Forever (This #5)

by J. B. McGee

  I can’t hide my smile from him at the thought of him on his knees begging. “I told you this move is not just for Ryan.”

  He glances away. “I know. See. Mood ruined at the mere mention of his name. Which way to your kitchen?”

  I point to my right, his left. “It’s right through there. Why?”

  “Please tell me you have some liquor in there.”

  “Ha. I’m more of a wine person.”

  “So, no liquor?”

  “A little early to be drinking, isn’t it?” There’s nothing sexy about a drunk man. In fact, I won’t have one.

  “It’s not for me. It’s for you.”

  “Sorry. What?”

  He glances over his shoulder. “We’re going to do a shot. You’re so much easier to reason with once you’ve had a little alcohol. At least you were that day at the club.”

  The day I found out Bradley had told Gabby about our deadbeat, drunk, abusive father living in Atlanta. Except, he’s apparently only that type of father for us. He’d managed to get his life together for his new family. My car seemed to have driven itself to Joe’s club. He does some private investigator work on the side, and Bradley had hired him to look into Gabe, my father. Gabe owns a coffee shop Gabby had been studying at. Gabby had gone missing when she was told about Gabe being right under her nose all that time, and my head was a clusterfuck. But I was mainly pissed at Gabe for bringing all the drama back into my life. The visit to Joe’s had backfired in my face. My quest for answers had resulted in more questions because it was the first time my body responded to him.

  I blamed the growing warmth that coursed through me on the liquor.

  His arms flex beneath the cotton of his black T-shirt as he reaches above the fridge to open the cabinet. My neck heats, then my cheeks. My pulse starts to beat in my ears.

  Clearly it was not the liquor that day at the bar.

  My body leans against the doorway. “Joe, no amount of alcohol is going to change my mind about my decision. It’s moving day. Besides…”

  He looks back at me, a smirk on his face. “Besides…?”

  “I don’t drink this early in the morning. My father. He was a drunk, which you already know.” His smirk is erased and replaced with a frown. “I’ve never wanted to need alcohol as soon as I wake up.”

  He closes the cabinet. “Who said anything about you needing it?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He nods. “Yeah. I get it. I also get fucked up parental situations.”

  We’ve talked about a lot of things, but not a lot about his family other than the dynamic between him and his brother. “Do you?”

  He pulls a chair out, turns it around, and straddles it. His arms drape around the back, and he’s panty melting sexy. But this is Joe. He knows he exudes sexiness. He’s used to women falling at his feet. He’s probably doing this on purpose. This is his version of Operation Change Sam’s Mind. Right down to arriving early so he’d have alone time with me. I would smile, but even if it’s some covert mission of his, I like that he’s about to open up to me in a way he’s never done before.

  “Yeah. Ryan’s always been the prodigal son. He had the best grades, the most clubs. You know in the yearbook your senior year how they list all your accomplishments beside your senior picture?”

  I nod. Mine was one of the longest entries.

  “Well, they had to cut stuff back on his because there was so much. Mine had nothing but sports stuff.” He shrugs. “Which I couldn’t have cared two fucks about. Ryan went to undergrad, then to med school. I got decent enough grades to get into Clemson. That’s where I met Bradley, you know.”

  “Right.”

  “But anyway, even though I was the best athlete and a decent student, it was never good enough for my father, and my mother never did anything to stick up for me. Ryan and I would fight, and they’d always side with him. Eventually, I quit caring what they thought.” He looks down at the ground. “I was determined to embarrass them as much as possible. It’s like being myself was never enough for them.”

  My heart feels like it’s salt water taffy being stretched and pulled in different directions by hooks. “Joe…”

  “I decided to live my life for me and no one else. And doing that, I found happiness and true friends because I was true to myself.”

  “Right.”

  His hand strokes the scruff on his jaw. “I bought everything I could buy. Nice cars, fancy houses, boats, ya know.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “But the one thing I want, that I don’t already have, I can’t buy. Damn if I’m not back in high school feeling all inferior again. To him.”

  And the taffy just broke.

  “Sam. When I told you I let you see what I want you to see, it was true. And I’m showing you a side of me no one else gets to see. He’s not good enough for you. But if I’m honest, neither am I.”

  The doorbell rings. We both freeze, our eyes locked. He pushes the chair out from under him and in two long strides he’s in front of me with his arms boxing me into the wall. “The difference between us is he feels entitled to you. Everything comes easy to him. Everyone’s always bowed at his fucking feet.” His forehead rests on mine, and he closes his eyes as the doorbell rings again. “I’ll never feel like I deserve you, and I’ll work my ass off every day to make sure I keep you because you’re rare, Sam. And you should be treated like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. You’re not even supposed to exist you’re so damn good.”

  He drops his arms. “You should probably get that before Bradley kicks the door down.”

  I gulp, then let the giggles bellow out of me. “He would so do that, wouldn’t he?”

  Joe smirks, and I’m so relieved that after all the things he’s just said to me, he flipped a switch and we can be silly. “Yeah. He would.”

  I’d been hanging out studying at Ryan’s apartment when he got called in to the hospital. Rather than packing and leaving, I decided to stay until my shift started. Sometimes I wonder why I bothered to get my own place when I moved here. It seems like I barely even go there. Mom made Gabby promise to not have sex until she got married. I’d already done the deed, so that promise wasn’t applicable to me. But I figured the next best thing would be keeping my own place until marriage. That way if something ever happened between me and Ryan, it’d be less messy. Nothing complicates a relationship more than comingling assets and finances. The house phone rings, and I usually don’t answer, but this time is different. My lips curve in a smile as the caller ID flashes a familiar name. “Hello.”

  “Hey, Sam,” Joe says. “Ryan around?”

  “Nope. He got called in.”

  “Oh.” There’s a moment of silence, and I find myself pacing back and forth in the same spot. “What are you up to?”

  “Just studying. What are you up to?” Really, Sam?

  “So…are you living with my brother now?”

  The conversation we had on the phone after the wedding creeps in my mind. “No.” I shake my head as if he can see me. “I still have my place. I was here when Ryan got called in. Instead of going home, I just told him I’d lock up before I leave for the hospital.”

  “So do you two actually get to see each other much?” His voice is deep and low.

  “Eh. I guess as much as it’s to be expected at this stage in our lives.”

  I hear him rustle around. He kinda groans, and something deep within me shifts. My pulse quickens. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m at the lake house. I decided to come out here and watch the sunset.”

  “So why were you groaning?”

  He chuckles. “I didn’t know I did. I guess it was from me fixing the lounge chair out here on the deck.”

  “Hmm. Whatever.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Sorry. What?”

  “Did you like my groaning?”

  Heat consumes me. “Um.” I can’t admit that now that I think about it, I did. And what does t
hat mean? What does that say about me? Ever since the wedding, I’ve been hyper aware of everything Joe does and the response it gives me. So far, nothing has left me unfazed.

  “You did.” His voice is smooth, seductive. “Admit it.”

  “I was just curious what you were doing.” I make my way to the couch, tucking my leg under me, and will myself to stop fidgeting. “I bet the sunset is beautiful this time of year.”

  “The only thing that’d make it more beautiful is if I were watching you watch the sun go down.”

  “Joe…”

  “Sorry. It’s true, though.”

  We’re dancing a very dangerous tango, but apparently we don’t know any other dance. “I gotta go.”

  “No, you don’t.” He breathes into the phone. “You’re just running away from whatever this is.”

  I wrap my arms around my waist. “I have to study. Then I have to go do my shift.”

  “Okay. Bye.”

  “Bye, Joe.”

  I hang up, but I already miss his voice. I miss the way it makes my lips curve into a smile. I miss whatever it is he does that makes me get that rush of adrenaline surging through my veins. Even if it’s danger. Even if it’s forbidden because I’m dating his brother. Even if it’s wrong. I’ll never act on it, and eventually, he’ll move on. This has to be a case of Joe wanting what he can’t have, but what his brother has. Like they’re five and I’m the toy they’re fighting over. I’d be lying to say it doesn’t feel good to be fought over.

  Grabbing one of my books, I bury myself back in my work. There’s barely enough time for one guy in my life, let alone two. I glance at the clock. There’s one hour left until I need to get ready.

  Nissen Fundoplication, I write on the front of the white index card, then flip it over and write the number one.

  On a second card, I write, surgical procedure sometimes referred to as a wrap because the top of the stomach is wrapped around the bottom of the esophagus in cases where the lower esophageal sphincter is not working properly. This procedure is done in severe cases of reflux where symptoms are found to be life-threatening. Complications can include dumping syndrome, swelling at the wrap site, and damage to the Vagus nerve. Then, I flip it over to the back and write the number one again. So many people do front and back flash cards, but this works better for me. I grab another card and proceed to write another term and definition. Fifteen cards later, my cell rings. My eyes wander to the clock. Ten minutes left until I need to get ready. The ringing volume increases, so I drop my pen and notecards and pick it up. Joe’s handsome smirk flashes before my screen. Why’s he calling back?

  I tap the green button to answer. “I’m beginning to think you’re like a needy teenage boy.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Seriously. You’re breaking your records for most phone calls in a day.”

  “Two phone calls makes me needy and breaks my record?”

  I laugh. “Well, technically you texted me this morning. So, this is three times in one day. Two of which are in the last hour.”

  “You don’t like my texts?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Since the wedding, I get random conversation starter texts from Joe. Something like, “Did you know people who easily blush are more likely to be good lovers?” Most of the time they are worded so they are innocent because he could send them to anyone, but they always make me do just that. Blush. It’s like it’s his way of letting me know he’s thinking about me. And I can never ignore them. “They’re always interesting facts. Most of which I’ll never use again unless I plan to audition for Jeopardy.”

  “I bet you could rock Jeopardy.” He grunts. “Damn.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just thinking about you dressed up, standing in front of that podium with a clicker in your hand and your chin high, giving answers in the form of a question.”

  “And…”

  Silence.

  “Joe…”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Since when do you ask if you can ask? One of the things I love about you is you speak your mind. Sometimes to an uncomfortable point, but still…” My blood rushes to my brain, making me light-headed, then heats and radiates through my body like I’m a heating coil that’s been plugged into an electrical socket. The surge is almost too much—almost enough to flip the breaker.

  “I don’t want to beat a dead horse.”

  “Okay…” I glance at the clock. Time is ticking, and I compute the amount of time I can sacrifice from getting ready to stay on the phone with him.

  “Do you really see my brother being the one for the rest of your life?”

  “Um.” Yes. This is the dead horse.

  “Like right now. You’re at his house. Let’s pretend you’re married.” He huffs. “And you’ve had a child. That thought alone fucks with my head, but this is all hypothetical, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And you have a shift, and Ryan gets called in.”

  “So.”

  “So, who takes care of your child?”

  “Doctors marry doctors all the time. They figure it out. What’s your point?”

  “You’ve said before you want your kids to be with their parents as much as possible.”

  “Yeah, which is why I’m thinking of going into pedatrics. I’ll work during the day, some nights on call, but my husband would be there for that.”

  “Not if your husband is Ryan, who gets called in at all hours. What if you’re both called in?”

  I start to pace. “I have to get ready for work.”

  “Look at how much he already misses. He couldn’t even help you move. Not that I’m complaining he missed that.”

  I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “Is there some point in this?”

  “Yeah. I think you’re with the wrong guy. I think you need to be with someone who would want to be a stay-at-home dad, so you can have the career you want. That you’re working so hard for.”

  My laughter echoes through the apartment. “You go find me a guy who’d be fine to be a stay-at-home father and let me know. One who’s not a deadbeat drunk, that is.”

  “You’re talking to one.”

  “You can’t be serious.” I guffaw.

  “I, personally, think I’d make an excellent father.” He pauses, and I can’t form words. “I’ve had my career. I’ve made a lot of money. I’m ready to settle down. Anyway, the thought of giving my children a home free of dysfunction delights me.”

  “Does that even exist? I wouldn’t know.”

  “I would hope so, Sam. I sure hope so.” There’s another pause. “Can you really see a life with my brother?”

  “Why do you think so poorly of him? Y’all have always seemed to get along well.”

  “We do get along fine, and I don’t think that poorly of him.” He hesitates. “Except where you’re concerned. I’m certainly not one to judge a lifestyle. But Bradley’s not the best match-maker.”

  “C’mon. That’s not fair.”

  “He picked the wrong brother, Sam.”

  “Joe…” My cheeks redden, and the hairs rise all over my body. “You can’t keep saying stuff like this to me.”

  “What’s said is said. It can’t be erased. That day you pulled up in front of my bar and denied you were outside while I was staring right at you…I knew Bradley had picked the wrong brother for you.”

  “You just want what you can’t have. I think they call it sibling rivalry.”

  “That’s not true. I can have you. I will have you. I’m just trying to figure out how long you’re going to deny it.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Change the subject.”

  “To what? The way you blushed the entire time we were dancing at the wedding? The way your hand trembles when it’s in mine? The way I bet your face is on fire right now just hearing these words?”

  “I have to go.”

  “Don’t.”

  Sile
nce.

  “Goodbye, Joe.”

  My last exam didn’t start until late afternoon. It’s already dark, and while I know we’re in a safe community, I hate pulling into our driveway alone. I push the button on the garage door opener, and I’m pleasantly surprised to see Bradley’s car parked in his spot. Pulling in beside his, I can’t wait to get inside, shed all these excess layers of warm clothes, and start making our holiday traditions. It’s the weekend, but it’s also the start of my winter break.

  Even though we were together last year for Christmas, that was different. We’d not even made love. I turn the key, then open the door. Immediately, I inhale the aromas of garlic, tomato, and oregano. “Mmm. Smells like Italy in here.”

  I hang my keychain in the designated spot on the wall. Bradley had been quick to install a hook for them after several scavenger hunts trying to trace their last location. He’d always say, “If you put them where they belong, you wouldn’t lose them.”

  Of course, my retort was perfect. “If they had a place, I’d put them there. But where exactly is their home anyway?”

  The last time he pushed me against the wall, thrusting his narrow hips into mine, then kissed me as if his life depended on it. Bradley pulled away, gasping for air in the best of ways. He smirked. “They’ll have a home tomorrow, smarty-pants.”

  The next day, when I walked in from the garage, as promised, there were two beautiful, ornate pewter hooks that said His and Hers by the door.

  I’m brought back to reality by his deep, sexy voice. “How was your exam?”

  My lips curve into a smile. It’s the little things: the hooks and the cooking. My heart has been in this perpetual state of bliss, and I hope it never ends. “Feel pretty good about it.” I kick my shoes off into the corner of the mudroom, toss my scarf, coat, and gloves into one of the cubbies under the white bench against the wall, and walk through to the kitchen. He’s only wearing a pair of sweats. As I push my front to his back, I squeeze his waist. I stand on my tippy toes to reach the nape of his neck and plant a delicate kiss. “Finals are finished.” Another kiss. “I’m officially on winter break.” Longer kiss. “You’re home early…and cooking.” Moving my attention to that spot behind his ear he likes so much, I begin to swirl my tongue. “Could the day get any better?”