“Looks like your dance partner’s back,” she said. “So now you can get back to doing nothing. Pun intended.”
Before I could reply to her smartass remark, Kristin came up behind me and dragged me away. I followed her back onto the dance floor where she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close. Even so, I kept glancing over to the other side of the room more times than I cared to admit. Once or twice, I caught Caitlyn looking back at me, too, but she didn’t hold my gaze, quickly turning her attention back to Cheyenne and even shifting in her seat so as to turn slightly away from me.
CHAPTER NINE
CAITLYN
†
WHEN CHEYENNE AND I were kids, we did everything together. Teachers tried to split us up so that we’d branch out and make new friends, but they gave up in the end because we’d always gravitate back to one another. We were lab partners, we stood side by side on the cheerleading team, and we even ran for class president as one, shoving our arms through an overgrown sweater to pretend we were conjoined twins. We didn’t win. In fact, Kristin Baxter did.
I’d always liked Kristin. She was a quiet kind of girl, but she had a great sense of humor and she was a hard worker. She said all the right things to all the right people and she got along with everybody. If ever Cheyenne was not at school, off sick, I’d take Kristin as my lab partner. I liked her.
But, when I saw her falling all over Logan in the bar, I didn’t like her that much anymore. I’d have happily gone up to her, tugged her skirt down, pulled her top up and tell her to behave in a manner befitting the librarian assistant she was. She clung to Logan like a pigeon to a roof slope.
I was mad and I couldn’t understand why it upset me that much to see the two of them together. All I knew was that, although I’d been looking forward to spending some time with Cheyenne, share a couple of drinks and have a meal with my best friend, now, I wanted nothing at all. I felt sick to my stomach.
I could see that Cheyenne wasn’t too impressed, either, the disapproving look on her face telling the whole story. “Slim pickings tonight, for sure,” she said, and she downed her drink. She’d always been able to drink more than I could, and it seemed nothing had changed. I was still making my way through my first glass of premixed vodka and cranberry juice, poured from a can.
Cheyenne craned her neck and eyed some of the hard stuff sitting on the top shelf on the back wall behind the bar. She pointed to a bottle of rum.
“Mike! I’ll have a double with ginger ale, thanks.”
“Coming right up, little lady,” Mike said, lazily plodding over to the bottle and fixing her what she ordered. She was nervous, I could tell, and she leaned a little sideways on her stool to try and peek through the kitchen doors, checking if she could catch sight of Parker.
“Why don’t you just ask him out on a date?” I asked. “It’s like I’ve been away for five years, but everything here’s as if frozen in time. You clearly still have a crush on Parker-”
“And you still have a crush on my brother,” Cheyenne cut in. I drew in a sharp breath, then blushed and quickly twisted my face into an expression I hoped looked like incredulous disdain.
“Are you kidding?” I asked. “I might have thought he was cute when I was fourteen and didn’t know any better but, believe me, I’ve totally outgrown that crush since then.”
“Oh, really? Is that why you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off him for the last twenty minutes and why you look like you’re ready to gouge Kristin’s eyes out with a spoon?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, tossing my hair back over my shoulder. “You’re imagining things.”
Obviously, this wasn’t true. Even now, as I tried not to look over at him, I couldn’t resist. He was so beautiful. He was wearing smart blue jeans and a t-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, showing off every ripple of his well-defined torso. I sighed inwardly.
Yep. Sometimes God gives with both hands!
But, my best friend didn’t need to know about all the times I’d been thinking lustful thoughts about her brother. I wasn’t even sure why I kept it from her, either. Maybe it was the one secret I wanted to keep just to myself.
She narrowed her eyes and glared at me, and I sipped at my drink as innocently as I could. Then she switched tack and began to talk about my life back in Montpelier.
“Please tell me you’ve had a date since the last time we spoke on the phone,” she said. “You have, right?”
I didn’t need to say anything. She knew the answer and groaned. “Come on, Caitlyn!” she cried. “You’re twenty-two and you’re still hanging onto your virginity like a goddamn security blanket!”
“Hush!” I said loudly. “It’s not as simple as that. Besides, I haven’t met the right person yet.”
It might sound strange, but the reason I’d never gone through with it hadn’t been obvious to me until that very moment. It was only as we sat at the bar and I looked over at Kristin Baxter clinging to Logan and fondling his ass that I finally understood why I’d been waiting so long to trade in my V-card.
There was nobody else I wanted to take it but him. It sounds so dumb, I know, but I craved one person and one person only to be my first. I’d had such a crush on him since the first moment I saw him and, even as I settled down into my life miles away from here, he was never far from my mind and, looking at him now, I knew I wasn’t over my crush at all. In fact, it was now even worse than before.
Cheyenne looked at me and the expression of sympathy on her face was evident. I just brushed it off with a flip of my hand. “Don’t look at me like that,” I said. “It’s not that big of a deal. Really.”
As I spoke, the kitchen doors swung open and through them, walked Parker Liebeck. He hadn’t changed a bit since high school. I was pretty sure that he was still wearing the same striped polo shirt he had worn in tenth grade.
He was balancing two plates on his fingertips, a bit dramatic as it only had some burgers and fries on it, though. Now it was Cheyenne’s turn to blush and perk up as he set the plates in front of us and smiled. “Enjoy,” he said.
“Oh, I am,” she said softly, leaning over a little to look at his ass as he walked away.
I poked her in the ribs, relieved that he was enough of a distraction to get her talking about something else than my virginity.
“Hasn’t anything ever happened between the two of you?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t think he even knows I exist,” she said. “I don’t even know why I can’t just move on, either. I sometimes wish I could just meet someone else and get him out of my damn mind, but it’s not that easy.”
I only needed to glance over at Logan to know exactly what she meant. I picked up a fry and dipped it in some ketchup. Cheyenne lifted the seeded bun off her burger and started picking out the onions as she always did.
“How’s your dad doing?” she asked.
“He’s fine,” I said. “I don’t know, but I’m a little worried about the injury. It’s as though there’s something there that the doctors haven’t picked up on. They’ve told him he was really lucky and that he doesn’t have major damage, but he insists he’s in a lot of pain and can’t really move very well.”
“That’s weird,” Cheyenne said. “He told my mom it was serious when she went to visit, though.”
“Yeah, but apparently he was walking around okay at the hospital. So, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
The burger was surprisingly good and I finished in no time, but Cheyenne seemed more interested in drinking than eating. While I’d had enough to drink and switched to sparkling water instead of ordering another premix, she showed no sign of slowing down. I think the argument she had with her brother earlier in the day, and now the nerves of seeing Parker were making her want to get hammered. She wasn’t working the following day, so I guessed she could use a night out to just relax and let loose.
At one point, I thought about asking Logan to take her home but, as I turned to
go and talk to him, I saw Kristin grinding up against him, practically giving him a lap dance. It didn’t look as though he was too crazy about it, looking more confused than excited at what the poor woman was trying so desperately to do, but he wasn’t pushing her off, either.
I knew the only thing to do was to try and get Cheyenne to slow down and stop drinking. “Come on,” I said, as she threw back the last of the rum and ginger ale before sucking on a lime as she did so. “Let’s get you home.”
“No, it’s too early,” she slurred as I got her off the stool. She threw her one arm around my shoulder and leaned against me. “Let’s dance!”
“I think not. If you’re going to dance now, you’re going to hurl,” I said. I tried to reach for my purse to get some cash to pay for our drinks when, suddenly, someone lifted Cheyenne away from me.
It was Logan.
“What the hell’s wrong with her?” he demanded. “And, how can you let her get like this?”
“She’s just a little drunk, Logan,” I said. “Just hang on a second and I’ll get her to my car. I’m just looking for my wallet.”
But, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He peeled off some notes and left them on the counter, ignoring my protest. Then he left the bar, one arm wrapped around his sister’s waist and I had to run to keep up.
As I crossed the short distance to the door, I saw Kristin sway from side to side on her stool before falling off completely. If I hadn’t been in a hurry to get to Cheyenne, I’d have probably laughed.
CHAPTER TEN
LOGAN
†
OUTSIDE OF THE BAR, I propped Cheyenne up against the wall. She could barely stand, swaying from side to side.
“How much did you drink?” I asked her, but she just shrugged and continued grinning.
Caitlyn came up from behind and held out a bottle of water, but Cheyenne pushed it away. “Rum,” she mumbled. “Get me some more rum.” And, with that, her head flopped forward, her hair covering her face.
I looked at Caitlyn. “I can’t believe you’ve allowed her to get this bad,” I said. I knew deep down that it wasn’t really her fault and an unfair accusation, but I was just pissed at seeing my sister like this and at Caitlyn for being so damn obvious in trying to ignore me back in the bar. Who the hell did she think she was, anyway?
I lifted my sisters’ head up and pushed her hair back, but Cheyenne couldn’t keep her eyes open. Her head was lolling back and forth. There was nothing else for it; I leaned down, scooped her up and put her over my shoulder. Then I looked at Caitlyn. “We’re leaving.”
She followed us. “What, you’re just going to put her on the back of your bike?” she cried. “Don’t be an asshole, Logan. My car is right over there.”
I ignored her.
Looking at Mike’s truck, I had an idea. I knew he never locked the thing and when I tried the handle, the door opened. I reached up to pull the visor down and grabbed the spare key as it fell out. “I’ll take her home in this and bring it back later,” I said.
Mike had been hunting; the smell of deer clung to the inside of the cab. I hoped that Cheyenne wouldn’t wake up and hurl all over the front seat at the scent. I placed her gently into the cab, propping her up against the back of the seat and put her head to the side. I was conscious of the risk of her choking but she seemed fine, simply stone cold drunk. It was only once I was satisfied that she was secured, with the safety belt clicked into place, that I closed the door.
Caitlyn walked beside me as I rounded the truck to get to the driver’s side, trying to explain how Cheyenne had gotten so drunk. “She drank on an empty stomach,” she said. “By the time the burgers came she’d already had four drinks and then she didn’t eat much thereafter, either.”
“You shouldn’t have allowed her to get like that,” I fumed. “What sort of person stays completely sober while their best friend drinks herself into a stupor?”
She angrily put her hands on her hips. “You’re blaming me?” she cried. “What sort of brother lets his sister drink herself into a coma while he’s too busy trying to cop a feel of the town slut?”
Her eyes were fiery with anger. I have no idea why, but I wanted to laugh at her. She was so small and slim, but so feisty. Her lips were defiant, and she demanded an answer of me. I shook my head. “Go home,” I said. “You don’t have a clue what’s been going on there. So just get back on that high horse of yours and trot on homewards. Leave us common folks to our own business.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Caitlyn asked. “This is my home, too. It’s where my father lives. Where my best friend is. I belong here just as much as you do.”
“Oh, really?” I asked, taking a step towards her. She stepped back.
“You think this is your home? Well, nobody has seen you for the past two years. You don’t care about this place or the people that live here. Don’t think you’re gonna convince me that we’re anything more than some shit on your shoe. You really think putting on an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt somehow makes you one of us? Think again!”
“I do care,” Caitlyn said, and this time she stepped forward, defiantly. “I care enough to talk to my best friend about how much she’s hurting inside and how alone she feels sometimes because her big brother is too busy drowning his sorrows while fucking every woman who bats her eyelashes at him. So think again before you blame me for not caring and face the truth!”
She was shouting now, and I could feel my own anger rising up even more. “The truth? What the hell are you on about?”
“Willa!” she screamed at me, the word holding more weight and pain than any bullet she could have fired, any knife she could have plunged into my chest.
“Don’t you fucking dare mention her,” I growled. “This has nothing to do with her. You being so pissed has everything to do with me dancing with someone else and not you.”
She paused at this and even though I’d thrown it out there out of spite, I saw that perhaps I’d hit a nerve. I grinned.
“Yeah, that’s it, isn’t it? Kristin maybe getting a little piece of something you wanted. Is that the real reason why you kept throwing me those longing glances and then trying your best to ignore me?
“You’re talking shit and you know it,” she said, turning on her heel. She started towards her car, but I reached out and caught her by the shoulder, spinning her around. I stepped forward and pinned her against the truck with my body.
She felt good and her breasts were soft against my chest. My hands were on her waist, and she didn’t fight me. Instead, she stared up at me with those big brown eyes and I could see her bottom lip quivering slightly. I couldn’t tell whether it was because of anger or nerves, but she looked so goddamn sexy as she stood there, breathing rapidly, her chest rising and falling against me.
For a second, we were both quiet, glaring at each other, until her jaw clenched and her eyes became stern again, but she didn’t say anything.
“What? Cat got your tongue?” I teased. I reached up to touch her cheek, but she turned her head to the side. I grabbed her chin and turned her head back towards me, tilting her chin upwards, forcing her to look at me.
It was dark, but I could feel the fire burning in her eyes as she looked up at me. My gaze dropped to rest on her mouth. I couldn’t help but slowly move my thumb to trail along the curve of her bottom lip. Then I pressed down and her mouth opened slightly.
“Yeah, Logan. You got me,” she said, almost whispering. “I came down here to slum it with the locals, just as you said, and you, my friend, sure fit the bill.”
I ignored the clear insult but, what I couldn’t ignore, was the effect she was having on me; her body soft against mine and the sight of her mouth driving me insane. I became hard instantly.
I was distracted. The next thing I knew she grabbed my hand, pushed my thumb into her mouth and bit down hard.
“What the fuck!” I cursed, totally taken by surprise.
My grip les
sened and she shoved me backward with both hands pushing hard against my chest. It was all she needed to slip away quickly before she started to make her way towards her car.
“Just so you know; I wouldn’t touch a drunken man-whore like you even if you were lying in the street wheezing, fighting for your last breath!” she shouted over her shoulder as she marched across the lot.
I was about to follow her and kiss that fucking sass right out of her, but a loud moan came from the front seat of the truck.
Cheyenne.
Fuck.
I needed to get her home, so I climbed into the cab instead, slammed the door and roared out of the parking lot. My foot was a little bit too heavy on the gas, and I had to remind myself to slow down; I had precious cargo sitting next to me.
As I drove back to the house, I wondered if I’d been too hard on Caitlyn. Cheyenne getting drunk wasn’t her fault. I knew first-hand how much my sister could put away when she set her mind to it.
What was it Caitlyn had called me?
A man-whore.
I had to chuckle at that. I was surprised that she had that opinion of me, but she was getting the wrong information from someone. Yes, I’ve had women over once or twice; so shoot me. But, she clearly had no idea of the numerous times I rode home on my motorcycle to an empty apartment. She must have thought that I’d made my way through every woman in town if she assigned that little title to me. She was wrong, though.
Anyway, there was nobody in this town that had come close to the kind of woman I wanted to be waiting for me when I got home.
I’d seen a spark, a feistiness, in Caitlyn tonight that I liked and hadn’t seen before in any of the women I’ve met until now. I sucked my thumb where she had bitten me earlier and chuckled.
What a fucking nerve that little beauty had.
†
Cheyenne slid down from the front seat once I’d opened the door to the truck. I helped her into the house and up the stairs where she flopped onto her bed. I removed her shoes and pulled one of the loose covers over her.
FEELING IT_A Best Friend's Brother Romance Page 6