Beneath the Stands: An Enemies to Lovers, Best Friend's Brother Romance (Sugarlake Series, Book Two)

by Emily McIntire

“I want to be with him, Becca. He just… he drives me insane.”

  “So be with him, Jer.” I cradle the phone between my shoulder and head, grabbing my popcorn from the microwave.

  Jeremy is the only person I still talk to from Florida, but even with him, our conversations are far and few between. Over the years, both of our lives have pulled us down different paths—his in the direction of his dreams, and mine into the swirling vortex of everything I said I never wanted to be. Maybe Sabrina—someone I do not speak with—was right after all and you do think things into existence.

  Either way, I’d be devastated to lose the little moments I’m able to grab, so even though they aren’t frequent, I never miss our calls.

  “I can’t just be with him. I’ve worked so hard to get where I am. I can’t risk that. I just wish he’d understand, it’s not because I don’t have feelings for him, it’s just the way it has to be.”

  “Hmm.” I pop some kernels in my mouth, chewing slowly while I think of the right thing to say.

  Years later, and Jer still isn’t out. I don’t blame him, especially now with him being plastered on billboards, and companies begging for his face on their brand. People can pretend all they want that the world has progressed, but take a closer look and everyone is still busy hiding their truths in the shadows and pushing their lies in the light.

  Funny how no matter where you go, big cities or small towns, people are the same at the core.

  And people don’t want their celebrity athletes to like other men. It doesn’t fit the mold.

  “I’m gonna tell you what you told me once, Jer, and I want you to listen close. Are you ready?”

  “Hit me with it, sweet cheeks.”

  “If you can’t love that man with all your heart, you need to let him go.”

  “Yeah.” He sniffles.

  “Don’t be his disease, Jer.”

  He hums deep in his throat. “Damn, that’s a good line. I said that?”

  “You know you did.” I laugh. “And you were right. Lovin’ someone fully doesn’t mean you aren’t afraid. It just means you do it anyway, even with the fear, because they deserve all your pieces.” I swallow, dropping the buttery popcorn from my hands, my appetite suddenly disappearing. “So if you can’t give him every piece of you, then love him enough to let him go so he can find someone who will.”

  It’s strange, switching places with Jeremy. Being the one who gives the advice instead of the one who needs to take it. I guess reflection makes you see your mistakes in a different light.

  And maybe that’s the difference between success and failure—whether you acknowledge your mistakes and learn from them, or choose to bury yourself in the debris of their destruction.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He heaves a deep breath down the line. “Shit, I don’t wanna talk about me anymore, it’s depressing. Tell me why I was gearing up for you to come out here but I still don’t see that sweet ass anywhere in Cali?”

  I sigh. “Runnin’ away ain’t gonna solve my issues, Jer.”

  He chuckles. “Finally you admit it.”

  “Honestly, I’m surprised you weren’t the one to say it.”

  “Becca, I learned a long time ago that telling you something and having you really hear it are two totally different things. If you want to run away from your problems, there’s nothing I can say to make you stop. There never has been… Plus, maybe I was willing to be a little bit selfish this time, wanting to have you close again.”

  My chest twinges when I think about how long it’s been since we’ve seen each other. “I’ll still come out and visit sometime. Just after I’m done tryin’ to turn over a new leaf and all that.” I hesitate, before spouting out the thing I’ve been dying to get off my chest. “I got this number from Lee’s man. This… therapist guy. Apparently, he’s the best.”

  “A therapist? Jesus, Becca. I never thought I’d see the day.”

  I cringe, throwing another kernel of popcorn in my mouth. “Yeah, well… I figure if he can fix Chase, he can do somethin’ with lil’ ol’ me. He’s in Nashville, though, so I don’t know if it’s gonna work out.”

  “Don’t you hate him?”

  “Who, Chase?” I stop mid-chew, thinking about what my feelings actually are toward Chase these days. “Hate’s a strong word. I don’t necessarily trust him. That’s probably more ‘cause of me than him, though.” I purse my lips.

  I’ve always believed that if you give a man long enough, they’ll live to let you down. Watching Chase with Lee over the years only cemented my belief that he was just like Papa. But I don’t think that’s the truth. I think Chase has a good soul, he’s just been lost on how to show it.

  I’m not sure Papa even has one, or if he does, he sold it for his sins a long time ago.

  “Are you gonna set up an appointment?” Jeremy asks.

  Honestly, I don’t want to. I’m scared that if I start to dig up my issues, I’ll end up ripping them out and nothing will be left.

  Who am I if I’m not who raised me?

  But I know I can’t keep living this way. Not if I want to be healthy. Happy. Free of these demons that keep me chained to my folks and living in purgatory, blaming my decisions on other people with no way of knowing how to stop.

  So yeah, I’ll call him.

  But it’s the next morning before I actually get the nerve.

  It’s freeing not being at church on a Sunday. Still, there’s an anxiety that trickles through my veins, making me feel like God may smite me down for missing service as much as I have.

  I haven’t been back since the revelation with my momma, but neither of my folks has so much as picked up the phone since. I expect they will soon. Small-town folk love to talk, and my absence won’t go unnoticed for much longer.

  I find it hard to care.

  There’s a cup of coffee growing cold in front of me while I sit at my dining table. My phone is in my hand, thumb poised over the green button as I stare at the ugly owl Lee bought me as a gag gift. I put it on the top shelf of my kitchen cabinet, swearing I would cherish it forever. But now, I can feel its wooden, buggy eyes staring at me. Judging me for not being able to make a damn phone call.

  With a deep breath, I press call. It only rings twice before a voice comes over the line. “This is Dr. Andalor.”

  “Hi. Is this… is this Doc? I was given this number from a friend and I’d like to make an appointment, I think?” I squeeze my eyes shut. Stupid.

  “I believe I may be the Doc you’re looking for. May I know who I’m speaking with?”

  “Of course, yeah… I’m sorry, I’m Becca Sanger. Chase Adams gave me your number, said you helped him an awful lot and that I should call you if I needed someone to talk to.”

  He chuckles. “I assumed your friend was Chase. I’d love to talk, Becca. Let me just pull up my availability.”

  I’m not one-hundred percent confident that I’ll see this through. It’s embarrassing, admitting the things that I’ve let affect my decisions. The ways I’ve fallen for my family’s lies and let them lead me around on a leash. It’s shameful admitting out loud that I’m twenty-six years old and have never lived an independent day in my entire life.

  “My earliest time is this Tuesday at two. Does that work for you?”

  Panic seizes my throat when I think about having to talk to him face to face. “You know, I don’t—I’m not sure when I’m free to drive to Nashville. Maybe I should figure that out first and call you back.”

  “Oh? Would a phone session work better for you?”

  “A what?” I scrunch my nose.

  “A phone session. I’ll call at our dedicated time and we can talk, just like this.”

  “Oh, you can do that?”

  “I can. There’s no pressure either way, Becca. I’m here for you, not the other way around.”

  I nod even though he can’t see.

  I like that he can’t see. It’s knowing that I won’t have to look him in the eyes as I spew all my
secrets that has me agreeing to a Tuesday meeting.

  Hanging up the phone, I blow out a relieved breath.

  Then I’m back to staring at that ugly owl. Only this time, the eyes don’t bother me quite as much.

  “So you called him?” Lee asks, sitting across from me on the couch, her hand on Chase’s knee.

  I nod, sipping from my water. “Yep.”

  Chase sits up straighter. “Good. Doc’s fucking great.”

  “Well, if he can help with your shit, he should be able to handle a tortured preacher’s daughter, no problem.” I smile big and wide.

  “Yeah, speakin’ of your daddy,” Lee says. “I saw them at the store the other day and they stopped me to ask about you.” She cocks her head. “I didn’t know you weren’t speakin’.”

  I sigh, my gut rolling at the audacity of them to ask about me when they won’t even pick up the phone. It’s not like Sugarlake is a big town, if they wanted to find me, they know where I live.

  The doorbell rings, interrupting our conversation, and Chase hops up, disappearing down the hall.

  “Expectin’ someone?” I ask Lee.

  She grimaces. “Yeah, I didn’t know how to tell you he was comin’.”

  My stomach jumps. “Who is he?”

  “Eli.”

  The blood in my veins surge, rushing to my cheeks, my breath whooshing out of me. I’m surprised at the fact she would invite both of us to dinner. I’m also surprised she invited him at all. Last I knew, they weren’t on good terms, and it makes sadness weigh down my heart when I realize she hasn’t felt like she could share with me. Or maybe she just hasn’t wanted to. I wonder when we’ll get back to the way we used to be, before I ruined her trust.

  She says things are okay, but I know just because you forgive doesn’t mean you can forget. Even severed limbs ache with phantom pains.

  I haven’t seen Eli since he fucked me against the bleachers, and that was almost two weeks ago, so when his laughter floats into the room it sends heat swimming through my insides, my nerves dancing off the waves.

  Chase walks through the door first but my eyes go straight to the man behind him.

  When Eli’s gaze finds mine, it wraps around my body and tugs, pulling me up off the couch before I know how to stop myself.

  Lee says something, but her voice is muddled, every ounce of me focused on Eli and the way he commands my attention just by existing.

  I stop when I’m right in front of him, close enough to reach out and touch, his energy snapping at my skin. “Hi.”

  “Rebecca.” His voice is deep and husky, my full name off his lips making my entire body vibrate with the need to hear it again. “I didn’t know you would be here,” he continues.

  “Ditto. Hope it’s okay I am.”

  “It’s more than okay.”

  “Good.” My face stretches into a wide grin, my stare never leaving his.

  The left side of his mouth pulls up, his eyes sparking. “Good.”

  Butterflies erupt in my stomach, making me giddy at the prospect of spending the evening around him. A chance for us to just be without all of the angst of our past.

  So when Lee slips her arm around my shoulder and winks, saying it’s time to sit down and eat, I follow them in, staring at Eli’s back and letting hope for the future fill me up.

  I damn sure like the way it feels.

  55

  Eli

  There was a moment at Ma’s grave where the world grew quiet. Nothing but Lee’s tears soaking my shirt, and mine falling silently on her hair, the air heavy with all the ways we’ve never allowed each other to just be there, the way we should have been all along.

  Both of us have been too stuck in our pride, expecting the other to give instead of take, not realizing that life is a balancing act.

  Sitting in front of Ma’s headstone with nothing but the whisper of the wind and our overdue confessions, Lee opened up about Lily and her fear of failing Pops. I told her how I used Sarah to numb the pain of Becca leaving, and to try and appease Ma’s memory so the nightmares would stop.

  It’s hard being vulnerable, purging your deepest truths and laying them down to be judged. But it’s also purifying to no longer hold it alone. And maybe if I had given Lee the support when she needed, she would have been more invested in supporting me. Maybe I wouldn’t have felt the need to lock everything away—hide the burden of my missteps where no one could see them in the light.

  But you can’t grow in the dark. You’ll shrivel and wilt until you’re nothing but dried up remnants scattered along the ground.

  Lee inviting me to dinner is just another step to our healing. I didn’t expect Becca to be here, looking the way she does and making my heart scream with reminders of what we used to be. What we could be again, if only I’d let her in.

  I realize it isn’t fair to say one thing and mean another. And I wish, so damn bad, that I could dive inside her brain and learn all the reasons why she left. How she could say she loved me, but break me so easily. Maybe then I could reconcile the Becca from my past with the woman she is now and we could find some way to move forward.

  “So.” I set down my napkin, looking toward Lee. “Next week is the first family day at Stepping Stones.”

  Lee’s fork pauses halfway to her mouth. “Mmhm. Mark mentioned it on the phone.”

  I nod, leaning back in my chair. “You wanna drive up there together?”

  She sighs, dropping her fork to her plate. “I don’t know, Eli. I guess I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean, does Daddy even want me there?”

  “I’m sorry, what exactly is family day?” Becca interrupts.

  My eyes slide to her, surprise flowing through me that she doesn’t already know. I guess I assumed Lee would have talked to her about it by now. “It’s a day visit to the rehabilitation center. They have a group session for family members, and we have one-on-ones with Pops.”

  I’m nervous about what I’ll find when I get there. Afraid that Pops will be even more pissed off at the world now that he doesn’t have the drink to numb his senses. I don’t really know what to expect, other than what Mark has told us. Not sure Pops will even want to see us.

  Chase nods. “That’s great. You gonna go?” he asks Lee.

  Lee looks over to him. “I was gonna tell you, I just hadn’t had the chance yet. I only found out today.”

  He smiles, leaning in and kissing her lips. Something yanks at my chest as I watch them love each other so completely. So openly. Envy lurks through me, knowing Lee was able to let her love overshadow the hurt and let Chase back in her life.

  I wonder how she did it.

  “That’s okay, baby,” Chase whispers. “Sounds like the meetings, you know?”

  “What meetin’s?” Becca chimes in, stealing the question from my lips.

  Chase clears his throat. “Nar-Anon meetings. Recovery for family members who have someone struggling with addiction.” He looks to me. “It’s actually something I was planning to invite you to, Eli… if you want to go.”

  My stomach jolts. A recovery group? I’ve only experienced Pops’s addiction for the past month, it hasn’t had time to settle in and affect me. I feel fine.

  I shake my head. “That’s nice, man, but I don’t feel like I really need it.”

  He bobs his head, his dimples showing with his smile. “Well, the offer’s there. Maybe we’ll talk again after ‘family day.’”

  “That group of yours like therapy or somethin’?” Becca asks.

  Chase shrugs. “A little bit, I guess.” His eyes flick to mine. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

  I shift in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable with the way the conversation has headed. Becca’s attention jumps to me at the movement, her head cocking to the side. And then she just stares with that green gaze of hers, watching me until I can’t breathe.

  “I don’t know,” she says slowly. “That doesn’t sound so bad.” She shrugs, her gaze never leaving mine. “Not that I have experi
ence with therapy. Not yet anyway.”

  My brow arches. “Not yet?”

  “That’s right. Got my first meetin’ on Tuesday.” She takes a bite of her food and smiles.

  “You’re seeing a therapist?” My stomach flips at the thought.

  “Yeah, what about it?” Her shoulder lifts. “Everyone could use a little therapy.”

  “Especially you,” Chase mutters.

  Her head snaps over. “Watch your mouth, dick. Don’t make me take back all the nice things I’ve been sayin’ about you.”

  Chase chuckles, and my chest warms at her sass.

  That damn mouth.

  This is nice. I can almost convince myself it’s a regular family dinner. That we haven’t been estranged in all the ways that matter. I can almost pretend that being around Becca doesn’t make me feel like a livewire on the verge of explosion—jumping between all the ways I want her, and all the reasons why I shouldn’t.

  But more than anything, this dinner gives me hope. And that’s something I haven’t felt in a long time.

  Stepping Stones is in a beautiful area. Tucked away in the Smokies, it has the vibe of a retreat, more than a rehabilitation center. A tranquil setting, surrounded by blooming flowers and maple trees, hiding the struggles that exist inside its walls.

  It’s been a month since I dropped Pops off here. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since, and neither has Lee. We’ve been relegated to getting general updates from Mark and even those are vague.

  “Dang, this place is pretty,” Lee says as we walk toward the front doors.

  I hum my agreement. I would speak, but anxiety is making my tongue thick and my stomach jumbled. My mind is racing a hundred miles a minute, wondering where things are going to lead from this visit. If Pops is putting in the work to heal. If he’s mad, I brought him here in the first place. If Lee is ready to deal with whatever happens once we walk inside.

  Mark meets us at the front desk and steers us to his office.

  Lee’s chewing on her lip, her leg bouncing as soon as we sit down. Mark walks to the other side of his desk, his brown hair bobbing as he leans back in his office chair and smiles at Lee.