Country Kisses (3:AM Kisses #8)

by Addison Moore

  I look back to Holt to address Owen’s other half lives comment. “That’s not what I was going to say.” It wasn’t far off, but I guarantee my words would have been laced with a bit more eloquence.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Holt’s phone bleats for his attention, and he glances to the screen. “You got the job.” He nods before taking off in the back.

  “Dude.” Owen offers up a sock to my arm. I’m pretty sure it was meant to be playful, but he’s built like a fucking Hulk, so it hurts like hell. “Did the future Wolverine of Wall Street just get a j-o-b as a barhop?”

  Cole slaps his towel down between us. “Hey, don’t knock it.”

  Owen lifts his hands in the air a second as if apologizing.

  “For your information, I procured an internship.” I smear a greasy grin his way. “It’s a non-paying position.”

  “I procured an internship.” Owen does his best British impersonation, and now it’s my turn to sock him in the arm. I try to pack a little power behind it, but my knuckles hurt from the effort. This dude is built like a freaking brick wall.

  “How are you treating my kid sister these days?” I take a swig from my glass and groan at how good it feels running down my throat. All of those heated moans I’ve exchanged with Cassidy chase through my mind, and suddenly, I’m dying of thirst again, and it’s nothing that anything in this bar can cure.

  “You mean how’s that kid sister of yours treating me?” He clicks his beer to mine. “She’s wild, and I’m appreciative. Let’s just leave it at that. How about you? Anybody in the lower eastern seaboard getting your attention? Or are you still too busy trying them all on for size?” His brows tweak at the idea. “No judgment.”

  Trying them all on for size. Those were the exact words I said to Owen a few months back when he asked the same question. Owen pointed me in the direction of a few girls last fall, and neither the big trio nor I complained. A dull grin comes and goes because the big trio happens to be Cassidy’s dirty nickname for my boys.

  “I’m still trying them on for size, but I’m taking it back a notch in the bedroom.”

  I’m not sure why I’ve turned this little meet-and-greet into a confessional. Owen and I are friendly, but I wouldn’t exactly call us friends. In truth, I was a bit nicer to the guy before I found out who he’s sleeping with. Owen is essentially a good guy. He’s ratted and tatted from head to toe and worked as a male stripper up until a couple of weeks ago. He landed a job at Wyatt’s new company, and I’m glad he’s out of the “theater” profession. As much as I wanted to see a bright side regarding his steady stream of income, it was a tough pill to swallow, especially when I thought about my little sister involved in anything like that. But, at the end of the day, Owen is decent. He’s a great person, and one day he’ll make a great brother-in-law. He and Piper already have it all.

  “What’s this? Taking it back a notch in the bedroom? Let me guess. A rash got you down?” He doesn’t bother hiding his laughter.

  Cole gets in on it, and I wait until they stop with the high fives, and over all knee slapping on my balls’ behalf.

  “Would you quit? Trust me, there’s no rash. It’s this kind of crap that starts rumors. Totally untrue by the way.” I give a quick glance around. Prior to officially meeting Cassidy, I’d catch glimpses of her at the bar, never at school, so when she said she went to WB I was relieved. I know for a fact three different universities feed into this den of depravation on any given night. Hollow Brook is a college town, so she could have gone anywhere, and I much prefer her at my school. “There is someone, but we’re keeping it low-key. It’s sort of an open relationship at this point.” I grimace into those last few words. I’m not too sure what an open relationship actually entails, but I’m guessing it’s pretty black and white.

  “Open what?” Cole shakes his head. “Get in or get out, and then close that fucking door. Those things never end well if you don’t.”

  “He’s right.” Owen slaps me hard over the back, and before I can respond, a perfumed breeze whisks by, and Piper smacks Owen with a kiss.

  “Two of my favorite guys.” She pulls me into a strong hug, and I dot a kiss to her cheek. I’ve never been shy to give Piper affection. Our parents are pretty great people, but pretty distant as parents. They prefer the occasional visit. As children, we saw them on holidays and extended summer stays when we weren’t at boarding school. My mother calls once a week, which is all great, but Piper has always needed a little more attention, a little extra coddling and love, and I am more than happy to give it.

  “What are you up to?” I tousle her hair, and she growls at me. Messing with Piper is one of my favorite pastimes, a little dangerous, but usually worth the effort.

  “Just heading into town with the girls for dinner.” She looks to Owen and winks. “But I’ll be back for dessert. I’m not interested in getting my sugar fix anywhere else.”

  I lean back, trying to avoid any eye contact in that direction. It’s weird enough knowing that my kid sister has a boyfriend. I don’t want to imagine for a second what she might be doing to get her “sugar fix.”

  “Speaking of dessert”—Owen nods to me—“your brother is seeing someone.”

  “Oh my shit,” Piper gruffs a little too aggressively, and my curiosity is piqued. Not sure she’s ever protested the fact I’m seeing anyone, with the exception of the disaster at Bentley where I had my heart crapped on and handed back to me. “Tell me it’s not her.”

  “It’s not her,” I say into my beer, thanking God that it’s indeed not her. I’m not sure my heart or my head could take another dose of Sammy Spears. There are some catastrophes you’re just thankful to live through, and that happens to be mine. In the end, it was a waking nightmare. I’d never wish that on anyone, especially not on Cassidy.

  Piper tilts into me, narrowing her gaze as if trying to figure out if I’m telling the truth.

  “When was the last time you spoke with what’s-her-face?” She doesn’t relent from her suspicious gaze. Piper hasn’t uttered Sammy’s name since the day she found out the awful truth of what went down.

  “I don’t know. A while ago.” Sammy still sends a quick text now and again. She’s always the first to wish me a Merry Christmas, a happy birthday, but I’ve made it a habit of responding with the briefest of replies—courteous yet curt. She’s got the hint. This train isn’t traveling in that direction anymore. Those tracks derailed long ago.

  “Like yesterday? Last week? Just how is it you define a while ago?” Piper isn’t letting up on her interrogation. I’m not sure who was more traumatized by my last relationship, Piper or me.

  “I really don’t know.” I think on it a minute as Sammy’s quiet smile flashes before me. She had me hooked with that smile in the beginning, but it was the same smile that happily doled out lies in the end. “The last time I ran into her was last summer before we transferred out here. It was brief. I made sure it was.”

  “Good. Keep it that way,” Piper says it slow as if still disbelieving me on some level. “Anyway, I’d better get going. I’d hate to keep my hos waiting. See you in a bit.” She kisses Owen before taking off.

  “Who are these hos she’s hanging out with?” I toss the question to Owen as I knock back half of my beer.

  “Good girls. If I had to guess, Piper is the ringleader. They’re all pretty tame in comparison. Speaking of your sister, her birthday is coming up, first week of March.”

  “I know when my sister’s birthday is. Would you like to fill me in on the date, too?” I smear a grin with the sarcasm. I’m not as good as Piper, but something about Owen demands that I mess with him.

  Owen growls a moment. At least they’ve got that in common. “I’m throwing her a birthday party. A barbeque. I talked to Wyatt, and he wants to host it at the ranch.” He snarls a moment as if that took away from the fact he wanted to throw it for her. And something in that one act of birthday chivalry makes me like the guy just a little bit more.

  “
Cool. It falls on a Saturday this year, so it’ll be perfect.”

  “I’d love to invite your parents. I mean, I know it’s a big trip, but I’d love to meet them. I’m sure Piper would love to have them over.”

  “Done. I’ll put in the call. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind flying out for the weekend.” It’s true. My parents, Wyatt Senior and Angelica, can be anywhere and everywhere as fast as their private jet can whisk them away. “You going big or keeping it tight?”

  “Just her friends and a few of my buddies. But we should hang out sometime before that.” Something in Owen softens. Owen and I have hung out before. In fact, we were better friends when I didn’t know he was screwing my sister. I guess that’s the great ironic divide, Piper.

  “I’d like that.”

  “Cool. Most weekends we’re playing pool in the back. My buddy, Jet, gives the best tats this side of Tijuana.”

  I grimace because I’m not sure that says much, and I’ve seen Piper’s meager tattoo, although the artwork scrolled over Owen’s body looks decent.

  “Rex is my other buddy,” he continues. “He’s boarding school born and bred much like yourself,” he says it as if it’s a selling point, and, to be honest, I like Rex already. I know what it’s like to be dragged off from your family, given a new one in the scholastic sense, and then living that way until you’re vomited out into the world upon graduation. “We’ll get together. There’s something I need to pick up at the office. I forgot a file your brother has me working on. You can head over with me if you want to kill time.”

  “No, that’s okay. I think I’ll hop back to campus. There’s something at the bookstore I’m looking for.”

  “Or someone.” He gives a quick wink before slapping my shoulder and taking off.

  He’s right. It’s definitely someone.

  Cassidy Clayton is like a ghost around here when she’s not in class. Maybe next time she lands in my bed, I’ll beg her to tell me all of her secrets.

  Whitney Briggs University is a hotbed of beautiful girls. It’s not a huge shock someone as perfect as Cassidy should be in attendance. A dull laugh rattles through me at the thought of her. She is in everyway perfection, both outside and underneath the sheets. I can’t stop thinking about the girl, and it’s bordering on obsessive. I’m not stalking through campus tonight looking for some book. Owen was right. It’s Cassidy I’m scouring the four corners of the world for.

  Crowds of girls travel in every direction, and I make it a point to scour every blonde in an effort to weed her out. I’ll admit, it’s leading to a few awkward glances, some subtle invites, and a few bold girls blowing kisses my way. It’s all in fun. Every single one of these girls is headed off-campus looking for a good time tonight—not that it has to be sexual. Heck, I’m hoping for a good time myself, but, for me, it most certainly has to be sexual—only if it includes Miss Clayton. She volunteered as my bed warmer, and I’m hoping she feels the need for heat as much as I do.

  After an hour of aimless wandering, feeling a bit like a self-proclaimed stalker, I head over to the bookstore. In the least I won’t have been a liar. Hell, maybe I’ll go for the gold and buy a freaking book. The brightly lit establishment is covered with plastic hearts as an ode to that over-glorified greeting card manufactured holiday tomorrow brings—Valentine’s Day. I’ve already purchased two dozen long-stemmed roses and have them at the house. If she shows up tonight, I’ll give them to her then. I’m sort of hoping for that scenario because not a single part of me wants to wait another day to see her.

  A dark-haired girl heads toward the door just as I’m reaching for the handle, so I swing it open for her and hold it as she plows on by.

  “Thank you,” she says, briefly glancing up, and the two of us freeze in tandem.

  Shit.

  My gut pinches, and instantly, I want to hit rewind, play back the last ten seconds so I can make a clean escape.

  “What are you doing here?” It’s the first thing out of my mouth. It came out nice enough, not sure why it wouldn’t, but a darker part of my heart wanted to spit the words with venom.

  Her entire body relaxes with a sigh as if somehow the message I sent gave her the all-clear. “Nice to see you, too.” Her country twang comes in clear, and my gut twists because she hasn’t had it that thick in years. A part of me doesn’t want to hear it coming from her. It’s something sacred I only ever want to hear from Cassidy. She shakes out her dark curls, her tiny frame shifts from side to side a moment. “Hey, you want to grab some coffee? It’s a funny story—really.”

  Sammy Spears is someone I’ve been trying to avoid for the last three years. She and I were pretty serious for our last year at the Bentley Academy—but finding her in bed with my roommate, Dave, was the knife that severed any bond we once shared. For so long, I held anger, resentment, nursed my wounds without letting them close because I needed to feel the sick hatred toward that dark time in my life, but now, in this moment, with some time separating me from the bitter heartbreak—seeing Sammy in person, the past suddenly feels very much distant and buried. I credit Cassidy with that. I’m no longer obsessed with the fact someone dared step out on me and my overblown ego because I’m very much content where I’ve landed—especially with the person that landed in bed beside me, and I’ve never been more thrilled that it’s not Sammy.

  “Coffee?” I do a quick scan of the vicinity. As much as my resentment toward Sammy just floated away like a helium balloon, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to incite Cassidy with caffeine and get her thinking that I’ve found my unicorn to quell those nightly visits.

  “It’ll be quick.” She shrugs while her eyes do their best to beg for this to happen. “I have to be somewhere later.”

  “I guess one cup won’t hurt.”

  Sammy is quick to usher us over to Hallowed Grounds, and my stomach churns as we get our coffee, and she leads us toward the back to the very seats Cassidy and I stationed ourselves at a few weeks back.

  “So tell me everything.” I settle across from her with my seat pulled out a good foot from the table, my body turned toward the exit in the event I spot the girl I was really looking for. Not that I would bolt, but I would definitely make it a point to say hello and casually mention there isn’t a unicorn in sight. “How did you manage to land at Briggs?” I’m afraid I know. The rest is simply a formality, but I’ll let her try to claw her way out of this paper bag. I guess overall I’m glad I bumped into her today, and for the love of God not tomorrow. I wouldn’t want her to get caught up on fate and serendipity and somehow contribute our impromptu meeting to a day enwreathed in hearts and roses.

  “I’m here because of you.” Sammy leans in with those tired, determined eyes, holding a hand out, but I won’t take it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so forward. I get it. You’ve moved on—literally. And as much as I hate to admit it, I was starting to lose my mind a little knowing that I might not see you again.” She shakes her head and blinks back tears.

  “Please don’t—”

  “I swear”—she holds up a hand—“I said I wasn’t going to do this.” Her accent comes out thick as syrup. The more years she spent at Bentley, the more it deluded itself. But Sammy always knew it was her greatest tool of manipulation with me. With Cassidy, it’s so natural, relaxing to listen to, and with Sammy, my stomach tenses up in knots.

  “Then don’t do this.” I soften a bit as I lean forward. “I get it. You said you were sorry. I accepted your apology.”

  “But”—she swallows hard—“I’m still paying the price.” She blows a breath through her lips as if working through her pain, trying to control the tears that are already flowing. “Um, I said I’d give it one semester.” She waves around at the café in a tragic show of desperation. “I’m here until May. If this thing doesn’t work out between us, I think it’ll be best if I go. But, Cade—I had to know. I had to know that I gave it everything. I just want what we had back so bad.” Tears spill down her cheeks, melting pale tracks in th
eir wake, and she’s quick to mop them up with a napkin. “I’m still in love with you, Cade. I’m not sure any time or distance will ever change that fact.”

  Shit. Sammy has always had a happy disposition, but after we broke up, after I basically told her I didn’t want anything to do with her or Dave ever again, she’s been a walking wall of sorrow.

  “I’m sorry your heart is breaking.” Those words give me great pause, because for one, she was the one who spoke them to me not long after the incident. “I don’t want to bring you any pain, Sam. That’s not who I am.” A lump gets caught in my throat the size of one of Dave Barnes’s size twelve sneakers. “But I think at this point we’re better off as friends.” There’s no way I can see me going back there. A part of me wonders if I would have had the fortitude to resist stepping back in time if Cassidy hadn’t shown up. I’d like to think I would’ve.

  “Are you seeing someone?” Her eyes spin like pinwheels at the prospect. You can see the panic meter rise clear into her wrinkled-with-worry forehead. “I mean, of course, you are. You’re Cade James, bachelor extraordinaire. Who in their right mind wouldn’t want to be with you?” She gives a wild shake of the head as if bewildered by her own behavior. “You know, when I think about us—sometimes I pretend it never happened, and then I fill in the blanks at what our lives would be like now. You and I would be engaged, of course.”

  We share a short-lived laugh over the idea as if that sobering fact were funny at all. Most likely she’s right, and a painful part of me knows this. I’m beginning to think Dave and Sammy’s impromptu hookup—at least that’s how they sold it in the beginning—was a blessing in disguise. Her initial story was, one minute they were looking at a textbook and the next she was holding his dick. Of course, I simply saw that last part—or more to the point, I didn’t see that last part because technically he had his junk buried up inside her. As it unfolded, I eventually found out it had been a steady thing over the last few months of our relationship.