Until We Break

by Jamie Howard

  “You were a stripper? Why?” Blaire asks. “If you needed the money, you could have called and asked—”

  “It wasn’t about the money. When are you guys going to get it? It’s about having fun. It’s about living.”

  Haley makes a face like she’s sniffing rotten meat. “There are more things to life than having fun.”

  “Oh? And what would those things be?” Sloane rests her hand on her hip.

  “School, work, family,” Haley says, her eyes softening as she looks at me. “And there’s love.”

  Sloane makes a gagging noise. “Give me a break. Believing in all that fairy-tale-and-unicorns bullshit is how people like you end up like me.” She moves toward her as she speaks, stopping directly in front of her and trapping Haley between her arms as she rests her hands on the chairback. “Love is like poison, and once you’ve got it in you, it won’t stop until it’s destroyed everything you have.”

  Pushing off the bar, Sloane walks away. “Obviously you’ve never been in love, or you wouldn’t even be able to think that way,” Haley says, tilting her chin up a notch.

  That stops Sloane in her tracks.

  Sloane turns around with a smile on her face. It’s the kind of indulgent and tolerant smile that you might turn toward an annoying in-law. “Honey, you don’t know how much I wish that were true.” Shaking herself, she fights off the shadows in her eyes. “Now, can I give this lap dance, or are we going to spend all night having a philosophical debate?”

  Right, we’re back to my own personal torture. It’s not like I’ve never had a lap dance before, but getting one from Sloane is a bad idea. Getting a lap dance from Sloane while Haley is watching is an even worse one. As she presses PLAY and turns to me, the glimmer in her eyes tells me she’s going to enjoy this, and she’s going to make me enjoy this more than I want to.

  As she runs her hands up the inner edge of her thighs, over her breasts, and around to her neck, my mouth goes dry. She steps toward me, hips swaying hypnotically to the rhythm of the music. Her gaze pins me down as my heart hops on the treadmill.

  When she bends forward, running her hands from my knees to my upper thighs and then back, her touch sends jolts of electricity through me. I try to swallow, but there’s something lodged there.

  Leaning in toward me, she thrusts her tits into my face and then lets her body slide down mine. She smells like rain and Jack, and the scent of it is intoxicating. Even though her T-shirt keeps her covered, I can feel the softness of her pressed up against me.

  I try to take deep, even breaths, but it’s hard to look calm when everything inside of me is racing, pumping, pulsating, hardening. I can’t stop watching her, but in my mind I’m trying to solve differential equations and thinking of Harrison naked.

  Fuck, it’s not working.

  Kneeling in front of me, my dick senses someone in close proximity and lunges to life. She’s running her hands up and down my legs again, but this time, she leans even closer and traces them over my stomach and around my waist. Her eyes flicker down to the bulge in my pants, and her lips curl in a knowing grin as she lifts a brow at me. The blood in my veins is replaced with fire, and I feel the burn everywhere.

  I cannot look at Haley. Do not look at her. Do NOT look at her.

  I blow a heavy breath out of my nose as she turns and stands back up ass-first. I imagine ripping off those little shorts, which are doing nothing to disguise the fact that she’s not wearing underwear, and plunging into her. My fingers twitch at my side, giving away my desire to grab her, if anyone is paying close enough attention.

  When she lowers her ass into my lap, all conscious thought leaves my brain. She grinds herself down against me, rocking her hips from side to side to the beat of the music. The last flicker of a naked Harrison is banished to the darkest recesses of my mind, and all I can see, all I can feel, is Sloane. The room around me collapses into a pinhole bubble that holds nothing but the two of us. No other people, no other sounds. As she slides down me, her hair brushes my face, and I get a whiff of that damn coconut shampoo. To this day, that smell still drives me insane.

  She does the ass thing again and then turns around. Her eyes meet mine, and her pupils are like giant black holes. She’s as turned on as I am. Her skin seems to shiver with desire, and I can see her heartbeat pounding at the base of her throat. I want to put my lips there and taste her. My tongue darts out to wet my lips. She notices.

  Placing one knee on each side of my hips, she sits in my lap. My hands are fisted at my sides to keep from wrapping them around her waist as she grinds against me. There’s no doubt in my mind that she can tell how turned on I am, as my dick presses up against the confines of my jeans.

  Sliding back off my lap, she gives one last shimmy before turning around and picking her iPod back up. Whatever trance I’ve been in, the one that kept all my senses trained on Sloane, is whisked away, and reality comes crashing down around me like a broken window. Haley just watched that.

  I curse under my breath.

  Harrison shifts uncomfortably on his stool. “Wow. Umm … do you think you could teach Blaire how to do that?”

  Blaire slugs him but grins at Sloane. “No, seriously. Teach me that.”

  I finally drag my gaze to Haley. Her lips are pinched so hard together that they’ve lost their typical pale-pink color. I force myself to move, trying to unobtrusively adjust my pants. Sloane’s gaze darts to me and then away again. Drawing attention to herself by offering everyone a fresh round of drinks, she allows me to slip behind the bar without any incredibly embarrassing moments.

  I could fucking kiss her. Except, I really want to kiss her. Sloane is like a drug, and I just can’t seem to get her out of my system.

  Instead, I kiss Haley on the cheek, letting my lips drift up to her ear so I can whisper, “You okay?”

  She nods stiffly. “Fine.”

  “So,” Sloane says, “are we playing one last round, or are we ending on my epicness?”

  “One more round,” Haley says, taking a long healthy sip from her glass. She doesn’t choke this time.

  “Well, that makes it my turn again.” Harrison reaches for the bowl. “‘If you had to date someone in this room, other than your current boyfriend or girlfriend, who would it be?’”

  Shit. I already know his answer without even having to hear it.

  Harrison tries to play it off lightly. “Well, after that performance, I’m gonna have to say Sloane.”

  Haley shrugs, but it’s easy to see that she’s upset. Why did she even suggest this stupid game? My gaze shifts toward Sloane, where she’s reclaimed her perch on the bar top. Why she feels the need to sit up there when everyone else is on stools or chairs, I have no clue. She’s absently twirling a strand of hair around her finger, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Seeing her playing with her hair brings back a fresh waft of coconut shampoo, and I straighten my pants, which are still uncomfortably tight. I’m never going to be able to make a piña colada again without getting turned on.

  Plunging forward, Blaire snags the bowl. “‘What is your favorite body part of the opposite sex?’” She laughs. “Other than the obvious, I’m going to say hands.”

  Harrison lifts his meaty paws in the air and waves his fingers at her.

  Haley takes the bowl. Why the hell do they keep skipping me?

  “‘Sit in someone’s lap until your next turn.’” Her voice sounds bored and dejected, and I’m kicking myself for agreeing to this game. “‘Luke.’”

  Surprisingly, drawing my name doesn’t make her seem any more or less excited. And I’m more than happy to have Haley sit in my lap, except for one problem. Fuck me.

  Haley pulls the fated lap-dance chair over to the group and motions for me to sit. I comply, but when she sits on my lap, she throws a heated stare over her shoulder. The fires of hell descend on me with that look.

  She sits stiffer than a corpse, barely touching me except where it’s absolutely necessary. Harrison pinches the bridge of his n
ose as he looks at us and shakes his head. Blaire and Sloane share a look. What the hell? Since when are they on the same page?

  Blaire passes the bowl to me, and I pick my paper and read, “‘How often do you masturbate?’”

  I wave my hand in the air, more than ready for this stupid game to be over with. “Whenever I feel the urge. I don’t know—a few times a week?”

  Haley’s nose pinches as she turns around to glare at me. What? Is a guy not supposed to masturbate?

  She takes the bowl from me and passes it back over to Blaire, who slides it down toward Sloane.

  “Okay, last one of the night.” Her hair slips forward in front of her face as she tips her head down to read it. “‘Have you ever loved someone who didn’t love you back?’”

  She stares at the small scrap of paper in her hand and then crumples it into a tiny ball.

  “Yup.”

  The words sound like they’re forced out. She puts on that fake smile again, and I wonder if she’s fooling anyone. She’s not fooling me.

  Leaning over, she plucks another bottle from behind the counter. “Who needs another drink?”

  Chapter 36

  Sloane

  My blood keeps up a slow simmer underneath my skin, and I try to drown the sensation with more Jack. I had every intention of driving Luke crazy with that lap dance. I wanted to make him regret everything he did to me, to make him see what he was missing out on.

  In that regard—mission accomplished.

  The only problem is that I think it affected me as much as it did him. When he stared at me, his eyes were an open book. Desire was written clearly across his face until it seemed to hum in the air around us like a frenzy of bees.

  But while I distracted everyone so he could take refuge behind the bar, he had whispered in Haley’s ear and kissed her on the cheek with this soft expression on his face that he’s never looked at me with. It’s like he dropkicked my heart, and it still hasn’t recovered from the last beating he gave it.

  This summer can’t be over fast enough. Luke Evans was, is, and always will be the worst thing for my heart. Given half the chance, he’ll grind it to dust. Again.

  I take another large gulp of Jack, hoping beyond hope that maybe if I get drunk enough I can stop feeling. It’s so much better that way. Ever since I came back here I’ve been feeling entirely too much. It’s like I’ve got third-degree burns covering my entire body, and everything I do, every awful breath I take is so full of blistering pain that tears constantly hover in the corners of my eyes. Hiding that from everyone, not letting them see how they’re affecting me, is becoming nearly impossible.

  Blaire slides into the booth across from me, resting her arms on the table. “Hey,” she says, as hesitantly as if she were talking to a stranger. I guess in some ways, we are.

  “Hey.”

  “Look, I know there’s a lot of crap between us.” She runs a hand through her hair. “I shouldn’t have lied to you, but Mom and Dad made me swear not to tell you. I’m sorry Sloane. I’m so damn sorry.”

  Any other time I would have bit her head off, but at the moment I just can’t bring myself to do it. The truth is that I miss Blaire, as much as I like to convince myself that I don’t. In one summer I lost Cash, my parents, my sister, the guy I loved. I still haven’t recovered from it. I’m not sure that I ever will. “I know, I … can we just not talk about it?”

  She nods and stares down at her hands. “I don’t want to drudge up old memories or press my luck here, but Mom and Dad really miss you. They talk about you all the time. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think you should give them another chance.”

  I massage a finger against my temple, trying to ward off the reappearance of my headache. Blaire really knows how to hit me when my defenses are down. “I’m just not there yet. Maybe someday I will be. I can’t make you any promises, but I’ll work on it. That’s the best I can do.”

  A grin breaks across her face. “I’ll take it. And I’m changing the subject.” She leans forward and grabs my hand. “I would like to officially ask you to be one of my bridesmaids.” Her pause is momentary. “So, will you?”

  “Are you shitting me?”

  Blaire laughs. “No, I am not shitting you.” She shifts in her seat. “That sounds really painful.”

  Now we’re both laughing.

  “For better or worse, you’re my sister, and I want you there, by my side. Say yes, Sloane. I’m tired of being your enemy.”

  I should refuse. After this summer I should hightail it out of here and never ever come back. But instead I say, “Yes,” like the idiot I am.

  I never learn.

  “But no pink dresses. I draw the line at pink.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Fine, no pink dresses.”

  Muffled shouts pierce through the door of the back room. Haley and Luke have been locked in there for the past fifteen minutes, their yelling periodically punctuated by random crashes and ominous silence.

  I frown at the door. “Why is he even with her?”

  “They’re actually really great together. I’ve never seen them fight like this.”

  The thought that I’m causing problems in their relationship makes me feel surprisingly guilty. I shake it off. What did she even have to be mad over? That he got turned on by a lap dance? What guy wouldn’t?

  “It’s ridiculous that she’s mad about a lap dance. I defy any guy not to get turned on by one of those.”

  Blaire gnaws at her lip. “I don’t think it’s the lap dance, not exactly. It was more the way he was looking at you.”

  “How exactly was he looking at me?”

  She tilts her head to the side and grimaces. “Kind of like he wanted to rip off all your clothes and mount you right there.”

  “Who wants to mount whom?” Harrison asks, dropping down onto the bench beside Blaire.

  I lift one shoulder in a half shrug. “Apparently, Luke wants to mount me. According to Blaire.”

  “Ah. She’s not wrong. I could’ve sliced the sexual tension in here and spread it on toast.” He rubs his hand against his other palm, illustrating his point.

  “It was just a lap dance!” I hear Luke yell.

  “Exactly,” I say. “Just a lap dance.”

  Harrison shakes his head.

  “Whatever. Believe what you want. Those two are a horrible match.” I slouch back against the back of the booth.

  “You don’t even know her,” Blaire says.

  “I know enough,” I say. “I know that she’ll bore him to tears sooner rather than later. I know that she’ll try to make him be someone that he’s not and that he’ll end up resenting her for it. I know that when push comes to shove, he’ll do what every other guy does and go fuck someone else.”

  “Hey, I take offense to that.” Harrison folds his arms across his chest. “Not every guy is like that.”

  “Well, I’ve yet to run across one who isn’t, but I know for a fact that Luke is. Did you miss the part where he slept with me and then Blaire?”

  He presses his fingers into his eyes. “Thank you for putting that image back in my head.” He shudders.

  Blaire taps a fingernail against the table. “You’re missing the difference, though. He’s with Haley. He loves her. We were just one-night stands; we didn’t mean anything.”

  My hand clamps around my glass so hard that I think it might shatter under the pressure. I picture the glass splintering, slicing my hand into fleshy ribbons, like Blaire’s words just did to my heart.

  Her eyes bore into mine, searching them. “Sloane, it was a one-night stand, wasn’t it?”

  I press my lips together. “It doesn’t matter.” When she goes to push further, I cut her off. “So, tell me about this engagement party you’re planning.”

  As Blaire tells me about the party, which is next weekend, I realize that up until tonight she wasn’t even going ask me to come. Frustrated by the small pang of hurt I get from that, I kick all of my emotions into a giant pile a
nd then shovel them back behind that locked door in my mind. I only half-listen as she tells me about the party—that it’s replacing the black-and-white party this year, that Mom and Dad invited nearly everyone they know, and about the dress she’s planning on wearing.

  “I can’t decide if I want to go with the black—”

  The door to the back room flies open, ricocheting off the wall. Luke comes storming out, his anger etched into his face. He spies the three of us sitting together, throws Blaire a dark glare, and flings open the door to the back deck, slamming it behind him.

  Haley emerges a few seconds later, her face alternately white and blotched with red. Even from here I can see the tear tracks down her cheeks. She too looks at us and then heads for a booth in the exact opposite direction.

  Blaire sighs. “Which one do you want?”

  Harrison scrubs a hand through his hair. “I think you should take him; I’ll take her.”

  They both look at me. I wave my hand in a dismissive gesture. “Don’t mind me. I think I’m going to call it a night.”

  Slipping my headphones back on, I watch as Harrison sits down next to Haley and puts an arm around her shoulders. She turns her head so that she’s crying into his shoulder. Blaire pulls open the back door, the wind nearly snatching it out of her hand before she ducks her head and closes the door behind her.

  Laying down on the booth, I curl up on my side and tune them all out. By morning the storm will have blown out, and I’m determined that any lingering feelings I have will be gone with it.

  Chapter 37

  Luke

  This is all so fucking wrong.

  Haley and I are happy. We don’t fight like this. I don’t make her cry.

  It was a lap dance. Just a harmless lap dance. There wasn’t anything else to it. I still can’t believe that she’s mad at me for being turned on. I have half a mind to go back in there and make Sloane perform the same routine on Harrison just to prove a point.

  My dick thinks with a completely different head than my actual brain. My head wants Haley, but my dick wants Sloane. And my heart? My heart is so conflicted that I’m surprised it’s still pumping blood in the right direction, with how much strain it’s under. Damn Sloane. She needs to go back to wherever she came from, because she’s just messing me up in a bad way.