by Celia Aaron
I glared at her as Carter pulled out her chair. She locked eyes with me, the challenge apparent. She’d been trying to get me back together with Carter for two years straight. She still hadn’t given up, and now Braden was caught in a mother-daughter pissing match. I would win, but I had to be careful. Mom was craftier than a seventy-year-old at a scrapbooking convention.
She waved at the cook, who began serving the salad course. Braden kept wiping his palms down his pants, and a visible sweat mustache had formed along his upper lip. Dad scowled, Mom simpered, and Carter didn’t take his light blue eyes off me. Tense was an understatement.
I cleared my throat. “Braden’s the catcher for the Ravens. They won their game on Thurs—”
“Carter, how’s the paper business going? I heard you’re managing the finances.” Mom began cutting her salad into very particular little squares, her silverware clicking against the plate.
“Oh, it’s fine. I have to watch the market like a hawk, determine trends, use data to ensure I’m on top of everything. Just boring high-level mathematics, mostly calculus. Did you ever take a calculus class in college, Braden?” Carter smiled, a piece of lettuce in his teeth.
Braden paused mid-chew. “I didn’t go to college.”
Carter knew that, of course. I wanted to somehow kick him in the balls under the table.
“Oh, of course. Sorry.” He sipped his lemon water, pinky out. “I forgot that baseball players focus on physical exertions more than intellect.”
“How much intellect does it take to waltz through college on Mommy and Daddy’s money and then take a job at Daddy’s shit-paper company?” I took an angry bite of salad, the Caesar dressing tart and tangy on my tongue.
Mom coughed into her hand and shot me a stony glare.
Braden patted my thigh. “It’s all right, Nikki. We can’t all be as physically fit as I am. Some people are better suited for sitting behind a desk all day, never getting their hands dirty, and playing on calculators. And then there are those of us who are better suited for more—” He glanced at me, the light in his eyes scandalous. “—physical exertions.”
He slid his hand up my thigh, under my skirt, and ran his fingertips along my panties. I shuddered and fidgeted in my chair.
Carter took a larger gulp of lemon water and returned to his salad, eyes down.
“I saw your last game. Pity about that long ball. I thought it was gone.” My father’s frown had gone from full engagement to half-hearted. I had no doubt my mother had instructed him to be a disagreeable grump—which was quite natural to him, really—but his love of the game cut through her bullshit.
Mother, undeterred, tried again. “Carter, could you tell us—”
“I heard the guy that caught it is on the disabled list, though. Bruised his rib something terrible reaching out to get it.” My father smiled at Braden. Mom was too late; the tide had turned to baseball.
“Good. Lucky son-of-a—” he glanced at my mother “—I mean, I thought I had him burned. But he got lucky.”
My father and Braden fell into easy conversation over the ins and outs of the game as Carter and Mom sulked. I ate and drank contentedly, with Braden’s hand between my thighs all the while.
BRADEN
AFTER DINNER, I walked up a giant spiral staircase behind Nik’s dad and this Carter chump. I hadn’t been able to get a good read on Mr. Graves, but I wasn’t about to take any more shit off of Carter. Not a chance.
“Have you ever played billiards?” Carter popped his head back and glanced down at me with a shitty stare, like I was the help. It was the way guys like him seemed to look down at everyone.
“I know how to shoot pool. If that’s what you’re asking.” I continued up the stairs that seemed to go on forever, and wished I was anywhere but there.
Carter belted out an obnoxious chuckle, the kind of shit that would be in a bad movie where the wealthy people laugh at the peasants. He’d taken any shot he could during dinner—doing his best to ding my intellect and puff himself up in front of Nikki and her parents. Her father managed to get in some baseball talk with me, but the rest of the time was taken up with Carter’s stories. Nikki’s mother practically drooled all over the smug bastard and gave me only sidelong glances. This wasn’t my scene, and every comment from Carter reinforced that fact.
Calm down. It’s just another hour or two and then you can make Nik scream your name and come on your dick.
I calmed at my thoughts and smiled up at Carter, knowing I’d be balls-deep in the pussy he was after. I’d already won.
When we reached the top, my head was on a swivel, taking in the scenery. Ornate woodwork and shelves stretched around the expansive walls, and the carpet was a rich cream color. Fancy leather furniture and chairs surrounded three sides of the pool table, which sat in the middle of the room. A full bar and large flat-screen television rounded out the place. It was the most hoity-toity fucking man cave in history, and I couldn’t help but snicker.
“Something funny, Braden?” Carter leaned against the back of the closest chair.
I didn’t respond, just stared him down.
Mr. Graves acted oblivious to the rising tension as we followed him toward the table. “Billiards is a fine combination of art and science, Braden.”
Somebody blow my brains out.
Whipping his goldilocks around, Carter glanced back once more and smirked.
“Much like baseball,” Mr. Graves continued. He turned to us when we reached a selection of fancy pool cues hanging on a wooden rack alongside the television. “It requires patience, focus, strategy, and muscle memory.”
Rich people always baffled me. It was funny, because technically I was one of them now, but I was anything but comfortable in this mansion. Baseball came naturally to me. Shooting pool was trying to put the ball in the hole. What was this guy on about?
“I watch the way you play the game. You’re a very intelligent ballplayer.” He smiled and turned back to select a stick.
“Hear that, Carter? I’m intelligent.” My words were muttered under my breath.
Carter caught them and turned to me.
“What, pretty boy? Don’t like the competition?” I pretend-kissed the air at him and waggled my eyebrows. Fuck it. I was going to have some fun with this prick instead of stewing on all the bullshit running through my brain.
He raised his chin so that he could sneer at me once more. I’m sure he thought it was cool, but it made him look like an ass clown.
“You’re an imbecile who cashed in on the lottery. Because you’re good at a game. That’s not competition for me.” He flashed that cocky smirk at me again.
Prick.
“All right boys, choose your weapons.” Mr. Graves, still ignoring our sparring, had finally selected his pool cue.
“Gladly.” I grabbed the first one I saw, whipped around, and pretended to take a swing at Carter, stopping the stick inches from his rib cage. He flinched like a quivering cunt bag. I couldn’t verify, but I’m certain he pissed his frilly panties a little.
“Jesus! Just messing with you, Carter. Lighten up. He said weapons, so I thought maybe we were going to fight with these things.”
Mr. Graves stared at me, finally catching on to the strain in the air. “What are you doing?”
Something about the way he said it, the way Carter was smirking—heat rushed into my face, and I gripped the cue as hard as I could. “Nothing. Won’t happen again.” My words came through my teeth.
Carter shook his head. “Embarrassing. You’d think you could hand an idiot a stick in the twenty-first century and they wouldn’t go all primitive. Turns out you can’t.” He shrugged and whipped his head back around with a shit-eating grin.
“Let’s have a drink. Maybe that will help us warm up for the friendly game.” Mr. Graves walked to the fully stocked bar and set down three high ball glasses. Carter and I followed him over and watched as he poured.
“This brings back memories.” Carter tapped his finge
rs on the bar. “I haven’t had your good whiskey since that time Nikki and I snuck in here while you and Cat were sleeping.”
I shifted from one foot to the next, ready to whip this guy’s ass for just mentioning Nikki. Then again, curiosity began to overwhelm me. How well did he know her?
“Oh?” Mr. Graves tsked. “Stealing the good stuff? When was that? I don’t remember.”
“It’s been a few years. You and Cat had just returned from a long weekend away.” Carter took his glass and sipped, his eyes locked on mine. “I’d stayed to keep Nikki company all weekend. We had a great time.”
That was enough for me.
“How about I break this stick off in your ass, Carter McShitPaper?”
Mr. Graves spewed high-dollar whiskey all over the bar, and started to choke on it. Carter stiffened straight as a goddamn board, as I stepped toward him. He tugged at his five-hundred-dollar shirt collar.
Mr. Graves darted forward and somehow wedged his lanky frame between us. Carter smirked at me once more. That was all it took. I blew my lid.
“Don’t think I won’t go through him and pound your goddamn pretty-boy face!” My voice boomed through the house, echoing off the fancy walls and other expensive shit these people cared about.
“I think it’s time you leave.” Mr. Graves words were slow and steady, but his fingers on my arm were trembling.
“Happy to. And I apologize, to you. But not to the fancy-feast bowtie-pussy behind you. He says another word about my girl, and I’ll pound his ass!”
Two sets of heels clacked against the stairs like twin jackhammers. Nikki appeared and came scurrying in our direction with her mother hot on her trail. “Whose ass are you about to pound?” She stopped about two feet away and folded her arms over her chest.
Shit.
My skin burned hot from head to toe, and rage coursed through my veins. The longer I stood enclosed within these walls, with these people, the worse I felt. I’d never been this way in my entire life. But something about Nikki and that cunt face Carter boiled everything to the surface. I attempted to steady my breathing. It wasn’t happening. Even so, I stepped away from Nikki’s father and headed toward the door.
“I know whose ass I used to pound.” Carter flashed a smile at Nik.
The Hulk returned. I flipped back around and shot Carter the bird. “Fuck you, Nick Carter! You goddamn backdoor boy! Your teeth are about to end up on this carpet!”
“Let’s go, Braden.” Nik dug her nails into my forearm, and I stared at her bright-pink face. I couldn’t tell if it was anger, embarrassment, sadness—I hoped it was none, but knew it was probably all three.
I dropped my gaze to the floor. My rage sparred with the worry I’d embarrassed Nikki. Or worse, hurt her. Fuck. “Okay,” I nodded, “Let’s go.”
I strode to the stairs with Nik at my side. She was still gripping my arm.
“I’m sorry, everyone.” I didn’t bother turning to look at them. They didn’t give a fuck about my apology.
“Yeah, you should be.” Carter’s voice echoed around us, but I was done with him. Fuck it.
Nik dropped my arm and flipped around. “You need to shut your goddamn mouth, Carter! You shouldn’t even be here! Braden is my boyfriend, not you. I don’t care what sort of game you and Mom are playing. You and I are never going to get back together.” She stomped her foot. “So stop trying to make fetch happen!”
I glanced back and the three of them stood silent while Nik shook a finger at them. It was pretty goddamn hot to be honest. I hadn’t seen her so angry since Easton beat the shit out of Kyrie’s ex in the bar.
Nikki’s mother put her hands on her bony hips. “Just wait a—”
Nik shook, anger radiating from her small frame. “No! You wait a minute. Like nobody knows what the hell you did tonight. This isn’t all on Braden. You know exactly what you did, and this night is done. I wish I’d never brought him here. You’re an embarrassment.” Nik twirled around and blew past me. “Come on. Now.”
I chased after her down the stairs. My dick tried to rocket through my zipper at the sight of her storming off, but I had a feeling she was about to deflate the fuck out of the poor guy. She lit into me before we could make it out the door.
“What the fuck, Braden?” She yanked the front door open and stormed down the porch steps toward the car. “I don’t know what your deal is.”
When she turned to face me halfway down the circle drive, the moonlight reflected the tears suspended in the corner of her eyes. “Where are you? I know you’re in there. I miss you.”
I could tell she was about to lose it. My heart raced, and worry pooled in the pit of my stomach. I stared at the ground and kicked at a crack in the driveway. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.” She folded her arms and scowled.
I looked back at the trio of assholes now standing on the porch. The sight of Carter had my blood heating to an alarming degree. I ground my teeth together. “Not here.”
“I need to know, now. You’re not getting me in that car until I know what the problem is. You haven’t been yourself since the game the other night.”
“I said not now.” I stomped past her as tears streamed down her cheeks.
She didn’t follow me. I glanced back, and she covered her mouth with her palm.
I froze stiff. She stood there, hurting right in front of me. I wanted to hug her and tell her everything, but all I could see was Carter up there smirking his fucking dick off. Her mother tried to hide a smile when I looked at her, and failed miserably.
Everything from the past few days rushed out of me, and Nik was the one in my sights, waiting to take the brunt of it. My feet pounded on the pavement, and I leaned down to her face. “My stats have been shit all year. Nothing is going my goddamn way. Coach called me into his office after the game. Know what he said? Do you, Nik?”
I kept my voice low as she sobbed into her hand. “They’re looking to trade me, or just cut me loose. That play that made all the highlight reels might be the last bit of baseball that I have to hold onto. Me. Failing. What the fuck am I if I’m not on a ballfield?” My voice rose. “Shit! Shit is all I am. Your boyfriend Carter up there got that one right. Didn’t he?”
She continued to weep in front of me, and I still couldn’t stop the onslaught.
“I-I didn’t know that, B-Braden. Y-you didn’t tell me.”
I clenched my fists. “Maybe because all you could talk about was meeting your parents.” I held my hands up and mocked her. “Oh, what a great idea that was! Look at them. Hey, they’re happy now.” I walked back to the car.
She stilled.
“Baseball is all I’ve got. And all you cared about was this stupid night.” I hated myself as soon as the words left my mouth.
“B-baseball is all y-you’ve got?” She barely got the words out before the sobs increased tenfold.
Reality crashed into me like a Mack truck. Carter wasn’t the biggest prick here. It was me. What the fuck did I just do? I looked away and took in a huge breath of night air. “I’m sorry. I just—you know what I mean. Come home. We’ll figure it out.”
Mr. Graves walked down the steps and put his arm around Nik’s shoulders.
I took a step toward her. “Nikki, please?”
She was damn near catatonic, just standing there, staring at the ground as her tears splattered on the concrete. I’d reduced her to this, all because I couldn’t handle my own bullshit. She buried her face in her father’s shoulder and sobbed.
Regret ripped through my chest, the pain sudden and searing. “Nik, please? I’m sorry.”
Mr. Graves looked up at me. “Maybe you should head home, Braden. You two can sort this out tomorrow.”
I couldn’t look away from her. “Is that what you want?”
Carter piped up. “Of course it’s what she—”
Mr. Graves turned to Carter and held up a hand. “Zip it, son.”
Nikki still refused to look at me, and my heart tight
ened like a vise was clamping down on it with every second that passed. Mr. Graves turned around slowly. “My daughter has had enough tonight, Braden. Just give her a little time.”
I shook my head again, grinding my jaw and staring at that smirking motherfucker. But I knew Mr. Graves was right. Something about the way he spoke to Carter—I knew Nik would be safe. But he wasn’t the threat. I was. I’d done a lot of damage in a short amount of time. Fuck.
My eyes started to mist, and I didn’t want Carter to have the satisfaction of seeing me cry for the first time in fifteen years. I nodded. “O-okay then.” I glanced at Nik one last time, and wanted the whole ordeal to be a nightmare I’d wake up from in a cold sweat, with her next to me to grab hold of. She still trembled against her father. “Sorry for ruining your evening.”
I walked to the car, regret ripping through my body with every step. When I pulled out of the driveway, and Nik disappeared in the rearview mirror, I couldn’t keep the tears at bay anymore. What had I just done?
NIKKI
KYRIE PULLED ME into her arms as Easton closed the front door of their apartment behind us. I still hadn’t been able to stop crying. Dad had dropped me here so I could stay the night with Kyrie. I couldn’t stand to be anywhere near Carter or Mom after everything that had happened.
Kyrie shushed me and ran her hand through my hair. “It’ll be okay. Just tell me what happened.”
“I’ll just be, uh, I’ll be doing the dishes or something.” Easton took off toward the kitchen like the hounds of hell were after him.
“Fat chance,” Kyrie mumbled and guided me toward their bedroom. She set me on the edge of the bed and wiped her thumbs across my cheeks. “I’ll get you some water. Hang on.”
My phone beeped again and again. I dug it out of my bag and turned the ringer off. Braden would have to wait. I couldn’t speak to him, couldn’t even think about him without feeling a knife in my ribs.
“I don’t want water.” I swiped at my eyes.