by Melody Anne
After I slipped on a pair of strappy black heels, we were ready to go. It was seven and the show started at eight.
“I might need another drink, or three, before we go,” I said.
I was dying.
No, someone was killing me. They were inserting a chisel behind my eyelids and trying to split my skull in half while a mariachi band played. Loudly.
“Avery, you need to take these or you’re going to feel a lot worse, babe.” Shari shoved some Tylenol and a glass of water into my hands. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you get that drunk before.”
“I’m never going out with you again,” I groaned.
I opened my mouth and tossed the pills in, then took a sip of water. The concert was okay, and there had been some pretty cute guys, especially when Shari dragged me backstage to talk to the lead singer, Kade, about her father.
That’s when we got pulled into shots with the entire band to celebrate.
They were nice guys and were excited by the meeting with Shari’s dad, but by God could they drink. And it was pretty obvious that the drummer was interested in a little more than just drinking. I could have, if I’d wanted to.
He was pretty hot, but I couldn’t get Seth out of my head all night.
Shari took the water glass from me, and when I lay down, she curled up behind me. Her cool fingers stroked my forehead, pushing my hair out of my face.
I wanted to groan and curl into a ball. Damn him. No, damn me for not being able to push him out of my head.
I really thought that we’d managed to find a little bit of common ground when we didn’t go for each other’s jugular Friday in the Works parking lot. He’d actually smiled at my lame-assed joke about candy.
Seth was entirely too good-looking when he smiled. Which explained why I had the momentary brain lapse and wondered if he kissed as expertly as I remembered. All week I’d been watching him, covertly, of course, and I couldn’t deny that something about him made me want to bite down on my knuckles, hard. I could pretend and deny all I wanted to, but it was right there in front of me for eight hours a day.
He looked like pure sex on a stick in that tight dark gray T-shirt and faded jeans that hung low on his hips. The black ink swirls on his arms drew my gaze like a moth to a flame. He radiated sexy maleness, and I wasn’t immune to it any more than any other girl.
There was something insanely chemical going on between us. I knew it was nothing more. I saw the way he sometimes looked at me, like I was harboring the plague. Like he couldn’t stay far enough away from me.
Or get close enough.
But then the asshole reared his head.
Thank you so much, Princess.
He had to say or do something every day to remind me that he was really just some jerk in an orange jumpsuit.
I groaned again and pulled the comforter over my head. Clearly I was too hungover to deal with all this.
“So, Kade said that Zeke was way into you last night. You’re single now, why didn’t you ride that ride? I thought you wanted to live a little now that Grant was out of the picture?”
“I’m not going to start sleeping around with strangers just because I can,” I grumbled.
Shari peeled back the covers and grinned at me. “You know, I find this all very interesting.”
My only response was to grunt. She was entirely too chipper for as much as we drank last night.
“If it had been Seth there last night, would you have done it?” she asked with a knowing grin.
I threw my pillow at her and she just laughed.
“Ave, babe. I’ve known you since we were in diapers. You’ve always been the calm, collected one. It’s why you and I work so well together. You’re the voice of reason. You follow the rules. You keep your cool no matter the situation. I’m the crazy one who flips her shit everywhere. But . . . this side of you. I’ve never seen you get worked up so fast around a guy. Hell, if anyone deserved to be yelled at, it was Grant, and yet you were always so reasonable with him. So fucking calm I thought maybe you drank the Stepford water.”
“That’s how it should be. Fighting all the time means that something is obviously wrong.” Right?
So Grant and I never fought. I’d never seen my parents go at each other’s throats either. Civilized people handled things privately, swept their issues and their dirty laundry under the rug. What Seth and I did that first night at O’Malley’s was completely uncivilized. Throwing down in a bar parking lot like one of those couples on a trashy sitcom.
Shari laughed, and the sound echoed in my throbbing head, causing me to cringe.
“That is definitely not how it should be. Why do you think I love fucking around so much? It’s all about the chemistry. About these crazy intense feelings that keep piling on top of each other until you know that if you don’t let him throw you down and do illegal things to your body, you’ll die.” Shari paused to fan herself. “Gotta say, Ryan certainly knew how to throw down. Multiple times. Maybe I should call him.”
“Oh, my God, as if I weren’t nauseous enough.” I tried to shove Shari away, but she wrapped her arms around me and wouldn’t let go.
“All I’m saying is that for the first time since I’ve known you, you aren’t in control of yourself. You look alive, Ave. For the first time in forever, there’s a spark inside you. Like you’re waking up or some psychobabble shit like that.”
“I don’t like feeling out of control,” I grumbled.
“Oh, honey, you definitely do. It’s all over your face every time you mention Seth.”
“You’re delusional. He hates me. I hate him.” I told her about Friday afternoon in the Works parking lot.
Shari’s eyes got round, then she threw herself back onto the bed and laughed so hard I thought I was going to throw up from all the motion. When she finally got control of herself, she peeked over at me.
“You are like this totally hot package with no clue, Ave.”
I’d had enough. My head was still pounding and my tongue was so thick I could hardly swallow and I felt sticky from dancing last night. I needed a shower and a pot of coffee.
I’d almost made it to the bathroom when I heard Shari get out of bed.
“Avery, sweetie. That hot boy wants you bad. It’s obvious that you want him too, so what you need to do is figure out what you’re going to do about it.”
CHAPTER TEN
Seth
Ryan and I spent Saturday morning at the Works parking lot, replacing the alternator on my truck. Damn thing was a piece of shit, but it was all I had so I had to make it work. No truck, no job. No job, no helping Sara.
“What do you say after this we grab burgers and chill at your place?”
“What the hell is there to do at my place, moron? I don’t even have a TV.”
“Well, I was thinking . . . you’re in a funk, man. Honestly, I think you need to get laid. How long has it been? Have you been with a woman since you got out?”
Avery flashed through my head. God, even my subconscious was a masochist. I didn’t want her and I did all in the same breath. “No. Not that it’s any of your fucking business.”
“That’s your problem right there. You need to break up with your hand and get back to the real thing.”
“God, you’re an asshole.”
“But I’m a right asshole.” Ryan threw his tools into the box and pushed it shut.
“I have something I need to do. Rain check?”
Ryan immediately swung around. “A chick?”
“Oh, my God. No, I’m not off to do some chick. There’s something wrong with you, you know that, right?” I swung open the rusted door of my truck and climbed in.
Ry puffed out his chest. “Dude, I am so wrong that I’m right.”
“I’ll call you later. Maybe.” The engine turned over and sounded better than it had in ages. Ryan must have tweaked something under the hood. “Thanks again, man. For everything.”
“I got your back, Seth. You know that. Now go, do
this mysterious woman, and then tell me all about it.”
I could hear his laughter over the rumble of my exhaust as I drove away.
What a shit head. But he was the best friend I could ever have asked for, and that outweighed all the other shit.
You find out who your real friends are when shit goes down.
I drove into town. The therapist I’d been seeing in prison recommended I take a look at a couple of books now that I was out to help me on my “path to redemption.”
Arnold strongly suggested I go to the library this weekend, so that he could assure the therapist that I was working on myself. Whatever. I’d go, get the damned book, and then take it to my appointment next Friday. That oughta make everyone happy.
Get yourself together and then we can take a real look at college.
Arnold’s words echoed in my head. College. I could go to college. But what the fuck would I even study? I was shit at everything. My parents never finished high school, and unless Davis went to the University of Fucking Drug Dealers, he wasn’t any better.
Sara was always supposed to be the one who made something of herself. Four years younger than me, she was smart and driven and had more potential than anyone else in our trailer park. Christ, the way she played the violin got her middle school music teacher all worked up. Said she was going places if she kept at it. That was before Davis. God, would she ever get that back? Would I ever get my sister back?
I pulled into the parking lot for the library and fought back a wave of panic. The last time I’d been here had been a few months before my mom met Davis. She loved this place and tried to get me and Sara into reading.
I preferred sports magazines to books, but Sara had devoured every single horse novel she could get her hands on. She had a stuffed horse she called Black Beauty. That damned thing went everywhere with her.
I killed the engine and sat staring up at the Gothic-style building.
Sara said it looked like a castle, where a great king and queen lived. I told her that was stupid. Kings and queens don’t live in North Carolina.
I swallowed against the emotion lodged in my throat. This was one of only a few places that I had memories of us all being together and happy.
The lump moved to my gut, and I got out of the truck. In; book; out.
I pushed through the heavy door and then through what looked like a metal detector. Yeah, things had changed since the last time, for sure. The circulation desk was right in the center of the lobby, and that’s where I went.
“Can I help you?” The white-haired woman was old as dirt and so tiny she could barely see above the counter.
“I’m looking for The Art of War, it’s by . . .”
“Sun Tzu, yes, I know. You’ll enjoy that one.” She winked at me and gave me a piece of paper with a number on it. “Second floor, back by the reading room.”
“Thanks.” I headed toward the stairs. The children’s section was on the second floor. I felt ten again, climbing the stairs with my mother and Sara right behind me. I could almost hear her telling me not to run.
I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It did nothing to relieve the pain that had been building since I pulled into the parking lot. I knew it was going to be hard walking into this place, but it felt like my insides were being ripped out.
Damn Davis for everything he took from me.
I needed the book and then I needed to get the fuck out of here before I exploded.
The numbers went up, so I followed the stacks until I found the right one. Halfway down on the left was the one I was looking for. The Art of War. Sounded like the perfect read for someone with anger issues. God, what the hell was my therapist thinking?
I grabbed the book and kept going down the aisle.
No one said I had to actually read it. This was to keep Arnold and the therapist happy.
The row ended in front of a huge open room. The sign over my head said READING ROOM. NO TALKING PLEASE.
There were chairs and tables and couches and the place was almost all windows. Trees and shrubs in containers filled in the gaps. It had a café feel to it, but without the coffee.
This was not here when I was younger. I stepped inside before I realized it. The place was pretty full for a Saturday, and everyone had their noses buried in books. Some were obviously doing work, others were just reading.
There was a free chair by the window that overlooked the small park behind the library. Kids ran around and played all over the place, their shrieks muted by the glass. I sank down into the chair. The park used to be smaller, just two swings and a metal merry-go-round that burned your hands in the summer. Now it had the kind of structures you’d see at some fancy private school.
The contrast between what I remembered and how it was now burned in my gut. The changes, all for the better, should have happened to Sara too. She should have grown up around all this, she should be sitting here cramming for finals.
The room suddenly felt too small. I pushed out of the chair and started back toward the doors. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a blond braid to my right. She was bent over a book and was writing something down in a notebook. When I did a double take, I knew in a second who it was.
What were the chances?
Her head was still down, so I started to walk past her table. Of course she looked up. Her eyes went wide and I heard her pen clink on the table.
“Are you following me?” she demanded in a hissed-out whisper.
“Yeah, I parked outside your house, then followed you to the library. You got me.”
Her cheeks turned pink, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. I tried not to notice the way her tongue dipped out and rubbed where she’d just bitten. That worked about as well as ignoring a pink elephant in a tutu.
“Yeah, that was a pretty dumb question,” she said. “I had a rough night, not thinking clearly, obviously.” I moved closer to avoid the glares being sent our way by several nearby people. I kept getting whiffs of her perfume, and that wasn’t distracting at all.
I could do this. Get through one conversation without being an ass. I shifted the book under my arm, and her gaze shot to it.
“The Art of War? You read?” The surprise in her voice pretty much killed any desire to be nice. She could not have been any more condescending if she accused me of being illiterate.
“Usually I only like them there picture books, but decided to try one with actual words,” I said with a sneer. “Jesus, you’re a piece of work.” Before she could say a thing, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room.
What a bitch.
Screw her. If I wanted to damn well read every book in the place, I would. The library in prison was pretty sparse, but I’d read a bunch of classics to pass the time. I might not be able to have some great literary discussion, but I knew who the hell Dickens and Shakespeare were.
It took me fifteen minutes to sign up for a library card and finally get out of the place, and not once did I see a hint of a blond braid anywhere near the circulation desk.
Yeah, I got it. Loud and clear.
If she looked at me one more time, I was going to fucking explode.
You read?
Seriously?
First thing Monday morning, I started in. If she was going to be a bitch, then I was going to give it right back. It was easy to make comments under my breath when I walked by, or shoot a glare her way every few minutes. By Tuesday, she was throwing pissed-off glances back at me. By Thursday, I was doing it more to see her eyes flash and her breathing get faster. Fuck me if she wasn’t the sexiest thing alive when she was mad.
This new level of antagonism was backfiring on my ass.
I stabbed a McDonald’s bag extra hard.
“You two got a thing going on?” Ian asked me. He looked over to where Avery stood, glaring at me again. “She hasn’t stopped shooting lasers at your back all day, man.”
“Nah, I barely know the chick. I think she might be a littl
e crazy. You know why she’s here?” I asked him.
Ian shook his head. “Nope. You?”
“Not a clue. Maybe she stole her daddy’s credit card and bought out Gucci or something.”
Ian snickered. Everyone knew Avery drove here in a fucking Beemer every day. I saw her eyes get narrower, and I stared right back so that she’d know we were talking about her. I swore I could see steam coming out of her ears, and it only made me grin harder.
“Uh-oh,” Ian said a second before I realized Avery was stomping her sexy little orange-covered ass straight toward me. “I’m outta here. She kinda scares me, man.”
Avery stormed up and stopped only when we were toe to toe. She squinted against the sun and glared up at me. “What the hell is your problem?”
“No problem, Princess.” I stared down at her, refusing to look away. She reminded me of a pissed-off kitten, which made me grin, which only made her madder.
If Ryan were next to me, he’d be asking what the fuck I was doing. I honestly had no idea. At first I had genuinely not liked her, especially after I found out who, or what, she really was.
But damn me if my pulse didn’t jump every time I looked at her. Especially when she was all flushed and wound up like this. Another image, one of her naked on her back, with that same look on her face, reared up unbidden, and I felt my muscles jerk tight.
Shit.
Avery planted her fists on her hips and stamped her foot. “Why can’t we just ignore each other? Civilized disregard? Mutual inattention?”
What the hell was civilized disregard? It sounded like some kind of legal term. I lifted one eyebrow and kept quiet, waiting to see what was next. God, I loved watching her like this. And goading her was the surest way to send her over the top.
She huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes. “Yes, okay, I was a total bitch at the library. You took me by surprise and I was hungover and I acted without thinking. I’m sorry and I hope you’re enjoying Sun Tzu because it’s a really good read, but it’s more than that. It’s the condescending tone in your voice whenever you actually talk to me, or that stupid way you lift one eyebrow and smirk whenever I say anything. You make me feel like an idiot, you know.”