by Lindsay Becs
I startle when I hear a knock on the bathroom door, followed by my brother’s voice. “Pops? You alright?”
“Yeah,” I reply, my voice sounding scratchy.
He opens the door without asking, and the second he looks at me, he knows I’m full of shit. Pulling me into a hug, he holds me like he has more times than I’d like to admit through the years.
I might act tough on the outside, but on the inside I’m a mushy mess of emotions that I don’t know how to handle. I easily break, and thankfully my little brother has always been my best friend, there to help put me back together.
“Come on, go change and clean up. We’re going out tonight,” he tells me, kissing me on the head.
“Harry…” I groan with protest, not feeling up to going out.
“I’m not letting you stay here and wallow by yourself. We’re going to get your mind off of whatever”—he pauses looking me over—“or whoever has upset you.”
Letting out a breath, I nod, conceding to him.
I jump in the shower and change but don’t try too hard. I braid half of my hair back, letting the rest air-dry as I swipe on some mascara and lip gloss. Good enough; I’m not trying to pick anyone up tonight.
Slipping on my Doc Martens, I tie them up and head down to meet my brother, who’s wait for me in his dark jeans and tight-fitting tee. I smile to myself looking at my little brother. He may only be fifteen, but he’s built for his age, looking closer to my age or older.
He holds out his hand to me, and I take it before he pulls me into his side as we walk out to my car. “This the only reason you wanted me to come with you? You needed a ride?” I ask with a knowing smile.
His teeth rake over his bottom lip as he tilts his head back and forth instead of actually answering me. I roll my eyes at him as I slip inside. “Where are we going?”
“Depends. How hard you want to party tonight? How badly do you need to forget?” he asks, scrolling through his phone.
“Not too hard but enough to clear my head,” I admit, letting my head fall back and closing my eyes for a second while I wait for him to plug in the pin to where we’re headed.
Twenty minutes later, we pull up to a warehouse in a part of Vegas I’ve never been before. I feel nervous as I park. “You sure about this place?” I ask, scanning the area around us.
“It’s this, or we go to Pete’s. Figured you’d rather here.” The asshole smirks. Pete is my ex who is always trying to get in my pants ‘one last time.’
“Here it is,” I say with fake excitement as we exit the car and walk to the entrance. “What is this place?” I ask as Harry pays the cover fee for both of us and we enter.
“Don’t worry about it. I got you, sis,” he tells me as we enter the large expanse of the building.
Holy shit. There are people doing everything from dancing to openly doing drugs to having sex for all to see in every corner of the low-lit underground club.
“Harry…” I start, but he turns to me and takes my hand with a reassuring squeeze.
“So, Pete’s?” he asks as we turn for the exit. We both hold in our laughter until we reach the car. Closing the doors, we look at each other and burst into hysterics.
“Do I want to know how you found out about this place?” I ask him when I start to calm down, wiping away tears from laughing.
“Sonny told me about this place. All he said was it was an underground club with all the hottest shit. I didn’t know he meant that,” he tells me with a hand pointing toward the building we just left filled with debauchery.
Sonny Knight is one of Harry’s best friends. His family is a little different from most, but he’s not all bad. He’d hang with us a lot when our parents were traveling, and I’m sure he still does.
“Well, I think you might need to reconsider who your friends are and what they consider to be ‘the hottest shit,’” I mock as I back up and leave the way we came.
“Ya think?”
I pull into Pete’s long drive that takes you back to his parents’ mansion. His parents headline one of the biggest shows on the Las Vegas strip. Taking what feels like the millionth deep breath of the day, I prepare myself before walking into my ex’s house.
You can feel the loud music vibrating through the house as we walk up to the door and push it open. I might not be happy about where we are, but I’ll take a regular house party any day over the shitshow we just left.
“No fucking way! The royal family is gracing us with their presence?” Pete mocks us as we step inside. His eyes look bloodshot already from probably snorting something and drinking since he woke up this morning. Both reasons we broke up.
“Peter,” I say to get under his skin as I brush past him and head to the kitchen to find my own drink. I’ve already downed several gulps of vodka straight from the bottle when Pete finds me.
“Come on, Pops,” he croons, stepping up behind me and pressing his already hardening cock against my ass crack. “Don’t be such a bitch, and have fun with me tonight. We never got a bonus night. Give in just one more time, baby,” he slurs, pressing wet kisses to my neck.
Hating myself for even considering it, I close my eyes, trying to convince myself that it feels good and it’s what I want tonight. But I know it’s not.
His hand slides up the inside of my shirt, cupping my breast. He gropes me, and I let him as he grinds against my ass. I’m not sure why I’m letting him use my body right now, not like I’m enjoying any of it, but I’d rather think about this than be lost in my thoughts of Zander.
“Fuck, Poppy, I’ve missed you. No one can work me up like you,” Pete groans into my ear. His voice snaps me out of it, waking me up to the fact that this is the furthest thing from what I want or need right now.
Pushing Pete’s hand out of my shirt, I step away. “Thanks, I’ll take it as a compliment. But I’m good, Pete. No bonus night needed.”
“You’re a fucking cock-tease and a prude,” he spews at me, gripping his hard cock through his pants in an obscene gesture.
I throw up my middle finger at him as I roll my eyes. Grabbing the bottle of vodka, I leave him there alone to nurse his blue balls. I guess I should feel a little bit bad, but I don’t.
I hit the makeshift dance floor with my dancing partner for the night—vodka—and let the music help me get lost and forget for now.
Groaning at the painful sun shining into my eyes, I pull the blanket up over my head to block it out. Why did I drink so much last night? Oh, that’s right. Because I’m stupid and thought it would help me forget about my problems.
I fall back asleep, and when I wake up again a couple hours later, I take a shower to wash away all the bad mistakes from the day before.
“You look like shit,” Harry tells me when I enter the kitchen for some water.
I flip him off and reach for the tea kettle. “You want some?” I ask, pointing to the tea I’m beginning to make.
“No, grandma, I’m good.”
“Shut up,” I chuckle.
“Some of us didn’t drink an entire liquor store last night.”
“Why didn’t you cut me off?” I ask, rubbing my temples.
“I tried, but you yelled at me that the bottle was your new boyfriend and no one could take him from you,” he laughs.
“Oh, shit. I was plastered,” I admit as the kettle begins to whistle. “Thanks for getting me home.”
He scoffs, “I told you I had you last night. I’d never let anything happen to you, Pops.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say, punching his shoulder.
“If it’s any consolation to you, I think Zander is an idiot for messing things up with you.”
“Wh-what makes you say that?” I sputter, surprised that he put it together.
“It was obvious the way you two eye-fucked each other at the banquet the other night,” he laughs.
“Shit,” I mumble as I rub my head again. “Thanks, but I’m the one who fucked it all up.”
He lifts a shoulder. “Then f
ix it,” he says, biting into an apple.
“I don’t know how,” I sigh before taking a sip of my tea, hoping it’ll calm my nauseous stomach.
“Maybe Aunt Penny will know,” he offers. “She’s tight with him, right?”
I nod slowly. “They used to be. I don’t know if they are as much anymore.”
“Worth a shot,” he says, tossing his apple core in the trash. “I gotta run, but hit me up if you need anything.”
“Thanks, little brother.” I smile.
He points at me as he backs out of the kitchen with a smile of his own and a wink.
This is probably a terrible idea, I think to myself as I push my aviators to the top of my head and knock on my aunt’s door. I hear her new baby fussing on the other side, making me feel bad for not calling first.
“Hey, Pops,” she greets with a tired smile.
“Hey, Aunt Pen. I’m sorry… is this a bad time? I should have called first.”
“No, you’re fine. This little man fusses no matter what,” she says, smiling down at the baby in her arms. “Come in.”
I follow her inside, my eyes going wide as I take in the explosion of baby things everywhere. “Do you need help with anything?” I offer cautiously.
“I know, it looks bad, but we’re okay,” she says as she pops out her boob and sticks baby Lincoln to it. “What’s going on? It’s not like you to just stop by. Everything alright?” I fidget nervously, not sure how to start. “Spit it out, Poppy.”
Taking a deep breath, I begin. “Zander and I kind of became involved on the road,” I say slowly.
“Oh…” she says wide-eyed.
“Uh, yeah,” I reply, scratching my head. “We got really close and things evolved.”
“Okay… Do you love him?”
Not meeting her eyes, I nod my head. “I think so.”
“Does he know that?”
I shake my head. “He told me he was falling for me and asked me how I felt about him, and I couldn’t answer him.” I look up at Penny as a tear rolls down my cheek. “He got so upset and mad at me he told me to leave.”
She lets out a frustrated groan. “That man, I swear.”
“I don’t know what to do now. I’m still scared, but I don’t want to lose him either.”
“That’s all understandable, but you should have told him that.”
“I know. I messed it all up.”
“Did he leave for Cali yet?” she asks, and I feel a twinge of jealousy that she knows about his life there.
“He asked me to go with him in a few days, but after everything, I’m not sure if he left early or not.”
She reaches for her phone and types out something, smiling at it when she receives a text message. “He’s there. He left yesterday,” she says, triumphant that she got answers for me. “You should go.”
“To California?” I ask, surprised by her suggestion.
She nods as she tucks her boob away and picks the baby up to burp him. “Yep. Make the big gesture and tell him how you feel. It’s okay to be scared but tell him that. Talk to him and work things out together. If you really love him, that’s what I think you should do.”
I chew on my lip, mulling over her suggestion. “I think you’re right.” I smile.
“I know,” she says, sounding satisfied with herself. “I have to ask though, do your parents know?”
“No,” I tell her, embarrassed now for putting her in a similar spot as before.
“Poppy,” she groans out my name.
“I know. I’ll tell them. I just have to wait until I know for sure that things are going to work between Zander and me first.”
She studies me for a minute before nodding her head in agreement. “Okay. And just so you know, Zander and I only kissed a couple times. We never slept together,” she tells me.
“Uh… thanks?”
“Sorry,” she laughs. “But I had to make sure you knew that he and I were ever really only friends. My heart always belonged to Jesse.”
I smile at my aunt, thinking about how she married her best friend. “I can’t say that I’m sorry about that.”
She laughs harder. “I guess not. But you know what I learned? Through everything, I learned that no matter how much you might push someone away, if they’re who you’re meant to be with, it’ll happen. When the time is right, love prevails and we open our eyes to what’s right in front of us. Don’t let fear keep you from happiness, Poppy. No matter the consequences.”
“Thanks, Aunt Pen.”
I tell her goodbye and make my way home to pack.
Looks like I have a trip to prepare for.
12
Zander
I find myself driving around aimlessly. Cruising through the streets and neighborhoods I tried my damnedest to escape. The drug deal by kids who have barely hit puberty. Gang members watching every car that drives by, waiting for the bullets to fly. The pimp smacking one of his girls for not getting in the car with the sleazy guy who rolled down his window for her. The young mother trying to protect her child who entered the world before she had a chance to graduate from high school. The family that doesn’t speak English but is so grateful to be here, they feel like royalty among the criminals.
Rubbing my stubbled jaw, I watch it all in my rear-view mirror as I make my way back to my house in my gated community, with my comfy bed, cleaners I hire, and a kitchen stocked with food.
Sometimes I feel guilty for what I have, for leaving my Grams there when she should be here with me. But that woman wouldn’t move no matter how much I tried to convince her. She’ll hardly accept any money I attempt to give her, but it’s the least I can do after she raised me.
Squinting as I pull up to the locked gate, I notice a car parked there off to the side and a person sitting on the hood. Then, I get close enough to make them out and see it’s Poppy. My heart begins to hammer in my chest. I have no idea what she’s doing here, but I’m glad to see her. I’ve missed her from the moment she walked out of my door.
Throwing my car into park, I step out. “You lost?” I ask her as I walk toward her, turning my ball cap around.
She hops down from her hood and meets me. “No, I just found what I was looking for.” She smiles shyly, looking up at me through her lashes.
Crashing my lips to hers, I kiss her like it’s been years since I’ve seen her instead of a day. I missed her the second I drove out of Vegas. My chest has ached from the separation between us.
I command her mouth and kisses, letting her know exactly how I feel about her being here. Our tongues duel for dominance, but I’m not giving in to her. Not tonight anyway. Grabbing a handful of her hair, I pull, tipping her head back to look at me.
“I want to be mad at you still,” I tell her as I nip at her swollen lips. “But I can’t be. Not when you followed me here.”
“I’m sorry,” she says so quietly I almost don’t hear her. “I was scared.”
Softening my hold on her, I kiss her once more. “Are you still scared?” She nods her head. “Me too.” She looks up to meet my eyes then. Cupping her face in my hands, I search her for answers to all the questions I have while she looks into mine, hoping for answers of her own. Leaning forward, I kiss her forehead. “Come on.”
We get back into our respective cars, and I punch in the security code for the gate to open. Poppy follows me down to my house, parking next to me. I still can’t believe she’s here. Quickly exiting my car, I go to her and hold out my hand. She accepts, lacing our fingers together as I walk us into my home.
She stops, pulling me to face her once we’re inside. I see tears shining in her eyes, and I want to take them all away from her. She takes a step closer to me, reaching up to put a hand on my cheek.
“I love you, Zander.” Hearing those beautiful words from her is one of the greatest moments of my life. She closes her eyes, causing a tear to fall down her cheek. Leaning toward her I kiss it away.
“I’m so fucking in love with you, Poppy,” I repl
y, with my lips brushing against her tear-streaked cheek.
“You shouldn’t be,” she whispers, her breath skating across my skin.
“I can’t help it. I hate nothing about you.” I smile, running my nose along the side of her face.
Stretching onto her tiptoes, she seeks my mouth for a hungry kiss. She moans when I palm her ass, pulling her into me, grinding my erection against her. Slowing down, I pull away and hear her whimper, making me smile.
“You hungry?” I ask. She gives me a confused look like I may have lost my mind. Maybe I have.
Maybe I should be taking her to my bed to prove to her how much I love her. But it feels different. I want it to be different with her this time. I want her to know and see that this is more than sex and a good time; this is for real. At least it is for me.
“Sure,” she says hesitantly. “I could eat.”
She follows me into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, I pull out chicken and bell peppers. Motioning for her to sit at the counter, I line up everything I need. Filling a pot of water, I place it on the stove and wait for it to come to a boil as I begin cutting up the vegetables. Poppy has already connected her phone to my Bluetooth speaker and has music flowing through the kitchen.
“Can I help you with anything?” she asks with a shy smile.
“Do you know how to cook?” I counter.
“Not really,” she laughs. “But I can open cans and stir like a champ,” she adds, flexing her arms.
“Maybe you should just sit this one out… champ,” I tease while I wash my hands after cutting up and seasoning the chicken. It sizzles and pops in the pan, filling the room with aromas of garlic and herbs.
Dropping the pasta into the boiling water, I notice her get up and begin to look through the cupboards. “You have any wine?” she asks with her head inside my pantry. I use a spoon to swat her ass, which is sticking out since she’s bent over. “Ouch!” she yelps, rubbing her butt.