Everything I Shouldn't / Everything I Need (Nashville Nights #2-3)

by Stacey Mosteller

  After last night though, I don't know what to think. I've always been close to SB. Since she was little. Out of everyone in my life, she's the one person I always thought understood me. The fact that she wants to hide any kind of relationship we can have? That shit cuts deep and I don't know how to get past it. I feel like a fucking fool because I was ready to go all in with her, tell her brother how I feel and let everyone know she's mine. But then, she told me we couldn't tell anyone, that David can't know. That kind of shit fucks with your head. Especially when I've always been told how I'm not good enough - I wasn't good enough for my mom to stick around, I wasn't good enough for my aunt and uncle to give a shit about. Hell, I love my Nonna, but in a lot of ways, I feel like I wasn't good enough for her because she didn't do anything to defend me against my aunt and uncle.

  This whole situation is fucked up, and I don't have anyone I can ask for advice. David's my best friend, normally I would run something like this past him, but I can't exactly say "Hey Dave, I'm in love with your sister, but she doesn't want anyone to know about it." I'm sure that would go over well. Man, these are so not the best thoughts to have when you're already hung-over. It just makes me want to drink again and forget all this bullshit. I would drink if my head didn't already feel like there was someone inside it banging with a sledgehammer. Fuck.

  "Dammit, SB's awake. Please, for the love of God, don't talk about pussy or boob jobs or fucking one night stands. That's the last thing my little sister needs to think about." David glares at me from the other side of the bar and I grunt, not wanting to respond to that. There's no way I can respond to that except by dragging SB off by the hair to work out our differences like a fucking caveman.

  SarahBeth trudges into the room, still wearing the pair of tiny pink shorts that might possibly be panties and tight tank top she was wearing when I got home this morning. Fuck me. Is she trying to fucking torture me? All it takes is seeing her looking like she just rolled out of bed, well technically off the couch, wearing next to nothing and my dick is standing at attention and practically goddamn begging me to take her back to bed and mess her up just a little more. I have to suppress a groan and try to adjust myself without Dave noticing. Good to know that a hangover doesn't mean I don't want her.

  "Fucking hell SB! It's a good thing Jeremy's the only person here. If any of the other guys saw you dressed like that, I'd have to beat their asses." David shakes his head at her, oblivious to the fact that the person whose ass he should be kicking is mine. Hearing my name, SarahBeth goes rigid, stopping dead in her tracks and looking right at me, eyes wide and still full of sadness. It shouldn't affect me as much as it does, but no matter what happened last night or this morning, I still don't like seeing her upset. I really don't like her being unhappy if I'm the cause.

  She tugs her tank top, one that barely covers her stomach and doesn't reach the top of the little shorts she's wearing, like she thinks she can make it better. It doesn't. The only thing tugging it down does is make it ride lower over her chest, which does absolutely nothing for my erection. Well, it does nothing constructive. When she sees me staring at her chest, her face turns bright red, making David look over at me too.

  "Well, fuck. Am I going to have to kick your ass too?" He glares at me; not at all happy with the way I'm looking at his sister. When I don't answer right away, he points directly at me, saying, "Seriously fucker, don't look at my sister like that, don't think about her, just...fucking don't. You got me?"

  I didn't think it was possible for SB's face to get any brighter, but it does. "David!" she hisses, getting ready to scold him, but I cut her off with a jerk of my head.

  "No, it's cool. He's right, I don't have any business looking at you." Then, I turn to David. "Sorry man, won't happen again." Getting up from the bar, I walk past both of them, leaving the room before I tell him just how much I've looked at and touched his baby sister. Clueing him in to any of that won't end well for any of us, so I should just take my ass out of the room.

  As I leave, I hear David's muttered, "Damn fucking right," followed by SB's whispered admonishment to her brother. I can't help the grin that lifts one side of my mouth as I leave them fighting in the kitchen. It's petty, but I kind of feel like she deserves to have to deal with her pissed off brother this morning. Hell, better she deal with pissed off David than pissed off Jeremy because every time I get pissed off around her we wind up locked together and full of regret. It's a vicious, never-ending cycle of misery for me.

  SarahBeth

  Oh. My. God. I can't believe David caught Jeremy staring at my chest! So much for that whole "we are nothing" speech he gave me last night. If we were nothing, he wouldn't be interested in my boobs...right? Ugh, I hate this - the fighting, the distance, every single part of it. Jeremy and I have been close forever, and now it's like he doesn't want to be in the same room with me. I need to cover for the hurt I feel that he walked out after barely saying a word to me. I still can't believe he went home with her! I hope he wore a condom...that chick probably has some very nasty stuff growing down there.

  As soon as I hear Jeremy's door shut, I turn to my brother and glare. Not just any glare either, it's the full on narrowed eyes, frowning mouth, hands on my hips, you better listen to what I say death stare. "I can't believe you just said that! Ohmigod David!" I'm trying not to scream at him, instead doing that weird whisper shout where you're trying to be quiet even though you want to scream until glass shatters.

  "What?" my big brother says, acting like he's all innocent. David gives me a wide-eyed look, like he really is shocked that I'm upset with him. "What did I do, baby sister? Am I supposed to just let my friends' stare at your tits?" I grimace at his word choice. "Tits" is my least favorite word. I hate it more than I hate cunt and I really don't like that word. Oh gross...am I really thinking about that while I'm talking to my brother? Ewww!

  There's really nothing I can say to that because (other than Jeremy) I don't want his friends staring at any part of my body either. Just the fact that he reacted like that to Jeremy looking at me though proves that I was right last night. If we were to do anything, we couldn't tell David. My brother would never understand and I don't want to be responsible for them fighting.

  "No, you shouldn't let your friends stare at my boobs...boobs David, not tits. You know I hate that word! But, you don't have to be a butt about it either." David looks contrite, and after grabbing something to eat, I head off to find Jeremy, wanting to attempt to explain what I was trying to say last night. I've got to make things better with him, especially after what was said this morning.

  I stand outside his door for at least five minutes trying to work up the courage to actually knock on the door when it flies open and Jeremy's standing in the doorway, still wearing his sweats, but with running shoes and a baseball cap. He stares down at me, his eyes unreadable and his expression blank. I hate not knowing how he's going to react to me, if he's going to blow me off or take me seriously.

  "Um, hey?" Instead of being a greeting, it comes out as a question. Now that he's standing here in front of me, I'm nervous. I should have thought about what I wanted to say before I got to his door, but I didn't.

  Jeremy raises one eyebrow. "Hi," he mutters. He doesn't say anything else, just stands there starting at me. I try to collect my thoughts, but he's impatient. "Did you need something?"

  "Can I talk to you for a minute?" He starts to shake his head no so I reach out and put a hand on his arm. "Please Jer? I hate that you're upset with me. I really need to explain about last night."

  Jeremy looks back towards the kitchen, like he's checking for my brother, before motioning for me to enter his room. Once we're inside, he gestures for me to sit on his bed, but I'm too nervous. I start to pace instead, trying to figure out how to say what I need to say to him. Finally, I take a deep breath, "Okay, I know you think the whole reason I didn't want David to know anything about us is because I'm ashamed of you or something." That's the most ridiculous thing I can think o
f, because why would anyone be ashamed of Jeremy? He doesn't agree or disagree, just continues to stand there staring at me. My palms are sweating and I'm hoping I don't screw this up. "That wasn't the reason. You saw how he acted just now in the kitchen, and that was just because you were looking at me. Can you imagine what would happen if we told him we were dating? David would go off the deep end. I just...I don't want to be the reason you stop being friends." Jeremy's expression softens slightly, so I hasten to add, "If we were together, Jer, I'd want everyone to know. I just don't want to tell him because it would mess up everything. Please, forgive me? I swear, I wasn't trying to hurt you."

  "SarahBeth," Jeremy begins, stopping to look away from me. My heart drops, he's still calling me by my name so I know he's still mad. I've always hated being called SB or Little Bit, but now that he's not calling me either, I don't want to be called anything but those nicknames.

  "Please Jeremy, I can't take you being pissed at me." My lip is quivering, and it's taking everything I have not to let the tears gathering in my eyes fall. I know that crying will make him forgive me, but I want him to mean it. I don't want him to forgive me because he doesn't want to see me cry.

  He sighs, "I get why you said what you did, but fuck, SarahBeth, that shit hurt. I don't want to be someone's secret, and if we were together? It would be with your brother's blessing. I'm not risking my best friend over a woman. Not even if it's you. If you can't live with telling your brother about us, then there's nothing here." I start to speak, but he cuts me off. "I get it, I do. But, you should have let me decide whether I wanted to risk your brother's friendship by telling him instead of telling me we need to hide our relationship, if there was going to be one. I'm not the guy that's going to let any woman dictate everything, and right now, I can't trust you or your reasons for why you don't want to tell him. We can still be friends, but that's all. At least for now."

  I'm speechless. This is not the way I saw this conversation going. I don't know how to get through to him that I want him. I just don't want the fight that will come along with my brother knowing about us. He doesn't give me the chance to say anything else. Instead, he opens the door and with his back to me, he says, "Please be gone when I get back. I just...I can't do this with you. I'm sorry." He shuts the door behind him, leaving me to my misery and trying to figure out where I went wrong.

  SarahBeth

  The next few months crawl by. My relationship with Jeremy is strained, we don't speak much, not unless we absolutely have to and he spends the majority of his time away from home. Spring semester had been over for two weeks; Livvie and Emmett are at the beach, and the only person I've actually seen is Wyatt because he chose to stay here and attend summer semester. We've developed a pretty awesome friendship, which makes being around our friends, who are all part of a couple much easier. We clicked right from the beginning, but it's never been anything romantic, no matter how much Liv tries to force us into that box.

  We're currently lying on my bed watching The Walking Dead on Netflix and why I let him talk me into this is beyond me. I hate, hate, hate horror movies or anything with lots of blood and gore. So, basically that means Wyatt's watching the show while I have my eyes squeezed shut and his hand over my eyes while trying to cover my ears with my own hands. It's a very awkward position and he thinks it's hilarious.

  Wyatt plays with my hair while he watches the show and I wish that I could feel something...anything... for him other than friendship. It's a thought I've had more than once since New Years Eve, but unfortunately, you can't choose who you're attracted to.

  "Alright SB, you can look." I can hear the laughter in his voice, muffled as it is by my hands and I'm sure he's full of shit but I open my eyes when he removes his hand. As soon as I see the TV, a zombie takes a huge bite out of someone and I screech like someone's trying to kill me. Wyatt starts to laugh and I yell at him, pummeling his chest with my fists.

  He grabs my wrists, pushing me down onto my back before holding both of them in one hand and tickling me with the other. I'm squirming, laughing and begging for mercy when my door flies open and Jeremy is standing just inside my room. He's glaring at Wyatt, who immediately lets go of me.

  "What the fuck is going on?" Jeremy looks like he's ready to attack Wyatt and I jump up, putting myself between them.

  Wyatt responds before I can think of anything to say. "Nothing man, we were just watching TV." His explanation doesn't calm Jeremy down a bit.

  "Just watching TV huh? If you were just watching TV, why was she begging you to stop?" Jeremy is vibrating with rage, but he hasn't even acknowledged me. He's kept his eyes on Wyatt this whole time.

  "Jeremy!" I know I need to get his attention before he goes after my friend. "We weren't doing anything and Wyatt wasn't hurting me. We were watching a scary show and he was laughing at me for being grossed out. That's all. I promise!" Jeremy finally looks over at me, breaking his stare down with Wyatt.

  His whole body relaxes when he sees I'm not upset, but his eyes harden when Wyatt drops an arm around my shoulders and pulls me in to him. "You're sure?" he asks me, ignoring Wyatt now.

  "Yes," I stress the word, hoping he'll let this go. I didn't even realize anyone was home but me. It's just after lunch, and I thought for sure he wouldn't be home until much later. Not that I mind flaunting Wyatt in front of him, I just didn't want there to be a fight. I wanted him to be jealous, not pissed off.

  Jeremy studies me closely, trying to see if I'm telling the truth or protecting Wyatt who looks decidedly uncomfortable right now. Finally, Jeremy backs down, the look in his eyes not one I'm used to, and I can't quite figure out what the emotion is. "Alright," he says. "I'll leave you to it then." Turning, he walks out, shutting the door quietly behind him. I'm not sure what just happened, but I feel like I need to talk to him. When I look over at Wyatt, he sighs before nodding for me to go. I love that he knows what I'm thinking before I even have to ask.

  Opening the door, I see Jeremy going down the steps that lead to the kitchen, the ones closest to his bedroom downstairs and I rush after him. I make so much noise running down the stairs that there's no way he can't hear me, but he doesn't turn around, if anything he moves faster.

  "Jeremy!" I call, trying not to yell in case my brother is home somewhere and I don't want him to be part of this conversation. Jeremy still doesn't turn around and I barely make it to his door before he starts to shut it. I dart inside, leaning back against the door to push it closed and he's staring at me wide-eyed. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing," he says slowly, looking everywhere but at me.

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I cross my arms over my chest and since I'm still breathing heavier from running after him, it pushes my chest out further than normal. Jeremy's eyes land there for just a second before he raises them back to mine. "I call bs. Something's wrong." He smiles a little at me saying bs instead of bullshit, but my brother scolds me every time I curse so I'm trying not to, at least around them. I hate being scolded like I'm a kid.

  "Seriously Sarah, I'm fine." Jeremy lets out a long-suffering sigh and I know for sure something is wrong. He doesn't call me Little Bit anymore, hasn't since New Year's, but he always calls me SB. I don't think he's used my actual name...ever. Okay, that's an exaggeration but I mean really!

  I begin tapping my foot in annoyance. "Jeremy Michael Meloni, out with it. What's going on? You know I'm not leaving until you fess up so you might as well tell me now. I can be very annoying if need be." One corner of his mouth tips up at my words and I want to grin up at him, happy that we're bantering back and forth, even just a little bit. Our relationship has been so strained for the past six months that even this bit of teasing and taunting soothes places I didn't even know needed to be soothed.

  "Tell me about it," he mutters, running a hand back through his hair and giving me a sardonic look. I don't say anything else, continuing to tap my foot in irritation. Irritation that I'm rally not even feeling anymore. "Fine," he huffs. "If I tell you will yo
u stop bugging the shit out of me?" I nod, so fast I'm surprised I don't get whiplash. He gestures for me to sit on the end of his bed before turning the chair at his computer desk around and sitting so that he's facing me. I pull my legs up so they're curled beneath me and begin picking at his bedspread while I wait for him to talk.

  Jeremy

  This isn't the kind of shit I like to talk about, even if SarahBeth and David know the majority of what went on with my mom and my aunt and uncle. SarahBeth actually probably knows more than Dave does because she's been spending time with my Nonna, but it's still not fun to talk about. And, it bugs me that she can detect so easily that something's bothering me. She's always been able to read me better than anyone else.

  Rubbing the back of my neck, I try to figure out where to start. "I saw my mom this morning."

  Her mouth drops open at my words. She starts opening and closing her mouth like she's trying to figure out what to say, but she comes up with nothing. I know the feeling. Finally, she says, "You saw your mom?" I nod, and she shakes her head like she's trying to clear it. "But, why? I mean, what happened?" She's trying to play it down, but I know she's shocked. Believe me, I know exactly how she feels. That's how I felt this morning when my aunt called.

  "Constance," I stop, trying to gather my thoughts. I refuse to refer to her as Aunt Constance because while she technically raised me, she didn't do it because she wanted to and she let me know at every opportunity that raising her sister's bastard was not what she wanted to do with her life. She's an angry, bitter woman. "Constance called me at work this morning and said I was needed at "home". At first I thought something had happened to you or Dave, but she quickly told me her home. When I got there, mom was there causing all sorts of problems."

  SarahBeth looks stricken, maybe even a little shell-shocked at what I'm telling her. "What did she want?" she breathers, her voice almost inaudible as she continues to play with my comforter, not really paying attention to what she's doing with her hands.