by Komal Kant
There was so much heat between us, even yards apart. It didn’t stop at just cemeteries and road rage and seeing me naked. It was so much more. But I shouldn’t even be thinking about her—not when I still had so much crap to work out with Iris.
“Are you sure you don’t want some company tonight?” Krystle’s vodka tinged breath was hot in my ear. “You look lonely.”
Cringing, I shifted away from her, refusing to make eye contact. I knew the look I would find in them—lust, passion, heat, all the things I didn’t want to see. She’d traipsed up to my cabin the other night and I’d purposely not answered the door, refusing to let her into my space.
“I like being lonely,” I mumbled, taking a gulp of my beer and staring at the burning flames of the bonfire.
“Why be lonely when I could make your night?” I felt her fingers trailing up my leg, to where my shirt met my jeans.
Arousal swept through me, but she wasn’t going to win this time. Or any time.
“I don’t think you’re capable of making my night,” I replied, pushing away her flirtatious hand.
Humiliation flickered in her honey-brown eyes. Maybe she hadn’t received the message entirely, but for now, it was enough to herd her away.
“If that’s what you want, Wade.” Krystle hopped off my cooler, snatching her red solo cup from the leveled grass. “If wasting away into a flaming wreck is what you want then I can’t save you.” There was intent behind her words, but she didn’t wait around to see my reaction.
With a toss of her hair, she stormed off in the direction of the bonfire, back to where she’d find a man more willing to give her the attention she craved.
It was just as she left, before I’d even had a chance to enjoy the peace, that the Dick Trio materialized from the trees to my right. They stumbled to a halt a few feet in front of me, too caught up in their dumb conversation to notice me sitting in the darkness.
Hunter Miles, Matt Ryde, and Walsh Baker—we got along like rabid dogs vying for the same chunk of meat.
Hunter was the ring leader. Tall, blond, blue-eyed; he tried to assume the alpha male role in Pine Bluffs, and with his dad owning the only bank in town, it was easy for him to do. The guy thought he was a catch, but he was more like a guy you could catch herpes from. He flew through women within a 100-mile radius of here.
Matt and Walsh were his loyal sidekicks. I didn’t know much about them, or cared to know. They worked in construction, drank a lot, fucked a lot, and were complete assholes, starting a bar brawl on an average Friday night like it was cake.
“Dude, she’s fucking hot,” Matt was saying in his obnoxious way. He was very large, especially in the middle, and had a face like a bulldog. “You gonna try to get it in?”
Not interested in which unfortunate woman they were trying to sleep with tonight, I chugged down the rest of my beer, staring mindlessly into the thicket of trees as the alcohol buzzed around in my brain.
Why the fuck was I here? There was nothing for me; no joy, no laughter, no-
“Duh, she’s fucking hot, but I’m gonna make sure I bag it.” Hunter’s grating voice reached my ears. “Don’t want any brown babies.”
My head snapped back in their direction as the three of them laughed. They were staring right at Blair.
Blair. Beautiful, beautiful Blair.
Hunter’s cruel words crashed repeatedly in my head like cymbals. Anger was rippling through my body like a heat wave. Who the fuck did they think they were to talk about Blair like that? Those narrow-minded fucks.
Before I could throw my can at Hunter’s head and knock out some of his teeth, the three of them moved on, stumbling down towards the fire with laughter on their tongues.
My vision grew darker. My mood was plummeting.
A thousand daggers were spinning inside of me, teetering on the edge of a dangerous drop. Once I lost all control, I was going to beat that asshole and his friends into the ground.
As I watched them stumble down towards Blair, the missile growing in my chest was dangerously close to setting off.
VODKA AND CRANBERRY JUICE DANCED circles on my tongue.
The stars were more beautiful than any chandelier in the Welsecky estate.
Cole’s smile was made up of sunshine, but I wanted a face that was broody.
And I was drunk, drunk, drunk. Definitely drunk if I was thinking of…that junk.
Trying my best to not look at the junk jerk person, I whipped my body away so fast that my shoulder leaned into Cole’s side. We were close enough now that I could see the warm glaze in his eyes and smell the hoppy beer on his breath.
Even though Cole made me laugh and said all the right things, I couldn’t lead him on. A normal woman would’ve put herself out there; batted her eyelashes, pushed out her boobs, and made sure her breath was minty fresh and ready for a hot make-out session.
But not me—I couldn’t follow through.
Tonight, I was entirely distracted by the presence of Wade Welsecky, a man so obscure, he’d brushed off every single person that had approached him, including Krystle and his own friends. It was something about his “I don’t give a fuck” attitude that was reeling me in, that lit a fire inside me that no one had in a while.
Although, I couldn’t see him very well from this distance, my lush imagination was doing all the work for me. His handsome, chiseled face adorned with his signature scowl, those blue eyes that seemed to take in so much, and that body. Don’t even get me started on the things I’d seen and wanted to see again.
Cole would never know what thoughts mulled around in my head. While our respective siblings got a little too cozy by the fire, the two of us had opted to stay on one of the large logs, our conversations ranging from Chicago to verging on flirtation.
But even four drinks later, I had managed to stay strong. Kissing Cole was tempting, but it was all meaningless, and maybe that was the problem. I needed to have more meaning in my life, and that wasn’t going to happen on this log with Cole.
“So, you’re really not dating anyone?” Cole asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
I shook my head, sipping on my drink, which I probably didn’t need any more of. “Right after college, I became a raging workaholic determined to make my mark on the world. Miguel, my boyfriend, told me I’d turned into a ruthless, career-obsessed psycho and left me.” I fake smiled, like it was no deal, but even after all these years, Miguel’s words still hurt.
Ugh, that was too much information. Damn vodka, loosening my lips.
Cole arched a brow in interest. “Really? He didn’t want you to be successful?”
I bit my lip, as I sorted through details in my buzzing head, trying not to divulge too much. “It wasn’t that. He said I was turning into someone he couldn’t respect.” My mind took me back to the grim day. “He told me I should be more Zen, like my brother.”
I stared into the fire as I spoke. If only I’d listened to him.
Cole was silent for a good minute, as though weighing my words. Finally, he asked, “So, did you do it?”
“Hmm?” I turned to him in question, breaking my staring match with the flames.
“Did you make your mark on the world?”
A chill washed over me. If only he knew the truth. That I had done that, and more.
“Hey, Blair!” came an unfamiliar voice, thankfully saving us from this depressing topic.
I’d take anything right now. Even a pseudo-nice conversation with Krystle. Anything to get away from my past mistakes.
Glancing around, I noticed a figure approaching us, silhouette black against the backdrop of the bonfire. Two figures lingered behind the first, keeping their distance, but close enough to hear our exchange.
“Yes?” I asked, searching his burly features and not recognizing him.
The guy was a medium height with a medium build, and was otherwise forgettable if it wasn’t for his receding, blond hair that formed a steep widow’s peak on his lined forehead. Age was not on his side.<
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“Hey, I’m Hunter,” he introduced himself, a glazed expression splattered across his face. The red solo cup in his hand explained the look. “Hunter Miles. My dad owns the bank.”
That was a strange bit of information to offer up. Was that supposed to impress me?
Cole muttered under his breath, “He’s also about as deep as an inflatable kiddie pool on a good day, which this clearly isn’t.”
“Oh, hi, nice to meet you, Hunter, whose dad owns the bank,” I said, trying my hardest not to burst into a fit of laughter.
That would’ve rude. I was already an outsider. No reason to make that label even worse.
“How’s your visit been so far?” he asked, stepping closer and shooting Cole a dark look, as though he knew Cole had bad mouthed him.
Digging my shoes into the soft ground, I fixed him with a firm gaze. “Considering I came to bury my grandmother, not the best.” My tone was flat, and this Hunter guy could tell.
“Oh, yeah, right.” He slurred his words as he spoke. “Sucks what happened to her.”
What a drunk, insensitive asshole.
“Yes,” I said, my tone contrived. “It does suck.”
This guy needed to take a hint and leave. We clearly weren’t going to have a decent conversation, especially when he was being so blasé about my grandmother’s death.
The jerk vibes were strong in this one, and not in the way they had been with Wade. This Hunter dude was the real deal.
“So, anyway,” he ploughed ahead, oblivious to my aversion towards him, “you should come hang out with us. We’re a lot more fun than Welsecky here.” There was disdain in his tone.
“No, thanks.” I regarded him with disinterest. “I kind of like this Welsecky’s company.”
I could practically feel Cole glowing from beside me. Unfortunately, Hunter didn’t seem happy with my rejection.
“Trust me, honey, I can show you a much better time.” The disgusting innuendo made me shudder. This guy was not attractive to me in any way.
Cole stood up. “Dude, you clearly can’t handle your drinks. Go home.”
“I can handle my drinks fine, dude,” Hunter shot back, his eyes narrowing with malice.
“Clearly not,” I remarked, starting to grow impatient.
Hunter’s jaw tightened as his narrowed eyes flickered between Cole and me. “You move fast, don’t you? You’ve been in town for a couple days and you already found a fuck buddy.” He knocked back the rest of his drink.
“Fuck off, Hunter,” Cole snarled.
I jumped to my feet, my drink lapping against my chest. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I am no one’s fuck buddy. Buddy.”
A flirty grin rose on his mouth. “That’s not what I meant, baby.” He leaned in closer, swaying a little. “All I meant was-”
“I’m definitely not your baby,” I snapped, cleanly cutting him off and turning away.
Hunter’s smile vanished, and his mouth twisted into a jack-o-lantern sneer. “Listen, bitch, who the fuck do you think you are-”
Cole tensed from beside me, and I was sure he was about to hit this Hunter person right in the face, but before he could react, a steady voice spoke from our right.
“Did you not hear her, Hunter? She’s obviously not that into you. I’d send you the book so you could learn to pick up on basic signs, but I’m pretty sure you can’t read beyond a first-grade level.”
Oh. My. All the craps.
It was Wade, in all his ruggedly handsome glory. Also, who would’ve guessed he had a sense of humor?
My heart sped up at his sudden proximity to me. His expression was as stoic and impassive as always, his fists clenched against the side of his faded jeans that fit him to perfection.
Dayum.
“Don’t fuck with me, Wade,” Hunter threatened, straightening himself up to his full height, which still managed to be shorter than Wade’s, “or I’ll beat in that pretty boy face of yours.”
“I’m glad you find me so attractive,” Wade said in a dismissive tone. “But you gotta buy me flowers first.”
I couldn’t help it—I snorted.
In hindsight, that was probably a bad reaction on my part, because it instantly triggered Hunter and sent him into a twisted, macho, Hulk mood.
Snarling, he moved towards Wade and shoved him hard enough that he had to take a steadying step back.
A flurry of air whipped past me, and Cole was at Wade’s side within a millisecond.
The other two lurking figures stepped up to us, unfamiliar as well, but who I assumed were friends of Hunter. One of the guys had a large midsection, while the other was smaller with an ugly expression on his features which I likened to Resting Murder Face.
“Stay out of it, Cole. I got no beef with you,” Hunter said, his lip curling.
“If you got beef with my brother then you got beef with me.” Cole stood his ground, unflinching.
Apparently, the Welsecky brothers loved each other more than they let on.
“Fuck you and your brother,” Hunter spat. “Y’all are messing with the wrong guy.”
“Watch what you say.” Edgars reached us, taking everything in with keen eyes. Harris was by his side, his frame eclipsing everyone else’s. “I wouldn’t want to drag your sorry ass to jail for the night.” He paused, contemplating this. “On second thought, I’d love nothing more.’
Hunter’s friends stepped forward in menacing sync, but they weren’t as impressive or intimidating compared to Harris, or even Wade.
“Stay out of it, Ed,” Hunter shot at him.
“And what if I don’t? What are ya gonna do?” Edgars’ face assumed a bored expression. “Have your daddy charge extra interest on my account? He might have to with the bad investments he’s made lately, especially that strip club in the next town he spends so much time at.”
Hunter’s fingers twitched for a second, like he was tempted to curl them into a fist and hit Edgars, but then decided that punching a police officer was a bad idea.
“This isn’t over, Welsecky,” he growled at Wade. “You don’t own this town. No one wants you here.”
No one wants you here.
That was a strange thing to say. I looked around to gauge the others’ reactions, but their expressions were inscrutable.
Everyone was silent as Hunter and his cronies stormed off past the coolers and up the slope, disappearing into the trees, no doubt to lick their wounded egos.
Wade was unmoving, his face impassive as he stared after them. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone.
No one wants you here.
Before I could make a move to say anything to Wade, to thank him for defending me against the Hunter jerk, he turned and swiftly disappeared into the trees as though he’d never been under the smoky stars at all.
No one wants you here.
It might not have been true, but right now it was crashing around in my head on repeat. Maybe it was the drinks I’d had or maybe it was just because I was a miserable son of a bitch, but that asshole’s words had gotten to me.
The anger bubbling through me was being replaced with a dark loneliness. Usually, I could combat the feeling, but it was strong tonight. All my triggers had been tripped in one night.
Twigs snapped under my boots as I made my way back to the access road where I’d parked my truck. I needed to get home, back to where no one could touch me with their words. Maybe, just maybe, I would cast aside the beer tonight for something heavier. Something harder.
That’s what I needed. Whiskey. Rum. Vodka. Tequila. Silver or gold liquid; it didn’t matter which one. They were all equals. Either one would take off the edge. Keep me from losing my damn mind. Or maybe lose it. What did it matter?
Hasty footsteps crunched behind me. The person following me was small, quick, determined to seek me out.
“Wade Welsecky, you stop walking right now,” came the familiar, bossy voice from behind me.
With a groan, I stopped in my tracks and spun
around to find my little sister breaking out of the trees. She brushed a leaf out of her hair as she stopped short of me.
“What is it, Lila?” I asked, trying to keep my voice devoid of any emotion.
“You know what.” She gave me a stern look, but there was an undertone of tenderness there. “He got to you.”
Delilah, more often than not, ended up being the responsible one. I guess, between Cole and me being such shitheads and making stupid decisions, it wasn’t very hard to do.
“Whatever.” I shrugged, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ll get over it.”
“Oh, stop it, Wade,” Delilah said in her ‘no bullshit’ tone, as she leaned against one of the large oaks that was starting to change colors too soon. “Haven’t you learned by now that talking about your feelings is important. Remember what happened last time you bottled up inside and refused to talk to any of us?”
She didn’t need to remind me of what a fuck up I’d been in the past. Sure, the average person made mistakes in their life, but I’d made so many of them that no amount of talking could undo them.
“Okay, fine, he made me feel like shit,” I admitted, staring at a spot just past her head.
“To be fair, you probably made him feel like shit, too,” she countered. “Criticizing his reading capacity; I’m pretty sure he knows enough words to read at least one sentence of that book.” A smile twitched on the edge of her mouth.
I couldn’t help but grin at that. “He’s such a dick, talking to Blair like that. You should’ve heard the shit he was saying about her earlier.” At the memory of his racist comment, my blood began to boil again.
If my therapist didn’t tell me to focus on reacting without violence, I would’ve punched that asshole right in the face.
“He is a dick. A huge one,” Delilah agreed. “But I’ve never seen him get to you like that before. I can’t help feeling it has something to do with Blair.”
I turned away so she couldn’t see my face. Goddamn Blair, blowing into my life like the worst storm to ever hit it. Why couldn’t I get away from that cursed woman?
“There’s nothing with Blair,” I said shortly.