by Komal Kant
“Down, Achilles!” I told him without much sternness in my voice.
Obviously, he didn’t listen. Either my lackluster tone was easy to ignore or he was just too swept up in the excitement of the moment and the possibility of seeing the faces that belonged to the familiar voices on the other side.
What the fuck, seriously? All I’d wanted was a quiet night in. Now my door was being knocked down from both ends.
“Come on, dude!” came Harris’ voice of reasoning. “You know he will! Just let us in.”
I didn’t doubt he would. Edgars may have been a cop, but he was still Edgars. That could mean anything from him ninja kicking my door down to ordering a bunch of cops to bust in with a battering ram.
He really was a shithead.
Letting out some choice cuss words, I set my second—or was it third?—beer down and got to my feet, moving Achilles aside with a leg, and flinging open the door.
“What the fuck do you want?” I growled, staring them down.
Darkness had settled on the property, making the piles of scrap look like towering beasts. It was weird, but some nights I’d just wander among the twisted metal, finding a strange sense of comfort amongst them.
No one to judge me, no one to watch me—it was a twisted peacefulness. That was, until my friends tried to get me to be social.
Edgars had a shit-eating grin on his face and a beer in his hand. His normally messy brown hair was slicked back with some gel, and he was wearing a pair of khaki pants and a collared shirt with navy boats on it. Meanwhile, Harris was tall and imposing as usual, casual in basketball shorts and a tank top.
Edgars looked way too dressed up for a regular night of drinking. This was the look he went for when he and Emme had had a bad fight and he was scouting for a one-night fling.
“Is that how you talk to your loyal best friends?” Edgars asked, taking a swig of his beer and strolling inside without an invitation.
So much for being a cop. He was carrying an open container right now like it was no big deal. Idiot.
I stepped aside to let Harris in, and shut the door behind us just as Achilles bounded up to Edgars and knocked him right into the corner armchair where he sloshed his drink all over himself.
“I’d rather not be talking,” I sat back down and propped my feet up on the cluttered coffee table.
One of these days I’d clean up a little. Just not this day.
Harris plopped down beside me, and greeted Achilles who was now slobbering all over his shorts. “That sounds like fun.”
Ignoring his quip, I reached for my beer and downed the remainder of it.
“Come out to the bonfire,” Edgars said, straightening up in the chair and fixing me with a bossy look. “It’ll be fun. You might even get lucky.”
He knew me better than that. Long gone were the days when I thought about screwing anyone. I’d rather be alone.
“I’d rather be alone,” I repeated my thoughts to him, strolling into the kitchen to get myself another drink.
“C’mon, Wade, it’s not healthy,” Harris told me, as though my mental health was going to suddenly concern me. “Having scrap metal as company can’t be good for you.”
“Are you a psychologist now?” I countered, pulling open the fridge and staring at my watery beer options. I was craving something harder, something that would give me more of an edge. “And I’ve got Achilles to keep me company, too.”
At the sound of his name, Achilles’ floppy ears perked up and he bounded towards me, almost knocking me into the fridge.
Big goofus.
“Blair’s gonna be there, ya know?” Edgars said, and when I turned, he was wiggling his brows at me. “And she’s a helluva lot better than any junk yard and dog.” He glanced at Achilles apologetically. “No offense.”
Achilles was too busy sniffing his butt to care.
In that moment, I was glad my back was to my friends. Even I wasn’t sure what kind of a face I’d make at the mention of Blair’s name.
“So?” I asked indifferently, pulling out two beers and knocking off the caps on the edge of the counter. “What do I give a damn if she’s there or not?”
“You’re telling me you haven’t thought about tapping that ass from behind?” When I turned back around, Edgars was staring at me in disbelief. “What are you? Fucking celibate or some shit?”
That was exactly right. Why did I need a woman? They only used you and then tossed you aside like you were worthless.
I didn’t express any of this to him though. Instead, I walked out of the kitchen, handed Harris one of the beers, and sunk back into the leathery couch, never wanting to leave it.
“You’ve thought about her and haven’t stopped since the day she spilled her coffee on you and screamed at you like a bat on crack.”
Surprisingly, this comment came from Harris. His face was passive, but his dark brown eyes were studying me as though they were spying into my soul. His remark wasn’t meant to get a reaction out of me. That wasn’t Harris’ style; it was simply an observation.
“She’s hot,” I admitted, staring down at the hardwood floor in dismay. “But she’s also a pain in my ass. She tried to run me over, for fuck’s sake! Not to mention, now I have to fix the damn car she tried to do it with.”
I conveniently left out the part where she’d seen me naked. That would be way too much for Edgars to handle. Even now, his mouth was falling open in surprise. This was the first he’d heard of this.
“Dude, this is the most contact you’ve had with a female who isn’t related to you in years.”
Not true. They didn’t know how frequently Iris called me, wanting me to come back, wanting to fix things. Not that I was going to divulge that information either.
“Yeah, so?”
“So, stop being so stubborn and come hang out with us,” he pressed, his green eyes burning. “I need a night out with you guys. Emme fucking chewed my head off again for being flaky and not proposing yet.” He sank back into the chair, a scowl on his face. “Why is everyone in such a fucking hurry to get married, anyway?”
Wasn’t that the damn truth?
The number one thing Emme and Edgars fought about was his lack of a proposal. That fight usually ended with a break up that didn’t last very long. And apparently, I was the unhealthy one.
Knowing how damn persistent Edgars was, he probably wasn’t going to leave here without me. He’d spend the night on that damn armchair if he had to.
“Fine, I’ll go, as long as I don’t have to talk to anyone,” I said, finally giving in.
Edgars jumped to his feet, spilling his drink some more. “All you have to do is sit there and look pretty.”
Harris gave me a nod of approval.
Grumbling under my breath, I chugged the rest of the beer, already regretting the night ahead and what I’d agreed to.
COLOR ME CONFUSED.
“So, this is what you do in lieu of clubbing?” I asked, staring around at the crowd of forty-ish people gathered by the crackling pyre.
The bonfire was at a clearing by the edge of a lake much larger than the one on Wade’s salvage yard. A thick forest of trees shielded us from the main road where everyone had parked their trucks.
Seriously, everyone had a truck in this town. Maybe I needed to ditch the Corolla and get on board. It would’ve made running Wade off the road a lot easier.
“Yeah, it’s either this or the bar.” Delilah seemed amused by my confusion. “Although, I don’t like to take business away from my bar, this is way more fun.”
I wasn’t so sure about that.
A country music song I wasn’t familiar with was playing in the background. Some of the couples were drunk enough that they’d started up a dance, their sweaty bodies grinding up against each other in the glow of the flames.
We’d joined a few of Cole and Delilah’s friends by some large logs that were big enough to seat four people each. Delilah and I had opted to stand, letting an overly affectionate coup
le, who were too busy alternately stuffing their tongues down each other’s throats to converse with us, occupy the log.
Lovely.
Call me a city brat, because I sure as heck wasn’t feeling any love towards the wilderness right now. Soft sinking grass beneath my much more sensible sneakers, gnats buzzing around me, and that unpleasant humidity sinking into my pores.
Yech.
Right on cue, an owl hooted somewhere in the background. This was how nearly every horror movie began. A bunch of unsuspecting drunkards mulling around a fire, their defenses down. Next thing you knew, a chainsaw was rip roaring through the underbrush and we were all goners.
Yeah, I was fun at parties.
My gaze connected with Cole’s, who was standing with Drew by some coolers, getting us more drinks. Even from several feet away, I could tell Cole’s eyes were firmly planted on my butt. Wow, talk about having no ounce of subtlety.
“Your brother is having butt fantasies about me,” I remarked to Delilah.
“Well, you’ve got your best ‘fuck me’ outfit on, so I’m not surprised.” She toggled her perfectly groomed brows at me. “My brother is entertained by the simple things in life. Butts and boobs.”
Thrown by her words, I studied my ensemble. Blue denim shorts and a pale blue tank top—what exactly screamed ‘fuck me’ about them? Delilah herself was wearing denim shorts and a t-shirt with Kurt Cobain’s face splashed across the front. There wasn’t much clothing difference between us.
Seeing the confusion on my face, she laughed and took a drink from her red solo cup. “You fill out a lot better than I do.” She tugged at the t-shirt that hung on her slender, willowy frame. “Especially in the back. Men like booty.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” I assured her, now concerned that my butt was the size of a beach ball. “Those Oreos will catch up to me one day, but you’ll stay as svelte as ever.”
My love for Oreos often outweighed my love for working out. That’s why I wasn’t quite as trim as Delilah was. I didn’t care though. Give me the cookie any day.
Delilah laughed at that, her eyes drifting in the direction of our respective siblings. “Speaking of eye-banging brothers, yours is staring at me in a similar way.”
Following her gaze, I saw that Drew was indeed gawking at Delilah like she was his sun and moon. Weirdo.
“He did just get back from a spiritual pilgrimage three months ago,” I explained. “There weren’t many women on the mountain for him to get with.”
“Did he really do that?” she asked, turning away from him to look at me with curiosity. “Because that’s pretty cool. Most people here rarely go out of state, let alone to a whole other continent.”
The flames of the bonfire rose higher, at least eight feet now, as I considered the best way to explain Drew.
“So, three years ago, Drew finished high school with a 4.0 GPA and offers from Harvard and Yale to study Engineering,” I began, sipping on what remained of my vodka and Sprite drink.
It was a little stronger than I would’ve made it, but it was helping with the awkwardness I felt being here.
“No shit.” Delilah’s mouth fell open and her eyes grew large. She pushed her hair to the side and I couldn’t help noticing how perfect it was. Not an ounce of frizz was visible in those long locks. “That’s amazing.”
“Yeah, it is, except for what happened next.” Even though years had passed, the story was fresh in my mind. Drew’s withdrawn eyes and pallid face as he told our parents his new plans. “His girlfriend cheated on him just before he graduated, and it wrecked him. He decided to travel around Asia instead of going to college. He did that for about two years and now he’s back.”
Funded by our parents, of course.
“So, he’s got the brains, but not the drive?” Delilah asked in wonder, bringing her cup to her mouth and pausing. “All because a girl broke his heart?”
I nodded, taking another sip of my drink, surprised by how quickly my taste buds had adjusted to the taste. “Yeah, it’s crazy that teen infidelity deterred him from a path of success and sent him into seclusion in Nepal with a bunch of bald guys and some monkeys.”
“Hmmm,” was all Delilah said, but there was something deeper in the lines of her forehead.
Before I could ask what was on her mind, we were interrupted by two familiar figures. One was tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, with dark skin and dark hair; the other was a little shorter and leaner, with overly-styled brown hair and a smile so devilish, it was a wonder he didn’t have horns.
“Hey, you two,” Delilah greeted them with a nod and then motioned towards me with a hand. “Have you met Blair?”
“Oh, we’ve met,” I said, rising to my feet and staring down the taller, bigger guy who had to be at least six feet. “You’re Bearded Jer-I mean, Wade’s accomplice.” I spun on the other guy. “And you’re the unhelpful police officer.”
“Harris,” said the big guy, not unkindly.
There was nothing rude about his tone. He just seemed to be a man of few words. However, the officer more than made up for this.
“That’s Officer Monroe to you,” he said, his thick brows forming a stern line across his forehead. “And you best keep that sass out of your tone if you don’t wanna spend the night in county for public intoxication.”
Wrong choice of words, buddy.
Just because he was a police officer didn’t mean he could tell me what to do, especially when he was off-duty and dressed like a member of a disbanded boy group with that sailboat shirt and khaki pants combo he had on.
“Ed,” Delilah started to say, rising to her feet, but I cut her off.
“First of all, this is only my first drink, so there’s no way I’m intoxicated.” I fixed him with a firm look that rivaled his. “And, second of all,” I continued, thrusting two fingers in his face, “there’s way too much gel in your hair for me to take you seriously, Harry Styles.”
He gaped at me for a second, like he couldn’t believe I’d challenged him. From beside him, Harris’ mouth gave an involuntary twitch, and before I could register what was going on, he burst into booming laughing and slapped Edgars on the back with so much force that he stumbled forwards.
“Nice,” Delilah remarked, chuckling as well.
Edgars stared at me for a moment before his face broke out into a grin. “I like you,” he announced, sticking out a hand. “I’m Edgars Monroe, the most interesting guy around these parts.”
Delilah snorted. “Whatever you say, Ed.”
Still wary about whether he was going to arrest me, I shook his hand with caution. “Blair Fonseka.”
“Oh, we know you, Blair. We go way back. We used to shoot spitballs at each other in Sunday school. Not to mention the great things I hear about you from our buddy.” He paused, turning his head to stare back towards the woods. “Wade.”
Following his gaze, I was surprised to see a lone figure sitting a few yards away, cloaked in darkness. He was about as far away from the crowd and the fire as he could physically get.
Great, just great. There was no getting away from that man.
My body suddenly grew warmer, and it had nothing to do with the fire or the vodka. It possibly, maybe, had everything to do with picturing him naked. Naked beside the fire, the flames dancing shadows against his ripped torso.
No, get it together, Blair!
Delilah started when she recognized her brother. “How’d you two manage to get his anti-social ass down here?”
Harris and Edgars exchanged complicit smiles.
“I threatened him with a warrant,” Edgars told us with a Cheshire cat grin.
Delilah rolled her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re putting your authority to good use, Ed.” She turned to me. “C’mon, Blair. Let’s go say hi to him.”
“W-what?” I stammered, my eyes snapping to her in a panic.
The last time I’d seen Wade, I’d seen too much of him. Wade from afar I could handle, but I wasn’t up for e
xchanging pleasantries with the man, even with his sister to supervise us.
Who knew what could happen?
“Ugh.” Delilah pulled a face. “Never mind. Krystle beat us to it.”
Turning back in Wade’s direction, I saw a scantily clad figure standing by him. Okay, now she was sitting next to him on the log. And now she was draping her body over his like a coat.
Blech.
A bitter feeling wound itself through me, and my grip tightened on my cup until I was almost crushing it.
I did not care. Not at all.
What did it matter to me what Wade did? Not a damn thing. He was nothing to me.
Krystle Banks and I would never be bedmates.
It didn’t matter how many times she brushed her tits against my arm, the last thing I was gonna do was take her to bed with me.
Even though I’d turned her down on numerous lonely nights, she kept pursuing me like I was the only man in the world who could satisfy her. I’d almost gone down that road with her back in high school, but luckily Edgars had gotten there first.
I didn’t go after my friends’ women, even eleven years later. Still, Krystle wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Take tonight for example. She was dressed like a woman on a mission. Shorts so tiny, I could practically see her babymaker. Tank top so tight, I was pretty sure it was in a kid’s size. She was the only girl in town with fake boobs—double D’s that seemed cartoonish on her small frame.
But it wasn’t enough to tempt me. She was not my type, not that I was looking, but if I was, she wasn’t the one. The only person I was looking at right now was someone I didn’t want to be looking at.
Blair. It was all Blair; flowy raven hair and glossy skin and pert lips. Somehow, she’d managed to squeeze that ass into a pair of shorts that weren’t micro-sized, but short enough for me to have wild thoughts about her.
Thoughts I’d never admit to anyone I’d been having since I’d rolled down the hill with her and felt every curve of her body fit against mine. Taking her in the back of my truck, losing myself in her, feeling her give in to me, those thoughts were overpowering me.