by K. S. Thomas
“Done swooning over Andrew and his lawnmower, are we?” I swear, I spent months shacked up in barracks with men who hadn’t gotten laid in ages and were still less obsessed with sex than these girls. It’s kind of terrifying actually.
“Psh, that was days ago. Besides, he has a girlfriend anyway,” Ashlynn informs me.
“Oh, because otherwise, the twenty-one-year-old grandson from next door was a viable option for you?” Never mind that the shit’s illegal, at sixteen she should be dating boys who want to hold her hand, not screw her brains out in the back of their cars. So, basically I think she should go out with ten-year-olds year olds. Which I realize is ridiculous as well.
“You know what?” I yank the book from Hailey’s hand and press it to Ashlynn’s chest until she takes it. “Read that. Fictional men are probably your best bet right now, at least until I move out and this becomes Mom and Dad’s problem again.”
“Ooh, is this where I find the cowboys?” Ash starts to open the book when Hailey snatches it back again.
“No, firefighters. And you can have it when I’m done.” She scowls at me. Finally, a face I recognize.
“Meanwhile, Hailey and I are going to the movies. You girls wanna go?” A carefree, sexless, no brain required comedy would probably do us all some good.
“I’m in. Just let me text my aunt and let her know.” Madi zips back into Ashlynn’s room to get her phone and then all three girls and I are headed for the door.
“Liv says it’s cool. Just let her know when we get back and she’ll come get me.” Her fingers are zooming across the screen to text her back even as she says this.
“Tell her, no worries. I’ll just drop you off at home after.” I don’t know why I just offered that, except I’ve spent every day wondering when I’ll wander into my mom’s kitchen again and find Liv sitting in it. Supposedly, it’s a regular occurrence around here, and yet, I haven’t seen her again since that first time. That was ten days ago.
Turns out the movie wasn’t such a bright idea after all. Trapped in the dark like a sitting duck isn’t nearly as relaxing as it was before I knew what it was like to live in a war zone, anticipating the next attack around every corner, every second of the goddamned day.
The girls seemed to enjoy it though, and I’m trying my best to match their laughter, even now that we’re back in the truck and headed home. I have no idea what the movie was about because my mind was racing non-stop the entire time, making it impossible to retain any information about the storyline. So while the girls are recounting their favorite parts, I’m bullshitting my way through the conversation as best I can, hoping they won’t notice. Last thing I need is for one of them to mention something to my mom. She’s already up my ass about going to therapy, convinced I’m suffering from PTSD because she read one too many blog posts and articles while I was gone.
I’d go if I had PTSD. I don’t. I know this because I’ve been evaluated more than once in the last few years. Besides, it’s not like I walked straight out of a war and into my mother’s house. Sure, I was deployed twice while I was in the army, but I spent the last year stationed in Germany. Not a whole lot of battlefields to cross there.
Still, some things stay with you. Change you. Maybe for a while, maybe forever, I don’t know yet. It hasn’t been long enough to tell.
“Hey, can we grab a bite on the way home? I’m starving,” Hailey requests, rolling down the window and letting the wind catch her long hair.
“It’s late. Liv is probably waiting for Madi to get home.” It’s not that late, I just don’t want it to get any later. You don’t get invited inside when it’s too late, and I intend to get invited in tonight.
I can see Madi shrug in the rearview mirror. “I doubt it. She’s probably not even home yet.”
“What, she have a date tonight or something?” Like it’s any of my fucking business.
Madi laughs. “Yeah, her and Sketch had a super romantic night planned tattooing the same damn tribal heart on like fifteen sorority sisters who all wanted a matching tramp stamp.”
“Oh.” So, maybe tonight’s not the night I’m staging a run- in either. Dammit.
It’s not until I completely digest what Madi’s saying that I realize I’ve been gripping the steering wheel with an unusual amount of force. I shake out my right hand to release the tension. I was jealous. Insanely jealous. This could be a problem.
Especially if Hailey keeps eyeing me like that.
“Oh my God! Is Liv the babe you were going on and on about when you were on the phone with Memphis last night?” Apparently, just because her eyes are on the page of some trashy book it doesn’t mean Hailey’s ears aren’t fully capable of listening in on my conversations.
“No!”
She laughs. “Yeah. Yeah, she is.”
I can hear Ash snickering behind me. I’m about to apologize to Madi when I find out I have no reason to.
“It’s cool. We all know my aunt’s a hottie.”
“True that.” Hailey nods with such enthusiasm, I briefly wonder if she’s going to be my competition. “Too bad you don’t stand a chance with her.” Now I’m thinking she’s got the same idea about me.
“What the hell would you know about it?”
“Oh, it’s nothing personal,” Madi explains, and I start to worry Liv really is a lesbian, although, five years ago, that’s definitely not the impression I got from her. “She just doesn’t date.”
That I can work with.
“Ever?”
“Well, at least not in the five years since she came back to take care of me.” She plops back into the seat thoughtfully. “Huh. Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re kind of the last guy I’ve seen her with...in like, forever.”
Ash grips the back of my seat to pull herself up and meet my gaze in the mirror. “Yeah. What was up with you guys back then, anyway?”
I frown. “Nothing. Nothing was up with us. Mateo had just died. I was only being a good friend.”
“A good friend? When were you and Liv ever friends?” Hailey is enjoying taunting me about this. Apparently, the five years between us don’t give me any sort of advantage anymore now that we’re both adults.
“Whatever. I’ve known her for years. We all have. Of course I was going to be there for her when her father died. We all were.” It was a shitty week, and Liv, she was a mess. A freaking zombie one minute and a frazzled, rambling shell of herself feeling nothing beyond the surface stuff the next, until that last night when she broke down in my arms. I stayed with her all night, but my sisters and Madi don’t know anything about that.
“That’s fine. You can deny it all you like. We all know you have a little crush on her.” Hailey indulges in a self-satisfied giggle while the two girls in the back whisper to themselves at high speeds. God I miss being in the army.
Chapter Three
Heartbreaker
“Is that what you’re wearing to the barbecue?” Madi’s giving me a scrutinizing glare from the doorway.
“You have a problem with my outfit?” I step out in front of the mirror for the tenth time. It’s fine. The outfit is fine.
“I don’t have a problem with the outfit. I do have problem with you wearing it to a pool party.” She marches straight to my side and begins to tug at the material draped around my body. “Who wears layers to a Fourth of July barbecue?”
“Uh, women who are covered in ink and don’t want to make their very conservative friends uncomfortable.” I yank my arm away, moving my flowy long sleeves out of her grasp.
“Aunt Pru knows you have tattoos,” Madi counters.
“Obviously. But you and I both know how she and Rob feel about them. And today’s party is going to have a guest list consisting mostly of his friends and work associates, so, I don’t care if I have to sweat my balls off, this is what I’m wearing.”
Madi scrunches up her face. “Balls, Aunt Liv?”
I reach up and grab a boob with each hand. “Yeah. I’ve got balls. I j
ust keep them higher up than most.”
“You’re a freaking weirdo.” She shakes her head and walks away.
“Hey! What did I say about talking to me like that?” I shout after her.
“Fine. You’re a fucking weirdo,” she calls back.
“That’s better.” I have a sick aversion to people who won’t use the actual curse words. I’m saying, if you mean ‘fucking’ don’t pussyfoot around it or try to make it more socially acceptable by saying ‘freaking’. I’m probably not winning an aunt of the year award for that one, but then, I wasn’t in the running for one anyway.
I make one last stop at my dresser to retrieve a pair of sunglasses big enough to cover half my face, including the small collection of flowers I have permanently painted in the corner of my eye, then head for the door. It’s just one little barbecue, and while it’s a far cry from my usual crowd, I can definitely survive a couple of hours hanging with Rob and Pru’s people. If I’m completely honest, they actually have nothing to do with the cluster of nerves festering at the pit of my stomach.
By the time we arrive at the McNealys’ house, what started as a small cluster has grown into a massive tidal wave threatening to drown me from the inside out. I feel ridiculous.
“What’s wrong with you?” Madi hisses as we walk around the house to the backyard.
“I’m hot,” I lie. It’s completely plausible though, since my body is giving every indication I’m suffering from heatstroke. I can feel my cheeks flush and beads of sweat form on my forehead. Not to mention the nausea. Hey, maybe I am having heatstroke.
Meanwhile, Madi just scrunches her nose in the ‘know it all’ way only a seventeen-year-old can muster. “I told you that outfit was stupid.”
“You did.” I concede without a fight, because, frankly, I don’t have it in me right now. “I should have listened to you.”
She’s barely even paying attention to me anymore. Instead, she’s dashing off to meet Ash beside the pool, leaving me to fend for myself.
Normally, this suits me just fine. Unfortunately, I spend enough time in this house to be more than comfortable and I certainly know my way around. Parties like these, however, give me the willies. Something about seeing the stark contrast in social standing between me and the other side of Madi’s family just never sits all that well with me. It shouldn’t bother me, even if I know it bothers Pru. Maybe that’s why it gets to me, because I know how much Madi has benefitted from being welcomed into this family, and because I’m the reason she doesn’t have this life fulltime. Because I insisted on coming home to raise her myself after my father passed away. But then things haven’t been completely one-sided. Once school starts up again, the girls will be at my place full time. Even Hailey. I don’t even know what the draw is, other than my lax rules, reliance on their independence and insistence on their swearing with big girl curse words. I suppose it’s not all bad from a teenager’s perspective. During the summer the pool and neighbor’s grandson have me beat though. They’ll come around on rainy days, but that’s about it.
“You look like you’re about to start rocking back and forth. Want me to find you a nice corner to do it in?” Pru whispers. I didn’t even notice her sneaking up on me until she was standing right here.
“I’ve got my eye on the one next to the storage closet you keep all your pool stuff in, so I’m good thanks.” I’m joking of course. Sort of.
“I told you to come early. Give you a chance to settle in before all the people show up.” She holds a fruit tray in my direction and I don’t hesitate to scarf down three big chunks of watermelon. Maybe a little food in the empty pit will mellow the angry wave swooshing back and forth.
“I considered making a pre-party appearance.” It’s what I usually do. I’m not one for making an entrance. I’d rather just blend in with the background when everyone else gets there. Some might consider this ironic. Depending on the environment, blending in isn’t always at the top of my list of skills. Standing out, that I’m annoyingly good at. “But then I remembered how much work you made me do at Easter and I changed my mind.”
Pru tries her best at outrage but winds up laughing in the end. “You’re a brat, you know that? Some days I wonder how we’re even friends.”
“Because I’m the only woman you know who doesn’t walk funny from having a stick shoved up her ass, and you need that. A stick free woman friend.”
She giggles and hurries to cover her mouth. “You’re horrible, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I cock my brow and tip my head to the left, glancing in the general direction of a certain someone I usually refer to as Fancy Nancy, but whose actual name is Gwendolyn. No words are needed to make my point.
“Fine. Some of the women are wound tight enough to start a twister should they ever be cut loose. Speaking of, I need to make sure the bar is all stocked. Lucas was supposed to grab the last of the ice from the freezer in the garage. I’m starting to think maybe he got lost somewhere along the way.”
“Understandable. It’s a really big house.” I don’t know why I find my dry sense of humor so hilarious, but I do. And I’m trying really hard not to laugh at my own funniness right now. “Meanwhile, I can stock the ice for you.”
“You sure?” I can tell from the way she’s already moving away that she’s only asking out of curtesy. She’s definitely taking me up on my offer.
“Positive. In fact, I’d love any chores you’d like to send my way. Anything to keep me from having to mingle.”
She smirks. “I thought you said you didn’t like when I put you to work.”
“That’s before the party. When I can comfortably lounge around on your couch in private like a total bum, then yes, I prefer not to get any jobs from you that involve vacuuming or running the bug net through the pool one last time.” I don’t really mind doing it then either, I’m just giving her shit. However, I’m especially grateful for a task right now, even if I am taking it away from one of the many paid individuals running around here like chickens with their heads cut off because they can’t find anything to do. Pru’s funny that way. She’ll hire the caterer, wait staff and party planners and then she’ll still run ahead of everyone, doing everything herself.
In a hurry to avoid any unnecessary run-ins with people I don’t know and who would probably never cross my path intentionally under any other circumstances, I break into a mini-jog just to get inside. I could have just walked back the same way I came to get to the garage, but going through the house means I have access to air conditioning. I may be into self-torture a great deal of the time, but even I don’t enjoy the feeling of sweat pooling down the crease of my back.
“Hey, Liv.” Hayes doesn’t even look up from her book as she passes me on her way to the pool. I’m not sure which I’m more impressed by, the way she maneuvered around me and avoided a head on collision or the fact she knew it was me without even lifting her gaze from the page.
“New book boyfriend?”
She actually stops and turns around. Then, lo and behold, she even makes eye contact. “You’d like this one. He’s a psychiatrist who moonlights as a tattoo artist. Specializes in covering scars on victims of domestic abuse, then gives them free counseling sessions while they’re getting inked. Naturally, the woman he falls for is still trapped by the asshole beating her and now Dex has to save the day.” She’s positively swooning.
“Dex, huh? The therapist slash tattoo artist. Interesting combo. I suddenly feel very inadequate.” Considering I barely have a high school diploma, I probably won’t be adding Dr. anything to my title anytime soon though.
“Well, you’re not the hero of the story, so you don’t have to be that impressive.” Her tone and expression suggest she’s not trying to be insulting, and yet, I feel like I just got backhanded across my face.
“Come again?”
“In romance novels, a lot of the time, the heroine is some sweet and naïve virgin just bumbling along, completely unaware of her awes
omeness until the ‘bad boy with a heart’ hero comes along and shakes all of her tightly wound parts loose, setting her free and saving her in the process,” she explains, an air of whimsy about her as she dreamily stares off into nothingness.
I can feel myself scowl. “Does your mom know you read this shit?”
Highly affronted, Hailey clasps the book to her chest. “It’s not...” Then she whispers, “shit.”
“It is. It’s total shit,” I don’t whisper, “and here’s why: Every chick should be the hero of her own story. I’m not saying she can’t have a man by her side when she saves the day. I’m not even saying the guy can’t save it. I’m just saying he doesn’t save her. Nobody can save anybody except themselves. Trust me on this, Hayes. There’s no perk to being the dimwitted virgin. You get treated like an idiot and you never get laid.”
“Yeah, what she said,” the deep, silky rumble of his voice travels up from behind me, “except the part about not being the virgin. You go right ahead and be one of those for as long as you like.”
I force myself to keep my gaze on Hailey, who hasn’t been a virgin for four years and just rolls her eyes at the both of us and then turns to go without engaging any further, leaving me to fend for myself. It was bad enough when I could look at him and see all the hotness with my eyes. Not seeing him is almost worse. Just hearing him and his dark, rich voice leaves me completely devoid of any proof that he’s too young for me. Too young and too Pru’s son. Too Lucas. And too fucking weird.
Then, not turning around to face him totally bites me in the ass when he moves past me, brushing against my back and shoulder, making just enough contact so that I now know without a doubt that he really is one solid mass of carved muscle who just happens to reek of ‘do me’ aftershave. I want nothing more than to close my eyes and block out this entire experience, but I get the unnerving feeling he’s not passing to keep going, he’s passing to turn and talk to me some more. Closing my eyes is out. Facing forward with unwavering aloofness oozing out of me is in.
“You weren’t standing back there trying to smell me again, were you?” Okay, so aloofness is out as well.