by S. J. Sylvis
Shell? Like I’m a freaking turtle?
“I knew it would bother you and I knew it would make you upset. Even if you didn’t have these secret, lustful feelings for him.” I gasped, appalled that she thought I was lusting after him. “You and Dawson were super freaking close. Closer than us, closer than me and Casey. You and Dawson were like Siamese twins, except you two were a very rare form because you were, like, in love with each other.”
I laughed out loud but I didn’t deny it.
Becca quipped a well-manicured eyebrow at me and handed me my next outfit without saying another word.
I slipped on a sheer white blouse that I had originally bought for work, but without pairing it with its blazer, it looked casual enough for Ships. Becca threw a pair of dressy, closed-toe shoes at my head, which bounced off and hit the floor. I snatched them up and placed them on my feet, tying the black leather strap around my ankle with as much force as possible.
I was bitchy and pissed, all because Dawson was dating Breanna.
Or was I acting that way because he wasn’t single in general? Maybe it had nothing to do with Breanna.
“Are you ready to be welcomed back into our sleepy ol’ town once again?” Becca asked, not even laying a pinky toe on our previous conversation.
I grinned, thinking back to when Eric called my favorite place in the entire world a Podunk, stupid, sleepy-town. I almost wanted to take a picture of myself in my super-hot outfit at the bar, having fun with my old friends, and send it to him.
I wanted to pair it with a middle finger emoji and tell him he was missing out.
✽✽✽
“Dawson’s here,” Becca whispered, grabbing my hand and placing it in hers.
“How do you know?” My heart jumped for two completely different reasons; I was overly excited to see him but also totally nervous that Breanna would be with him.
“That’s his truck,” Becca threw her head in the direction of a navy blue GMC Sierra truck that looked brand new. It had the famous Lanning Construction logo plastered on the side.
My stomach twisted and lurched like I was going to puke up the Ramen noodles I’d scarfed down after work (don’t judge, I may be twenty-three and have a well-established bank account, but I still lived like the college student I never truly got to be).
Becca pulled open the door to Ships and I was immediately greeted with neon signs glowing on every single wall. My eyes swept over the bright lights overhead and then made their way around the establishment, looking for only one person in particular.
Becca giggled. “I feel like I should lay out a red carpet for you.”
I laughed at her, hoping it would make it seem like I was totally at ease.
At first, I spotted Max from across the room, standing near a pool table. I couldn’t help the cheesy smile that molded to my face. He waved so frantically at me that I actually started to laugh. I gave him a small wave and then moved my attention apprehensively to the bar.
Dawson’s sculpted face was hidden underneath a woman's bleach-blonde head of hair but I knew it was him. My body reacted before my brain even registered it; a tingle of excitement came over me only to be quickly shut down when Breanna’s head popped up.
I felt like I’d been cut.
Am I bleeding?!
The jealously that sparked from deep within caused me to grind my teeth.
My God, I was acting like Dawson was my ex-lover and I had just seen him fucking some other girl. Jealousy reared its ugly head and I wanted to duck out of Sailed Ships immediately.
But then he turned and flicked his eyes up to mine. I only held his stare for a few seconds if that, but I swore he was telling me something with his eyes.
I wasn’t sure what, but he was definitely trying to convey something to me at that moment.
Breanna pulled his attention back, causing my gaze to lock onto her platinum-colored hair and slutty, pink dress. Then when I found her narrowed eyes, she was glaring at me with such hatred that I was almost convinced I’d done something terrible to her.
Had I run over her cat?
Had I wrecked into her car?
Had I murdered her best friend?
The world may never know because I was about three seconds away from being murdered by a pair of mascara-laden blue eyes.
Maturity would probably have been a better tactic for me to take, as I was literally looking into the future and seeing my own death at the hands of a manicured Barbie, but the jealous fifteen-year-old girl inside of me emerged and I narrowed my gaze right back at her and smiled widely. I also waved, my fingers twinkling towards her opened mouth.
I could have sworn I saw Dawson’s lip twitch, but his face was quickly out of my sight as Max appeared in front of me, holding his arms out for a giant hug.
“I can’t believe you’re back, Ivy!” Max pulled me up and swung me around the bar.
“I’m glad you’re happy to see me,” I giggled as he put me back onto the sticky bar floor.
Max grinned. “Come on, you two. Come sit with me back here. It’s quieter and… less catty.”
I snickered as Becca and I followed him to his booth. I looked over at her, making sure she was following and suddenly she looked nervous and a little bit frazzled. Her cheeks were a little darker than normal, too, but maybe it was just the weird way the bar lights made everyone look like Avatars.
As soon as we were tucked back in the booth, Max threw his head back and erupted with the most ridiculously loud laughter. Becca and I shared tiny smiles but it was clear with our deer-in-the-headlights looks that we had no idea what was actually going on.
“I can’t believe you fucking…” Max laughed again. “I can’t believe you fucking waved at her.”
I bit my tongue to stop myself from also cracking up.
“I know, I… I don’t know what came over me.”
Actually, yes, I do. The Charlie’s Angel inside of me wanted to fucking karate chop Breanna away from Dawson. I was channeling my inner Lucy Liu.
“I don’t know, but I loved it. The old Ivy never would have done that. She would have retreated back into her little mouse hole.”
My shoulders slumped. So far tonight I’d been called a turtle and now a mouse.
“I’ve done a lot of growing up over the last six years,” I stated.
“Yes… you have.”
“Gah, keep it in your pants, Mr. Adams.”
My head shot over to Becca, whose cheeks were no longer flushed. She looked steely and cold, angling her body toward Max.
“Mr. Adams?” I questioned, looking back and forth between the pair of them.
They were staring at each other with an intense hold, so intense that I bet if I waved my arm in front of their faces, it wouldn’t even phase them.
A few more seconds passed, along with some thumps of a microphone toward the front somewhere, then they finally broke their stare.
“Yeah, that’s my last name.”
I rolled my eyes at Max. “I know, dummy. But why so formal?”
“We work together,” Becca mumbled under her breath, seeming completely unhappy about the predicament. “He’s the P.E. teacher at the high school.”
“Oh, nice!” I cooed, but Becca huffed from beside me.
“So, what’ll you be having, dears?” Max asked, sliding out from the booth. “Drinks are on me for the two prettiest ladies in here tonight. We’ve gotta welcome Miss Ivy back like she’d never left.”
I giggled because Becca had said the same thing.
As we relayed to Max what we wanted from the bar, a small town band started to play some of their cover songs, blaring acoustic music through the speakers. My attention was momentarily glued to the stage tucked away in the corner, but soon I turned my head around, looking for Dawson and Psycho (I mean Breanna).
I saw Max, grabbing our drinks while also flirting with a girl displaying a lovely tramp stamp from beneath her hot pink tube top. I snickered and Becca groaned in disgust.
&nb
sp; I asked, “What’s going on between you two? You seem tense.”
My eyes roamed the bar, looking for a tall, dark, and handsome guy and his bleached blonde minion but… Dawson and Breanna were no longer in sight.
I searched frantically towards the dance floor, but once again, I came up empty-handed.
Great, I’ve run them out of the bar just by my mere presence.
I would have been happy about that if it had just been Breanna who had left but of course, Dawson being the great boyfriend that I’m sure he was, probably went with her.
“Nothing,” Becca answered, her voice a mixture of contempt and outright anger.
I crinkled my eyebrows, preparing to coax a better response out of her, but I heard a familiar voice boom up ahead.
I gasped with surprise when my gaze landed on another familiar face: Emmett.
Emmett and Dawson didn’t really look alike, although they both had dark hair and jaws made of steel. They both resembled male models, like the type you see in cologne ads, but they were also extremely different. Dawson would be featured in a more sophisticated cologne ad, like Calvin Klein, but Emmett would be seen in something similar to Gucci with his mysterious vibe and sexy, unshaven face.
“Wow, Emmett looks…” I started, looking at Becca and then back to Emmett.
He finally caught my stare and his eyes widened at the same time his mouth did. He formed a cunning smile and started to make his way over to me.
“Yeah, he’s fucking hot in that dangerous, might-fuck-you-in-a-dressing-room kind of way.”
I laughed, watching him stumble over to our booth.
“Is he drunk?” I whispered.
“Looks like it…”
I could smell the tequila on his breath as he reached for me, pulling me to my feet and draping an arm over my shoulder. He squeezed slightly and slurred, “Wow, I can’t believe my brother’s girl is home.”
My breath caught but before I could say anything, he lightly shoved me back into the booth and then climbed in beside me, causing me to squish Becca against the wall. She was hiding a smile behind her hand and I gave her a “help me” look, but she only chuckled.
“I think Breanna would disagree that I was your brother’s girl, Emmett.” I tried desperately to change the direction of the conversation. “How are you? It’s been a really long time since I’ve seen you in person.”
He leaned back, placing his arm around the top of the booth behind my head. “Me? I’m just fucking dandy.”
I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. I didn’t know Emmett very well when I was younger. He’d been absent for most of my friendship with Dawson, since he’d been sent to a military school for his bad-boy behavior. And now, he was more like a complete stranger to me. He didn’t seem to think I was a stranger, though. He brought his arm back down, resting it slightly on my shoulders again.
“Better not let Dawson see you with your arm around her like that, Emmett,” Max warned as he came back to the table and handed Becca and I our drinks – a beer for Becca and a whisky sour for me.
“What, think he’ll get his panties in a wad? Good.”
Max looked uneasy as he observed Emmett slurring his words and swaying back and forth in his seat. His dark eyes were red and glossy, and he could barely keep them open.
He was drunk as a skunk.
Apparently bad-boy Emmett hadn’t changed all that much.
Before I could even sip on my drink, Emmett snatched it out of my hand and threw his head back, gulping the entire thing in one single swallow.
My mouth dropped as he slammed it back down on the table.
“Thanks, babe,” he said and I literally laughed out loud.
“Thank him.” I ushered to Max who was all but glaring at Emmett. “He bought it.”
A huge smile covered Emmett’s face and then he rested his heavy head on my shoulder.
The entire situation was weird. I kind of felt like I was in the middle of some wicked acid trip. Emmett was acting like he and I were the best of friends, and the full weight of his head was so heavy on my shoulder that it was starting to ache.
“You’re all grown up, Ivy,” he slurred, his alcohol-laden breath almost stunning me into a daze.
I breathed out a small sigh, suddenly feeling a little sad for him. He was truly drunk off his ass and I was pretty sure people didn’t get this shit-faced this early in the night just for the fun of it.
Okay, maybe they did, but I had a serious hunch that Emmett was troubled and that was why he was so inebriated.
I leaned my head over on top of his and patted his arm a few times to make sure he wasn’t about to pass out on me, and then I heard the bar door slam shut. I peeped my eyes upward and I was met with the coldest stare that I’d ever seen.
Dawson’s narrowed gaze was trained on his brother’s head, resting on my shoulder, and even from a distance I could see the rage swimming in his icy blue hues. It seemed that Dawson did not like seeing his brother with me…and that sent a shock of excitement down my limbs.
Chapter Sixteen
Dawson
I saw red. Pure red.
I’d never wanted to fucking hurl my brother across a room before but I was mere seconds away from adding it to my bucket list and crossing it off all in the same night.
He was touching Ivy. My Ivy.
I paused on my way over to the table. My Ivy? Jesus Christ.
Breanna had one of her friends take her home after screaming at me in the parking lot (classy). She was livid. No, she was beyond livid. She wasn’t even screaming proper insanities at me. Something about me knowing that Ivy was back and how I didn’t deny it.
She wanted to know why I hadn’t told her, and I couldn’t give her a truthful answer. Deep down I knew why I didn’t tell her, because she would forbid me to talk to her and I wasn’t going to do that – which was sure to put a wedge in my new-ish relationship with her.
I told her that I’d talk with her after she calmed down a bit and she rolled her eyes and stomped off with her friend, saying she’d talk to me when she felt like it.
Okay, then. I’m sure she wanted me to chase after her but after knowing Breanna for years, I knew that it was better to talk with her when she had a level head. She was slightly less crazy that way.
I probably should have gone after her; that’s what a normal boyfriend would do, but as soon as I saw my drunken brother resting his dumb head on Ivy’s delicate shoulder, all thoughts of being a decent boyfriend flew out the fucking window.
My eyes fell over the long curve of her neck, all the way to the slope of her collarbone and then to his stupid, fucking head laying there.
I was only a few feet away, keeping my eyes trained on him, when I noticed that his eyes were closed.
I stopped, squinting my eyes. Is he passed out?
I flipped my attention over to Ivy and her face was a mix between remorse and concern and then I instantly realized that he was probably drunker than drunk, and was actually passed out on her shoulder. Ivy’s eyes softened, as if she was portraying how sorry she was that he was drunk and it was like my heart was torn inside my chest.
Ivy had nothing to be sorry about. But I knew exactly who should be.
His fucking girlfriend, or maybe ex-girlfriend, Carrie. They’d broken up and gotten back together so many times over the last few months that I couldn’t keep up. When they were broken up, it was so embarrassingly obvious to everyone because Emmett would drown himself in liquor and then sober up for work, only to be face-to-face with her again because she worked at the tattoo shop, too.
Why didn’t he fire her? I had no idea. He owned the business, he made the rules, yet he just couldn’t do it.
“Emmett,” I hissed, but he didn’t move an inch. I walked over and a hush fell over the table. I could see the penetrating stare from Max and I was absolutely sure that Becca was scowling at me because, well, she hates me.
I brought my clenched fist up, opening it, and nudged
his head with my hand. I wanted to smack the hell out of him, but since he was leaning on Ivy, I tried to be gentle.
Fucking shit.
Emmett moaned but that was it. He didn’t move an inch which meant I was going to have to carry him out of here.
I didn’t have time for this shit. I had a girlfriend who was fucking pissed at me, and then I had Ivy who looked at me like I’d run over her puppy moments ago when she saw me with Breanna, and unfortunately, that was my biggest concern.
I looked back at Max. “Help me carry him to my truck.”
Max slid out of the booth, his weight causing the leather booth to squeak. I reached towards my brother and pulled his arm to slide him out. His head wobbled off of Ivy’s shoulder and hit the back of the booth with a loud thud.
As soon as I had one of his heavy arms draped over my shoulders, Max did the same for the other. I paused and looked up at Ivy, who was biting her fingernail, staring at the three of us.
“Ivy…” I started, feeling totally unsure of myself, which seemed to be a common thing when I was around her. “I know you’re pissed at me, but can you go see if he has an open tab and come out and let me know so I can pay it?”
Her face faltered for a second, small creases forming around her eyes, but then she gave me a curt nod.
I swallowed, feeling my pulse hammering underneath my skin and then started to drag my brother out of the bar. No one even paid us any attention, which meant one thing: this had happened way too often and it was becoming a problem.
The chilly autumn air cooled my glistening skin as I leaned against the fender of my truck after Max and I shoved Emmett in the back. I honestly felt a little unstable. Things were getting out of control.
Breanna was pissed (I gave fewer fucks than I should have).
My brother was a mess, just after he’d gotten his shit together (that bothered me more than it should).
Ivy was probably upset with me (and I cared about that more than anything in the world).
And now I had Max looking at me like I was about to bust a gasket. Fuckin’ rad.
“What?” I snapped, meeting his amused face that also held a glint of caution.