by Hall, S. E.
Fuck.
“Evan.” I snap my head back to Jenee, who puts a hand on my arm and speaks. “Why is she not the one here with you tonight?”
Is there a right answer to this question? This feels suspiciously like a trick question that probably ends with another blast of cold water to my face. I’m being reeled in by the elusive female mind, begging me to trap myself right into a smacking or glass of ice cold water to the face.
But no, as I look for her tell, the twitch of an eye, flare of a nostril…I sense only empathy in Jenee’s soft voice and gentle touch on my arm.
Still, I have to go on instinct.
“She’s just a friend. I’m having a great time with you.”
Not a total lie. As far as recent dates go, this girl wins hands down.
“Good answer,” Sawyer says in a cough.
Jenee darts her eyes to him, warning him to butt out, then turns her warm, understanding brown eyes back to me. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
“Absolutely.” I rise, helping her with her chair before pulling out my wallet. “Will you wait and pay, Saw?” I ask as I toss money down on the table.
“On it. You kids have fun now.” He salutes us with a shit-eating grin.
“Nice to meet you, Hailey,” I offer as sincerely as possible. Truth is, she’d offered little to the evening except exhibitionism.
“Bye,” she giggles before smothering herself in Sawyer’s neck, our exit obviously her green light to resume festivities.
I usher Jenee out with a hand to her back, and once outside realize we’d arrived in separate cars.
“Did you want to do something else, or—”
“Evan,” she raises a hand to my cheek, “let’s just have some fun, hmm? How about a drink, some dancing?”
“Sure, where’d you have in mind?”
I know of exactly two bars, and while my I.D. is pretty legit, how embarrassing would it be to get turned away in front of her?
Safe bet it is.
“Ya know what? I know just the place. Let’s take my truck.” With that, I nudge her and lead us to where I parked, helping her up into the beast. Her skirt tightens as she climbs in, offering a fantastic view that I genetically appreciate.
Once settled, her long legs cross at the ankle. “Thank you,” she says smoothly, adjusting her skirt.
“Of course,” I answer, shutting the door and moving quickly to climb in my side.
“You know The K?” I ask her, once in the truck.
“Yes,” she snickers.
“Oh, ok. That good then?”
“Wonderful.”
I’m missing something, I think. I’m not much of a talker, so the ride could be silent and it wouldn’t bother me any, but Jenee is of a different opinion.
“Do you go to The K often, Evan?”
“I wouldn’t say often, but when I do go out, it’s usually there.”
“So you don’t go out much?”
“Not really. I like a cold beer as much as the next guy, but I’m not big on the club scene. You?”
“I love to go out, especially to dance. That’s what I want to do one day, dance professionally, in a big city.” Her voice lifts, like she’s dreaming of just that while she says it. “I’m GM of a gym right now, but just to pay the bills.”
Good for her. Everyone needs a dream, but as if I didn’t know before, it’s settled; Jenee and I will only ever be friends. You will never get me to live in a big, ritzy city, hobnobbing with the elite, clubbing for exposure with famous artists. No, sir.
I probably don’t have to think so deep into first dates and could just go with the flow and have some casual fun, but casual and Evan Allen aren’t familiar. Parker had nailed it on the head—I’m a romantic. Take it or leave it.
We’re here, so I help her out of the truck and hold her arm as we walk in. Something about girls in stilt heels just screams “face plant” to me. The place is packed, loud beats vibrating the walls as hard as the bodies on the floor.
“You want a drink?” I try not to yell at her.
She bobs her head up and down. “Bay Breeze, extra pineapple please.”
“You okay here or you wanna get a table first?” I again have to almost scream in her ear.
“I’m gonna dance. You grab a table and come find me, k?”
I nod, hating that plan. God knows we should stick together, but she’s sober, and we’re not cozy enough for me to be bossing her around… No, I just can’t do it. I catch up to her, grabbing her elbow.
“Jenee, why don’t you come with me to the bar, then we’ll wander together?”
“Aren’t you the sweetest thing?” She kisses my cheek and pats my chest. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“All right,” I begrudgingly concede, walking away slowly, trying to keep her in my sights as long as possible, which isn’t long once she moves herself into the middle of the pack on the dance floor.
The bar is packed. I’ve never seen it quite like this in here, and I’d bet money at least three fire codes are being broken right now. When I get close enough, the line barley creeping, I see Tate tending, sweat rolling down the sides of his face. And scrambling beside him, actually running into him and dropping stuff more than actually serving any drinks, is Zach. Ah, this is too good, I cross my arms and watch in amusement.
“What can I get—oh, Evan, thank Christ!” Zach is extremely happy to see me. “Text or call Sawyer now, and tell him to get his ass down here! DJ Funky something, local celeb I guess, came in and took the tables. Look at this fucking place!”
“You guys okay?” Dane walks in behind the bar, frantically searching Tate and Zach’s reactions. “I’m closing the door, we’re well at max.”
“Good!” Tate yells over his shoulder at him. “Start paying people to go home! And where the hell is Sawyer?”
“I’ll find Sawyer!” I assure them.
Dane’s head jerks to me now. “Evan, hey, how are you? Yeah, if you could track down Sawyer, that’d be great. You guys good, Tate, or you need stocked?”
“I don’t know what we need, haven’t had time to look. How’s Bennett? You’d better have somebody watching them!” He scowls, concentrating on drink slinging but clearly waiting for Dane’s confirmation.
“I put Brock on them, they’re fine. I’ll check stock. Evan,” I look up from my phone at Dane, “you got Sawyer? I need him down here ten minutes ago. Then can you go help watch the girls? Drinks on me, man, I’d appreciate your help.”
No way am I drinking now. I have to herd in Sawyer and watch a bunch of girls we all care about in this crowd; I need my wits about me. “Yeah, I’m on both. Where are they?”
He points. “Table by the stabilizer pole. Look for Brock, big bald dude in a neon shirt, says ‘Security’ on the back.”
I affirm with my head jerk, turning to fight the crowd. I hadn’t forgotten Jenee’s drink, I just don’t care anymore. I know one of “the girls” is Laney, and I don’t like this shit one bit. Surely she doesn’t either, this place is a madhouse.
The big ass bald dude is not as easy to spot as one might think. Neon shirt, nope, not jumping out at me, either. Laney sitting at a table plugging her ears…bingo! I touch her arm and she jumps, her mouth open and eyes bulging for only a moment as she realizes it’s me.
“Evan!” She leaps up to hug me, a stranglehold around my ribs.
Something rips me back, her falling away from me, and I flip around to see…a big ass bald dude.
“Can I help you?” he growls, lip snarled.
“Brock,” Laney grips his arm, “he’s fine. He’s my friend. Let go!”
The big man, who would eat Sawyer’s lunch like a snack pack, and that’s saying something, releases his death grip with a skeptical glare. “Don’t need to handle Mr. Kendrick’s lady.”
“Oh, Brock, stop! Go find the other three, I’m fine.” Laney pushes him, not that it moves him, but bless her heart for trying. “Where’s your date?” She turns and asks me
, brows scrunched.
“How’d you know I had a date?”
“Whitley may have mentioned it.” She shrugs.
What? Whitley called her? Or—No!
“Is Whitley here?” Just like that, my chest seizes and I see red. It’s something completely different than what I felt when I knew I was searching for Laney in this mob, and I’ll contemplate that later. Right now all I want to do is lay hands on Whitley.
“Yes, she’s out there somewhere,” she waves her hand toward the dance floor, “with Avery and Bennett. She’s fine, Evan.” She rolls her eyes at me, but then gives me a knowing smile just as fast.
Leave Laney alone and go find Whitley or stay here? Well, if this isn’t the proverbial crossroads staring me in the face I don’t know what is. My decision, already made, shocks and excites me in ways that give me hope and chest pains at the same time.
I think somewhere in my own deepest recesses, I knew already, but this makes it so…like the Psalms… I have truly turned the corner and emerged alive and well on the other side. It’s like I had an epiphany—my number one priority has been realized and I feel alive.
Luckily, Brock hasn’t strayed far or taken at least one corner of one eye off Laney, so I motion him over.
“Can you stay with her? I’ll go find the others!” I yell ask him.
“Hmm,” he grunts, moving closer to Laney.
“Don’t move,” I tell her before weaving my way into the mass.
Arms are waving, there’s pushing, grinding, and people actually falling on the ground. I am never gonna find anyone in this nightmare, and honestly, I have a hint of vertigo setting in. Fuck this—I push, trying to make sure it’s not into any ladies, my way to the DJ stand and climb it.
Holding on to the edge of the booth with one hand, I use the other to bang on the wood, getting Funky Fresh Jam’s attention. “Gimme your mic!” I yell in his face.
“Shoot, get on,” he dismisses me with a snort and brush of his hand.
“Dane, the owner, is my boy and he sent me. Now gimme the mic!” This time I’ve already grabbed the neck of the mic stand, curling it around to me. “Turn down the music!”
He complies, flipping some switches, and the crowd stops cold, boos starting to rise through the silence.
“Listen up!” I gulp, summoning the courage for this totally unlike me grandiose display. “Whitley Suzanne, raise your hand!”
That was okay right? I mean, I didn’t want to announce her last name, but I also didn’t want to summon any other Whitleys, so I went with her middle name. Surely there’s not two Whitley Suzannes in the crowd.
My eyes run the crowd until finally, I see a little hand pop up, followed by a “Hi, Evan!” squeal from her.
“Hi, Whit.” I laugh in the mic, relief starting to seep in and restore my blood pressure to normal. “Grab Avery and Bennett and meet at the table, woman. Now, please.”
“Okay, Evan!” she yells back in all her preciousness. I can’t see her, but I can hear her smile.
“And Jenee, wherever you are,” her hand pops up from my right, “can you come here?”
The crowd remains still and silent, seeming content to watch my show, and I see them part for Jenee’s.
“Very impressive,” she says loudly, smiling up at me where I still hang, one armed, from the DJ booth.
I‘m rather impressed myself.
“I need to take some friends home. This place is too crazy. You ready?”
“Come down, let these people dance and we’ll decide.”
Right, good plan.
“Thanks, man. Gimme a two minute head start before you start the music?” I beg him.
“Bet.” He tries to high five me, realizing I’m using one hand to hold on and one to hold the mic, slapping the air instead with a laugh.
I hand him his mic and jump down, grabbing Jenee’s hand to pull her with me through the growingly antsy sea of people. Whitley, Avery and Bennett are waiting at the table, as is Dane, his arm around Laney and a coy grin splitting his face.
“Nice work,” he greets me.
“Sawyer make it in?” I hadn’t had a chance to check my phone, so I have no idea if he’d gotten my messages and I’d accomplished that goal.
“Yeah, he just got here. He’s behind the bar now, so I sent Brock to the door. Thanks for the help.”
“Everyb—” The music starts up, so I try again, in a much louder voice. “Everybody, this is Jenee.”
“Hi.” She waves at them all then smiles at Dane. “Hey, Dane.”
Dane’s staring at the floor while Laney’s staring at him, and I’m done caring, back to staring at Whitley, who’s staring at Jenee.
“Um, okay, I’ll go first.” Bennett moves to the center of the group cheerily. “Jenee, I’m Bennett. My roommate is Laney,” she points to Laney, “girlfriend of Dane, that you know…how?” She follows up with a smile as sweet as syrup.
“I work for him,” is what I think she said, but we’re yelling over bebop noise and a wailing mosh pit again, so I can’t be sure.
“Oh, that’s nice.” Bennett’s shoulders relax. “That makes perfect sense. So you may know my boyfriend, Tate, his brother.”
“I do.” Jenee lifts her hair with one hand and fans herself with the other. “So,” she turns into me and almost yells, “I’m gonna stay. I have a huge group of friends here, I’ll be fine. You go tend to your girl. It was a pleasure, Evan.” She chastely kisses where my ear and face meet. “Nice to meet you all. Bye, Boss.” And with that, she’s sucked up into the dance vortex once again.
“Okay!” Bennett claps. “Avery, let’s go sit at the bar with Tate. I’m sure that’s where Zach is.”
Dane grabs Laney’s hand. “We’re out.”
“Bye, Evan, thank you!” Laney rolls her fingers and darts her eyes to Whitley then back to me, throwing me a wink of her own.
It reminds me, before the mayhem, that Laney and I were best friends; always in each other’s corner. And she just said, “Go get her, Ev. Be happy,” with a look. We were back.
Don’t mind if I do, friend, don’t mind if I do.
She won’t hear me, a good seven feet between us, so I wait patiently until Whitley’s big sapphires meet my radar on her, and point. Turning my finger over slowly and crooking it, I beckon her over, fighting any give on my face.
Chewing her bottom lip the whole way, she slinks over to me. “Hi, Evan, how are you?” Her words are breathy, tone hopeful.
“Not so great, pretty girl. You scared me, again. I don’t like feeling that you’re in danger and I can’t stop it. Where’s your date?”
She opens her mouth, but I place two of my fingers over it gently, no longing giving two shits where her date is. “You know what, hold that thought. Let’s get out of here; my eardrums are bleeding.”
No argument or agreement, no “let me say bye to…” No question in her eyes. Her tiny hand slips into mine and I squeeze, fighting our way to the door, her body tucked tightly, safely, against mine.
***
“Where’s your date?” I ask again. Okay, I do still give a shit and nothing would make me happier than to hear she’d left him in there, alone, to leave with me.
“Nosey,” she grumbles under her breath, looking out her window as we sit in my truck.
I haven’t started it yet. I’m kind of just enjoying sitting here, knowing she’s within arm’s length and secure. There’s nowhere else I need to be.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” I tease, reaching over to tickle her side.
“Stop,” she squirms and snickers, “I said you were nosey, Nosey. Where’s your date?”
“You saw her walk away. She stayed there ‘cause she knew I had other things to take care of.” I wiggle my fingers, threatening to tickle her again. “Now spill, woman.”
“Okay!” She scoots as close to her door as she can. “He wasn’t my date, if you must know.”
Oh, I must know.
“And?” I want
her to keep talking.
“Thad works for my father. He was sent to discuss the changes my family will be facing. It seems my parents are liquidating certain things in preparation for an,” she makes air quotes with her fingers, “‘amicable division of assets.’”
“Your parents are getting divorced?”
“So it seems.” Her face is sullen, eyes downcast.
“And they sent a suit to tell you?”
She nods, the movement causing a tear to fall from beneath the veil of her hair onto her leg.
I can’t take seeing her so sad yet trying to be strong, stoic, hiding her pain from me. I slide across the seat in one motion, wrapping my arms around her. She curls into me and her body shakes as her sobs grow louder.
“Shhh, I got you,” I whisper against her soft hair that tickles my lips. “You don’t have to be the happy, strong one all the time, Whit. Let me have a turn to hold you up.”
Her head lifts off my chest, nose pink and eyes shiny. “There’s no way I’m as good at being your rock. Am I?”
I scoff. She has no idea. “All the damn time, woman.”
She grins slightly. “Well, you bring out the best in me.”
“Right back atcha, pretty girl.” I wink down at her, earning me another smile.
100% success rate—still undefeated with the wink.
“So, I guess that’s what happened with your beach house? But splitting money doesn’t mean you don’t have any, so why foreclosure?”
What the fuck, Evan? Why are you asking shit, making her examine the details?
“Sorry, Whit, just thinking out loud, nevermind.”
“It’s okay,” she says through sniffles. “I’m not involved, obviously, since my parents sent a messenger rather than talk to me themselves, but I know my father. My guess is, he let them ‘take,’” air quote fingers again, “the house so she doesn’t get claim on it, but I’d bet anything he buys that cheaply priced, foreclosed property back under a business name.”
Sneaky. And maybe illegal?
“Damn, that’s some diabolical shit. What about your tuition?”
Again, Evan, stfu.
“That’s fine, covered and paid. My house too, paid for and now in my name. ”