I had to hand it to her, though; she did have incredible radar when it came to single men and quickly horned in on the only men in the room who weren’t here with dates—namely Zane, Piper, and Ash. And immediately got her flirt on. I could hear her loud, ingratiating laugh across the room. And I definitely saw her hands all over Zane, seeking out places the sun didn’t shine. Even he looked slightly uncomfortable.
Wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Zane Traynor uncomfortable.
Ash, on the other hand, seemed to think my mom was a riot, and before long, they were doing shots together.
It really didn’t help my outlook for this event.
When Brody told us it was time to put our asses in our seats, we all found our little handmade place cards with our names on them and sat.
It was the first time I’d actually been close to Piper. He’d been out on the patio dealing with the turkey most of the time and drinking beers with Brody, and as soon as he’d walked into the party room, my mom had cornered him by the Christmas tree and peppered him with questions about his Kings cut, which he was wearing over a black sweater. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d seen Piper without his cut; it was kind of like a second skin.
Jude definitely hadn’t worn his to Christmas Eve dinner.
“Everyone just dig in while it’s warm,” Brody instructed, “and pass shit around. We’ll do a toast and stuff later.”
Fine by me. The fuller my mouth was with food, the less I’d have to make small talk with Piper, and the sooner I could get the meal over with and maybe go snuggle up with Jude under the mistletoe.
“Merry Christmas,” I said, as we both sat down.
“Merry Christmas…” Piper said, kinda narrowing his eyes.
“Roni,” I supplied. Sweet baby Jesus, did he actually forget my name?
“Roni.” He smiled a little, and I had no idea what he was thinking. Hopefully it didn’t involve a kitchen counter. “I was gonna say Veronica, right? Ben’s girl.”
Right. So that’s what he was thinking.
“Yes, Veronica,” I said. “And no, not Ben’s girl.”
I glanced at Jude. I was on Piper’s left, and Jude was seated across from him and two over to the right. Between my mom, on his right, and Brody, who was at the head of the table. Definitely not so far away he couldn’t hear us if he wanted to, even though my mom seemed to be talking his ear off already.
He was looking right at me.
“You were seein’ him for a while, few years back,” Piper said. He passed me the cranberry sauce, and I daubed a bit of it onto my plate.
“I was. Many years back. How is he?”
“Good. He’s moved back from Kelowna.”
“I didn’t even know he was living there.”
Damn. Couldn’t he make conversation with Maggie? I glanced past him, but Maggie was chatting with Dylan, on her other side.
I could feel the weight of Jude’s gaze. I glanced at him and smiled, and mouthed, Yams, pointing at the bowl of yams, then at myself. I’d made them and they were awesome, whipped with butter and nutmeg, cloves and cinnamon. I’d gotten the simple recipe from Jessa, and I was thrilled it had turned out perfectly.
Jude’s mouth quirked in a tiny smile and he reached for the bowl of yams.
“So,” Piper said as I filled my plate. “You seein’ my little brother now?”
“Define seeing.”
And little? I wasn’t sure Jude Grayson could be referred to as little in any context.
Piper cracked a smile and his gorgeous dimples popped. So like his brother’s. Other than their physiques—though Piper was bigger—their damn gorgeous smiles were the most similar things about them.
“Seein’ as in seein’ him next to you when you wake up in the morning feelin’ satisfied.”
“Yeah.” I looked up into his blue eyes. “Something like that.”
“Yeah? You seein’ anyone else like that?”
Seriously? He was questioning my loyalty? My intentions with his brother?
Right here and now?
And why was it starting to make me sweat?
It definitely wasn’t because I’d had sex with him. The fact was, I’d had sex with three men at this table. (Him, Jude and Zane.) I’d made out with two others, too. (Dylan and Ash.) I was really no stranger to sex, casual or otherwise.
It wasn’t even the fear that he might say something awful and out-of-line to me, right now.
It was the fear that he might say something awful about me—to Jude. That maybe he didn’t approve of me. That he might somehow turn Jude against me or something. That this was why Jude didn’t want to take me to parties at the clubhouse.
Because Piper might be bothered that I’d once screwed him, and was now screwing his brother?
When I looked at Jude again, he was watching Piper, who was saying to me, “Heard you been rollin’ with the Sinners.”
When I glanced at Piper again, he definitely wasn’t smiling anymore. And I definitely got the feeling he hadn’t learned that information from Jude.
I swallowed the lump of turkey and yams that was in my mouth.
“The turkey’s fantastic,” I told him. “Really juicy.”
“I asked you a question.”
“No. You didn’t. It was definitely more of an accusatory statement.”
“You bangin’ any Sinners? That’s what I’m askin’, case it wasn’t clear.”
“The fuck?” That was Jude, from across the table, and the conversation around us kinda died down. He and Piper locked eyes. “Pipe, lay off.” That was pretty much a growl, so yeah, he’d definitely heard what Piper said to me.
Piper kinda chuckled next to me but he went back to his food, as did I, and gradually everyone else did, too.
I chatted a little with Seth on my other side, asked him how the new album had turned out, that kind of thing. The next time I dared look up, my mom and Ash, who were sitting at basically opposite ends of the table, were somehow doing shots together.
They got everyone else raising a toast, and Ash said something boozy about his love for everyone at the table. I really didn’t hear it all. I was looking at Jude, who was looking at his brother like he wanted to throttle him.
Then Brody took over the toasting and thanked us all for being here and all that good stuff, and we all cheered and drank.
Piper got talking with Maggie and I ate the rest of my meal in silence, occasionally joining into Jesse and Amber’s conversation across the table from me.
Everything seemed to be moving along decently well, and for a few short minutes I allowed myself to think we might actually get through this little Orphans’ Potluck without serious incident.
I made eye contact with Jessa, who was seated at the end of the table opposite from Brody, and smiled as if to say, See? No drama. She raised her cider to me as if to say, Thank Christ, and sipped.
Then things really fell apart.
Piper had turned back to me, and out of nowhere he said, “You look good.”
“Thank you.”
Then his blue eyes trailed right down my face and deep, deep into my cleavage, and he said, “Remember you.”
Oh, fuck.
Were we doing this?
Really?
His eyes met mine again. The scar down the side of his face made him look extra sinister in the twinkly Christmas lights, and the cranberry sauce and meat in my belly congealed into a brick of dread.
Sweet Jesus. I’d been so worried about my mom doing something horrific, I hadn’t even seen this coming.
“Noticed they got a decent kitchen counter in this place. Wonder if it’s seen any action lately.”
Holy. Fuck.
Did he just say that to me?
His face was pretty close to mine, and there was really no mistaking it. The words. The tone. The inference.
Was he actually coming on to me?
Or was he testing me? Checking to see if I’d actually screw him at this dinner party?
And screw over his brother?
I sipped my drink, just trying to stuff down the ugly anger and humiliation that was broiling up in me, sickening and quick.
No. He wouldn’t screw Jude like that.
I was pretty damn sure about that.
Which meant he was definitely testing me.
Or maybe Jude was testing me?
I glanced over at Jude. Was there any chance that he’d asked Piper to do this? Put me on the spot like this and test me?
Jude was staring at me, and he did not look happy. The volume of the noise around the table had risen as people gradually finished eating and started drinking more. I had no idea if he’d heard every word Piper just said to me or not.
“You want,” Piper said, right close to me, “we can go check it out. If memory serves, you were all too willing last time.”
“Pipe. Shut the fuck up.”
That was Jude.
“Just askin’, brother,” Piper said, returning his brother’s dead-eye look. “Can’t fault a guy for askin’.”
“Stop,” Jude growled.
“Stop what? Just makin’ conversation with your girl.”
“Stop talkin’ to Roni if you can’t show respect.”
“Guys…” Jesse said.
“Didn’t realize I needed your permission to talk to her, brother.”
“Maybe you guys want to discuss this outside,” Brody said evenly.
“Yeah. Fighting over a woman at the dinner table is so… gauche,” Ash said, and threw back another shot.
“Said the man wearing the shirt that says Jingle My Bells for a White Christmas,” Elle said dryly.
“Not another word,” Jude growled at his brother. “Or you can leave.”
“Jude…” I said, but he didn’t even seem to notice I’d spoken. I felt sick, horrified and humiliated, and he wouldn’t even look at me.
“Jude, man,” Jesse said. “Pipe, let’s go get some air.”
“You’re kiddin’ me,” Piper said, making no move to get up. He grinned at his brother, completely undaunted, ignoring Jesse. “You’re really sweet on her. Again.”
“Get the fuck up from the table before I make you.”
“Jude!” I slammed my fork down on my plate, and finally, he looked at me.
It was like a record had stopped, like the needle had scratched its way across the surface and everyone had gone stone silent.
Except that Dean Martin was still crooning out Christmas carols in the background.
I turned to Piper and asked him, very calmly, “What would you like me to do? Go back in time and unfuck all those other guys? You? Ben? Everyone I ever fucked but your brother?”
“Oh my goodness, Roni,” my mom slurred, as if I was embarrassing her. “Language…”
“I would, you know,” I went on, “if it meant I could have him. If it meant he’d stop holding it against me.”
Any lingering conversation or attempts to interject had completely died off. I wasn’t speaking loudly, but my voice sounded loud in the room.
I looked over at Jude. “Is that what you’d like me to do?” I asked him. “Magically change history so you can get over it?”
“Can we talk about this later?” he said, in a low but softer voice.
“No. I wasn’t a virgin when we first got together or even when we first met, and you knew that. You’re not exactly a virgin yourself. For all I know you’ve fucked ten times as many people as I have, but have I ever given you a hard time about it, even once? I haven’t. Because I don’t care. If you actually care about me and you’re done fucking other people, I don’t care about your past.”
We sat there facing off across the table. In utter, uncomfortable silence.
Dean Martin crooned away.
Someone cleared his throat. Dylan, maybe.
Baby Nick squealed and started crying in his bassinet, and Jessa hurried to attend to him.
“Holy fuck,” Zane said. “Please. Someone tell a dick or fart joke, quick.”
Maggie sighed.
Jude said nothing.
I tossed my snowflake napkin on the table and walked out.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Roni
I grabbed my jacket and boots and pulled them on, but I didn’t head out the front door. Nothing that dramatic.
I just went upstairs, all the way up to the second floor and down the hall to Jessa’s writing room. The room Brody had furnished and decorated for her with such love. I pushed through the glass door to the rooftop patio and walked the length of it in the cold.
Snow was falling, but just in sparse, floaty flakes.
I stood by the fire, which wasn’t lit, and starred into the little pile of burnt wood feeling sick about that whole ugly scene. Fucking Piper.
And Jude… Jude was so damn private about his personal stuff… and here I’d just gone and spilled all our private shit right in front of his friends.
I wasn’t sure what to do or say to smooth things over or whatever.
I wanted him to stop holding me at arm’s length, treating me like I was just his fuck buddy and all that crap. Tell me and everyone else how much he actually cared about me, if he did. If he really wanted me to be his.
Or maybe just let me fucking go if he didn’t.
I also wanted his brother to eat a bag of dicks.
Was there a Christmas card for that? Because Piper Grayson sure deserved one.
I heard footsteps squishing in the inch of snow on the patio and turned to find Jude coming toward me. He’d followed me out from the writing room.
“Sorry,” I sighed, because of all things, I really didn’t want to fight with him, no matter how upset I was. “For, you know, causing a scene.”
“Yeah.” He stopped a few very generous feet from me and put his hands in his pockets. Not a good sign. “I’m not a real fan of that. But from where I was lookin’, my brother started it.”
“Are you really so upset because I had sex with him? I get that he’s your brother, but it happened a decade ago. I was young. Didn’t we both do stupid shit when we were young?”
I stared him down, because for fucking sure he did stupid shit when he was young. Like telling me we aren’t goin’ down that road and pushing me away as if I meant nothing to him, because I’d fucked his brother.
When he didn’t speak, I went on. “Yes, I pursued him for a year. And then he fucked me on the kitchen counter at a party, okay? And that was it.”
“I know.”
Oh.
I really didn’t know he knew any details about that.
“Well, then… maybe you also know that he blew me off right afterward,” I said. “Made it clear he wasn’t interested in me. And believe me, with that move, I wasn’t interested in him anymore either. But yes, your brother touched me. I mean, whatever cooties he left on me are probably long gone by now, but does that make me used goods or something? Forever? Am I just too dirty for you?”
“You’re not dirty, Roni.”
“Then what’s the problem? Why am I being accosted by your brother at Christmas dinner?”
He shook his head. “I’m gonna talk to him about that. He’s got no business—”
“Yeah, he does,” I said. “If he really thinks he’s looking out for you. Saying the shit to me that you should be saying yourself.”
He drew a deep breath.
“If you’ve got a problem with me, Jude, you need to just say it already.”
I hugged myself against the cold as he stared at me.
“You think it’s about the guys you’ve been with,” he said, slowly. “It’s not. It used to be about that. It’s not about that anymore.”
“Then what is it about?”
He was silent for a moment as the little flakes of snow fluttered down between us, just looking at me.
Then he said, “I once saw Brody’s dad punch him.”
I stared at him, stunned and a little confused. “What?”
He looked away. “He tried to p
unch him. Took a swing. A good swing. But Brody was sixteen and pretty built by then, so you can guess how that turned out for his dad.”
“Yeah…” I said, hugging myself tighter. “I guess.”
Jude’s dark eyes met mine again. “I know kids are abused every day, Roni. I’ve seen abuse. I’ve seen violence. I’ve caused violence. But I’ve never seen a more disturbing abuse of power than a grown man who should’ve been a father figure and a protector physically shoving a teenage girl away from him and out the door of her own damn house like she was nothing to him, shoving her down the stairs and shuttin’ that door in her face.”
As he spoke, tingles skittered through my body in a slow, slow shiver. And it wasn’t from the cold. I really wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Not exactly. I didn’t remember, exactly. But I knew.
I knew he was talking about me.
“I know you were pushed around,” he said. “I saw your mom’s boyfriend shove you out that door. And right in front of Jessa.” He took a step closer to me and stopped. “Maybe there was worse abuse than that. Maybe you’ll tell me about it sometime. That’s up to you. But what I saw that day… it was enough to stay with me for the rest of my damn life. To shape how I saw you, what I thought about you and how I felt about you. But I still can’t imagine how it felt for you.”
I was speechless. Totally stunned.
I had no idea he’d ever seen anything like that or knew a thing about what went on in my home. Of all the things I’d ever confided in him, that was not one of them.
“I don’t remember that,” I confessed. It wasn’t something I’d ever really talked about. But I was grown-up now; I could talk about it, with him. “There were other times. I don’t even remember that specific time, that’s how many times there were.”
Yes, kids were abused. I was one of them. But the abuse was never severe. I rarely went to school with hidden bruises. Not all of my mom’s boyfriends were cruel to me. It didn’t affect me long-term. It didn’t inform my choices with men, the types of men I chose or how they treated me… And there were a million other excuses I made to convince myself that it wasn’t that bad, it didn’t matter, it didn’t mark me. I wasn’t eternally damaged. It was in the past.
Dirty Like Jude: A Dirty Rockstar Romance (Dirty, Book 5) Page 28