by Lyssa Layne
I knew I’d never be able to hide this from them. It’s not like I’m trying to. It’s just that I’m not entirely sure what this is yet. Am I really off my game because of some twenty-five-year-old kid? Because he is. A fucking kid. At twenty-five he’s right there in the middle of all the shit you have to figure out before you even come close to knowing who you’re supposed to be. I remember. And just because he’s clearly been shedding his more boyish features and does seem to exude an alarming amount of testosterone, it’s hardly enough reason for me to be panting like a cougar in heat.
Goddammit. Now I’m grinning because I used his stupid expression. Like we’re bonded or something.
And I’m twelve.
Grand.
The kid is turning me into a prepubescent child as well.
“Holy shit, she’s blushing!”
Fucking Mouth.
“Don’t you have fucking work to do outside of torturing me?”
She shrugs. “Waiting on Sketch to finish up the outline. We’re tag-teaming this dude’s chest piece. Massive cock fight. Ha ha. That’s, like, our theme today.” She raises her eyebrows dramatically, her lips hitched up in a wicked grin. “Cock.”
I can hear Princess giggle five feet over but I ignore her. I ignore them all.
One. Two. I just need to zone in on the hum. Three. Lucas. FUCK.
It’s after ten when our last client leaves and it’s just us girls left at the shop. I can hear Cherry and Princess laughing in the back, and I’m pretty sure they’re busy changing into something slinky while making plans for all the boys they plan to seduce tonight. Well, Princess anyway. Cherry’s not quite up to seduction. She’s still hovering in tease.
“You two about done?” Mouth and Sketch are still in the middle of cleaning up after their joint gig. They must have spent two hours on it and they’re not even close to being finished.
“Just about.” Sketch ties up the trash bag and lifts it out of the can, preparing to take it out back. “Don’t go anywhere. We need to talk.”
I hadn’t planned on leaving, but now I’m tempted to make a run for it. Sketch and I have been in this together the longest. Interned at the same shop almost seventeen years ago. She’s seen me through more shit than any other person on this earth, and she knows me inside out.
“Oh, I’m sticking around for this chat.” Mouth finishes stocking the last of the supplies and comes to lean up against the counter beside me. “Seriously, though. You okay?”
I nod. Then shake my head. Then nod again.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite get that.” She grins and finally I laugh.
“You guys are going to think I’m so fucking dumb when I say it out loud.”
Sketch walks back into the room just in time to hear me. “If it makes you feel any better, we frequently think you’re really fucking dumb even when you say nothing at all.”
I tilt my head sideways and glare at her. “Charming.”
“Do we need to sit down for this?” Mouth starts to clap excitedly. “Oh, do we need snacks?”
“No!” I throw my hands up as if that could stop the madness. “It’s not even that big of a deal. You’re all blowing this way out of proportion.”
“Then just spit it out already.” Sketch has both hands propped on her hips and I know stall time is over.
“Fine. Lucas is back.”
Mouth contorts her face in confusion. “Who?”
“Lucas. As in Pru’s son, Lucas.” I run both hands through my hair as if pulling my curls back will somehow help me retrieve all the words about to fall out of my mouth. “It’s like he’s this bizarre contradiction of man and child. Like, in my brain, I’ve always labeled him as ‘kid’. I’m friends with his mom. His sisters hang with my kid. Hence, he was lumped into the kid category. I like him there. Then I saw him again and I remembered he is not a kid. He’s not built like one, he doesn’t have a face like one, and he definitely, doesn’t walk like one.” This seemed important in my mind. His walk. Nay, his swagger. He has grown ass man swagger. Not the cocky kind boys try to fake…the real kind. The confident kind.
“Are you saying you have a thing for Pru’s son? Like, a for real thing this time?” If Sketch raises her brow any further it’ll disappear in her hairline.
“No. I’m definitely not saying that. I’m saying…I don’t know what I’m saying.” I shake my head. “No, wait. Yes, I do. I’m saying, he makes me uncomfortable. Like, he’s making me think too much about how I need to act around him because I’m scared I’ll do something or say something completely inappropriate. Not because I want to jump his bones, but because I would treat him the same way I treat any one of the guys that comes in here. Only I can’t do that, because he’s Pru’s kid. Thus, I should treat him as such.”
Mouth shakes her head as if it hurts. “You’re not making any sense, and that’s bad. I can usually follow your rambling bullshit no problem, but this…I’m lost.”
“It’s the avocado predicament.” Sketch states plainly, as if that explained it all, except her explanation is going to require some explaining.
“Care to elaborate on that?”
She rolls her eyes like we’re idiots. “You ever go to the store to pick up some avocados because you’re jonesing for some fresh guac? Then you get there and find the avocado bin and you get all excited because they’re that dark, almost black color and you get all happy with anticipation because you just know you’re going to pick them up and they’re going to be perfectly ripe when you touch them? Only then you do and that motherfucker is hard as a rock? And now you’re fucked because you still want guac but your perfect looking avocados aren’t ready yet, even though at first glance, you thought they were. The outside is ripe looking…the inside is not.”
I feel like I should stop her before she hurts herself. Or I hurt her. This is the stupidest analogy I’ve ever heard. “So, if I understand correctly, you’re comparing my sex drive to a guacamole craving and you’re saying that Lucas was just the first guy I found in the avocado bin and I got excited at the site of his ripe body, and then discovered he’d never be able to provide the guacamole I’m after. But now, I’m conflicted because I still want the guac…and he looked so tasty?”
She nods. “Yeah. Like I said. The avocado predicament.”
“Well, thanks. I don’t think that helped me with my problem at all, and, now I’m craving Mexican.”
Mouth’s face lights up with mischief. “There’s always Carlos.” The guy who runs the twenty-four-hour tow truck service on the corner.
“You’re a dumbass. I meant Mexican food. Not a Mexican.”
“I’m saying. We all know Carlos is ripe and ready.” She wiggles her eyebrows and I start to laugh in spite of myself.
“Thanks, but I’m still sticking to food. I’m staying on the man-free diet I’ve been on. It’s healthier for me.” And far less distracting, which is what I need. At least until Marcus disappears again.
Lucas
I’ve only been back for twelve days and I’m already bored out of my fucking mind. I know my mom wants nothing more than for me to just fall into step beside my dad and head off to the office where I can take my rightful spot in the family business, but I’m just not there yet. I’m not sure I ever will be.
“Wanna go see a movie?”
Hailey looks up at me from her bed where she’s been lying for the last three hours, buried in some romance novel or another. The girl’s been a booknerd since she was four. I’m pretty sure she’s the smartest one of us all, even if she does like to hide her brains behind bare chested men, ripped with muscles and covered in tattoos.
“Do you care if I read on the way? I’ve got like fifty pages left and there’s no way I’m putting this book down before I’m done.”
I screw my mouth up, slightly disgusted at the thought. “Depends. Are you going to be reading about people doing it while you’re sitting right next to me?”
She shrugs. “Probably. They’ve been doing
it since the first page. I don’t imagine they’re about to stop now when they’re about to admit they really do love each other.” Her eyes keep traveling back and forth over the rim of the book, moving from the page to me, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to lose this one if I make her choose. “So, that’s a no then?”
I groan loudly. I just want to get out of this fucking house with another human being who isn’t me or my mother. “Fuck. Fine. But if you start moaning or licking your lips excessively, I’m throwing the book from the truck.”
“Have you ever actually read a book, Lucas? Generally speaking, it’s a very internal experience. And I can assure you, I have read many a hot scene sitting right next to you, Ash and even Mom and Dad, and I have never so much as blushed or given any indication of the smut I was exposing myself to right under everyone’s nose.” She smirks and I realize for the first time, she’s not at all like the little girl I remember from before I left. Not that thirteen was all that little, but it sure as shit seems like it right about now.
“Who are you?” I shake my head in disgust and pull the door shut behind her as she comes out to join me in the hall. “What happened to baby Hayes? The cute one. The one who reads books about horses.”
“She found a book with cowboys in it and moved on.”
We’ve barely made it two steps when Ash and Madi pop their heads out of the next room. “Where are there cowboys?”
“Done swooning over Andrew and his lawnmower, are we?” I swear, I spent months shacked up in barracks with men who hadn’t gotten laid in ages and were still less obsessed with sex than these girls. It’s kind of terrifying actually.
“Psh, that was days ago. Besides, he has a girlfriend anyway,” Ashlynn informs me.
“Oh, because otherwise, the twenty-one-year-old grandson from next door was a viable option for you?” Never mind that the shit’s illegal, at sixteen she should be dating boys who want to hold her hand, not screw her brains out in the back of their cars. So, basically I think she should go out with ten-year-olds. Which I realize is ridiculous as well.
“You know what?” I yank the book from Hailey’s hand and press it to Ashlynn’s chest until she takes it. “Read that. Fictional men are probably your best bet right now, at least until I move out and this becomes Mom and Dad’s problem again.”
“Ooh, is this where I find the cowboys?” Ash starts to open the book when Hailey snatches it back again.
“No, firefighters. And you can have it when I’m done.” She scowls at me. Finally, a face I recognize.
“Meanwhile, Hailey and I are going to the movies. You girls wanna go?” A carefree, sexless, no brain required comedy would probably do us all some good.
“I’m in. Just let me text my aunt and let her know.” Madi zips back into Ashlynn’s room to get her phone and then all three girls and I are headed for the door.
“Liv says it’s cool. Just let her know when we get back and she’ll come get me.” Her fingers are zooming across the screen to text her back even as she says this.
“Tell her, no worries. I’ll just drop you off at home after.” I don’t know why I just offered that, except I’ve spent every day wondering when I’ll wander into my mom’s kitchen again and find Liv sitting in it. Supposedly, it’s a regular occurrence around here, and yet, I haven’t seen her again since that first time. That was ten days ago.
Turns out the movie wasn’t such a bright idea after all. Trapped in the dark like a sitting duck isn’t nearly as relaxing as it was before I knew what it was like to live in a war zone, anticipating the next attack around every corner, every second of the goddamned day.
The girls seemed to enjoy it though, and I’m trying my best to match their laughter, even now that we’re back in the truck and headed home. I have no idea what the movie was about because my mind was racing non-stop the entire time, making it impossible to retain any information about the storyline. So while the girls are recounting their favorite parts, I’m bullshitting my way through the conversation as best I can, hoping they won’t notice. Last thing I need is for one of them to mention something to my mom. She’s already up my ass about going to therapy, convinced I’m suffering from PTSD because she read one too many blog posts and articles while I was gone.
I’d go if I had PTSD. I don’t. I know this because I’ve been evaluated more than once in the last few years. Besides, it’s not like I walked straight out of a war and into my mother’s house. Sure, I was deployed twice while I was in the army, but I spent the last year stationed in Germany. Not a whole lot of battlefields to cross there.
Still, some things stay with you. Change you. Maybe for a while, maybe forever, I don’t know yet. It hasn’t been long enough to tell.
“Hey, can we grab a bite on the way home? I’m starving,” Hailey requests, rolling down the window and letting the wind catch her long hair.
“It’s late. Liv is probably waiting for Madi to get home.” It’s not that late, I just don’t want it to get any later. You don’t get invited inside when it’s too late, and I intend to get invited in tonight.
I can see Madi shrug in the rearview mirror. “I doubt it. She’s probably not even home yet.”
“What, she have a date tonight or something?” Like it’s any of my fucking business.
Madi laughs. “Yeah, her and Sketch had a super romantic night planned tattooing the same damn tribal heart on like fifteen sorority sisters who all wanted a matching tramp stamp.”
“Oh.” So, maybe tonight’s not the night I’m staging a run- in either. Dammit.
It’s not until I completely digest what Madi’s saying that I realize I’ve been gripping the steering wheel with an unusual amount of force. I shake out my right hand to release the tension. I was jealous. Insanely jealous. This could be a problem.
Especially if Hailey keeps eyeing me like that.
“Oh my God! Is Liv the babe you were going on and on about when you were on the phone with Memphis last night?” Apparently, just because her eyes are on the page of some trashy book it doesn’t mean Hailey’s ears aren’t fully capable of listening in on my conversations.
“No!”
She laughs. “Yeah. Yeah, she is.”
I can hear Ash snickering behind me. I’m about to apologize to Madi when I find out I have no reason to.
“It’s cool. We all know my aunt’s a hottie.”
“True that.” Hailey nods with such enthusiasm, I briefly wonder if she’s going to be my competition. “Too bad you don’t stand a chance with her.” Now I’m thinking she’s got the same idea about me.
“What the hell would you know about it?”
“Oh, it’s nothing personal,” Madi explains, and I start to worry Liv really is a lesbian, although, five years ago, that’s definitely not the impression I got from her. “She just doesn’t date.”
That I can work with.
“Ever?”
“Well, at least not in the five years since she came back to take care of me.” She plops back into the seat thoughtfully. “Huh. Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re kind of the last guy I’ve seen her with…in like, forever.”
Ash grips the back of my seat to pull herself up and meet my gaze in the mirror. “Yeah. What was up with you guys back then, anyway?”
I frown. “Nothing. Nothing was up with us. Mateo had just died. I was only being a good friend.”
“A good friend? When were you and Liv ever friends?” Hailey is enjoying taunting me about this. Apparently, the five years between us don’t give me any sort of advantage anymore now that we’re both adults.
“Whatever. I’ve known her for years. We all have. Of course I was going to be there for her when her father died. We all were.” It was a shitty week, and Liv, she was a mess. A freaking zombie one minute and a frazzled, rambling shell of herself feeling nothing beyond the surface stuff the next, until that last night when she broke down in my arms. I stayed with her all night, but my sisters and Madi don’t know anything about that
.
“That’s fine. You can deny it all you like. We all know you have a little crush on her.” Hailey indulges in a self-satisfied giggle while the two girls in the back whisper to themselves at high speeds. God I miss being in the army.
CHAPTER THREE
Heartbreaker
“Is that what you’re wearing to the barbecue?” Madi’s giving me a scrutinizing glare from the doorway.
“You have a problem with my outfit?” I step out in front of the mirror for the tenth time. It’s fine. The outfit is fine.
“I don’t have a problem with the outfit. I do have problem with you wearing it to a pool party.” She marches straight to my side and begins to tug at the material draped around my body. “Who wears layers to a Fourth of July barbecue?”
“Uh, women who are covered in ink and don’t want to make their very conservative friends uncomfortable.” I yank my arm away, moving my flowy long sleeves out of her grasp.
“Aunt Pru knows you have tattoos,” Madi counters.
“Obviously. But you and I both know how she and Rob feel about them. And today’s party is going to have a guest list consisting mostly of his friends and work associates, so, I don’t care if I have to sweat my balls off, this is what I’m wearing.”
Madi scrunches up her face. “Balls, Aunt Liv?”
I reach up and grab a boob with each hand. “Yeah. I’ve got balls. I just keep them higher up than most.”
“You’re a freaking weirdo.” She shakes her head and walks away.
“Hey! What did I say about talking to me like that?” I shout after her.
“Fine. You’re a fucking weirdo,” she calls back.
“That’s better.” I have a sick aversion to people who won’t use the actual curse words. I’m saying, if you mean ‘fucking’ don’t pussyfoot around it or try to make it more socially acceptable by saying ‘freaking’. I’m probably not winning an aunt of the year award for that one, but then, I wasn’t in the running for one anyway.