Goode To Be Bad

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Goode To Be Bad Page 9

by Jasinda Wilder


  Lucas and I were content to sip coffee in silence for a while, and it was honestly a refreshing moment—the only other person I knew who was as comfortable in companionable silence as me was Crow. Lucas seemed to be the same way, and I appreciated it.

  “How’d you calm her down?”

  I laughed. “Not sure I did. I think you did more than me.”

  He chuckled. “She was spittin’ nails when she left, came back only chewin’ on ’em.”

  I shifted, unsure how to answer. “We…talked.”

  His chuckle was…entirely male. “Ah. The talk.” Meaning, he understood exactly what I meant.

  I ducked my head, grinning. “Sometimes it’s the only thing that works. She’s got a hell of a temper. I mean, I’ve known some folks with explosive tempers like she’s got, but mostly it flares hot and dies quick. Lexie? Don’t always die off so fast.” Being around Lucas’s Oklahoma drawl made the Texas in me come out strong, the twang in my voice deepening.

  “How long have you two been seein’ each other, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  I sighed. Found myself opening a little. “Honestly, I ain’t even sure what to call what we are. She won’t talk about what we are.”

  He nodded. “Well, I’m just an old reformed drunk, but I can tell you one thing—that there female has a hell of a lot of pain in her, and she’s got it bottled up way deep down. Sooner or later, it’s all gonna pop, my friend. You care about her, so you just make sure you’re there to catch the pieces when it does.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. If she’ll let me.”

  “Be there? Or catch the pieces?”

  I swallowed hard. “Both, honestly.”

  “Just do what you can do. And sometimes, a woman’ll push, hoping you’re stubborn enough and strong enough to not push back, but to let her push without letting her push you off.”

  “You don’t know Lexie. Shit, I don’t think I really know her. I think she keeps a lot of her real self bottled up with the rest of whatever it is she’s hiding in there. I ain’t sayin’ she’s fake, but…”

  “She’s puttin’ on a show to protect what she don’t think the world can handle or accept.”

  “Right.” I shrugged. “She don’t let anyone get close. When she decides to push, she pushes fuckin’ hard. And I mean, I ain’t made of stone, you know? I care about that girl, a lot. But if she won’t let me, how long’m I s’posed to keep hangin’ around her gettin’ pushed off?” I laughed self-consciously. “Man, five minutes around you and I’m twangin’ like I’m a twelve-year-old Texas hick again.”

  “What, your label tell you to sound less like a good ol’ boy?”

  “Well, no. My best friend Crow and I own our own label—my band mates are minor shareholders, too. It was my manager, Mick. He wanted me to sound southern, but not too southern. And, honestly, the more time I spend away from Texas and around people who aren’t from the South, the more the accent fades anyway. It doesn’t ever go all the way away, but when I’m around someone like you who’s got a thick accent, mine comes out.”

  “Crow’s a good fella. I like him. Treats Charlie like a real queen.”

  I nodded. “Crow…is one of a kind. A truly rare human. And for as good as he treats Charlie, she brings the best out in him. Gives him some soft edges, and for as long as I’ve known him, he’s been not much but sharp and hard through and through. Didn’t even know he had a soft side, most of the time. Charlie’s amazing. Be good to see her again.”

  “Best advice I can give you—and I know you didn’t ask—is to just be there. And if she tries to push you away, don’t let her. Keep on not letting her, and eventually she either will let you get close, or she’ll opt herself out of your life, and either way you’ll have your answer. But if you care about her like you say you do? You’ll find what you need to put up with whatever she dishes out for as long as it takes, as long as you keep seein’ something in her that’s worth putting up with.” He checked his phone, digging it out of his back pocket. “Well, Liv’s gotta hit that meeting, and then we’re meeting my boys and their girls for drinks. I know you and Lexie are welcome to come, if you want.”

  I nodded, shrugged. “I dunno. I’ll have to see what Lex wants. I appreciate the invite. We wouldn’t want to horn in on you and Liv having time with your family, though.”

  He waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, it’s nothin’ like that. Just an informal hangout at the Kitty. Probably will end up being more than just my slice of the clan, because this crew is thick as thieves.”

  “Heard there’s a lot of ’em.”

  “Oh, man,” Lucas laughed. “There’s a whole damn passel of ’em. I got eight nephews and three sons, and each one has a girl, so that’s twenty-two. Then there’s Liv’s girls, Cassie with Ink, and now Charlie with Crow, making it twenty-six. You guys is twenty-eight. Whenever the other two of her daughters end up here with men, it’ll be thirty-two, just adults. Not to mention the growing pile of kids, and shit if I can keep track of them. I know the twins are talking about getting pregnant at the same time, and seein’ as that’s two sets of twins matched up, with history of twins on both sides, chances are they’ll both end up with twins themselves, making four babies at the same time, and Corin and Tate already have one pair of twins.” He laughed ruefully. “Man, now my head hurts.”

  “The twins? That’s…?”

  “Canaan and Corin, my nephews, are identical twins, and they’re shacked up permanent-like with a pair of twins, Aerie and Tate, and that’s respective—Canaan is with Aerie, and they’re touring musicians under the name Canary, and Corin is with Tate, and they’re here in town running the label Canary operates on, and some other shit I’m not sure about, and I know Crow is with them a lot, bein’ into music himself.” He laughed again. “Son, it’s confusing as hell. You’re just gonna have to jump in and figure it all out yourself. The web of connections and who’s who and who’s where and who’s doing what is so all-fired complicated it’s a damn sight above my pay grade.”

  I nodded. “Well, if I’m around to jump in, I’ll probably be asking you for clarification.”

  “You’re better off asking Liv. That woman knows every birthday, every anniversary of the couples who actually bothered to get hitched legal, she knows the whole thing. Taken on the role of matriarch like she was born to it. Some of the kids are calling her Mama Liv. And by kids, I mean the grown ones. None of the youngsters are old enough to talk yet, or not well.”

  He led the way back to the kitchen, where Lexie was leaning into Liv’s shoulder, her mother’s arms around her, and she was crying. Shoulders shaking, sniffling and snuffling, the whole works.

  Liv saw us coming through and shook her head with a meaningful look, and Lucas and I pivoted in unison and went back where we’d been.

  “Looks like they’re makin’ progress,” Lucas said. “Liv’s gonna be late, but her client ain’t a stickler for punctuality himself.”

  “What does Liv do?” I asked.

  “She’s a real estate agent and interior designer.” He flicked a hand at the town of Ketchikan at large. “Me, her, Zane, Bast, and Dru have an LLC, actually. I wouldn’t quite call it flipping, because we don’t do major renovations, but we take homes and condos that are outdated and just need a bit of TLC and spit-and-polish, and we update ’em, put ’em back on the market for a nice little profit. The boys and I do the work, Liv does the design, and she and Dru do the selling. Liv and Dru actually own their own agency, now.”

  “So that’s what you do? Renovations?”

  He snorted. “Hell, no. I just help out because I’m handy enough to not nail my own thumbs to the wall. Bast and Zane are the really skilled ones. Naw, me and my boy Ramsey are in business together—we’re what we call adventure guides. Anything from local day-hikes to deep bush month-long hunts, backpacking trips, canoeing. If it takes you out in the woods and you need a guide who knows the area and woodcraft, we do it.”

  “Wow, that’s pretty cool.”

>   “Well, I grew up off-grid, some miles north’a here, and spent the first twenty years of my life living in and off of the forest. And Ram—well, all three of the boys were smokejumpers for a number of years. When they retired from that, Ram found himself happiest out in the woods, and turned it into a career.”

  “Maybe someday I can get you guys to show me some sights, out in the wild. I’ve done shows in Anchorage and Juneau, but I’ve never had a chance to do much exploring.”

  He nodded. “Sure thing, son. Say the word and I’ll clear my schedule.”

  At that moment, Lexie wandered out, eyes red but otherwise back to normal. She smiled at Lucas. “Mom wanted me to tell you it’s time to go. And to make sure Myles and I know to meet you guys at the Badd Kitty whenever we’re ready.”

  Lucas nodded. “Sounds good. We’ll see you kids later.”

  “Good talking to you, Lucas.” I shook his hand. “And thanks.”

  He nodded, shook my hand back, and clapped me on the shoulder on the way past.

  I waited until he was gone, and then eyed Lexie—she stood beside me at the railing.

  Silent.

  “So.” I bumped her with my shoulder. “You and your mom talked?”

  She nodded, letting out a short breath. “Yeah. I told her what happened with me and Marcus—the affair, the abortion, getting kicked out of school, losing my scholarship.”

  “And? How’d she take it?”

  She sniffed, a sound sort of like a laugh but not quite. “I don’t know why I was so scared to talk to her. She told me she was disappointed with my decision to have an affair with a married man, which I expected, and it’s something I’m going to feel guilty about for probably the rest of my life. I mean, granted, there were rumors his wife was cheating on him with someone, but that’s no excuse on my end. I always swore I’d never be the other woman, and I became the other woman. He resigned, you know. They moved to North Carolina. He’s at Duke, now. He had tenure at Sarah Lawrence, and I cost him that.” She sighed. “The abortion was harder for her. Mainly because she’s angry and sad that I didn’t tell her, didn’t call her. She understood why I did it, but she…I dunno. It’s hard for her, as a mother of five, to consider—” She couldn’t finish. “I just couldn’t even think of any other options. There weren’t any, in my mind.”

  “It was your choice, Lex. Yours and yours alone.”

  “I know.” She tried to smile at me, but didn’t quite succeed—I’d never seen her this vulnerable, this quiet, this soft, this open. I felt like I was walking on eggshells, carefully considering every syllable, every movement, for fear of her shutting down again. “I appreciate you saying that, though. Mom…I think she would have convinced me to carry the…the baby…” this was in a whisper, barely audible, “to term, and adopt it out.” A wretched sob. “It. Fucking it?”

  I had no clue what to do or say. I just leaned closer so my shoulder was against hers, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. Just there. Quiet and letting her speak.

  “I couldn’t have.” She was breathing carefully, slowly, measured. “I couldn’t have done that. I know I’m, like, this emotionless ice queen, but…deep down, I’m not. Not really.”

  “You’re not an ice queen, Lex. You just keep certain things inside.”

  “Certain things. Nice dodge, Myles.” She sighed bitterly. “I’m an ice-cold bitch, with an extremely limited range of expressible emotions. I’ll party it up and have fun with the best of them, tell jokes and be silly, but that’s about it.” A glance at me. “Don’t have to tell you about my emotional unavailability, do I?”

  Truth? Or caution?

  “No, honestly, you don’t. I’m…well aware.”

  “I wish I knew how to be different, Myles. I really do.”

  “I mean, you could try? A little bit a time, you know? Like, it’s baby steps to the elevator, Bob. No one expects you to turn into this emotional mush parade overnight, or at all. But just…open up a little.” I nudged her temple with my forehead. “Like you are now.”

  “Thank you for…for recognizing it.” A pause. “I’m afraid this is probably a freak one-off event, Myles. Mom can get me open, to some degree, but I’m gonna close up any second now, so you better grab your pearl while you’ve got the chance.”

  “I guess if there’s any pearl I’m interested in grabbing, it’d be an explanation for what happened in that janitor closet, at the end there. Something happened with you, Lex. I know it did. I felt it.”

  She swallowed hard. Twined her fingers together in tight shifting knots, picked at her cuticles, making fists. “I…shit. Of course it’d be that.”

  “There was something, wasn’t there?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Tell me? Please.”

  She rubbed her face with both hands. “It’s complicated. And I don’t think you’re going to like hearing some of the explanation. But I gave you the opening and you took it, so I’ll answer.” A long pause. “I don’t know how to start.”

  “Just the truth, whatever it is, and don’t worry about how you think I’ll react, or what I’ll think.”

  “Brutal truth?”

  I nodded, held her gaze. “Always, Lex. Always.”

  “Fine. So you’ve probably figured out by now that I don’t ever let anyone raw dog me. That’s been a rule of mine for forever. Hard and fast rule, never broken it, ever.”

  I frowned. “Never?”

  “I still to this day have no clue how I ended up pregnant. A one in a billion chance, I guess. I’ve got an IUD, and I’m still well within the effectivity range, since I’m on the nonhormonal kind which last for like twelve years or something crazy. And I used a condom, and I mean literally every time.” She glanced at me. “That moment you were bare inside me, that was, and this is the literal honest truth, the only time I have ever voluntarily allowed a man inside me without a condom.”

  “I wouldn’t say you allowed it.”

  She tore her gaze away. “Well, it still happened. And that’s the salient point, here. You were bare inside me. That’s what started it.” A silence. “Because I…I liked it. A lot.” She was whispering. “I wanted to keep going like that. I’ve never, ever wanted that with anyone, ever. Not Marcus, not anyone.”

  “Marcus is the closest you’ve come to having feelings for someone, I take it?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, that’s true enough.”

  “True enough?”

  “True enough for the purposes of this conversation.”

  “Meaning, that’s a dead-end line of questioning, where I’m concerned.”

  She sighed, took my hat off, set it on my head, and scrubbed her hands in her hair. “I need a shower, dammit.” A huff. “Fuck, fine. So, there was Jimmy Nawrocki. I had a major crush on him, my sophomore year at U-Conn. Huge crush. Mainly sexual infatuation, and that only got worse when we…well, we spent a week in a hotel together between semesters.”

  I laughed. “A whole week? Damn.”

  She smirked. “It was a good week.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “What’s your record?”

  “Record for what?”

  She bumped me with her hip. “Longest sex marathon. Not a single session, but most number of back-to-back sessions with the same person without leaving.”

  I hummed. “Without leaving? That’s tricky. I’d say Helen, because basically we hooked up every moment we were together, stopping only to eat, sleep, and go to the bathroom, and that was a week. But she had to go to work, so that eliminates her based on your criteria.” I shrugged. “Probably it’d be Britt. She performed before me, I went immediately after her, and we hung out, partied, and had fun with other acts most of the night. Ended up at her hotel, and stayed up for…god, nearly three days I guess, essentially just having sex or waiting for me to get hard again. Passed out for twelve hours, woke up, got room service, did another almost three days straight, drinking and fucking. It only ended because we both had gigs.”

  “So, I�
�ve got you beat on total time, but you’ve got me beat on longest amount of time without sleeping between.” She laughed. “‘All right, we’ll call it a draw.’” She said this in a bad English accent.

  I smirked at her. “You quoting Monty Python at me now?”

  “Nick, that friend with benefits I told you about. That was his favorite movie. We watched it at least once every time we hooked up. I can quote the whole thing.”

  “So.”

  She snapped her fingers. “Didn’t work? Damn.”

  “Not gonna distract me that easily.”

  She sidled closer; turned to face me at an angle, pressing her breasts against me. “How about this?”

  “Why don’t you have sex without a condom, Lex?”

  She frowned, but didn’t pull away. “Obvious reasons—infections and pregnancy.”

  “And?”

  A shrug. “It’s too…personal. Too intimate.”

  I nodded. “I get that.” Slid my arm around her waist. “How’s this tie into what happened in the closet?”

  She bit her lower lip, heaving a deep breath—and what that did to her cleavage did threaten to distract me. “You were bare, and it felt good. Too good.”

  “And?”

  Another sigh. Damnable swelling cleavage stole my gaze from the deep lush brown of her eyes. “And then, when you were coming, I had this…I don’t know. Vision, maybe. It felt like a memory, but it wasn’t real, it obviously hasn’t happened, but it felt like it. I don’t know. It was fucking weird, is what it was.”

  “What did you see?”

  “Us,” she whispered.

  “Us, how?”

  “On the floor of what I assume was a bedroom. There was a carpet and a full-length mirror. I was on my hands and knees, and you were taking me from behind. We were so beautiful together, Myles. So perfect.” Her eyes closed, her voice took on a dreamy quality, as she related what was still obviously a very powerful memory. “I felt you inside me. You were bare. I could feel all of you. Every inch. Every vein. I could feel your balls tapping against me as you slid in, so fucking deep. It was…glorious. Better than anything. What made it so goddamned powerful was…was the sense of…of belonging. To you. You inside me, bare like that.” Her voice shook, broke, steadied. “Then, as you came, in real life, like, in that actual moment, I felt you come in the—the dream, memory, whatever. I felt it, the flood of you. Being filled by you. And it was just…it was too fucking much. It was so beautiful and so right it fucking hurt.”

 

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