon. A colorless corsage from my colorless boy.
“Figured your punk ass would be wearing black.” He shrugged. “I like the blue though.”
I blushed, using the corsage as an excuse not to look at him. I slipped it onto my bony wrist using the elastic band attached to the back. Lifting it to my nose, I inhaled the sweet fragrance and smiled. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
I turned away, seeking a trash can for the plastic container, and noticed a familiar pompadoured figure standing at the top of the central staircase.
Fuck.
Harley had his back to us and appeared to be talking to a group of goth kids, but the sighting definitely got my ass in gear. I backed up against the wall beside the staircase, which just so happened to be the end of the line for pictures, and waved Knight over.
“Hey!” I chirped as he approached with suspicion in his icy eyes. “We, ah…should get our picture taken, since we match and all.”
Standing that close to Knight without being able to rip his clothes off was physically uncomfortable. As much as I hated him, as many times as he’d hurt me, as desperately as my head and heart tried to convince me to stay away, my body was simply too weak to resist the pull. We didn’t just have chemistry, we had magnetism. A negative charge and a positive charge so strong that the only thing to ever successfully keep us apart was an ocean. And now here he was, on the wrong side of the sea, wearing that damn uniform and making me forget that the tears I’d cried over him could fill an ocean of their own.
When the bulb flashed and our awkward smiles fell, I glanced back at the top of the stairs. The space was empty.
“I’m…ah…I’m gonna run to the restroom real quick. Be right back!” I blurted, darting away before Knight could protest or try to follow me. I sprinted to a hallway on the far-right side of the lobby that not only had restrooms, but an elevator. Ducking inside, I hit the door close button and exhaled in relief when it shut without Knight’s arm shooting out to block it.
I got off on the second floor and followed the sound of thumping bass into the Egyptian Ballroom.
Inside the house lights were off, sconces illuminated the hieroglyphs carved into the massive columns lining each wall, and horny teenagers dry humped each other on the scarab-themed carpet. I knew that unlike Harley, Knight would give me about thirty seconds before he came looking for me, so I tore through the room, scanning the crowd for a baby-faced blond. Instead, I found Juliet and Goth Girl pouting with their arms folded across their chests over by the DJ booth.
“Hey!” I panted. “Where are the guys? Where’s Harley? He’s not looking for me, is he?”
“Fuck the guys,” Goth Girl slurred, taking a drink from a beverage I knew with one-hundred percent certainty was spiked.
Juliet leveled me with an annoyed, albeit glassy-eyed gaze. “What she said.”
“What happened?” I yelled as Outkast rapped about hushing that fuss and moving to the back of the bus.
“JayShawn is off dancing with some asshole in a pink tux.” Goth Girl hissed.
“And Steven left with some bitch who said she could score him an eight ball,” Juliet added.
“Wait. He just…left?” I cried. “What the fuck? He just left you at prom?!” Glancing back and forth between my scorned friends, I asked, “What about Harley?”
Juliet shrugged and flicked her chin in the direction of a shadowy corner beside the DJ booth. “He’s over there, talking to the Phish-heads.”
Phish-head was what we called the stoner hippie kids at our school. The ones who played hacky sack and wore moccasins and said dude every other word. I looked in the direction of Juliet’s gaze and saw them, huddled in a circle, a familiar mop of blond hair sticking up out of the middle.
I should have turned around. I should have been satisfied that he wasn’t looking for me, and I should have hightailed it back to Knight. But something about that hippie cluster didn’t sit right with me. Harley was a friendly guy, but not that friendly.
Tip-toeing over to the congregation, I peeked in between two scraggly-haired losers in tuxedos just in time to see Harley taking twenty-dollar bills from five anxious palms, replacing each one with a little white pill.
“Oh my God,” I groaned.
All of their faces snapped up in shock, then the group scattered, leaving me alone with my douchebag ex.
“This is why you fucking came tonight, isn’t it?” I placed my hands on my narrow hips and glared at him as he discretely pocketed a fistful of cash. “I thought it was weird that you didn’t call me for a week and then showed up in a borrowed suit acting like we were BFFs, but it makes perfect sense now.” I swept an arm out in front of me, gesturing to where the congregation of hippies had been. “You just used me to get in here so you could find some new customers.”
“Lady…” Harley smiled, his voice dripping with condescension.
“Punk.”
Harley’s panty-melting grin morphed into the hardened glare of an outlaw as his eyes shot contraband bullets over my shoulder.
I spun around and held my hands up, as if that could possibly shield Harley from the wrath of Ronald McKnight. Knight’s hand shot past me and grabbed Harley by the tie. Yanking him forward, I found myself crushed in a Knight-Harley sandwich as the two men bared their teeth at each other over my shoulder.
Couples slow-danced around us as Steven Tyler sang about not wanting to miss a thing.
“Guys,” I warned. “Do not fucking fight here. Do you hear me? Knight, you could go to military jail, and Harley…” I swiveled my head backward to make eye contact with him. “You’ve got a pocket full of ecstasy, dumbass.”
Knight’s eyes and nostrils flared as he began taking slow steps backward toward the door, dragging our two bodies with him. “Fine,” he hissed in my ear through his clenched teeth. “We won’t fight here.”
Harley began pushing against my back, urging us to walk faster. “Let’s go, motherfucker,” He turned his head and spat on the dancefloor. “Anywhere you want.”
I should have done more to stop them, but the sensation of Knight’s chest against my chest and Harley’s crotch against my ass caused my hormones to mutiny and take over the whole damn ship. I wasn’t thinking about how to prevent bloodshed. I was too focused on the way their breath felt against my skin and their strong hands felt gripping my hips and arms.
We shuffled, locked in a three-person stalemate, out of the Egyptian Ballroom and into the hallway overlooking the two-story lobby below. As soon as we were out of sight, Knight wrapped his free hand around Harley’s neck and body-slammed him into the wall, not giving two shits that my body was in between their bodies.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Knight seethed.
Harley’s hands released me and wrapped around Knight’s neck in return.
Unable to speak, both men choked and glared at each other as I thrashed in between, squealing and grunting, cursing and shoving, kneeing and elbowing, until I heard a woman scream at the end of the hall. All three of us turned our heads at once to see my Spanish teacher, Mrs. Santos, clutching her chest in horror before running off to get help.
“She’s gonna call the fucking cops!” I screamed. “Stop it!”
I saw Harley’s fingers relax and fall away from Knight’s thick, corded neck just before I felt his body slide down the wall behind me and slump to the floor.
“Harley!” I turned and knelt beside his unconscious body, palming his cheek and feeling for a pulse. He was breathing, thank God, but he had deep, purple, finger-shaped welts on his neck and his beautiful baby face was flushed and red.
“Harley…” I slapped his cheek lightly with my hand. “Harley, wake up.”
I turned to scream at Knight, but the insults and accusations turned to ash in my mouth the moment I
realized that no one was there.
Knight had vanished like a ghost.
Just then, I heard Coach Johnson’s voice boom through the lobby below. “Yes, officer. Right up the stairs there.”
Shit!
“Harley,” I whispered, more frantically. “Harley, the cops are here! Wake up!”
His eyes fluttered, but he made no effort to move.
Glancing back and forth between my unconscious ex and the staircase where the heavy footfalls of the law were approaching, I suddenly knew what I had to do.
And I had to do it fast.
* * *
Six people arrived at the Fox Theater in that white stretch Lincoln, but only three of us made it back out.
Goth Girl, Juliet, and I sat side by side on the ride home, guzzling champagne and giggling over our prom pictures, which Juliet had insisted that we pick up before sprinting out the front door.
“Steven is so fucking ugly,” Goth Girl hiccupped, staring at the eight by ten photo in her hand. “What the hell was I thinking? He looks like—"
“Lord Licorice from Candy Land?” I interrupted, causing Juliet to spit a mouthful of Korbel onto the off-white carpet.
“Oh my God, you’re right!” Goth Girl cackled.
“Not that I’m one to talk.” I held up both of my photos, fanned out in one hand. The image of Harley hugging my waist from behind partially obscured the image of Knight, embracing me in his dress blues. “At least your date wasn’t just using you to sell drugs.” I rolled my eyes and took another sip of champagne.
“So, what’s gonna happen to him?” Goth Girl asked. “I know he’s a dick, but I still feel kinda bad about leaving him there to get arrested.”
“Oh, he won’t get arrested,” I smirked, handing Juliet my champagne flute so that I could unclasp my silver clutch bag. Reaching in, I pulled out a fat wad of twenties, Harley’s flask, and a baggie full of pills stamped with little lightning bolts. “They don’t have any evidence.”
Juliet and Goth Girl squealed in delight as our chariot delivered us home.
Prom might not have turned out to be the magical night I’d envisioned, but I still managed to leave with two people I loved.
And I made one hell of a profit, too.
* * *
BB Easton lives in the suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia, with her long-suffering husband, Ken, and two adorable children. She recently quit her job as a school psychologist to write stories about her punk rock past and deviant sexual history full-time. Ken is suuuper excited about it.
If that sounds like the kind of person you want to go around being friends with, then by all means, feel free to drop her a line. Just don’t be surprised if you get a reply at four a.m. with an inexplicable Shia LaBeouf meme or a text that was clearly meant for someone else. BB is what doctors call chronically sleep-deprived, or as Ken pronounces it, “depraved.”
You can find her:
On email: authorbbeaston@gmail.com
On her website: www.authorbbeaston.com
On Facebook: www.facebook.com/bbeaston
On Instagram: www.instagram.com/author.bb.easton
On Twitter: www.twitter.com/bb_easton
On Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/artbyeaston
On Goodreads: https://goo.gl/4hiwiR
On Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/user/bbeaston
Selling signed books and original art on Etsy: www.etsy.com/shop/artbyeaston
Giving stuff away in her #TeamBB Facebook group: www.facebook.com/groups/BBEaston
And giving away a free ebook from one of her author friends each month in her newsletter: http://eepurl.com/c4OCOH
* * *
44 Chapters About 4 Men: A Memoir
* * *
The 44 Chapters Spin-Off Series
SKIN (Knight, Book 1)
SPEED (Harley, Book 2)
STAR (Hans, Book 3)
SUIT (Ken, Book 4)
For updates on new releases, sales, and giveaways, sign up here.
A Splash of Vanilla
An Extended Epilogue
Bethany Lopez
“O’Donnelly,” I said into the phone, holding it against my shoulder as I tried to wrangle my son into the shopping cart.
“Mr. O’Donnelly, this is Jessica from Quilts and Things, I wanted to let you know that your blanket is ready.”
“Terrific,” I rumbled as I fastened Mickie’s seatbelt. “I’ll be by to pick it up this afternoon.”
“Yes, sir, see you then, and Merry Christmas.”
“Same,” I said, not one to spread holiday cheer like so many seemed determined to do.
Don’t get me wrong, I had plenty to be thankful for… My beautiful wife had given me a sweet, if rambunctious, son, and we had another baby on the way. Our marriage was better than ever, and both of our businesses were booming.
Life was good in the O’Donnelly house.
“Hurry up, slow poke, I don’t want to be late for dinner,” my Ma yelled as she zoomed past us on one of those motorized scooters.
“Ma, slow down,” I called after her, but she just waved me off and turned the corner, intent on getting her Little Debbie’s and Hot Funyons.
Ma was getting up in years, and had a hard time walking and being on her feet. While she’d originally moved in to our basement, which I’d converted into an apartment for her, she’d since moved upstairs with us. It was easier on her, and she was able to have instant access to Mickie, and join us for dinner.
She’d put up a fight, insisting she should just go back to her assisted living facility, but then Dru had announced she was pregnant again, and Ma stopped all talk of leaving.
I was happy when she did. I liked having all of my family together under one roof.
Since she’d moved upstairs, I’d transformed the basement into a playroom for Mickie and closed half of it off to make a movie room for me and Dru. My girl loved to snuggle on the couch and watch TV, so I’d ordered her a special quilt with pictures of everyone on it. Me, Ma, and Mickie, of course, but also her sisters Millie and Tasha, and their husbands and children. I’d even found an old picture of her mom. I knew she’d love cozying up on the couch, with memories of her loved ones keeping her warm.
It was Christmas Eve, so the grocery store was a damn nightmare of people, but Dru had asked me to go out and pick up some beer and wine since we were hosting. Before I’d realized it, Ma and Mickie had snuck into my Jeep, eager to get away from Dru’s cleaning and cooking frenzy, and pick out their favorite snacks.
“Ma, let’s go,” I urged once my cart was filled with enough booze for our three families, plus Dru’s half-brothers, who were all probably already at our house. “Dru’ll be pissed if we’re late.”
“Oh, pshaw, she will not. She’s probably happy to have all of us out from under her feet so she can get stuff done faster,” Ma shot back.
I noticed that she wasn’t giving me as much sass as normal, and that she looked tired, which never failed to worry me. I hated the fact that she was getting older. It had been me and her against the world for the longest time, and I hated to think what life would be like without her.
“Jesus, Ma, how many bags of Funyons do you need? You know we’re having a full on Christmas feast tonight, right?”
“Don’t you take the Lord’s name in front of me, Micky. And, these aren’t for tonight, they’re for the weekend,” she replied, clutching three bags of Hot Funyons to her chest before dropping them in the basket on her cart.
“Da, can I get gum?” Mickie asked, looking up at me pleadingly, with his mom’s eyes.
Seriously, this kid, he could get me to do anything just by giving me that look. Gum was his current obsession. He was currently working his way through every flavor to find his favorite. Big league chew was currently in the lead, as it should be.
“Yeah, son, that’s fine, but pick one quick.”
We got in line and Mickie perused the gum while we waited. Once we were at the front, Ma tossed her items on the belt,
I added the booze, and Mickie held out his orange flavored gum to the checker.
Within minutes we were stepping out into the cold winter air.
I started the Jeep and got Ma and Mickie situated before loading up our purchases and putting away the cart and scooter.
“I gotta stop and get Dru’s blanket really quick, then we’ll head home,” I told Ma, looking in the rearview mirror to check on Mickie, who was currently chewing on a wad of gum. “Mickie, not the whole pack at once.”
I drove to the quilt shop and left the car running while I hurried in to get the blanket.
“Is that the last thing on your list?” Ma asked once I was back in and we were on our way home.
“Yup. Dru’s other presents are already wrapped and under the tree, and she took care of everyone else’s, so I know we’re good there. Tonight’s the white elephant, so we didn’t have to worry about getting something for everyone, just the one gift. What about you?” I asked, thinking it was a little late to be talking about it and hoping she wasn’t going to ask me to make another stop.
“Oh, I finished ages ago,” Ma responded and I nodded, relieved.
“Even the white elephant?” I asked, wanting to make sure.
“Yeah, I bought a porno DVD from the swap meet.”
I glanced in the mirror again, then looked at my Ma and said, “I hope you’re joking.”
Ma shook her head and grinned at me.
“Not even a little bit.”
I chuckled and shook my head. I couldn’t wait to see who got it, I really hoped it was Jackson. He’d get all flustered and start stammering. It’d be hilarious.
There were cars lining our street, but my spot was left open, so I pressed the button for the garage and drove inside.
Once Ma and Mickie were in the house, I went back out to grab the groceries, and was headed back inside when I turned to see Dru waiting on the steps.
She looked gorgeous in a red dress, her dark hair falling in long curls down her back. She was six months pregnant, so her belly was showing and her tits were fantastic. I loved the way my woman looked pregnant.