He Belongs With Me

by Sarah Darlington

  “Have you seen Clara tonight?” I tried to draw Leo's focus back to me, but his attention still lingered on Dean. Was he glaring at him now?

  “Negative,” Leo said.

  “So...she didn't even bother showing.”

  “Thank the fucking Lord for that.” Leo's eyes started to burn a hole through my date's head. “What was your name again? Dan?”

  “Dean.”

  “Funny. You don't look like a Dean.”

  The waiter returned and handed out our various drinks. I sipped my wine, pretending not to notice Leo's odd behavior. God, he was laying it on thick tonight. I never cared when he got drunk and embarrassed me before, but for some reason…I did now.

  “Have we met before?” Leo asked, continuing to badger Dean. “You look very familiar. I'm positive I know you from somewhere. Mags, where did you find this guy? He looks an awful lot like—”

  “Clara and Andrew are here,” I announced, cutting off Leo's rambling.

  My identical twin had just entered the room with Andrew Wellington crazy-glued to her arm like he was Prince Charming. Leaving Leo's side, I slipped out of my chair and quickly shifted over to an unoccupied one next to Dean. Sitting next to Leo—like I always did—wasn’t the impression I wanted to give. Sure, if I wanted to make Andrew jealous, Leo was the better choice. While dating, Andrew had always been suspicious of my relationship with him. But I hadn't asked Dean to be my date for Andrew's sake.

  “Um...show time,” I whispered to Dean. “I think she's coming this way.”

  Clara wore a tight black dress paired with the most stripper-worthy, neon-pink stilettos I’d ever seen. The heels matched the pink streaks she currently had running through her long, wavy, platinum-blonde hair. Her makeup wasn't horrible, just more than I typically wore. Between the dress, the shoes, and the hair, her style fell somewhere between dramatic and God-awful. I'm not sure if she hated looking like me or enjoyed ticking Dad off, but she never could just let her hair remain its natural blonde color. She changed it constantly and it bugged the heck out of me.

  With her head held high, she cut through the crowd like a lioness after her prey. And if she was the lioness, then that made me the water buffalo—too dumb to run away when I had the chance. Now she was coming this way and there was no chance of escape.

  My heart rate spiked but I tried not to let my nervousness show, while Leo paled like he might vomit. He and Clara hated each other. Where life had pushed Leo and me closer together over the years, it had the opposite effect with the two of them. They fought like crazy growing up. Nowadays, Clara liked to pretend Leo didn't exist and Leo had gotten better at holding his tongue where my sister was concerned. But from the look on his face, I was willing to bet tonight was about to turn sour very fast.

  “Calm down, Leo,” I said in a soft voice. “You're too drunk to get in a fight with her. Let me do the talking. I promise I'll handle it.”

  Leo shot me a nasty look before finishing off the remainder of his current drink. He plucked an onion from the empty glass and started gnawing at it like he could suck every last drop of alcohol from it. Oh God, help us all. The only person at the table who wasn't having a mini-stroke was Dean. He looked relaxed, almost amused even, and as I began to turn my attention back toward the ticking time bomb, I suddenly felt Dean rest his hand on my thigh under the table. Ah. Okay. Whoa! So we'd touched a couple times now. No biggy. But this...this did something new to me. The simple act of his warm, easy touch on my leg sent a shot of adrenaline straight to my already racing heart. Swallowing down a giant gulp of wine, I sat up a little straighter. Business. Business. Business, I reminded myself. That's all this was.

  Just when I’d convinced myself of this, Dean's thumb started moving in careful circular motions, stroking the outside of my thigh where the slit in my dress cut. And the thing was, he knew exactly what he was doing—giving me a distraction. I'm not sure if I wanted to slap him or beg him to never stop.

  “Hi, Maggie,” Clara said as she approached. “How's it going?”

  Hovering over me with Andrew still pinned to her side, Clara waited for me to acknowledge her presence. Startled by her sudden nearness—or maybe it was the gentle squeeze Dean's hand gave my thigh under the table—I leapt out of my seat like I'd been probed in the butt, causing my wine to spill. I tried to catch the glass before it fell to the floor, but I stumbled and almost fell onto Dean's lap. The glass shattered anyway and then I managed to right myself, smoothing out my dress and pretending like I wasn't the biggest klutz ever.

  “Glad you decided to show,” I said, my voice shaky. I didn't bother acknowledging Andrew—I didn't see the point. My eyes stayed fixed on my sister, but just looking at her boiled my blood. I tried to play it cool and aloof like her, but I was a horrible actress. “Nice hair. Did you dye it with Kool-Aid?”

  Clara let out a bored sigh, my comment rolling off her thick skin. “Seriously? Is that the best you can do? Kool-Aid. No, I found a five-year-old to color it with crayons. He gave me a good deal. Why, you want his number?”

  “No.”

  Lame, I know, but I couldn't think of anything better to say. I wished just once I could unhinge her with my words, but it never worked. Nothing I said ever got to her—I mean nothing. The harder I tried, the more I ended up looking like the idiot. I shut my mouth because I hated feeling so foolish. She was the one dating my ex and somehow I was the one acting like a total moron. This was so not the way I envisioned things when I brought Dean here.

  Like always, Leo came to my rescue. His drunk-behind moved out of his seat, suddenly steadier than a tightrope-walker, and positioned himself by my side. I had zero skills in the art of word warfare, but Leo was a five-star general.

  “Clara.” His voice came out smooth like mocha, as if he hadn't had a single drink all night. When he wanted it to be, his confidence was stellar. And right now he wanted it to be. “What Maggie's trying and failing to say…is that none of us are buying into your bullshit. You look calm and composed on the outside, but I know that's not how you really feel. You're starting to sweat. You're regretting letting Andrew stick his disgusting tongue down your throat. And all that grass in your hair didn't get there by accident. Whatever you're trying to prove, this isn't the way. I can see right through you—and so can everyone else.” We can? Just when I thought he was going to lay into her some more, Leo’s tone changed and he ended his argument by saying, “Clara, please. Stop this.”

  If Leo would have called me out like that, I would have fallen to my knees in a whimpering mess. Clara didn't even flinch. In fact, his words only seemed to bore her more, as indicated by the way her arms crossed over her chest and her shoulders shrugged. But the desired reaction did come as a result of Leo's words—it just didn't come from Clara.

  “That's a little harsh, Maddox, even for you,” Andrew said through gritted teeth. “Do you even know where you're at? Why don't you crawl out of Maggie's ass, go find yourself some coffee, and mind your own damn business for once in your life.” He rested one hand on Leo's shoulder. “This isn't your concern, bro.”

  Poking the bear was ill-advised. Leo's steel-blue eyes scorched red as he swatted Andrew's hand off his shoulder. “It's more my concern than it will ever be yours. And I'm not your bro.”

  Leo hated Andrew. Always had. Always would. He tolerated him while we were dating, but just barely. I could see where this train was heading—if someone didn't step in immediately, then the two guys were about to throw down a long overdue fisticuffs. Leo had been waiting years for the opportunity to smash Andrew's nose in. I'd witnessed him in several altercations and I didn't doubt his ability to take care of himself, but I didn't want to cause a scene and people were already starting to stare. My eyes shot to Clara for help, but she didn't budge.

  Heck, she looked like she wanted the guys to go at it.

  “Leo, stop it,” I said, since I still had nothing to say to Andrew. “He's not worth your time. People are watching.”

  “I
don't care who watches. And yes, this is worth every bit of my time.”

  Acting rather reluctant to get involved, Dean stood and pushed his large body between Andrew and Leo. Towering several inches above everyone and sporting the world's best ever 'don't mess with me' attitude, he said, “I love a good show, but this isn't the place. If you guys are determined to make it happen, then let's go outside. I'll even play referee.”

  Leo's anger refocused on my date. “This isn't your problem, Dan. Now back off!”

  “Calm down, Maddox,” Dean said, letting Leo’s insult roll right off of him. “I'm not your enemy.”

  Like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on my twin's head, Clara sucked in a sharp breath. “No way.” I caught the stone-cold expression on her face before she turned on her ugly, pink stilettos and marched out of the room.

  Andrew took a moment to decide what to do and then he raced after my sister.

  After their departure, Dean visibly relaxed, but the tension on Leo's face somehow managed to double. “What are you doing here?” he snapped at my date. “You must have some brass balls. After all these years, I can't believe you dared show your face again. Do you have a death wish or are you just that stupid?”

  “What's going on?” I asked, confused. “What are you talking about, Leo?”

  Dean sighed, readily accepting the hateful words, telling me that there must be some legitimacy behind the venom Leo was spitting. “Maggie sought me out, not the other way around. I'm living in the area again and followed her here tonight for nostalgia purposes. But you're right, I shouldn't have come.”

  What on earth was going on? The answer felt within reach, but I couldn't figure it out. Leo seemed to know Dean and vice versa. And although Leo hated lots of people, my date had him foaming at the mouth. Clara knew something too or she wouldn't have left so suddenly. What was I missing? What did everyone else know that I didn’t?

  “Um, could someone fill me in here? Please? And Leo...stop looking at him like that.”

  “Mags,” Leo scolded. “Come on, you’re smarter than your hair color might otherwise indicate.”

  I narrowed my eyes, waiting for an explanation.

  “Okay then,” Leo said. “I'll leave you two alone to figure this out. Dean, I'm sure you're just dying to reminisce about the good ol' days, but after tonight, don't ever let me catch you around here again. Not unless you want to find my fist in your face.”

  Leo turned to me, his face softening as he said, “Always.” And with that parting code word, my best friend in the world left me stranded and mystified.

  I turned to the only person left. “Who are you?”

  Dean groaned, and the look on his face told me he was offended before his words had the chance to. “It's insulting how blind you are. Did I mean so little to you back then that you can't even remember me now? Think it over. I'm sure you'll figure this out.”

  Then he too walked away.

  Standing awkward and alone, I watched my date stride toward the door before the jumbled pieces fell into place. The answer knocked me off my feet like a Category 5 hurricane. I slumped down in the nearest chair, stunned that I could be so idiotic.

  Dean wasn't a stranger like he'd been pretending all night. Nope, he was none other than my ex-stepbrother, Robert Harvey. Our parents had been married for three short months, but he never went by Dean back then. It had been six summers since we had last seen or spoken to one another. Time had changed his appearance dramatically, but now that I recognized Dean as Robby, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that that's who I'd so ignorantly asked to be my date tonight.

  Robby Harvey. The first guy I ever kissed. The first guy I ever loved. The first guy to ever see me naked. And the first guy to crush my heart into a million pieces. Andrew Wellington had nothing on the pain Robby once caused me. I guess it's not surprising I didn't recognize him. I'd blocked him from my mind for a very good reason, and now that I realized who he was, I wished I could forget all over again.

  Dad appeared from somewhere among the crowd, joining me at Leo's abandoned table. “My sweet Maggie May, was that Monica Harvey's son I saw leaving? Want to explain what he was doing here, honey?”

  No, I certainly did not. But good for Dad—even he could recognize the guy better than me.

  CHAPTER 4

  CLARA

  Crying in the bushes. Could my life get any more pathetic? Nope. Probably not.

  Here are the facts I could gather: Maggie found out I was dating Andrew Wellington, and even though I thought I was doing her a favor, she didn't know that. As retaliation, she brought Robby Harvey as her date.

  It had been a long time since I'd thought or cared about Robby Harvey. But at one time, I'd been crazy infatuated with my ex-stepbrother. Or maybe I’d imagined I was. Truthfully, I'm not sure I'd ever really been in love with anyone. Nevertheless, Maggie had liked Robby too. But in the end, he chose her over me.

  I never knew Maggie and Robby had stayed in contact, but somehow I wasn't all that surprised. And she picked tonight of all nights to show off how much they still cared for one another. I wasn't blind. Even before fully realizing Robby was Robby, I'd noticed his hand resting on Maggie's leg and the way his eyes watched over her protectively. They clearly still cared for each other—like not a single day had passed—and once again, I felt like the loser in the situation.

  Maggie sure showed me. Time had transformed Robby from an average-looking duckling to a sexy swan. So while the only guy even remotely interested in me was Andrew Wellington and his sweaty palms, Maggie would be cuddled up tonight with the elusive Robby Harvey. But it wasn't necessarily Robby who had me feeling all kinds of jealous. It was that Maggie, like always, had someone who loved her when I had no one.

  In all my twenty-one years, I'd never successfully had a boyfriend of my own and it's all I’d ever wanted. Was it too much to ask to have someone to confide in and share my future Arizona dream house and its pebble yard with? I wanted someone to love. Really love. Like 'let's have babies, get married, and call each other stupid pet names'—that sort of love. I wanted it so badly that my heart ached as if it had a great big giant hole in it. Even worse, my virginity was still intact because no one was ever good enough to fill the gap.

  So, pathetically enough, I'd resorted to crying my eyes out and ducking behind the bushes. I watched from my little hideout as Andrew followed me outside and searched for all of five seconds before he gave up and left. I didn't care. I was so over pretending to be with him. I'd call him tomorrow and break it off, but for now, staying safe in my sanctuary of shrubbery was all that mattered.

  I can see right through you. Agh! Really? C'mon!

  Leo Maddox's words rang in my head and I desperately tried to forget them. Like he possessed X-ray vision, that jackass really could see through my shit. All my insecurities, all my pretenses, all my fears...apparently on display for his viewing pleasure. And his favorite pastime, from the moment he could string sentences together, was picking on me. The three of us—Maggie, Leo, and I—had grown up together, and even though Maggie and I were blood, time and time again she always chose her Leo over me. And vice versa.

  Whatever.

  They could have each other. But what really set me off—what added to my already heavy heart—was just how right Leo was. Like always, he never teased me with lies. Only truths. And truths always hurt worse. He seemed to know me better than anyone and I hated him with a passion for it. And then the way he ended his little speech, saying, Clara, please, stop this. Like he actually cared. That was the cherry on top of his shit sundae.

  Roughly fifteen more minutes ticked by before I regained some composure. Drying my blubbery eyes, I figured it was time to call an end to this wacko night. I'd allowed myself to wallow long enough and it was time to head back to the house. I'd feel better snuggled up in my own bed, with a bowl of ice cream in one hand and the remote control in the other.

  Dad's sprawling mansion sat on the outskirts of the golf course proper
ty about three miles away, but if I took a shortcut through the middle of the course, it was only a 1.5 mile walk. So when the coast was clear, I left my hideout and crept along the edge of the building, heading in the direction of the house.

  On my way, I noticed a few golf carts parked behind the Clubhouse. Why walk when I had access to a perfectly accessible mode of transportation just waiting for my personal use? Some idiot even left the keys in the ignition. Awesome sauce. So, against my better judgment, I decided to commandeer a ride. Revving that baby up, I pressed hard on the gas and sped off toward home.

  Talk about some much-needed fun. Totally ignoring the 'cart path only' rule, I drove wherever the hell I wanted. Why had I never thought to do this before? Oh yeah, because Dad would kill me for this. But, unlike my twin, disobeying always felt like freedom to me. And that's what this was—pure freedom. The wind in my hair. The danger of getting caught by Dad's security cameras. The fear of crashing into a sand trap.

  I should have stolen a golf cart and taken it out for a joy ride ages ago.

  And it was all fun and games until I hit a person. Of course, that would be my luck. What kind of moron was wandering around the golf course at night anyway? Cutting through the rough between holes—next to a particularly wooded and poorly lit area of the course—a dark figure popped out of nowhere. I screamed my head off, slammed my foot on the brakes and tried my best to swerve, but ended up clipping the innocent wanderer right in the ass.

  Oh crap! Oh crap! I just killed someone!

  As the cart came to an abrupt stop, I jumped from behind the wheel and raced to assess the damage. I hoped like holy hell I hadn't just murdered some poor bastard. Forget about getting heat from Dad. I'd be carted off to a windowless prison for twenty-five to life for this!