Betting the Bad Boy (Behind the Bar)

by Stefanie London

  Paige leaned against the kitchen counter as she poured the juice. It was a little too easy to imagine herself sitting with Noah at the small round table that took up one corner of the room. To see them cooking in the kitchen together, their hands straying to each other instead of tending to their food. To see them staying up late talking on the couch like they’d done last night.

  You’ve only known this guy for a couple weeks. This is crazy.

  But Paige was the kind of woman who knew what she wanted. Who knew what worked. Who knew down to the very marrow of her bones when something was right. Gut instinct was strong in her family—her parents had gotten engaged after only two months of dating. They knew a future when they saw it, and so did she. Being with Noah made her feel whole. It made her pretty darn happy to be her, and that experience was totally foreign.

  He might say that he’s not into relationships, but why tell her to stay? Why bet her for another night? Why invite her to breakfast?

  Last night wasn’t just a hookup. She was sure of it.

  Paige sighed, trying to think of how to approach this messy, tangled-up situation, when a flash of something dark caught her eye. Breath stuck in her throat she tiptoed quietly around the kitchen counter and found a woman lying on his couch. Dark hair splayed out around her and she wore only a black crop top and a pair of underwear.

  What in the hell…

  Paige turned sharply to go and fetch Noah, but her toe clipped the edge of the coffee table and she yelped.

  The woman jolted awake and pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Who are you?” Paige folded her arms across her chest, grateful that she had something covering her—not that this mystery woman seemed to mind that she was almost naked.

  “Someone who has a key.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m guessing you don’t. You were probably on your way out, right?”

  “Excuse me?” Paige spluttered.

  Noah had never mentioned a roommate or anyone else who lived with him. And since there was only one bedroom…surely this woman wasn’t a girlfriend. How long had she been there? She must have heard every little moan and squeak of the bedsprings.

  “Don’t take it personally.” The woman reached toward the pile of belongings that lay scattered on the coffee table. She stuck a cigarette between her lips and flicked at her lighter until a small flame appeared. “Noah’s not exactly the lovey-dovey type, if you know what I mean. So I feel your pain—it’s easier not to get attached.”

  Cold fear clutched at Paige’s chest. What kind of crazy-ass rabbit hole had she fallen down? Maybe this was one of those dreams that was meant to be a metaphor, a representation of her fears.

  “You don’t say much, do you?” The woman laughed, the abrasive sound rubbing like sandpaper along Paige’s nerves. “I guess that’s why he likes you.”

  She leaned back and draped her arms along the back of the couch, the posture a clear staking of territory. Despite being dressed in next to nothing, this woman wasn’t showing an ounce of vulnerability. In fact, there was a heap of clothing at her feet that she could easily have reached for, but instead she chose to eyeball Paige and suck on her cigarette.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on here.” Paige shook her head. “Who are you?”

  “This is Amanda.” Noah’s voice sounded from the bedroom door. He’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt, and he looked pissed as all hell. “My other foster sister.”

  “The other foster sister,” Amanda parroted, using her fingers to form quotation marks. “That’s Noah-speak for ‘the bad sister.’”

  “I’ve never said that.” His eyes narrowed as he stalked over, his expression stony.

  Paige looked between the two of them, trying to figure out the dynamic. He certainly didn’t seem as relaxed as when she’d met his other sisters—something was going on, but neither of them said a word about it.

  Noah laid a hand on her arm. “We’ll catch up later.”

  She folded her arms across her chest because she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, and protecting herself felt like a necessity. He was telling her to leave. “I guess I’ll see you at work, then.”

  After staring at him awkwardly, waiting for him to say something—anything—Paige turned and headed to his bedroom to get changed. It was clear he had family shit to deal with, but she didn’t appreciate being unceremoniously kicked out of his house without so much as an apology, let alone an explanation. Resentment charged through her, but she swallowed it down. He appeared as surprised by their third party as she was.

  So much for the morning-after glow. All that buzzing happiness in her body had been replaced with a sense of dread—but she wasn’t going to let Noah shut her out. No, she was going to “woman up” and tell him how she felt, even if it meant putting herself in the firing line of rejection again.

  …

  Noah’s mind was running a million miles a minute, and his heart thumped like a fist inside his rib cage. But on the outside he was smooth and still as marble. Paige had shot him a confused look before disappearing into the bedroom to get changed and had barely said a word on her way out. Probably better that way—this situation wasn’t one that could be explained in under a minute.

  Really? You could say, “Hey, this is my sister. She’s a drug addict who stole money from me. I don’t want to expose you to that.”

  He really didn’t want to drag Paige into his shit, nor did he want to answer a bunch of questions that she’d no doubt have. He liked Paige a lot, and he was still reeling from waking up and not feeling claustrophobic with her in his bed. Ever since he’d left his last home, waking up to an empty apartment had been a joy. It had been his safe haven. His happy place. Normally he loved the solitude of it, but this morning had felt so…comfortable.

  “You didn’t return my calls,” he said, dropping down into the single sofa chair across from Amanda.

  “I’ve been busy.” She lifted a bony shoulder into a delicate shrug. “Girl’s got things to do, you know.”

  “It’s been two weeks. You promised you’d keep in touch.”

  “Like I said, I’ve been busy.” She shot him a look that warned him off questioning her further. She didn’t want to talk, so what the hell else was new? Not that her glare would stop him from prodding.

  “Where are you staying?” he asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You’re not my dad.”

  “You turned up to my house, unannounced.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I have to ask that question. If you need somewhere to stay—”

  “You mean you’d let me stay here after what happened last time?” Emotion flashed across her face before she resumed her defensive scowl.

  “I would. But I’d sure as shit lock my stuff up.”

  When Megan and Ginnie found out that Amanda had done a runner—and emptied Noah’s wallet and emergency cash tin in the process—they’d been furious. Noah figured it was partially his fault for leaving temptation within grasp of someone who was used to living on the edge of desperation.

  But today Amanda looked…healthy. Gone were the bags under her eyes and, though she was still skinny as a rail, her cheeks held a pale shade of pink. Her hands didn’t shake, either.

  “Yes, I’m clean,” she said. “Or are you looking me over because Little Miss Sunshine didn’t satisfy you last night?”

  “Jesus, Amanda.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Will you drop the act? I’m not the enemy here. Your shock value statements don’t work on me, you know that.”

  She swallowed and the prickly outer layer faded. “It’s been a rough week.”

  She’d been that way ever since he’d met her—tough, abrasive. Hard to love. There were a lot of things in her past that had made her that way, so Noah couldn’t blame her for it. But he’d come to understand that the “softly, softly” approach didn’t do jack shit.

  “Why are you here?” he asked. “Do you need food? I can make y
ou breakfast.”

  She blinked her large, dark eyes at him. “I’m fine.”

  “Then what is it? You won’t pick up the phone for weeks and suddenly you show up in the middle of the night.”

  “You’re only pissy because I interrupted your little date with that girl. By the way, she’s totally wrong for you, in case you hadn’t figured that out.”

  He drew a deep breath. Logically, he knew that Amanda was pushing his buttons because it was one thing that made her feel in control of her life. At least that’s what her therapist had told her once—she lashed out at the people who cared about her because she was subconsciously preparing herself to be abandoned.

  Sound like anyone you know?

  “Oh yeah?” He leaned back in his chair. She wanted to play games? Fine. He’d call her bluff. “Why is that?”

  “She looks like she was grown on an organic farm.” Amanda picked at the chipped black polish on her nails. “Seriously. Did you pluck her from some goddamn farmers’ market or something? She should be selling daisies, not screwing a player like you.”

  He raised a brow in the hopes it would make him appear as though he didn’t care. But his sister’s words were like a slash of glass across his heart, no matter how much he knew her words were more about her than him.

  “You’ll get bored of her, break her heart, and move on to the next available pussy before she’s worked out what the hell happened.” She tapped a finger to her chin. “Isn’t that what happened with that girl Chrissy in tenth grade? Or was that Mandy? Then there was Darla—”

  “All right.” He held up a hand. “Enough.”

  Amanda had a point. But what she didn’t know was that he didn’t cut and run of his own choice in all those examples. The seeds of dissatisfaction had grown early with those girls—they all wanted him to be something he wasn’t: ambitious, an achiever, a romantic. Like Paige. The pressure had been too much. He’d spent his whole life listening to people tell him he wasn’t enough, that he’d never amount to anything. That he was too difficult. A burden.

  “I love you, Noah. But we’re two peas in a pod.” She climbed up from the couch and came around to him, messing up his hair in that rough way of hers. “We’re not built for happy families.”

  “Are you going to tell me what you want?” he asked, ignoring the pain that scored his heart. “Or did you come here to remind me what a shit human being I am?”

  “I need to crash for a few days.” She wrung her hands in front of her. “I, uh…I got a job and an apartment, but I can’t move in for another week.”

  “That’s great.” He turned and grabbed her hand, squeezing it for a second before she slapped him away.

  “And, uh…I think I might go to Ginnie’s going-away thing.” She rocked on her heels, the mask of prickliness slipping to reveal what he knew was underneath—a girl who wanted to be loved. “Thought it was time I saw Bob and Marie.”

  Wow. “Ginnie invited you?”

  “Yeah.” She let out a hollow laugh. “I’m guessing Megan doesn’t know about it since she hates my guts.”

  “She’ll come around.”

  Amanda shrugged. “I was hoping we could go together.”

  Noah stilled. “I’m not going.”

  “Why the hell not? You’ve been telling me to make amends with them.” Amanda jabbed him with her finger. “I’m smelling some hypocritical bullshit here.”

  Okay, so maybe it was a bit hypocritical. But the difference was, they’d believed in Amanda, despite her flaws. Him…not so much.

  “I parted ways with Bob and Marie—you didn’t. It’s different.” He sighed. “They’re not my family anymore.”

  “That’s a load of crap and you know it. If they’re not your family, then neither am I.”

  In Noah’s mind, he’d separated the two—his sisters were in one neat category and his former foster parents were in another. When he’d walked out of that house, it hadn’t been because he wanted to leave the girls behind. But he couldn’t stand the thought of forcing himself to continue living with another set of adults who didn’t believe in him. Who seemed to always be a nanosecond away from casting him aside.

  “It is different,” he gritted out. “I cut ties with them, but not with you or Megs or Ginnie.”

  “They must have done something pretty bad to you,” she said.

  Noah had never told his sisters what’d happened between him and his foster parents. He didn’t want to tarnish any opportunity that they had at a real family—and it certainly wasn’t their fault that he couldn’t get anyone to believe a word he said.

  “Hell, I stole from you and you still let me keep your key.” She raked her hand through her hair. “Speaking of which, I plan to pay you back, you know. Now that I’ve got a job I can give you back the money I took. Maybe not all at once…but I want you to know that I’m turning things around.”

  “Maybe next time don’t turn up without telling me first, okay?” He sighed. Amanda had the ability to wear his energy down to nothing in record time. All this conversation was kicking up a lot of bad memories, and he wasn’t prepared for it. “And don’t give any of my friends a hard time.”

  “I was only trying to warn her,” she said. “She stood in your kitchen looking like the happiest girl in the world while I pretended to be asleep. I know how much it hurts when you leave.”

  Well, shit. “How many times can I say sorry for that?”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him for barely a second before she jumped back away like a frightened rabbit. “If you come to Bob and Marie’s, I swear I’ll never mention it again.”

  “I’m not going.” He swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Blackmail me all you want.”

  “Think about it. Please.”

  He wouldn’t change his mind. Amanda was right—he wasn’t built for happy families. And as much as he hated to admit it, they were two peas in a pod. He simply dealt with his issues differently from her. And that did not include getting involved with someone as wholesome and committed as Paige Thomas.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Noah wasn’t usually prickly, but Amanda’s surprise visit and his night with Paige had gotten him all twisted up. He’d downed his third coffee in less than so many hours, hoping to hell the caffeine would start working its magic at some point. To make matters worse, Amanda’s words were replaying over and over like a stuck record.

  I was just trying to warn her…

  Was he so bad that his own sister felt she had to warn people away from him?

  “Yo, space cadet.” Paul waved a hand in front of his face. “You going to make that coffee or keep staring longingly at the milk jug?”

  Noah shook himself out of it. “Sorry, man. I’m off in la-la land today.”

  “No shit.” Paul squinted at him. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s nothing.” He poured the milk into the frothing jug and stuck the thermometer in. “Late night.”

  “Oh really?” Paul leaned against the counter. “What’s her name?”

  He wasn’t about to spill the beans on his one perfect night with Paige. Nor would he confide in his friend about his sister’s surprise appearance, knowing Paul’s views on Amanda. “Pillow.”

  “Her name’s Pillow? Is she one of those hippie types?” Paul chuckled. “All right, I’ll back off. I can see when you’re not in a kiss-and-tell kind of mood.”

  Noah grumbled under his breath and continued making himself yet another coffee. When he looked up, he saw Paige watching him with a funny expression. Had she overheard Paul’s questions?

  “You’re early,” he said.

  “Yeah.” She climbed onto one of the bar stools. “My roommate and her boyfriend were going at it like wild animals when I got back to her apartment this morning. Not something I need to hear.”

  “Want a coffee?”

  “I want to talk.” She looked at him pointedly. “About this morning.”

  And he wanted to fly off to a
magical land where he could sit in silence all day, ignoring his problems. He sighed. “Give me a minute.”

  He dumped the espresso shot into a paper cup and poured the milk in without his usual finesse. If they were going to have it out, the least he could do was keep his hands occupied so he didn’t get the idea to distract her with all the things he would much prefer to be doing.

  Why couldn’t they go on and enjoy the good bits without all this talking bullshit?

  He fitted a plastic lid to his cup and motioned for her to follow him out to the alley. At least there none of their customers would witness it. He had no idea what Paige thought she was going to get out of him—talking about his feelings wasn’t exactly in his repertoire. And he’d shown her more of his life and his past than anyone else…yet it still wasn’t enough.

  In the early-afternoon sun, she looked like a goddess with her light brown hair hanging in one long braid over her shoulder. Admittedly, right now she looked like a stressed-out goddess, but a goddess nonetheless.

  “So talk,” he said.

  “I want to know what happened,” she replied. She had her hands jammed into the pockets of her jean shorts. “We spend an amazing night together, and then I wake up to find someone half naked on your couch.”

  “She’s my foster sister. I told you that already.” He sipped his drink, fighting the urge to run.

  She had every right to be pissed that he’d booted her out of his apartment; he knew that. But Noah’s fight-or-flight reaction to conflict was most definitely of the “let’s hightail it the fuck outta here” side of things. Especially when it was clear that nothing he could say would change people’s opinions.

  He’d learned that the hard way, over and over again.

  “Didn’t seem very sisterly when she was telling me you were going to cut and run because we’d had sex.” She arched a brow. “Where the hell did that come from?”

  “History.” He shrugged.