“Stop calling him that,” she insists. “You’re doing it on purpose to get under his skin—I just don’t understand why when this is the first time you’ve actually met him.”
Neither do I. “Why would I do that?” Now I’m acting like an asshole to her, and I can’t even explain it.
She throws her hands in the air and starts to walk away. “Great, there’s the Pax I know. I can’t say I’m glad to see you again.”
“Whoa, whoa, what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Her words rub me the wrong way. I position myself a few feet behind her.
Whipping around, she steps toward me, pointing her finger at my chest. “It means I was beginning to think you may have grown up at least a little. I decided to let go of how you acted that night at my birthday party then again at Christmas, but you just can’t seem to let me be. It’s like you’re incapable of actually respecting me.” She is breathing hard, full of frustration and disappointment, and a bit of sadness clouds her eyes.
“Give me a break!” I shout. I can’t even explain why because I can see I’m hurting her and making things worse, which is what I want to do least in the world.
It’s like I lit a short-fused bomb—she explodes. “Aaaaahhhhhh, you’re such an asshole!” Her finger is now poking me in the chest, only annoying me more. The worst part is I don’t even think any of what I’m feeling is directed at Cass. Out of control is all that comes to mind.
Grabbing her wrist to stop her, I yell back at her, “Cass! Stop it! I’m sorry.”
“What is it? What? For some reason, I felt sorry for you having to see me kissing Richard, and I don’t know why. Why should it matter?” Cass’s voice starts to lose its fire and she relaxes her hand in mine.
Reaching a hand up, I place it on the side of her cheek, caressing it lightly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I act like such an asshole sometimes.” It’s an apology, but it’s a bit halfhearted.
“It felt like we came to a new understanding this week. Things have been good,” she remarks.
Dropping my hand, I glance away before I reply, “I guess it bothered me a little, but he’s your boyfriend and—”
“But he isn’t,” she states, talking over me.
My head swivels back in her direction. She’s looking right at me, and now I’m confused. She can see it, and she sounds like she regrets saying those words.
“Richard and I are complicated. We’re not exactly together, and we’re not exactly apart,” she confesses. “We have a history, and right now we’re in an on period of our on-again, off-again relationship.” Cass explaining this to me is worse than Laney’s account of their relationship. It’s quiet in the room around us and she takes my hand again. My chest burns. “Why would it bother you, Pax?”
I don’t say anything, just allow my gaze to roam over her, hoping for the right words, hoping for some sort of justification for why seeing Cass with Richard felt wrong. Cass waits, her eyes begging me to find the right words too.
“You know what, let’s just forget it. I was just a little taken off guard. It didn’t bother me, I misspoke.” Her eyes lose some of the light shining in them. “Let’s not fight, Cass, okay?”
She peers at me beneath her lashes, her gaze never leaving my face.
“Yeah, sure…okay,” she replies, her voice sounding unsure.
“I was just going to make dinner, want some?” I ask her, hoping we can just pretend this conversation never happened.
Shaking her head slowly, Cass takes a step back. “Thanks, but no. I think I’m going to just go to bed.” Turning, she walks toward her room. “Good night, Pax.”
“Uh, yeah, good night, Cass,” I reply, a bit stunned and unsure of exactly where we stand now. It’s always two steps forward, one step back with us.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care, because damn if I don’t feel like shit right now.
Past
Cass: Age 18
Paxton: Age 20
When I step through the door of my apartment, I stagger over to the sofa, exhausted and slightly intoxicated. I snuck out of Bobby’s party thirty minutes before the clock struck midnight. I whooped and hollered then say my goodbyes. It’s an every year thing on New Year’s because I don’t do the kiss.
It’s one of my rules to live by—never kiss at midnight because it never leads to anything good, and more often than not, it ends with expectations. I don’t do expectations either.
Reaching for the remote, I push the power button and begin flipping through the channels. Before I know it, I’ve watched nearly the entire two hours of When Harry Met Sally. Laney loves this movie, and my friends would never let me live this down.
I glance over at the clock; it’s getting close to midnight back home. I’m going to call her.
Searching around for my phone, I finally find it on the floor next to where I’m lying on the couch. I quickly tap my favorites and find Laney’s number then hit the call button. It rings and rings and just when I’m about to hang up, a singsong voice flutters drunkenly into my ear.
“Laney’s phone, Happy New Year!”
She sounds happy and bubbly. It’s been a while since I’ve heard her voice, and she still sounds the same, which I guess is a dumb thing to think. I try to picture what she looked like when I left two years ago for school. With that nearly white-blonde hair hanging well past her shoulders in waves and an athletic, five-foot-nine-inch frame with tawny skin, she’s hard to forget.
“Cass, is that you?” I ask, although, I know the answer to the question.
A giggle. “Who is this? Wait, don’t tell me, let me guess. Say my name again.”
I can’t help smiling. “Cass.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line. “Oh, fuck.” That word coming out of her mouth makes me laugh. “Paxton?” There’s a certain reluctance in the way she says my name.
“The one and only,” I tease. “Happy almost New Year, Cass.”
A long pause. “Happy almost New Year, Pax.” Her voice isn’t quite as bubbly as it was when she answered the phone. “Let me find Laney, hold on.”
I don’t know why, but I stop her. For some reason, I want to talk to her more. I was missing home and thought I wanted to talk to Laney, but strangely, speaking to Cass instead feels exactly like what I need. I’ve missed her too…such a strange revelation, one I’m not going to explore.
“Wait, Cass,” I say, my voice unusually desperate. “Tell me what’s going on. What have you been up to?” Again, another long pause. More silence. “Cass? Are you still there?”
“Uh, yeah…yeah, I’m here.” She pauses once more. “Not much, just school. Normal life of a college student, you know how it is.” Her voice sounds a little less hesitant.
“That’s great. What about Laney?” I still feel a little in a liquor fog.
“Let me get her and you can ask her yourself.” Cass sounds a bit relieved at the prospect of getting off the phone with me.
“No, you know how Laney is, she won’t tell me how she really is. You tell me.” I feel a bit desperate to keep her on the phone.
“Uh, okay, well, Laney is Laney. You know her, always barely escaping trouble, testing the waters, but she always ends up on top.” She laughs, letting her guard down a little more.
Laughing with her, I say, “Yeah, that sounds about right. You two were always walking a fine line.”
“And you were always butting your nose into our business. It has been different without you here.” Her words sound a bit sad.
“Yeah, it’s definitely not the same now that I’m not chasing after you two. I’ve been in a lot fewer arguments over the last couple of years.”
We continue to talk, taking turns catching the other up on our experiences at school. Cass tells me about our families’ Christmas celebration. Then she tells me more stories I don’t get from my phone calls with my parents or Laney. It makes me miss all of them even more, but my life is meant for more than staying where I was as who I was. I n
eeded to leave home to find out if my dreams were attainable.
“This is nice,” I tell her after a while.
“What’s nice?” she asks, the sounds of chaos starting to grow louder somewhere near her.
Suddenly, I hear another voice yelling close to the phone. “Babe, it’s almost midnight!” There’s a rustling commotion through the phone.
“Cass?” I shout her name into the phone.
“Pax, I…” Her voice becomes muffled.
Three…two…one! I hear shouts of celebration through the phone.
“Cassandra, I want my kiss! Hang up the phone!” a male voice carries through the phone and I hear a giggle. Bubbly Cass is back—I’d recognize that laugh anywhere.
She’s gone, and I hear the distinct sounds of two lips meeting.
“Happy New Year, Cass,” I whisper into the phone, knowing she most likely can’t hear me. I hang up and begin channel surfing again.
Present
Several questions are swirling through my mind at this hour of the night.
For example, when I try to stand, is this little paper toilet seat cover going to stick to my ass? Are my feet numb from the champagne or the magenta stilettoes I’m wearing? The most important question of the night is: why am I sitting in the bathroom stall of a bar, staring at the sticky, alcohol-laden floor? Not to mention the number one question I will never admit out loud: why can’t I get the picture of the brunette that’s been hanging on Paxton all night plunging to her death from a cliff out of my head?
Oh hell. I need to stop. There’s only one person who can distract me from my dumb emotions—Laney.
Taking my phone from my clutch, I tap Laney’s name under my favorites. When it begins to ring, I stand up, wobbling a little while shimmying my panties up my legs and pulling the bottom of my gold mini dress back down from around my waist. A giggle slips past my lips when I think of the hot mess I am tonight.
As Laney’s voicemail echoes in my ear, I fall against the wall of the bathroom stall. “Dammit, Laney! I really wish you would’ve answered,” I holler into the phone unnecessarily. I hear the sounds of feminine chatter drifting from two stalls down, likely girls making one last dash to the ladies’ room before the countdown. I lower my voice, “Happy New Year. God, I wish you were here.” I sigh. “You’d tell me like it is…you’d stop me from doing something stupid…but you’re not here, and when I do that stupid thing, I’m going to blame you. Just a friendly warning.” Pausing, I stare at the writing on the side of the stall and notice the use of the words love and forever written in twirly letters full of hope. I’m sure the voicemail is going to cut off any moment, so I say my goodbye. “Anyway, I love you, Laney, like whoa, and don’t you forget it.”
Ending the call, I glance at the time before opening my clutch and dropping my phone in. I have five minutes until midnight. Pushing the door open, I wobble my way out, slowly making my way to the sink. I wash my hands, drying them before I freshen up with a touch of hot pink lip gloss and a fluff of my hair. One final look, and I approve.
As I leave, three giggling girls walk into the bathroom. I recognize one of them as the girl who has repeatedly taken a nosedive off a cliff in my mind throughout the night—Paxton’s conquest of the evening. She briefly makes eye contact with me and smiles. I hate her.
Realizing I should probably hurry and find Richard, I make my way down the dimly lit hallway, the noise from the crowded bar growing louder. I can hear the excitement spreading around the room. God, I hope Richard stayed where he said he’d be, and I hope Paxton has disappeared.
When I step around the corner, I look around the open room to see if I can spot Richard while thinking about another familiar face.
As the thought crosses my mind, I’m abruptly tugged into a dark corner before I can even register what’s happening. The large hand wrapped around my wrist is slightly calloused. I recognize his smell and a tiny squeak slips out as I’m suddenly face to face with the one person I was trying to avoid.
“Dammit, Paxton! What the hell are you doing?” I shout, annoyance clear in my voice.
“Don’t be mad, Cass. We’ve barely spoken tonight and I—” he starts, but I interrupt him before he can finish. Paxton finishing that statement isn’t a good idea; I can feel it even in my bubbly champagne haze. He’s intoxicated too, and we’ve played this game too many times. There’s never a winner.
In the commotion around us, the countdown to midnight begins.
Ten…
My eyes widen when his grip tightens on my wrist.
Nine…
“Cass…” My name is barely audible when it leaves his mouth like he’s taking his last breath.
Eight…
“Pax…” His name leaves me in the same desperate manner.
Seven…
Whatever this is passing between us, it’s not right. This isn’t us. We aren’t an us.
Six…
Tugging me forward, our eyes still locked, his other hand slips around my waist and rests on my lower back.
Five…
The world around us continues to move, but I feel stuck in time, the girl who was once in love with a boy.
Four…
My focus drops to his mouth. His lips still draw me in with their pouty softness, almost too gentle for a guy, but sexy as hell.
Three…
Paxton.
Two…
All of a sudden, the mouth I’ve been admiring is hovering over mine, waiting, wanting approval. The tiny distance between us is electrifying. It doesn’t matter. Stop…no…
One…
My name slips through his lips on a sigh, and it’s like an alarm sounding off in my brain. The New Year rings and Paxton leans in to seal the start of the year at the same time I take a step back, pulling away in the process.
He reaches for me. My lips tingle, feeling like I’ve been kissed. Paxton’s eyes are wide with disappointment, his mouth open slightly like he’s about to say something.
I shake my head, silent amidst the chaos all around me.
I turn on my heel and push my way through the crowd without looking back, wiping away any memory of the look on Paxton’s face the moment I walk away from him.
Looking forward, my gaze finally lands on Richard. He’s laughing and whistling along with everyone around him. He’s handsome, a different kind of familiar. Without another thought of what almost transpired seconds ago, I throw my arms around his neck, smashing my lips against his, taking him by surprise with a kiss that isn’t his. It only takes a moment for him to reciprocate. When he pulls away and looks down into my eyes, a grin spreads across his face. “Happy New Year!” He yells above the crowd then pulls me into a tight hug.
Feeling overwhelmed by emotions, I try to keep him from seeing them written on my face. I don’t need to see my expression to know I don’t have the look of a girl who just kissed the man she loves on New Year’s. My insides feel crushed, and I’m positive the ache I feel in my heart is written across my features. I’ll hide in his embrace for another moment. No one has to see. I don’t want anyone to see, especially Richard. Clenching my eyes shut, I allow myself to feel so I can let it go.
When Richard squeezes me tighter, I open my eyes again and rest my chin on his shoulder.
The light is bright and my vision is slightly blurred except for one person standing in the middle of the crowd, hands hanging at his side. The look on his face tells me he saw the kiss—his kiss—but how he really feels about it is indecipherable.
Present
This is not happening.
An emotion has crept in that I’ve never really given much thought to in all of my twenty-eight years. I may not have ever actually felt it, but I recognize it. I’ve seen it thousands of times in the eyes of my friends, girls I’ve been with, coworkers, even strangers, but never have I experienced it burning in me so brightly.
The red-hot ache hit me in the center of my chest the moment her lips touched his.
A midnight kiss that was supposed to be mine. A kiss I never thought meant so much. It’s not like I’ve never pressed my mouth against Cass’s or felt any kind of response to being near her. Only the strongest of men could not have a reaction to her strong, lean body, her drive, her talent. Something is different now. From the moment I saw her after first arriving home, I’ve wondered why I stayed away for nearly ten years. Thoughts of why I never claimed Cassandra as mine began haunting me. Now, only a couple weeks later, I’m watching her kiss him…again…except this time I’m starting to see things a bit differently.
I want Cassandra. I crave her more than I thought possible. She complicates what I’ve always thought I wanted for my life.
The kiss ends and he looks at her in a way that makes me want to punch a puppy. He pulls her against his body, turning a little in the process. I can see Cassandra’s face now, peeking over his shoulder.
There’s something not quite right about her expression. Why, Cass? Why’d you walk away from me just a few moments ago? Her eyes are closed, and I need her to open them. Just open your eyes, Cassandra. It’s like she hears my plea because she’s now looking directly at me.
There’s pain clouding her usually bright cerulean eyes.
I want to hold her, take away the pain. Suddenly, it strikes me, the realization that I’m the one who’s causing her pain. She’s taken. Cass is not mine. The thought is like a punch in the gut.
Defeat—it’s a strange feeling.
I’m responsible for stepping away from the possibility of Cass and me. She and I still live together temporarily.
We have nineteen years of friendship, and I have an obligation to that. I won’t let us down. We’re friends, and friends don’t kiss the way I wanted to kiss Cassandra only moments ago. I decide I’ll back off.
Taking a step back, I give her a slight nod then turn and walk through the crowd, away from her.
When I find Matt standing near the bar with the same group of girls from earlier, I become the Paxton Luke I’ve always been—the guy who doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, the guy who doesn’t feel jealousy, the guy who definitely doesn’t lose himself over anyone, especially his little sister’s best friend.
Love Wasted Page 9