Holden stood five feet away. Eyes red-rimmed. Cheeks crimson. Veins popping in his neck. “This your boyfriend?”
“That’s none of your damn business.” Knowing that answer wouldn’t suffice, I closed my eyes. Inhaled. Released a slow breath. “He’s not my boyfriend.” Calm, cool, collected, I asked, “What are you doing here, Holden?”
Holden’s face cooled five shades, regret flashing in his blue eyes. “I love you, Nats. Did our time together mean nothing to you?”
There was no right or wrong answer. So I stayed silent.
He ran a hand through his unwashed hair, glare bobbing between me and Cole. “Can we talk? Alone. Five minutes.”
I shook my head. “Talking won’t make a difference.”
At his sides, his fists balled, veins mapping a violent trail up his arms. “You can’t give me five fucking minutes to apologize?”
At my back, Cole’s chest tightened. His hand came to my neck, fingers curling into a loose grip.
I shrugged him off. Everything about his presence and my reaction added fuel to my fire. I stepped away from Cole, closer to Holden, my heart beating a daunting rhythm. “You don’t get it. You don’t have reason to apologize. You are who you are. The very first time I was uncomfortable with your behavior, I should’ve walked away. But I didn’t because I was blinded by your beauty and so damn desperate to be wanted. So that’s on me.”
“We had something good, baby.” His pecks rippled under his Gold’s Gym T-shirt.
“No, we didn’t.”
Holden winced but quickly recovered, shoving his hands into his loose sweatpants. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him out of sorts like this. His public persona was everything.
Pleading eyes met mine. “I would do anything for you.”
“What’s my favorite color?”
“Blue. You always wear that blue shirt.”
“No. I wore that because you liked that it showed off my tits.” I stabbed at my chest, poking too hard.
“What’s my favorite food?”
“Pizza,” he mumbled, unsure. “From Lennon’s.”
“No.” I huffed. “What’s my favorite song?”
“‘Someone to Watch Over Me,’” Cole whispered to my back.
Oh, my effin’ Lord. Emotion pricked my eyes. I blinked the threatening tears into oblivion and took another step away from Cole, the man I could never have, and one step closer to Holden, the man who never had me.
“Do I like to dance? Do I sing in the shower? What perfume do I wear? What do I do at my fucking job?”
Silence.
“You can’t love me,” I shouted, throwing my head back in frustration. “You don’t know me.”
“Nats.”
“And I hate being called Nats. It’s Natalie.” I turned to leave, then faced him again. “You need to find someone who you can’t help but learn those things about. Someone who’ll learn those things about you without you ever telling them.”
Hands to hips, Holden dropped his head. Huffed. Laughed. Stared at the floor. Chin down, he raised his eyes to meet mine. “Fuck. Fuck! I really fucked up with you, didn’t I?”
“We weren’t meant to be. That’s all.”
“I don’t agree.” He nodded. Rubbed his chin. “But I hear you.”
That was too easy. Something wasn’t right, but I continued. “Please, Holden. Can you stop with the stalker shit?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The phone calls. The posts on my social media.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The calls, the texts, all hours of the day from different numbers. The threats.”
Holden reached for me then dropped his arm. “I stopped after they dragged me out of the bank. I haven’t called you since.”
“God! I’m so done with men.”
“Natalie, I’m telling you the truth. I called your number three times since that day. Yes, I met you outside your apartment, hoping you’d talk. I was on my way to the gym when I saw you come in here. That’s it. I swear.”
His sincerity no longer mattered. “I gotta go.”
Strong fingers wrapped around my arm from behind. “Let me walk you.”
“No!” I snapped, jerking free of Cole’s grip and shoving past. “Just no.”
I hurried my pace, refraining from looking over my shoulder or scanning my surroundings when I reached my car. Un-fucking-believable. Bullshit, Holden hadn’t been calling me. My phone buzzed. I didn’t bother to look. And Cole? Seriously? How dare he know my favorite song?
I was officially done with men. With dating. With going to the gym. Or the flower shop. Or my favorite restaurant. Or anywhere in public.
Maybe a transfer out of state was in order. Yeah, that was a good idea.
My phone buzzed again. And again. All the way to my parent’s house in Ballard. I only dared to look after I parked in their driveway.
Lacey. Thirty-two texts. Ten Happy Birthday wishes. One picture. Her hand. A giant, shiny, glittering diamond ring.
I squealed. I cried. I didn’t call her back until after dinner.
“Not another word from him?” Lacey asked, hand shoved behind the left side of her black halter, adjusting her boob.
I swirled my straw in a slow circle before taking a sip of my vodka cranberry. “Radio silence.”
“That’s great!” Seemingly satisfied with the way her babies were hanging, she slapped her hands on the table.
In the opposite corner of The Rusty Ram, a rowdy group of twenty-somethings engaged in a shouting match. Security swarmed the corner, dragging one man outside.
“No bueno.” Eyes narrowed and aimed at the commotion, she pursed her bright red lips and asked, “You ever feel like we’re getting too old for this place?”
Hand to my heart, I shouted, “Never!” then added, “but I think I’d be just as happy sharing mozzarella sticks at Applebee’s.”
“God, I know.”
Lacey and I finished our drinks and maneuvered to the center of the crowd. Sweaty bodies bounced in unison, the heavy base a mind-numbing escape from the burden of the daily nine to five.
I watched my best friend, my heart full to the brim with love and joy. Every few minutes, she checked her hand as if afraid to lose her ring, or perhaps to remind herself that Ellis was real. She was on the brink of an epic adventure.
I swallowed the thick lump of bittersweet sentiment balled in my throat, realization crashing my buzz. Our girls’ nights were over. Our movie marathon, binge-eating sleepovers would soon be a thing of the past. My Lacey Lulu was no longer a she but a we. A we that did not include me, but instead, a man who was worthy of my best friend.
I fought to keep the emotion at bay, but a tear escaped and then another. Lacy stopped bouncing. There had never been such a wide divide between us.
Another fight broke out near the exit. Lacey ignored the disturbance. “We’re gonna be okay, Nat Brat. I promise.” Brushing a tear off my cheek, she smiled.
“I know. I’m just so damn happy for you.”
A pop, pop, pop rose above the music, loud enough to cause pain. Bodies blurred. Pop. Pop. Something wet hit my face. Something hard knocked me sideways. Lacey fell. I was shoved and pushed and carried away in a frenzied stampede of panic and mayhem.
I scrambled through a sea of skin and sweat, fighting a violent current to get back to my friend. Despite my efforts, I landed outside, Lacey nowhere to be seen. I scanned every face, every head of dark hair.
Soon the street was flooded in blue and red lights. Muffled voices surrounded me, none of them recognizable. The entrance was blocked.
Someone in a blue uniform made me sit against the wall.
I tried Lacey’s number. No answer. I sent a text. Waited. No response.
In a panic, I texted Ellis. I begged the woman in blue for help. She ordered me not to move.
My ear rang, pain clouding my senses. I closed my eyes and prayed.
“Natali
e.”
That voice. Gritty and anguished. Muted.
“Natalie. Jesus. Fuck. Somebody help her.”
I blinked my eyes open. My angel. My soulmate. My sinful temptation crouched in front of me. I’d managed two weeks without seeing Cole Adams.
“What are you doing here?” My words came out muffled.
“We were close when you texted.”
“We?”
“Ellis and I.” He reached up to touch my face, then dropped his hand. “Why isn’t somebody helping you?”
“Me? I’m fine. My ear just hurts.”
Again, he lifted his hand as if to soothe me, then changed his mind, gaze bouncing from my head to my chest, my cheek, my ear. His brows pinched tight. “What happened?”
“I think there were gunshots. I don’t know. We were dancing, then everyone started to run out. I lost Lacey.” My chest constricted. “Oh, my God! Where’s Lacey? She fell. Then I couldn’t get back to her.”
“Shh. Calm down. Try not to move.”
“We have to find her.” I tried to stand.
“Ellis is looking for her right now.” Cole clamped his hands on my thighs, holding me in place. “Natalie, don’t move.” He looked over his shoulder, yelled, “What the fuck’s taking so long. Get someone over here now!”
“Why does everyone keep telling me not to move? I’m fine. My ear just hurts.”
Cole’s eyes were liquid and angry. “You’re not fine.”
I dropped my head in frustration. A dark, wet, sticky blob landed on my hand. Violent trembles rocked my body. Another drip from my head.
Cole finally touched me, his finger tapping under my chin. “Natalie, look at me, not your hand.”
His face blurred. “No. No, no, no.”
“Look at me, Natalie.”
“No no no no no no.”
“Hey. I’m here. I got you. Just stay still until they get someone over here to clean you up.”
“That’s blood. That’s someone’s blood.” It wasn’t mine. I’d know if I’d been shot. I lifted my hand for inspection. “Oh shit, is that bone?”
Cole caught my chin again, holding my head steady, his hand trembling. “Natalie, just look at me, okay?”
“It’s in my hair.” On instinct, I reached up to inspect the damage.
“Natalie.” He grabbed my wrists and held them in place. “Please. Trust me. Don’t move.” He yelled over his shoulder. “Get someone over here now!”
“It’s not my blood,” I mumbled, unsure which of us needed the assurance most. I couldn’t look at Cole. I refused to look at my hand. I stared at his chest, rising and falling in short rapid bursts and tried my best to ignore the gore in my hair, or think about who the blood and bone had belonged to. Or how close I’d come to being shot.
My stomach lurched.
“Natalie.” Cole’s voice calmed. “I see Lacey. Ellis is with her. She’s on a gurney. It looks like they’re inspecting her leg. She seems fine.”
“Thank you, Jesus,” I said on a loud exhale.
Cole seemed to share my sentiment and fell on his ass next to me, releasing a long shaky breath, his hands now as bloody as mine.
The world spun. I barfed my drinks all over Cole’s lap.
“Say again?” I asked, my hearing still fuzzy.
I stood over Lacey’s bed, her hand in mine, her ankle in a wrap and properly elevated on a stack of pillows.
“I’m pregnant,” she whispered into my good ear, blinking at me through her one working eye.
“I don’t…” Pregnant? “I can’t…” Bittersweet elation filled my chest. “You’re gonna be a mom?”
Lips sucked between her teeth, she nodded.
“I’m gonna be an auntie?”
Lacey squeezed my fingers. “Best auntie ever.”
“Lacey.” Tears welled. “Lacey, this is crazy.”
“I know, right? Proposed to, caught in a gang shooting, nearly trampled to death, and impregnated all in the same month.”
“How did Ellis handle the news?”
“He wants to get married as soon as possible. Maybe a Vegas wedding next month. Or as soon as we can coordinate everyone’s schedules.”
“This is really happening, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
It was too soon. “He’s a very lucky man.”
“Nat Brat, you have to be there. You just have to. I can’t imagine doing this without you. If you can’t get time off, we’ll wait, but—”
I climbed into her bed and wrapped her in a full body hug. “I’ll be there. I’ll be there. Of course, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Miss what?” came Cole’s gruff voice, sending my heart racing.
I raised my head off Lacey’s chest to find Cole, Martin, and a sheepish looking Victoria standing just inside the doorway, each holding a bouquet of flowers for my crippled, bruised, and newly knocked-up friend.
“Do they know?” I whispered, hiding our faces behind my hair.
Ellis barreled through the crowd, taking up half of Lacey’s room, then piled on top of me hugging us both. “I’m gonna be a daddy.” He kissed my cheek, then hers. “And we’re heading to Vegas so I can make an honest woman of my lady.”
Martin’s face lit up, and he made a move to tackle his friend. For as large as he was, Ellis moved like a gazelle, springing to action, hugging his friend away from Lacey’s injuries.
Victoria stared at the floor.
Cole stared at his buddies, blinking his eyes. I could swear he was fighting tears but, damn, his dimples were tuned to megawatt. His feet shifted on the hardwood before he came our way, then bent to drop the sweetest kiss on Lacey’s forehead. “Congratulations, beautiful. You’re going to be a great mom.”
He was so close I could taste his breath—coffee and caramel. So tender with her, I swooned. So dreamy, I sighed.
Oh, shit.
I bolted to the sitting position. Cole’s gaze sliced right through me, quick and razor sharp, on his way to join in the man hugs with his buddies. As much as I wanted to stay with Lacey and cry, hug, and celebrate, I could not share that stifling space with Martin, Cole, and especially Victoria.
“I’m gonna head out.” I lifted Lacey’s shirt and dropped a kiss on her belly. “Bye, baby. Can’t wait to meet you.”
Her long fingers raked through my hair. “We’ll talk tomorrow?”
“Of course.” I kissed her nose.
“Bye, Nat Brat.”
“Bye, Lulu.”
“Hey, Victoria.” I offered a pathetic wave as I passed.
I couldn’t hear if she responded, my traitorous heartbeat deafening, the need to flee hurrying my pace.
I made it to the hallway and halfway to the elevator when a hand wrapped around my arm. “Hey, Nats, can we talk?”
My chest deflated, a slow leak. “It’s Natalie,” I reminded him. “And I have to get home.”
“Listen.” Martin dipped his head, wrinkles deepening between his brows. “You don’t have to leave on account of me.”
I shrugged free of his grip. “I’m not.”
His sigh was more irritation than relief. “We can be friends, you know.”
“Sure.” I took in his freckled face, his full lips. Felt nothing. “We can be friends.”
“We’re gonna celebrate.” He nodded toward Lacey’s door. “Why don’t you join us?”
“You guys have fun. I have to do laundry.” Ten paces from the elevator. Nine. Eight.
A heavy hand landed on my shoulder. “Nats. No need to be a bitch. This is about Ellis and Lacey, not you. So we didn’t work out. No big deal. We have to get over it for our friends.”
Bitch? Bitch? I turned so fast I teetered and instinctively grabbed Martin for balance.
Chest to chest, we locked gazes, mine heated, his hungry.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Snapping his arms around my shoulders, he dipped for a go at my mouth.
When my palm met his cheek, he jerked bac
k, then shoved me away, hard enough that I slammed into the wall and bounced right back to where I’d started.
“You fucking cunt,” he growled. “You don’t know what you’re giving up.”
Then and there, I lost my shit. I slapped him again. He thought I was done. I landed two good strikes before he wrestled my hands behind my back and had me pinned to his chest.
“Stop hitting me.”
“Stop being an ass.”
Whiskey-laden breaths hit my face. “Tell me the truth. Why’d you break up with me?”
“I’m not attracted to you. Simple as that.”
I had wanted to be. The man was definitely pretty to look at. Great body, not that I’d ever seen all of it. Sweet job. Fun to talk with when he wasn’t being a dick.
“We can give it another go.” He leaned closer. “I’ll be more present this time.”
“No, Martin. Now let me go.” I wiggled.
His grip tightened. “Not until you tell me the truth.”
“You want the truth? Fine. I’m in love with another man.” And that was true. So pathetic and painfully true. “I’m in love with a man I can never have. Happy now? Can you let me go?”
He didn’t. He walked me backward to the wall, then rested his forehead on mine, breaths labored. “We’re not so different, you and me.”
“How’s that?”
“I’m in love with a woman I can never have. Really fucking sucks.”
He wasn’t talking about me. That I knew. There was someone else. Had he cheated on me with the woman he loved, or had he cheated on her?
“We can help each other out.” His lips brushed my cheek. His hips curled, grinding against me. “Help each other forget these…other people.
“No.” I shrugged in vain, his hold too strong. “Let me go. You’re hurting my arms.”
“Not until you give me a goodbye kiss.”
“Let her go, Martin.” Cole’s face appeared inches from mine, murderous glare aimed at his best friend.
Martin didn’t back down, not right away. His tongue dragged along his bottom lip. He sneered. Looked at me. Looked at Cole. Then released my arms, throwing his own up in surrender as he backed away.
His cheek shone crimson where I’d hit him. He took a breath, then another. “I’m sorry, Natalie. I got carried away. I’m sorry.”
L.O.V.E. Page 10