Making a Play

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Making a Play Page 7

by Victoria Denault


  “What?”

  “You tell us,” Cole replies calmly.

  I jump down the three steps and land on the hardwood of the den with a big thud. “I’m having a bad day,” I say and take a big gulp of beer.

  Jordan and Cole both laugh.

  “Fuck you, assholes.”

  They laugh harder.

  I contemplate just going home, but my empty house would just add to my foul mood.

  “What happened?” Jordan wants to know when he’s finally done laughing. “Did you realize you’re not cute, not smart and bad in bed?”

  Cole and Jordan start laughing again. “Seriously?” I bark. “You two are infants.”

  “Now, now,” I hear a familiar voice behind me say, and I turn to see Devin coming out of the bathroom down the hall. “I’m back in town five seconds and you’re already fighting like we’re kids again?”

  I smile. “Finally! Where the fuck have you been?”

  He comes down the stairs behind me and hugs me. “Ashleigh and I had shit to deal with in Brooklyn.”

  “But you’re here for good now? All summer? So I don’t have to deal with these two shitheads on my own anymore?” I ask. I smile gratefully when he nods.

  I love Devin and at the sight of him I realize how much I missed him and didn’t know it. I don’t have an overall favorite Garrison brother—they’re each my favorite for different reasons. But Devin’s my favorite because he’s always got solid, rational advice, and right now that’s what I need.

  “What’s got your French blood boiling, Luc? I mean, besides these two morons?” He flops down on the couch next to Jordan and grabs a beer off the coffee table that I had assumed was one of Jordan’s empties.

  “Rose.”

  Cole chuckles. Jordan smiles. Devin covers his smirk with his beer bottle and says casually, “What did Rosie do?”

  Cole stops chuckling. “Or what did you do?”

  “I don’t know what I did. One minute she’s helping me with the event, setting up the website, and then she just got up and left and she hasn’t returned a text or email all day,” I tell him as I sit on the edge of the ottoman next to Cole’s feet.

  “Classic.” Cole smiles as he types away at something on his laptop.

  “What was the last thing you remember saying to her?” Devin prompts.

  I shrug. “We were talking about her trip to Europe. I offered to lend her money because she’s a friend and I wanted to help her out.”

  Jordan hip-checks Devin in the video game, sending him flying into the boards. It makes me smile. It’s still a little surreal that we’re in a sports video game. “And you have no idea why she’d be pissed at that? Come on, Luc. You’re not a moron.”

  “It’s the friend thing, right? She still has a crush but…” I reply and suddenly feel defensive when Jordan scoffs at that.

  Devin stares at me. “But… what? You don’t find her attractive?”

  I swallow a big mouthful of beer, for courage, and admit, “She’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Cole’s eyes move off the computer screen, Jordan’s leave the TV, Devin’s land on me too. Then each of them smiles. I realize how similar it makes them look. Moments like this there is no denying they’re brothers; that’s always made me feel a little lonely, because as much as the whole Garrison family treats me like family, I’m not. I don’t have their fair looks, their long, lean six-foot-two-inch frames or the lopsided smirks they all have plastered on their faces right now.

  “What the fuck is with the grins, assholes?”

  “Who won?” Cole wants to know, glancing from Devin to Jordan. “I had last Christmas so I know I lost.”

  “Fuck, I underestimated him,” Jordan says, shaking his head. “I said he wouldn’t realize it until your wedding.”

  “I said the bachelor party so I’m closest without going over!” Devin announces happily. “Pay up!”

  Jordan and Cole both dig out their wallets and toss twenty-dollar bills to their grinning older brother. I glare at each of them. “What the fuck?”

  “We had a bet,” Jordan explains, smiling like a big dumb asshole. “We all knew you’d realize you’re attracted to her, but we just didn’t know when.”

  I shake my head and run a hand through my hair in frustration. “But we’re such good friends and if I think about her that way it’ll fuck it up.”

  “But it’s not a normal friendship,” Cole announces. I turn and stare at him like he’s a fucking alien.

  “What’s not normal?”

  “Guys and girls who are as close as you and Rose aren’t very common,” Cole says. I can tell by the even tone and the slow way he says his words that he’s trying very hard to be tactful.

  “Because it’s impossible to be that close to a chick and not bang her,” Jordan elaborates, as untactful as Cole was tactful. He drops the video game controller and picks up his beer.

  “You and Jessie were friends for a little bit without screwing,” I remind him and sink back in the worn leather couch. “When you were kids and when you came home for Christmas.”

  “Just because I didn’t have the balls to try and sleep with her before I was eighteen doesn’t mean I didn’t want to do it,” he informs me with a smile. “And our attempt at rekindling our friendship last Christmas ended with sex.”

  “Right. Jessie had that huge hickey the next morning.” Devin nods, chuckling, and Jordan grins proudly.

  I shake my head at the memory but I’m smiling. Jordan was in love with Jessie in high school, but he didn’t tell her until the end of our senior year when Jessie’s boyfriend cheated on her. She gave him her virginity that night. The problem was, Jordan was seeing another girl, but the bigger problem was neither of them were ready to deal with the intense emotions of being in love. They’d screwed it all up, and within weeks Jessie had run off to college in Arizona, refusing to ever see him again, and Jordan went off to play hockey in Quebec and sleep with anything that moved. If Lily Caplan hadn’t died last fall, forcing Jessie and her sisters to come back to Silver Bay, I don’t know if they’d have ever worked it out. But that cranky old lady’s death gave Jordan one more shot to try to win Jessie back. Luckily it worked.

  “Well, I’ve never slept with Rose,” I remind them all.

  “Yeah, and that’s what’s weird,” Cole pipes in, his wide-set eyes narrowing. “You two are way too close for never having seen each other naked.”

  I say nothing as my traitorous mind fills with visions of Rose naked.

  “You know how Rosie is. She wants some sweet, romantic asshole and I’m not that guy.”

  “If that’s really what she wants, then why has she had a crush on you for so long?” Devin explains to me, scratching his dirty blond head thoughtfully. “She knows you as well as we do. She knows exactly what kind of asshole you are and she’s still interested.”

  “Even if I wanted to… even if I thought it wouldn’t fuck up our friendship, I can’t,” I explain to Devin.

  “Right. Devin doesn’t know that numb nuts here is having a self-imposed sexless summer,” Cole pipes in, scratching the reddish stubble on his unshaven face.

  “If only my nuts were numb,” I mutter, thinking about the ache Rose causes in them every time I see her lately.

  “Why?” Devin asks as he levels me with an astonished stare.

  “He thinks it’ll impress the Vipers management,” Jordan chimes in, chuckling as if to prove he thinks it’s a hysterical idea.

  Devin looks intrigued. “I bet he doesn’t last the whole summer.”

  “I bet he doesn’t last another week,” Cole replies.

  “I bet he—”

  “Stop with the fucking bets!” I bark and they all burst out laughing, filling the large room with their belly laughs. “Can we just go out already?”

  I suddenly want to be somewhere that makes talking impossible.

  “We can now,” Cole says and hits a button on the laptop that causes the printer be
hind him to buzz to life. “We’ve got five rooms at the Harrah’s Resort and Spa. Just printing our reservations.”

  “Okay, where to, then?” Jordan wants to know.

  “Mr. Goodbar,” I suggest because it’s loud and will be busy on a Friday night, and mostly because it’s not the place Rose works. I need a night without blue balls. They all nod in agreement and we finish our beers and start for the door.

  Chapter 11

  Rose

  I’m on the far end of tipsy, flirting with full-on drunk. I know this. I also know that I’m not a great drunk. I either cry or throw up—sometimes both. And I fall down—a lot. So I shouldn’t drink this next shot that my best friend from high school, Kate, just ordered. Of course when she hands it to me, I clink the tiny glass with hers and down it. Last one, I promise myself.

  “Don’t look now but there are two cute guys looking at us from across the dance floor,” Kate says with a grin as she flips her short brown bob.

  “How cute?”

  “Seven out of ten.”

  “That’ll do.” I smile and slowly turn around. I called Kate and asked if she wanted to go out because I needed something to distract me from the sting of Luc’s rejection last night. I know I’m never going to be the girl who goes home with a random stranger, but right now a little attention from one sounds like just what I need. Luc may not find me attractive but hopefully someone else does.

  My eyes land on two guys by a high-top table kitty-corner to us. One is tall, a little lanky with short, neat, light brown hair. The other is shorter, thicker with shaggier, darker hair. The darker-haired one catches my eye and his mouth lifts in a small, slightly crooked smile that’s kind of cute. I smile back.

  “Having fun, Rosie?”

  I know the voice whispering in my ear. At the same time that it ignites exasperation in my brain, it sparks desire in my soul. I spin and my dark eyes lock with his chocolate ones.

  “Hey, Luc,” Kate says happily.

  “Hey, Kate.” Luc gives her one of his typical smoldering smiles. His tanned olive skin looks perfect against the white linen dress shirt he’s wearing. It’s rumpled, like he pulled it out of the laundry hamper, and he’s got the sleeves haphazardly rolled up and three buttons at the top, and two at the bottom undone. He’s paired it with his faded vintage 501s and a pair of black low-top Converse. His long hair is kind of flipped to the side, askew, like he just carelessly ran a hand through it. The whole look could be classified as a male version of a hot mess, but somehow on Luc, it’s startlingly sexy. And that fact makes me angrier.

  I turn to Kate, ignoring him completely. “I’m going to get us another round.”

  I storm away but he is the bane of my existence right now, so of course he follows. I stop and spin around to face him again. “What do you want, Luc? You’re cock-blocking me.”

  He breaks into a huge grin and laughs. He looks beautiful. I fucking hate him.

  “Cock-blocking?” Luc repeats, still laughing. “You don’t have a cock to block, Rose.”

  “I came here to have fun,” I counter hotly. “I can’t do that with you around.”

  His smile slips and he looks almost hurt by that. “I thought we always had fun together.”

  “We do, Luc, but that’s not the kind of fun I’m looking for tonight,” I reply and my eyes start scanning the bar. “The kind of fun I want I can’t have with you… or with you around.”

  “Exactly what kind of fun do you want, Rose?”

  “The kind that involves a guy hitting on me and no guy in here is even going to try if you’re hovering around me.”

  “Rose!”

  “Seriously, Luc, go away.”

  I step past him and start walking back to where I left Kate. If he follows me this time I will kick him in the nuts, I swear. Before I can reach Kate again, a hand wraps around my wrist. I turn, ready to do exactly what I promised myself seconds earlier, but it’s not Luc. It’s Dave Cooper.

  “Coop!” I just about cheer. I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him as tight as I can. He’s shocked but hugs me back, his thick arms wrapping around my waist.

  “Had a little to drink, Rosie?”

  “Please don’t say you’re going to lecture me.” I notice Luc is standing exactly where I left him, staring at me. I loosen my arms around Cooper’s neck but I don’t let go. “And if you say you’re worried about me or you want to take care of me, I will slug you. I mean it.”

  He laughs. “I’m not worried about you. You’re a big girl. You can handle yourself.”

  “I can.”

  We stare at each other for a very long moment. My arms are still twisted around his neck and he’s still got one hand resting on the small of my back. Before I can figure out what to say next, Luc is standing beside us, like a giant cloud eclipsing the sun. He turns to Cooper.

  “Hey, buddy!” he says in a way too chipper voice with an insincere smile I’ve only ever seen him give to a particularly aggressive opponent on the ice. It’s cold and completely unfriendly, and it has an I’m-going-to-fuck-you-up vibe to it.

  Cooper seems completely unfazed by it, which surprises me. Coop extends his hand. “Dave Cooper. I’m the contractor renovating Jordan Garrison’s place. Don’t think we’ve officially met.”

  “Luc Richard.” He turns his eyes—which are a rich coffee color today, lighter than normal—on me and he shakes Coop’s hand. When he lets go, he grabs my wrist. “Devin is here. Come say hi.”

  And then he’s dragging me away.

  Chapter 12

  Luc

  T’es fou, mon petit chou. It’s an expression my mother used to use when I was little and I would be acting silly or getting upset for no reason. If she were here right now, she’d be whispering it in my ear. And it would be valid because I have no idea why I feel the need to keep Rose away from Jordan’s carpenter, but I need to do it like I need to breathe air. Luckily, she doesn’t protest. When we finally see Devin, leaning against a pillar talking to Cole and Jordan, she shakes free of my grip and marches past me to Devin. I join them and casually block her way back to that Cooper guy.

  “How ya doing, littlest Caplan?” Devin asks jovially, and lifts her off the ground in a hug.

  “I’m great!” She smiles. “Having a great night. How’s Conner? How’s Ashleigh?”

  “Conner is great! He’s so talkative now and he never walks anymore, only runs. Everywhere.” Devin smiles broadly as he discusses his son. “I hear we’re officially becoming relatives.”

  “Yeah.” Rose reaches over and punches Jordan’s arm playfully. They talk for a few more minutes about hockey, what Callie is up to in L.A., and Cole’s wedding, then Rose hugs him again.

  “Got to go! Left some friends over by the dance floor.” She turns and I’m blocking her way, just as I planned. I reach out and grab her hand again.

  “First let’s get a drink!” I say and pull her toward the bar before she can argue. I ignore the raised eyebrow from Devin. When I reach the bar I order two Coronas and turn to face her. She’s standing behind me with her arms crossed.

  “I don’t want a drink, Luc. I want to go.”

  “You really want to hang out with the contractor guy?” I blurt out, shocking both her and myself.

  “I think he likes me,” she responds quietly, her eyes on the bar behind me.

  That revelation drops like a bomb in the pit of my stomach. Of course he likes her. He’s seen her almost every day for a couple of months so he knows she’s fucking amazing.

  “And what? You like him?” My voice is dark and rough because I’m suddenly parched.

  She doesn’t say anything at first, and the longer it takes her to answer, the harder it is for me to breathe. I realize I’m in serious fucking trouble here. Something is shifting between us—right here in the middle of this overcrowded bar—and I can’t stop it. It feels like I’m tied to railroad tracks as the light of an oncoming train draws closer and closer.

  “I like the idea that som
eone likes me.”

  “I like you.” I shouldn’t have said it.

  Her deep, dark eyes land on me and study my face. She’s doing that thing only she can do to me where it feels like she’s stepped inside my head and she’s exploring all my secrets. I panic. “Who needs that guy when you’ve got me to pal around with?”

  Her whole body tightens in anger at that but my mouth isn’t done doing damage, apparently. “Rose, he’s a little bit… old for you, don’t you think?”

  She makes a face—a shocked, angry face that says “how dare you” and “fuck you” at the very same time. “He’s twenty-eight. Big deal.”

  “You’re barely twenty-one.” Did I really just say that? Why the hell did I just say that? It’s ridiculous. What is wrong with me?

  Her dark eyes are burning with anger. “First of all, I’ll be twenty-two in less than a week. Second of all, go fuck yourself.”

  She spins on her wedge sandals and starts to bolt. I leave the Coronas on the bar and chase after her. When I touch her shoulder, she jerks away like my touch burned her. Her expression is dark and angry, to say the least.

  “I don’t want you to be my father or even my brother,” she confesses to me in an uneven voice. “I fucking hate it, Luc.”

  “I’m sorry. I know I’m not your father or brother. I just want to be a good friend,” I mumble because the words sound lame, even to me, especially as I look at her beautiful face and feel that now all too familiar urge to reach out and touch her in a way that is not at all about friendship.

  “I’m going to go spend time with someone who wants to be more than my friend,” she replies firmly, even though she kind of looks like she wants to cry.

  “I don’t like the idea of you with him.” It feels like the whole world freezes as soon as the words escape my mouth. Nothing between us will ever be the same again. I know it and I hate it.

 

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