by TC Matson
Four pints of ice cream—Bunny Tracks, Everything But The…, Cookie Dough, and Half Baked. One apple pie—Aimee’s favorite. And a box of brownies I’ll make when I get there. For dinner, I got easy things to make, like pizza pigs in a blanket and everything for homemade mashed potato bowls just like KFC but better.
My phone dings as I’m heading for the cashier.
Shyla: There’s no wine and we have nothing to drink in the morning.
Me: Perfect timing. I was about to leave. I’ll get wine and orange juice.
We’re determined to get her through this even if it means we gain twenty pounds in the process. After grabbing the orange juice, I make my way to the heaven of wine sections and grab two bottles of Sangiovese before heading back to the cashier. My phone dings again and as I look down to answer it, my name is called by a familiar voice.
Like a damn deer in headlights, I freeze, eyes wide as I grip the cart handle for dear life. All my cognitive thoughts exit and leave me dumbfounded.
Nathan chuckles and it snaps me to reality. Why all of a sudden is he everywhere I am? Is he stalking me?
“What are you doing here?” I ask, sounding offended that he’s in front of me.
His brows raise, the smile still playing on his perfect lips. “I live down the road. This is the grocery store I shop at.”
I roll my eyes like a bitch. “You? You do the shopping? I figured you had some minion do it for you,” I sneer like a tee-total immature bitch.
There’s a flint of anger in his gaze, but the smile doesn’t falter. “Contrary to what you believe, I can also wipe my own ass.”
“Good for you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go.” I start pushing past him, but he steps back out in front of me.
“How have you been?”
I glare at him. “Good.” The word slices between my clenched teeth.
He studies me with concern and the more he does, the more my anger crumbles into the sea of guilt for acting the way I am. I sigh. “Seriously, I’m good. But I’m in a rush. We’re in the middle of Operation Heartbreak and you’re standing in my way. I need to get back to Aimee before the ice cream melts.”
Sympathy falls on his expression. “Is she okay?”
“She will be. Her shitty boyfriend blindsided us all because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Men? Am I right?”
I’m such an idiot.
He moves out from in front of me. “It was good seeing you.”
I give a nod without a word and rush past him, being smacked in the face by his cologne. It causes a cold chill to run the length of my spine. Stupid sexy smelling men.
I’m tossing everything in the back seat of my car when a bouquet of pretty colorful assorted daises are put in my face. “Give these to her for me, please. Hopefully it’ll bring a smile to her face.”
Confounded, I look to Nathan as I take them from him. “Okay.” My one word rides out sounding more like a question.
But he doesn’t stick around. He nods and walks away.
I look at the flowers, debating whether I should put them on my roof and forget they’re there when I drive off, but instead, I clench my jaw and put them in my passenger seat.
Angry jealousy. That’s what I’m experiencing. I’m angry because he hurt me and jealous because I miss getting flowers from him.
Just when my thoughts aren’t all about him, he pops back up and makes sure they are. Damn him.
FIFTEEN
I’m a man willing to fix his mistakes and with Brooklyn I have to get creative. I fucked up and hurt her, unintentionally of course, but for a woman, hurt is hurt regardless of the intent.
Brooklyn intrigues me. She’s a strong woman with independence embedded into her soul. Not to sound like an arrogant ass, but I’ve never met a woman who can walk away from me. Brooklyn’s done it multiple times. Most women like to throw themselves my way, purposely stumbling into me to catch my attention.
Note to all women: Don’t seem desperate. It’s a huge turn-off.
But Brooklyn isn’t typical, something I failed to take notice of initially. Her integrity is the sexiest damn thing about her apart from her eyes, lips and strong mind.
I’m stooping low this time, using Aimee’s breakup as a way to reach out to her.
Me: How’s Aimee?
I watch as the dots pop up and disappear several times before staying up and getting a response.
Brooklyn: Today is better. Ice cream for the win. She thanks you for the flowers.
Me: Can I take you to lunch today? Give you a breather?
Brooklyn: Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather comfort my friend.
Me: Can I have food delivered for you all?
Brooklyn: No. We have everything covered.
I can hear the attitude in her texts.
Me: Very well. Let me know if you need anything.
Brooklyn: Nothing from you is needed.
I love that she writes her own rules and isn’t afraid to follow them.
I push away from my desk, unable to concentrate on the work in front of me, and dial Cody instead.
“You up for a run?” I ask.
“Does the popcorn flavored jelly bean taste like a buttered fart?”
Cracking up, I slip on my black gym shorts and pull my shirt over my head. “What the hell, man?” I say with a laugh.
“I can be there in twenty,” he says.
“See you then.”
I park in the lot a block and half away from the park in front of Synergenis. We do this so on the way back we can grab a post workout drink. It gives us that one last push when we need it the most. Not even thirty seconds later, Cody’s white sporty Durango pulls up beside me and he hops out.
We stretch our legs and then push off.
“You’re coming to Mom’s birthday cookout. Right?” Cody asks.
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. That’s next weekend, right?”
“You got it. I had Patricia put it on your calendar so your sorry ass wouldn’t miss it this year,” he says with a laugh.
“I didn’t do it on purpose last year.”
“I know. Business called. You think Claire will make it?”
I shake my head. “Doubt it. She’s working on a project for Michael that has her traveling to different states to check out places to film.”
My sister has a spectacular career as the assistant to producer and director Michael Chandler and a location scout. When she’s not in the studios working, she’s out traveling the world researching and photographing perfect places for scenes.
“She tell you what this movie is about?” he asks.
I tighten my lips. “Some action flick is all she gave me.”
The path we run gives us five miles with an added mile to and from our vehicles. Keeping a steady pace, we’re able to complete it in forty-five minutes to an hour, depending on how much talking we do. Today, we talked too damn much, but it was needed and helped get shit off my mind.
After grabbing our protein shakes, we walk out of Synergenis and toward our vehicles when I spot Brooklyn’s car a few stores down. The back door as well as the trunk are open. She comes out of the store with her arms stretched wide carrying flat cardboard boxes and shoves them into her back seat before retreating back into the store.
“Isn’t that…” Cody trails off.
“Yeah,” I reply making a beeline to her.
She comes back out, shoves the boxes into her trunk and slams it shut. Just as she does, her eyes land on me. “You’ve got to be kidding me?” she groans looking to the sky.
I hum a chuckle. Her mouth says one thing, but those beautiful espresso eyes of hers shimmer with happiness.
“I’m seriously beginning to believe you’re stalking me,” she says with an attitude.
I hold up my protein shake. “Post run tradition. We do it weekly.” I look to the boxes in her back seat. “Planning on moving closer?”
She exhales a laugh as her face pinches in d
isgust. “Yeah, right. It’s too richy here. Aimee has transitioned into the pissed staged and we’re packing everything of her ex-boyfriend’s for her to toss out the door. Anger therapy.” She lifts a shoulder with sadness in her eyes.
“Sounds like you need anger therapy too,” Cody interjects with a sly smirk. “Can I take you to dinner tonight? Maybe go dancing to alleviate some of that pent-up anger?”
My eyes, full of fury, cut to Cody. What the fuck?
Her brows slant angrily as her upper lip curls up. “Is this some twisted game between you two?” she snaps bitterly.
Cody holds up one hand in surrender, the other still holding his cup. “No. Not at all. Dumbass screwed up his chances, so he has no say so on what I can do. I’d like to have a chance to help you with that anger.” He winks.
I’m going to murder him.
Her vexation melts away…slightly. It’s still in her eyes. “I’d love to, but I can’t. I need to be with my friend.” She flicks her view to me for a brief second. “Maybe one day next week?”
My jaw is so tightly clenched, my teeth hurt.
“You have my number. Call me.”
She turns her attention back to me. “Are there any more places you’re going to pop up between now and tomorrow morning? I’d like to be forewarned of where I should be staying away from.”
Stepping closer to her and away from Cody, I bend, placing my mouth beside her ear. “Don’t be vindictive. Although you’re sexy as fuck mad, it’s not in your heart. I don’t know why you fight our attraction so adamantly, but I promise you I’ll have my chance again. And this time, I won’t screw up.”
“What makes you so sure?” she breathes.
“Because I want to right my wrongs,” I whisper before straightening up and peering down at her. “And after that kiss, we both know what’s there.”
A shiver visibly runs down her spine. Her eyes flutter.
I smirk, give her a wink and walk away without looking back or waiting on Cody. He catches up and falls into step beside me.
“What the fuck, man?” I sneer under my breath. “Are you trying to intentionally piss me the fuck off?”
He weighs his options as he stops at the back of my Range Rover.
“You don’t do much uncalculated.” I open my door but turn to face him. “And I know you don’t fuck with what I want.”
His brows jump high. “Seems to me that ship has sailed.”
I glower.
He puffs a chuckle. “She needed to see your reaction. Before, she didn’t know where you stood. I bet she does now.” He strides to his Durango. “You can thank me later,” he shouts over his shoulder.
SIXTEEN
I drew the short straw. Literally. We cut straws, held them up, and I’m the lucky one who drew the shortest straw. So, here I am in Aimee’s house waiting for William to arrive while Shyla takes her retail therapy shopping. Bitches. Both of them.
I’m grateful I had this weekend off, more so now since we stayed up past midnight to pack everything of William’s up. We lined him up to be here by eleven today. It’s ten after and my agitation has eaten away at my patience. First, he wants to screw my best friend over and now he wants to mess with my time.
Finally, a white box truck backs into the driveway. Just seeing him pisses me off and the urge to punch him in the throat deepens with each step he takes closer.
“Hey, Brooklyn.” He sounds nervous. “She wasted no time, huh?”
I cock my hip, resting my hand on my waist. “Do you blame her?”
His lips turn down and he shakes his head. “Where is everything?”
“We put most of it in the dining room.”
I lead him into the house and into the room stuffed full of cardboard boxes that we angrily tossed his things in. He drops his head and sighs.
“What happened, William?” I ask. “I never thought you’d be the type of man to do it.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him hang his head. “Never believed I’d be that guy either, but it just happened. I don’t know how, but it did.”
“You slept with someone else for months and didn’t bother informing Aimee.” I keep my view in front of me, scared that if I just look at him once, I’ll either send myself into a rage, or cry.
“I didn’t want to lose her,” he admits, not looking at me either.
“When did you fall out of love with her?”
He takes a moment to respond. “I don’t know.”
I sigh, dropping my view to the floor in front of me, blinking away the tears I feel for my friend. “She thought you were proposing to her.”
“Yeah. She yelled that as she threw a vase at me.” He kicks the floor. “I truly didn’t mean for it to happen. Everything moved so fast, but the way I feel about…” he pauses and doesn’t give up the name. “It’s out of this world. I love Aimee, I really do, but I quit seeing a future for us.”
“And instead of not leading her on, you kept her believing she’d be marrying you.” The words burn my tongue. “You of all people…You looked at her like she owned the stars in your sky.” Tears prick my eyes and I blink to him. “How could you act so normal and so in love with her but share the same feelings with another woman?”
Sadness swallows him. “I was in denial. I denied it for a long time. I was wrong and I deserve all the hateful things she, and I’m sure you and Shyla, have said about me.”
He doesn’t want to know what we’ve said.
I blow a slow and steady breath. “Quit. You’re making me like you when I hate you. Let’s get started.”
Twenty minutes of heaving box after box into the truck, he blindsides me. “Are you going to be able to lift the cabinet in the hallway?”
My head swings to him. “Do what? I was instructed for boxes only.”
“That cabinet was my father’s.”
Well, shit.
Me: Double checking. The cabinet in the hallway?
Aimee: That’s his.
Me: I’d like a relaxing spa day for this. Jussayin.
“All set. I got the clear.”
William laughs. “Unless you have muscles in that petite frame of yours and you surprise me with superwoman strength, there’s no way you’ll be able to lift it.”
I purse my lips, stretching my arms out and cracking my knuckles. “Well, let me surprise you then.”
Gripping the sides and giving it a lift…yeah. That’s a definite no-go. “Shit,” I huff.
William taps his knuckles on the top of it. “Solid wood.”
“You knew you were getting this. Why didn’t you bring someone to help?” I ask.
“I wasn’t planning on getting everything, but apparently Aimee was.”
“So call a friend.”
His head falls to the side as he looks at me like I’m stupid. “It’s Sunday. All my friends are at the card game.”
My head falls back. “Shit,” I say to the ceiling.
Reluctantly, I grab my phone, knowing the one person who lives the closest is the same man I don’t really want to talk to. But…I need help.
Me: Um. You busy?
Nathan: No.
I shoot William a cold stare. I’m totally back to hating him in this moment. “You owe me so damn big for this.”
I swipe my finger and dial Nathan.
“Hi,” he answers and I have to fight from sighing into the phone at the sound of his voice.
“I, um. I need a man.”
Nathan laughs loudly. “Well, I’m glad you called then.”
“No. Not like that. I need help lifting something. Well, William, the douche who broke Aimee’s heart does,” I slice my view to him and scowl.
“How do I answer this? Do I help? I don’t know the proper protocol for pissed friend helping shithead ex-boyfriend.” I swear I can hear him smiling.
“Help. Please,” I reply. “Everyone else I know lives on the other side of town and will take forever to get here, and his friends are at some stupid card game. And si
nce you’re practically stalking me, I know you’ve got to be close by.” I bite back my smile.
“You’re right. Shoot me the address. I’m walking out the door now.”
“Thank you, Nathan.”
Eleven minutes and twenty-eight seconds later, a black Range Rover pulls up to the curb in front of the house. My heart begins to pound as Nathan steps around the front and makes his way to the door. A hot flash warms me as I pull open the door to his smirk.
“Your man has arrived.”
I can’t help my smile, and I roll my eyes with humor. “Come in. It’s in here.”
I introduce the two. They share a quick handshake and then lift it—effortlessly, might I add. God, I hate men and their stupid sexy muscles. I watch as they load it and then pull down the door. William comes up the sidewalk and stops at the foot of the stairs. Nathan joins me at the top.
Sorrow dons on William’s face. “I’m sorry I disappointed you. I didn’t mean to hurt Aimee.”
“But you did.”
He nods. “Take care of her.”
Anger arches my brow. “Have since we were kids.” He heads back to his truck, pulling the door open when I call out his name, stopping him. “If you repeat this, I’ll have you murdered. But good luck with whatever it is you’re seeking.”
A slow smile emerges. “Thanks, B.”
I remain quiet, battling the emotions in my chest and taking steady breaths. William has been a part of my little group for six years. Not only did he break Aimee’s heart, he’s devastated us all. It hurts to see him leave.
Nathan runs his hand down my arm. “You okay?”
I blink, nodding. “Yeah. Thank you for helping. I had no one else to call.”
When I look up to him, he’s grinning like a Cheshire cat. “You’re welcome, but you owe me.”
My head flinches back. “Owe you what?”
“My moving fee is a meal.”
“Oh, really?”
Gripping my waist, he pulls me to face him and brings my body closer to his. Static electricity crackles, the air thick and making it hard to breathe. “Yes, really. You know you want to.”