by K. A. Linde
Yeah, she wouldn’t normally say that about herself, but she did spend most Sunday afternoons here.
“Shut up, Holloway,” Bryna spat.
Andrew laughed and held his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying…”
“Well, don’t.”
Eric didn’t engage them as he sat up and toweled off. Then, finally…finally, he looked up at her. “Did you need something?”
Bryna shifted under his scrutiny and took an uninvited seat. “I got back from my spa day and thought I’d come over.”
“Really?” He sounded disbelieving.
“Yeah. I wanted to check in on you.”
“Come on. The truth, Hollywood.”
Bryna tilted her head up. This was the truth. Mostly. “You didn’t come back to the party last night.” After I kissed you. “I haven’t heard from you all day.”
“And?”
“And I wanted to check on you,” she repeated.
“What exactly am I missing here?” Andrew asked. He grabbed his own towel and rubbed at the back of his neck.
“Bryna is here to apologize, but she’s really bad at it. She’s going to need to try harder,” Eric informed him.
“You’re an ass. I’m not here to apologize,” she said.
Andrew nodded. “I’d have to agree. That sounds unlikely. Bri doesn’t apologize.”
“See? I’m here because I haven’t heard from you.”
Eric shrugged. “Fine. If you’re not here to apologize, then you can go. We’re busy.” He lay back down on the bench.
Andrew laughed hysterically. “You know, maybe I should go.” He grabbed his T-shirt and gym bag and started for the door.
“There’s nothing I’m going to say that you can’t hear,” Bryna said.
“Yeah, but I suddenly feel like I’m in the middle of an argument between an old married couple.”
“Oh, ha-ha,” Bryna spat. She couldn’t believe Andrew. “You’re hilarious.”
“You have no reason to leave,” Eric said.
Andrew shrugged. “I’m going to go anyway. I’ll see you guys later. I have a feeling you’ll be waiting for that apology for a while.” He left, and his laughter followed him down the stairs.
“So…” Bryna said.
“Yep.”
“Do you want to go get dinner or something? I’m starved.”
Eric sat up with rapid speed and stared at her in disbelief. “You’re really going to skirt the issue and act like nothing happened?”
“It’s worked for me before.”
“Hardly.”
“Fine! I was drunk, and I kissed you. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.” It was a lie.
She had felt bad about it all day. She hadn’t meant for it to happen, and his reaction had been even worse.
“No big deal?”
“You’ve never kissed anyone while you were drunk?”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “But usually, it was because they wanted me to.”
She wanted to say that she hadn’t known he wouldn’t want it, but that wasn’t true either. She had known and done it anyway. It wasn’t her finest moment.
“Yeah. Drunk,” she reminded him. “I guess I shouldn’t have done it.”
He tilted his chin down and observed her. “You can do better than that. Apologize like you mean it.”
“You’re insufferable.”
Eric stood and walked toward her. He stopped when he was only a foot away from her. His hazel eyes were a mix of disappointment and frustration. “I’m your friend, Bri. Real friends apologize when they fuck up. They don’t act like they’re better. They don’t pretend like it never happened. They don’t push back when you call them out on their mistake. I realize this friend thing is new to you, and you’re used to guys throwing themselves at your feet. But I’m not that guy. You knew the consequences and what it could cost me when you kissed me, but you did it anyway. I think I’m in the right in expecting an apology.”
“I know,” she said softly.
Their little game was over. Knots worked at her stomach, and she hated that she’d hurt him. Because he did look hurt. Did he know I’d kissed him because Audrey was there? Did he know I’d been jealous? Would he still want this friendship if he did know?
And Eric was right. He was the first real friend she’d had…maybe ever. She cared too much about his feelings, which had never happened before either. She had never cared about whether or not she hurt someone. She always avoided the confrontation or pushed them out of her life because she didn’t care enough or she didn’t want to deal with the fallout.
But not with Eric.
“You know?” he asked. He shook his head and walked away.
“I’m sorry,” she stuttered out. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
He sighed and sank into the chair. His eyes found hers across the room. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Just like that?”
“You actually apologized. I didn’t think you would.”
“I don’t like you being upset with me.”
“You were just drunk.”
His eyes looked haunted, and she wondered what he was thinking when he looked at her.
“You know I can’t stay mad at you.” Somehow, the way he’d said it though made it seem like everything wasn’t okay.
She was forgiven, but there was something more…and she didn’t know what she could do to fix it.
Maybe she couldn’t.
THE CROWD ROARED AS THE GOLD TEAM scored the final touchdown of the spring scrimmage game. It made Bryna smile even wider because that meant Marshall had beat Pace. All in a day’s work.
As the stadium emptied out, Stacia ran up to Bryna. She was decked out in a silver uniform for Pace’s team, and Bryna was wearing the traditional gold for Marshall’s side.
“Good game, huh?” Stacia asked.
“Yep. Good to be back. I hate that we have to wait five more months until we’re on the sidelines again.”
“Heartbreaking.”
“Definitely.” Bryna waved as Trihn hopped over the railing keeping her from the turf. “Hey!”
“Hey, guys,” Trihn said.
“Hey!” Stacia touched Bryna’s arm. “Can I talk to you later?”
“You’re talking to me now,” Bryna pointed out.
“I know but later, too. Alone?”
“Okay?” Bryna said questioningly.
“Don’t worry.”
Bryna raised her eyebrows. “I wasn’t until you said that. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she squeaked. “We’ll talk later.” Then, she turned and jogged toward the locker room without looking back.
“That was fucking weird,” Bryna said to Trihn.
Trihn shrugged. “Stacia is a weird chick.”
Bryna gave Trihn a suspicious look. “Do you know what this is all about?”
“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you before she did.” Trihn held up her hands to fend off Bryna’s likely attack. “Hear her out.”
“Fine.” But she didn’t have to like it.
“I’ll see you at Posse later. Meet you there!” Trihn said.
Bryna shook her head in confusion. She wondered what Stacia wanted to talk to her about and why Trihn wouldn’t clue her in. Stacia had said not to worry, but it’d automatically made her worry.
She shook off the feeling and sought out Eric.
“Hey, everyone is heading to Posse. You up for it?” she asked him.
His eyes darted to hers and then back out to the field. “I think I’m going to call it quits tonight. I’m exhausted, and I don’t feel like partying.”
“What? Since when?”
Eric ran a hand back through his hair. “I have a huge test on Monday. I’m stressing it, so I’m not really feeling the scene tonight. After the spring game, Posse gets wild.”
Bryna frowned. This was unlike Eric. He wanted to skip out on a party to, what? Sleep? Study?
Those things could wait until Sunday or the summer.
“Is this because of what happened last time?” she asked, shifting from one foot to the other.
Things with Eric had been rocky ever since she threw the party at her house. No matter what she did, it didn’t seem like they could find their rhythm anymore. She hadn’t thought one kiss would fuck everything up.
“I’m not going to drink that much,” she added.
“No. It’s fine. I know you’re going to drink more than you expect to. You always do. Go and have a good time.”
“Okay,” she said uncertainly.
He already seemed to be occupied with something else. She shrugged it off and headed back to the locker room to change out of her uniform. She was just on edge. Between Stacia having something to talk to her about and Eric not coming out tonight, she wasn’t sure what to make of it all. But she didn’t like it.
A couple of hours later, she was standing at the bar at Posse with Trihn and Neal. A bunch of the football players were already in attendance. Maya was pouring round after round, and it was clear that what Eric had said about the scene after the spring game was true. It was going to get fucking crazy.
She’d promised herself she wasn’t going to get out of hand. Without Eric here, she didn’t really want to anyway.
“You’re not drinking like a fish, Queen Bee,” Maya said. She shifted into her hip and stuck Bryna with a questioning stare.
“Yeah. I’m waiting for Stacia to get here. Do you know why she needs to talk to me?”
Maya shrugged her dark shoulders. “Bartenders know everything.”
“And? What is it?”
“I’m not spilling.” The look she gave Bryna was absolute. “That goes against the code.”
“There is no code,” Bryna told her.
“Oh, there’s a code.”
“What are you? A pirate? Should I ask for parlay?”
“Oh, you’re funny.” Maya shook her head. Her dark locks framed her face, and her returning smile was genuine. “You just don’t know the code because you don’t bartend.”
“Fine. Does everyone know this secret, except for me?”
Maya smirked. That was answer enough.
“Great.” This was beginning to get ridiculous. How do I not know if everyone else does?
“There’s your little cheer slut now,” Maya said. She pointed out Stacia walking in from the patio door.
She was wringing her hands in front of her. This was not going to be good.
“Thanks.”
Bryna walked right up to her, unafraid. She couldn’t wait around and wonder any longer.
“What do you need to talk to me about?”
Stacia’s eyes widened. “Um…let’s go over here.”
She grabbed Bryna’s arm, and they walked to a more secluded part of the club. Stacia looked seriously nervous.
“Oh my God, spit it out. This is like waiting to open presents on Christmas morning, and your parents want to actually wake up and drink coffee first. Not that we ever had Christmas like that, and I always knew my presents ahead of time, but still…”
Stacia flinched. “Sorry.”
“Well?” Bryna spat anxiously.
“So, I don’t want you to bug, but I’m kind of, sort of dating Pace,” she said in a rush.
Silence stretched between them. Bryna was sure she hadn’t heard Stacia right. Stacia had spoken so fast that it must have been unclear. She had not just said she was dating Bryna’s creepy, disgusting, pigheaded stepbrother.
“What?” Bryna asked, her voice like ice.
“I know! I wanted to tell you in person. I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else, so I asked everyone not to tell you. We’ve been sleeping around, but it was no big deal,” Stacia cried. “He was just another football player.”
“And now, he’s not?”
“No. We’ve been getting serious, B. I had to let you know. I know you told me not to touch him with a ten-foot pole, but I mean, I didn’t think it mattered if it was just sex. That doesn’t mean anything. You know how it is. Then, we hung out and talked, and he’s really kind of…great.”
“Great,” Bryna said hollowly.
“Don’t be mad.”
“Why would I be mad?” Bryna asked. “I just specifically told you to stay away from him because you don’t know what he’s capable of, and you’ve been fucking him behind my back. Then, you’ve started dating him and come to talk to me as if it doesn’t matter. Like I won’t care after I moved out of my house twice to escape him.”
“Bryna,” Stacia murmured awkwardly.
“Did he tell you to tell me about this?”
“No!” she cried. “He actually said not to tell you. He was worried about your reaction.”
“I’m sure.”
“Come on!”
“He’s totally playing you, and you don’t even see it. He wanted you to be quiet about it, so he could tell me himself. It’s all a fucking game with him. He wanted me to get pissed, so I’d isolate myself from my friends. It’s fucking high school all over again.”
“No! Bryna, it’s not like that,” Stacia said. Her eyes brimmed with tears.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about! Pace is obsessed with me. He’s wanted to fuck me since he moved into my parents’ house with his Valley trash mother. He’s trying to get to me through you, like he did senior year when he slept with my two best friends over New Year’s. This whole thing is another ploy.”
“God, B! Do you think of anyone but yourself? Pace likes me, and it’s not because of you. You sound pissed that one of your many admirers isn’t fawning over you, and someone else is getting the attention for once.”
Bryna’s mouth dropped open. “That is not the case. The last person I want fawning over me is Pace. I’d be perfectly happy for you if this were any other guy.”
“Fine. Don’t be happy for me, but get used to it because I’m not changing my mind.”
“Is this because he’s a quarterback? I know you want an NFL quarterback, S. Pace is the backup.”
“It’s his first year,” she spat. “He’ll start when Marshall leaves. And no, it’s not about that. I actually like him.”
“I can’t see how.”
“I knew this would be difficult, but you’re my friend. Can’t you at least pretend to be supportive? Even if you have to lie?”
Bryna ground her teeth. “It would be a lie.”
Stacia harrumphed, shook her head, and then stormed off without a word. Clearly, Bryna’s reaction had pissed her off too much. Maybe if it Pace really wasn’t using her, then Bryna could get used to the idea. Maybe. But it seemed unlikely.
Bryna’s eyes searched the room. Stacia had stomped over to Trihn and Maya and was probably talking shit about the confrontation. But that wasn’t who Bryna wanted to see. Her eyes found Pace standing next to the patio door, talking to some other football players.
She angrily stalked over to him, and the other guys scattered.
“What the fuck?”
“So, Stacia told you, huh?”
“Do you always have to try to ruin my life?” she spat.
“I don’t have to try. You’re really good at it on your own.”
“Ugh!” she cried out. “It’s just another game! Avery and Tara all over again, right?”
“No,” he admitted. “I actually like Stacia.”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
“I told her not to tell you because I knew you’d react this way, but shocking, your friends don’t know your past. I was saving you some anger, but now that you know, stay away from Stacia. You’re not going to change her mind. We’re together. The end.”
Bryna screamed in frustration. What the fuck is wrong with the world?
She couldn’t handle being out right now. This was all too much. She wasn’t really pissed at Stacia. Bryna was just angry that Stacia had let Pace manipulate her so well. She had no idea what he was doing, and when she did find out, Bryna
feared for her friend. She wasn’t sure Stacia could handle it.
Without another word to anyone else, Bryna stalked out of Posse. She walked to her car in the parking lot and drove across town to Eric’s house. She was too keyed up to go home. Eric would be able to calm her down after all of that. He always knew the right things to say.
She ground her teeth. She hoped Eric was ready to get fucked up because she wanted to down a bottle of liquor and forget the evening. Forget that Stacia and Pace were dating.
Bryna pushed open Eric’s front door.
“Eric?” she called.
No answer.
She hadn’t really expected one. He was probably studying. It was still pretty early, but he could be asleep.
Tossing her purse and heels at the base of the stairs, Bryna ambled into the kitchen. She dug through the pantry to find a half-empty bottle of Maker’s Mark.
“Perfect,” she muttered.
She grabbed two glasses out of the cupboard. They weren’t crystal or fancy or anything, but they would do in a dire situation. Good enough for now. Good enough to wash away the thought of Pace.
She paused and decided it might not be a bad idea to take a shot first. Then, she could have a head start. Eric would understand. Unscrewing the top, Bryna placed her mouth to the bottle and let the bourbon burn down her throat.
“Holy shit!”
She replaced the top on the bottle, clinked the two glasses between her fingers, and tiptoed up the stairs. The door was closed to his room, but she could see a sliver of light through the crack at the bottom. Maker’s was going to make studying really interesting.
She jiggled the door handle, trying to force it open with her hands full. Frustration creasing her temple, she leaned into the door with her shoulder and shoved it open as the handle clicked. Unceremoniously, she stumbled forward into the room, keeping a tight grip on the precious cargo in her hands.
Her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, and the scene before her came into focus. A dirty brunette was bent over at the waist. Her mangled mess of hair was tossed forward across the bed, obscuring her face where it was trapped against the wad of comforter she was holding on to for dear life. Her red tank was hanging off the end of the bed. Perfect smooth hands had a grip on her waist.