Losing Enough

by Helen Boswell

  “Everything’s cool,” Elle says quickly. “This is my cousin. We were trying to connect all day, and I guess he remembered I’d be at the concert.” She gives him the stink eye before continuing with introductions. “Grace, this is Connor. Connor, you obviously remember my friend Alex, and this is her mother.”

  “Lovely to meet you, Connor.” Mom approaches him with an outstretched hand, all grace like her name. He finally turns that scorching gaze away from me.

  “Same here, ma’am. Sorry to pull Elle away, but I needed a minute to catch up with her.” He steps forward and takes my mother’s hand, a smile and dimples appearing out of nowhere. Actual dimples. Calling my mom “ma’am.” What is this guy’s deal? He’s like a real-life Jekyll and Hyde, only a lot more…hot. He’s minus the jacket now, and my gaze takes in how good his body looks in that t-shirt and those jeans. My own body responds with a flush that I’m sure makes its way into my cheeks.

  Mom continues to stand there, her hand clasped in his like he’s already won her over. “We do happen to have another ticket for the show and a table where you and Elle are welcome to catch up. Would you like to join us?”

  Wait. What? She did not just invite Connor to come with us to the concert, did she? This was supposed to be a night for my mom, for Elle, a time for us all to bond.

  He’ll probably say no.

  But…I kind of wish he’d say yes.

  His eyes flick over to me before he answers, and he gives me that cocky-as-hell half-smile again before addressing my mom.

  “I’d like that. Thank you.”

  10

  Connor

  Elle’s behaving like a half-brained fangirl, complete with annoyingly high-pitched squeals. It’s a far cry from her usual badassery, and I’m irritated. Not only with her, but also with myself for turning up the charm with Alex’s mother and getting myself invited to a concert with thousands of people. I did it without really thinking, mostly because I needed to talk to Elle.

  But maybe it had a little bit to do with Alex.

  She looks really good tonight. Sexy in that shirt and with her hair all done up like that. She brushes back a stray strand as we walk through the doors, and I catch myself staring at the long line of her neck. I tell myself that it doesn’t mean anything that I’m noticing. I’m used to noticing people.

  I bring up the rear as some burly dude dressed like a secret service agent escorts us into the elevator. I stand next to him while the ladies stay on one side, following them as the doors open and they parade out into the balcony.

  There are two circular tables adjacent to one another that say “Reserved” on them, and Alex pauses to drop her bag on one of the chairs. She glances up and sees me looking at her, and her eyes roll before she turns away. I smile in spite of myself. Looks like I’m not the only one not thrilled about me being here.

  The balcony area is side-stage and exclusive, and it takes me all of two seconds to sweep through it. I’m relieved at least that it’s so secluded. The two tables they scored are the closest ones to the stage and arguably some of the best seats in the entire joint. Alex and her mother stand at the railing and look down at the crowd, and Elle starts to follow. But I’m not here to socialize, and I need to talk to her before she gets swept even further into the whole concert deal.

  I look around, and everyone’s excited to be here but me. It’s like I’m the only sober person in a crowd full of drunks, only they’re all drunk on good vibes and I got left holding onto all of the crap. What the hell had I been thinking, that this would actually be a good idea?

  Before she can get away, I catch Elle’s hand and pull her back to one of the tables. My nerves feel raw, edges exposed and ready to fire off at any moment.

  Her eyes narrow for a second, but she sinks into a chair, and I take the one opposite her.

  “So. Cruz.”

  “Yes…”

  Elle trails off and bites her lip, and I wait and wonder. Wonder what she saw when she looked at him for the first time in so long. The three of us grew up together, and Elle was just thirteen when Cruz started making all sorts of bad choices. I used to think that if I hadn’t met Laura when I did, I might have been in danger of going down a similar path. That in that way, she saved me…

  …even though I couldn’t save her.

  I close my eyes for a second.

  Elle clears her throat, and I bring myself back to the present and concentrate on her voice. “He came by this morning. We went out to brunch.”

  “And I wasn’t invited? My feelings are hurt.” Maybe I should be surprised at the fact that she’s already buddies with Cruz, but I’m not. “So don’t tell me you just sat across from each other and had brunch. He wanted to meet with you to find out about me, right? The same way we’re doing this right now.” I gesture between us. “So what did you tell him?”

  “Hey,” she says sharply. “He also wanted to see how I was doing. Did you ever think of that as a possibility?”

  Pain floods her expression, but she quickly tucks it away where I can’t see it anymore. Elle was friends with Cruz, too. She was maybe even closer to him than she was to me when we were growing up. Out of the two of us, he was always the more outgoing one. But she saw less and less of him as he became more involved with the people that he eventually embraced as family. I know it hurt Elle when he changed.

  “Yeah. Sorry, Elle. I’m a dick.”

  “I know that.” She gives me a half-smile but it vanishes. “He wasn’t like he was when we were back there,” she says in earnest. “He’s been going to rehab, and he’s not using anymore.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “And what, I’m suddenly part of his twelve-step program?”

  Elle reaches over like she’s going to touch my hand but thinks better of it at the last second. “Maybe. Would that be so bad?”

  I don’t bother responding to that. “So he’s clean. Or so he says. What about the street gang? The protection rackets? Is he done with all that too?”

  She chews on her thumbnail instead of answering, which is enough of an answer for me.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I say. “Elle, you can’t possibly believe that he came here to make amends with me.”

  She sits up straighter, stops fidgeting. “Actually, that’s exactly why I think he wants to meet with you. That’s what he told me, and why wouldn’t I believe it?” she demands, defensiveness creeping into her tone. “Just because you think he’s a certain way? You can’t always stick people into these discrete little categories all of the time, Connor. People are complex, and they’re interesting. And they change.”

  That again. That unwavering faith in people that Elle has. I disagree with her, and now I’m annoyed that she feels the need to lecture me.

  “Listen,” she says. “He’s different, I’m telling you. He kept asking me if you were happy, what you were doing these days, if you settled down and got married.” She smirks at this, like it’s outside of the realm of possible things. I ignore the jab.

  “And you told him what?”

  “Nothing. Only that you’re doing well.” She leans forward, her eyes pleading. “I really think you should meet with him. He’s going to stay for a while –”

  “Exactly how long is a while?” I interrupt. This city has no room for the type of scum Cruz used to run with. Unless he’s running from them.

  It feels like every muscle in my body tenses as a scream erupts from the crowd below. The band is coming out now, and my first impulse is to get up and leave. Leave Elle along with her naïve optimism and her rich VIP friend.

  As if she heard my thoughts, Alex dashes over to the table.

  “Hey! You can’t sit here all night,” she says to Elle. “They’re coming out, right now!”

  “What? Omigod! No opening band?” Elle scoots out of her chair and rushes over to the railing.

  Alex stays standing by the table, grinning after her. I catch the faint scent of her perfume, sweet and vibrant but with an edge. It suits he
r. Pretty and fresh but also with an attitude.

  I watch from my seat as she rummages in her bag and pulls out a bottle of ibuprofen. She pops the top before she notices me watching.

  “Headache?” I ask.

  Her gaze zeroes in on mine, holds it steady and sure. It surprises me a little. I bet she doesn’t take shit from people too often. If at all.

  “My mother has one. But thank you for your concern.” Her tone isn’t snarky, though it could have been.

  I glance over at her mother, who’s standing with Elle at the railing and smiling gently at something she’s saying, despite the headache. There’s a resemblance to Maya there, but it’s slight. Blonde hair, though Grace’s is more of a strawberry blonde. Same air of refinement, which is maybe accentuated by a faint British accent. But even though Maya showed me some of her vulnerable side today, she’s always all show and glitter when she’s out in public. Alex’s mom seems more real.

  Alex taps two pills out into her palm and goes on. “She gets them a lot. I always make sure I have stuff for her just in case.”

  No idea why she’s chatting me up, telling me personal things like this, but maybe she’s being nice to me because I’m Elle’s cousin. Her fingers close around the pills, and her eyes settle on my face, an openness in her expression that I’m not used to. For some reason, I feel obligated to say something back.

  “I’m sorry to hear she’s not feeling well. Will she be okay?”

  “Sure. This stuff is pretty potent.”

  She smiles at me, and it’s not the same sunny smile that she gave me when she was walking out of the high roller room. That one had been incidental, because she’d been having fun with her father and I happened to be in the path of that happiness. This one is for me.

  That smile of hers stirs up something in me, and I’m not totally sure what it is. I glance over at her mother, whose arm is resting around Elle’s shoulders as they look down at the stage. Elle’s twirling the cord of a concert pass around her fingers. I saw it before in the elevator and when I was talking to her – an all-access pass – and notice that she’s the only one out of the three that has one.

  They gave Elle the only all-access pass?

  Alex is looking past me now, her hand waving in the air as she tries to get the attention of a server who’s taking drink orders in the middle of the balcony, but the server doesn’t see her and starts to head in the other direction.

  I stand up. “Water?”

  She stares at me. “What?”

  “Your mother. Would she like some water to take those?”

  “Yeah, that would be great.” She nods. “Thanks.”

  “You want anything?” I shoot over my shoulder as I start toward the server. I remember the drink I spilled on her at QE2 last night and add, “A Manhattan?”

  I don’t normally go out of my way for people that I don’t know, but as I go get water from the server, it somehow feels right this time.“No thanks,” she says. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stomach one of those for a while. And I don’t let guys buy me drinks anymore. I don’t want to be stupid.”

  Ha. She’s got me there.

  I watch Elle from across the table as she belts out the lyrics to every song in the set. And she’s doing it in a voice that should be heard by more than just me. Elle’s got real talent, and I hope she realizes it, hope she knows that she should be out there singing to everyone, not only the employees at that dive of a bar where she works. She deserves more than that.

  The guilt punches through my brief reflective moment. I feel bad that I haven’t asked her how all of that’s going lately. I know she has all of her friends and the people she works with, but we grew up together, and I’m her family. I frown, thinking about the fact that I haven’t been very close to her lately. Busy lives or not, no wonder she glommed onto Cruz right away.

  Call it reflection, call it resolve or realization, but it’s in this moment that I decide. I’ll meet Cruz. If he’s here for a few days (assuming that’s what Elle means by “a while”), he’ll either pester her about me until she gives in and tells him everything she knows. Or she’ll start to resent me for pushing him off, if she doesn’t already. The bottom line is I have to figure out exactly what I’m going to say and do when I see him. Killing him is out of the question, though it almost makes me crack a smile to think about it.

  Yeah, I’ll listen to what he has to say. But that’s it. I’ll give him my time, which is a hell of a lot more than he deserves, but I’ll do it for Elle.

  I don’t know why I come up with this decision right now, but maybe it’s because I’m feeling chill for the first time in what feels like weeks. It could also have something to do with the fact that I’m having a beer, listening to decent music, and surrounded by people with positive energy.

  Alex is part of that. She’s sitting across from her mom and on her second Jack and Coke. She’s not singing, but she has that glow again like when she was with her father in the high roller room earlier today. I’m watching the show, which is a pretty epic production with lasers, lights, and graphics. But I’m still aware of Alex.

  I freeze with my hand on my beer as she leans over to our table. Her lips part, and I stare at them.

  “Let’s dance, Elle. Mom.”

  She grabs both of their hands, and the three of them laugh and move away from the tables. With them standing off to the side of the railing, I can still watch the show, but my eyes drift over to them more often than not. Alex dances like Elle sings, like it comes naturally to her and with emotion. Like the music is washing through her and making her move.

  Elle shimmies over and grabs my hand. “C’mon, Connor. Dance with us!”

  I stay seated. “Fuck no, crazy girl.”

  “Don’t be such a bore. Come dance!”

  The song is deep and slow, heavy on the bass and full of Alysa Trane’s low, sultry voice. I watch as Alex’s hips sway in the same sexy rhythm, feel my heart rate speed up. I stand without thinking, and Elle grins like a wicked witch before leading me over to the railing.

  Alex watches my approach, and I catch a flicker of surprise cross her face, but it disappears as she turns to Elle. The two of them get kind of touchy feely as they dance together, and I’m torn between thinking that it’s hot and mentally kicking myself because Elle’s my cousin, for fuck’s sake.

  The band starts playing a faster song, and I hold out my hand to Alex’s mom. She smiles and takes it, and I dance with her, switching off my dark thoughts associated with Cruz and Laura. The hatred. The guilt. Try to let it all go for now.

  Elle catches my eye and smiles as I spin Grace around. I know this was her intention all along, to get me to chill the fuck out, and I roll my eyes at her. But I have to admit that it’s all good right now. Maybe even better than when I go out, because I’m just having fun, for once not planning my next move.

  The first song transitions to another fast one, and I keep dancing with Grace. She seems a little breathless by the end and excuses herself to go to the ladies’ room.

  “Thank you for the dance, Connor,” she says, fanning a hand in front of her face. “I haven’t danced like that in a long time.”

  I’m holding her other hand, and I give her a semi-formal bow. “The pleasure was all mine.”

  She takes her hand back and pats me on the arm before retrieving her purse from the table, and I’m left alone with Alex and Elle. The next song is a lot slower, and I freeze as Alex walks right up to me.

  “Hey,” she says. “Thanks for dancing with my mom. She looked like she was having a lot of fun.”

  She’s standing close enough to me that I can smell her perfume. Close enough that if I took a half-step forward, we’d be touching.

  “You’re welcome,” I say lightly. “But you don’t need to thank me for that.” Elle is standing by the railing singing again, and I raise an eyebrow at Alex. “Want to dance?”

  She hesitates, and I almost say never mind, but then she shrugs.

&n
bsp; “Sure.”

  She takes that half-step toward me, and my senses fill with her as she slides her hands up to my shoulders, as we move together like we’ve done this before. And maybe it’s easy because this is just what I do when I go out and this is what she does when she goes out. But I think it’s also because it’s her. One of her long legs brushes against mine, and I stare down at her face. My skin heats up because of her nearness, her touch, and I lose track of anything else when I bring my hands to rest on her hips. She smells so fucking good. Her lips are slightly parted, and she looks so sexy that I wonder if she tastes just as good.

  I lean down, and she freezes, her grip tightening on my shoulders. I pause with my lips just inches from hers, the anticipation hanging heavily between us. Her breath becomes mine as I descend, her eyes closing as my want turns into full-blown need.

  But then Elle shrieks from right next to us, contributing to the high-pitched screams from the crowd as the laser show goes into overtime. Alex’s eyes fly open as the moment between us is torn away, and she runs her hands from my shoulders down my chest but draws back, her cheeks flushed. She gives me a smile, and there’s a little feistiness to it and a shine in her eyes to match. And Elle – fuck, I’d about forgotten she was even here – is gawking at us like her eyeballs are going to fall out of her head.

  “Connor.” She shakes her head at me. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, you need to keep it in your pants, okay? This is my friend.”

  Alex laughs, the tension of the moment dissolving. “It’s not a big deal. We were just dancing.”

  She seems like she’s being careful not to look at me as I say it, and she turns and links arms with Elle as the next song starts. Yeah, not a big deal except that my body’s jacked up now because it still wants that kiss. I go back to the table, take a swig of my overpriced beer, and watch them dance from a distance.