Whiskey Burned (Flawed Heroes Book 2)

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Whiskey Burned (Flawed Heroes Book 2) Page 8

by Jessalyn Jameson


  “How long?”

  “What?”

  “How long have you been in love with Jake, Tamryn?”

  Tamryn squared her shoulders. “I have tables—”

  Gennie cringed. “All those nights—”

  “Were none of my business.” Tamryn grabbed her tray and Randy’s pack of cigarettes, then raced through the swinging kitchen doors, knocking a dusty plate off the counter as she did so. The shattering sound of ceramic hitting the linoleum floor did nothing to pause her escape—she couldn’t breathe.

  Pushing through the back door of the building, she stopped to inhale a deep lungful of air, trying to catch her breath as her heart tightened in her chest. Tears burned her eyes.

  “Fuck, you feel so good,” Jake whispered.

  Tamryn’s heart stopped. She sucked in a breath, then quickly threw her hand over her mouth to mask the sound.

  Right out there in the open, Jake had that woman pressed up against the bar, her skirt around her waist and his hands…

  Tamryn ducked into the dark shadows behind the building and hurried to the house she shared with Jake, praying he hadn’t heard or seen her lurking in the shadows, some creep watching him fuck a stranger.

  Chapter

  Twelve

  Jake smiled at the familiar cacophony of pots banging in his kitchen. TB must be baking. He hadn’t had a Baker muffin in weeks; she hadn’t cooked for him since the whole Reed thing. Then, that night he’d kissed her, she’d been about to bake when all hell broke loose. The spilled flour had been cleaned up by the time he got back, making the whole thing feel even more surreal; a kiss that hadn’t happened.

  He hoped the ruckus in the kitchen meant they were finally moving forward.

  His stomach growled as he imagined her hustling around the kitchen to make his favorite muffins. His mind took it a step too far, conjuring an image of TB in that lace bra, covered in flour, reaching up to the top shelf—

  Damn. Jake groaned. Fucking that customer hadn’t dampened his dirty thoughts about TB at all. In fact, his latest discretion had only fueled his desire for her. Something was missing with that woman. But not just sexually. He had a connection with TB. He’d spent years with her.

  He missed their easy banter. Missed the glint in her eyes when he annoyed her or tugged her ponytail. He missed her. This silent treatment thing was bullshit.

  He should tell her that.

  Jake sauntered through the living room, ready to chastise TB for ignoring him, and debating how best to bring up their kiss, then paused as his brain caught up to his eyes and he finally recognized the chaotic state of his home. Flour covered every inch of the small dining room that conjoined the living area and kitchen. He ducked, narrowly escaping a cookie cutter that ricocheted off the wall and flew just past his head.

  What the…?

  Eyes wide and heart racing, Jake sprinted through the small dining room, turning the corner into the kitchen and skidding to a stop when he discovered TB hurling baking supplies around. A tiny human tornado.

  Confused, he surveyed the area, a half-smile on his lips. “Hey now, what the hell happened in here?”

  TB paused, then whipped a cookbook at his head.

  He dodged, narrowly avoiding a collision, then ran a hand through his hair. “What the hell was that?”

  “Well, bless your heart, Jake Johnson, that was a cookbook.” She picked up a large sack of sugar and dumped it on its head, granules rushing out over the linoleum in a white wave.

  Watching the fine sugar spread across his floor like liquid, blending with the flour, Jake couldn’t decide if he was pissed or amused. At least she was talking to him. He looked back up, meeting TB’s fiery gaze.

  Her eyes narrowed further. “Something about this funny to you? Because I’m only getting started.” TB picked up an oversized mason jar full of cupcake wrappers and lifted it over her head. “I’d run, if I were you, Jake Johnson.”

  “Whoa…” Jake raced across the kitchen, grabbing her arm at the wrist and taking the mason jar from her hand before she could toss it and shatter the glass. “What are you so fired up about?” Jake stared hard into her eyes, searching for the reason behind the sudden madness. In all their years together, he’d never seen TB so livid. “What happened?”

  “What happened?” She pulled free of his grasp, then reached for a rolling pin. “You happened!” TB screamed. She waved the rolling pin toward him. “You, Jake! You and that…that thing you can’t seem to keep in your pants!”

  She pointed the pin below his waist, circling it at his crotch.

  He took a step back. “What?” When she continued to point the rolling pin toward his dick, he reflexively brought his hands to his crotch.

  She glowered. “Fuck, you feel so good,” she growled, her voice strangely deep, like she was mimicking a man—

  Jake’s brow furrowed.

  “Did you even get her name?” she spat.

  He frowned. Her name? The blonde’s? He narrowed his eyes, studying TB, and tilted his head. “You’ve never cared who I hooked up with before, why the sudden change?”

  That kiss. The answer whispered through his mind, but he pushed it aside. That had been a mistake. She had to know that. Logically, she had to know. He was Colby’s best friend, someone entrusted to look after TB. They’d crossed a line, and they both understood the mistake made in doing so.

  Right?

  TB laughed mirthlessly, throwing her head back, then pinned him with angry blue eyes. “Is the mighty Jake Johnson speechless? How fucking perfect.” She shook her head rapidly, teeth clenched, her lips in a straight line. Jake watched, held her gaze, waited for an explanation, but she just shook her head over and over again, fighting some private battle he wasn’t privy to.

  He grabbed her shoulders and peered into her eyes. “Stop doing that! Stop shaking. Talk to me. Is this about that kiss?”

  She froze, her breath catching audibly in her throat; a vein pulsed in her eyelid.

  “I told you I was sorry, TB. What more can I say?”

  “Ugh!” She pushed herself free of his grasp. “You’re completely oblivious!”

  He heart in his throat, Jake tried desperately to follow her thought process. “I don’t understand.”

  She untied her apron and threw it on the floor, then fled from the kitchen.

  “Fuck!” he growled, tearing down the hall after her. This was nuts! “TB!”

  Tamryn pushed her door closed, but he was stronger and managed to slide it open without much exertion. He stood in front of it and looked down at her. She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Get out, Jake.”

  “No. Not until you tell me what the hell is wrong with you right now. Are you…on your period, or something?”

  Her mouth fell open. “Get out.”

  Oh shit. He’d really gone and done it this time. Jake squared his shoulders and crossed his arms. “No.”

  “This is my room.”

  “This is my house.” A low blow, but he wasn’t in the mood for the high road.

  TB’s eyes widened, then she promptly composed herself. All emotion drained from her face, the angry flush replaced with an icy pale.

  Jake’s stomach sank.

  “You’re right. This isn’t mine.” She waved her hand around the small room. “None of this is mine.”

  “No,” he argued, “that’s not what I meant.” Jake struggled against the confusion in his mind, sorting through all the words he wanted to say to her. “How can you say that? This is your home.”

  “No, it’s not, Jake. I sleep here, and I bake in that kitchen, but I don’t even sit on that couch for fear of all the women you’ve fucked on it.”

  He slammed his mouth shut, her words a punch to the gut. “I don’t, I’ve never—”

  TB closed her eyes and raised her hand. “Stop. It’s not my business. That’s the whole point.” She met his gaze once more, her eyes glossy, and Jake’s lungs fought for air that no longer existed in this room. “This
isn’t my home. You’re not my family. I don’t belong here.”

  She turned, but Jake panicked, reaching out for her and spinning her around. “All of this is yours. This house, this room, the kitchen”—he paused before the last word fell from his lips: me—“I’ll go. I’ll sleep at the bar. You stay here. If I. . .if you’re so disgusted by me, I’ll go. You can have the house.”

  “Jake, that’s ridiculous.”

  “It’s what Colby would have wanted.”

  “Colby isn’t here.” TB closed her eyes, as a tear dripped down her cheek. Jake watched its descent, but couldn’t move. She inhaled a ragged breath, opened her eyes, then turned around and pulled a suitcase out from under her bed. She popped it open, and—

  Jake sucked in a gasp. “You’re already packed?”

  She looked back at him and smiled sweetly. “Sure, Jake. I mean, I didn’t want this either, and think of all the fun you can have without your dead best friend’s little sister bringing you down all the time.”

  The words battered Jake like physical blows, his heart crawling up his throat to escape the painful ache growing in his chest. “Is that what you think? That you bring me down?”

  She turned around, narrowing her gaze. “Look, Jake, whatever promises you made to Colby, I’m letting you off the hook. I’m twenty-two years old now. I can take care of myself, okay? You’re free.”

  Free? The word made his chest constrict tighter. Jake was desperate for some crack in the façade, some hint that she didn’t really want to leave him, but she remained stoic, reserved, giving him nothing but an icy stare.

  She really did want to leave. What could he do?

  He pulled in a deep breath, then gave a quick nod. “Fine. Okay. Whatever you want. I would never make you stay here if you were that unhappy.”

  “I am. I am that unhappy, Jake. Let’s face it…you were Colby’s friend, not mine.”

  The finality of that statement stole the air from his lungs. Jake dug his fingernails into his palms to keep from crumbling as her words tore through his brain. He’d cherished her all this time, grown so comforted by her presence, so accustomed to it, while all along, she’d wanted to get away from him. He’d tricked himself into believing they needed each other when that dependency had been one-sided. He’d imagined little moments between them, conjured stolen glances that didn’t exist.

  He’d fallen in love with a girl who didn’t even want to know him.

  Shit. He’d fallen in love with TB and he didn’t even know when exactly that had happened.

  In his stupor, he watched her shove pictures and books into a quickly-overflowing suitcase, helpless to stop her, his mind only able to focus on the searing rush of agony consuming his every cell.

  She’d been miserable all this time. He’d held her captive.

  She hated him, and he loved her. What have I done?

  This wasn’t what Colby wanted, not in a million years.

  God, he’d failed both of them.

  “Goodbye, Jake.”

  He blinked, bringing her back into focus. He searched those familiar blue eyes one last time, but nothing had changed. She was really leaving.

  “Goodbye, Tamryn.”

  Her eyes widened slightly, then she nodded and passed him, and though his heart begged to follow her, to chase her, to stop her, his feet wouldn’t budge. He’d gone numb, save for his cheeks, where the warm, unfamiliar sensation of tears was all too surreal.

  “Oh, and Jake?” She looked back, and his heart soared. He blinked the wetness away, but she didn’t meet his eyes, only looked him up and down, her lip curled in disgust. “You might want to stop fucking the woman your best friend is in love with.”

  Tears streamed down Tamryn’s cheeks, but she held steadfast to her exit. How fitting that Jake had finally ditched her childish nickname as she walked out of his life, as if leaving was the act that finally grew her up in his eyes.

  She ran into The Bar, her tears now accompanied by sobs. “Reed!” She scanned the empty saloon, but he was nowhere to be found. Panic bloomed in her chest beside the ragged-edged, gaping hole where her heart once lived. The old Mills’ place was too far to walk, and Tamryn didn’t have a car, so if Reed had left for the night, she’d be screwed. “Reed!”

  She’d just left Jake. This was real. Her heart fought against its cage, frantic to flee and run back to him. Her suitcase hit the floor with a loud thud that mimicked the roar of realization as it slammed into her soul. Agony ripped her heart in two. She cried out, slamming her hands to her chest.

  Reed appeared from the kitchen, eyes wide. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He ran to her, stopping a foot away.

  She looked up at him, her hands out, palms up, a silent question begging to be answered. Why? How? What had she done? She sobbed, then clasped her hands to her face.

  “Oh, Tamryn.” Reed wrapped her in his arms as she collapsed from the weight of her pain, lowering them both to the ground. “What happened?” He pulled her away enough to look down at her, swiping tears from her cheeks. “Tamryn?”

  She curled into his chest. “I think I just moved out,” she sobbed.

  “Oh shit. How’d he take it?”

  Tamryn cried harder. How’d he take it? Like a champ. “He didn’t even follow me.”

  Reed held her until the tears subsided, maybe minutes or hours later.

  Jake never came. In the back of her mind she’d been waiting for him, giving him this one last chance to catch up to her—physically and emotionally. There was no point wasting another minute of her life waiting for Jake.

  She sniffed, then pushed back and wiped her face with her sleeves. She stood, and Reed rose with her. She gave a curt nod. “I’m okay.”

  He sighed, then gathered her suitcase. “I’m thinking you need a place to crash?”

  “No. But I do need a ride.”

  “Care to tell me where we’re going?”

  Tamryn smiled sheepishly; there was no way in hell Reed would think this was a good plan. “The old Mills’ place?”

  Reed shook his head, eyebrows raised. “Do you think that’s the best idea?”

  “Save the lecture, Reed. Are you going to take me or not?”

  Reed sighed. “Damn, Tamryn. I hope he doesn’t kick my ass for this.”

  She wiped her eyes. “Oh, please. He’s probably already calling a bunch of girls to come over right now and christen his empty house with a quick romp in the flour.”

  “Somehow I doubt that.” He cocked his head. “Wait. The flour?”

  “I might have made a little mess on my way out.”

  “Should I ask?”

  “Nope.”

  She wiped her face, straightened her shoulders, and stepped outside. It was time, long overdue, that she get over Jake Johnson.

  Charlie’s sudden reappearance in her life couldn’t have been more perfectly timed.

  Even as she thought the words, her heart broke further. Charlie wasn’t the answer, but at least she had somewhere to go while she sorted her life out and decided on her next move. Old friends seemed like exactly what the doctor ordered.

  Chapter

  Thirteen

  Charlie opened the door in unbuttoned jeans hung low on his hips, eyes puffy with sleep and his dog tags hanging off one bare shoulder. “Tammy? What’s wrong?”

  Tamryn wiped her eyes, then shook her head. “Nothing. I’m good. I mean…” She wasn’t good. She was broken. She shook her head again, unable to find the words. What was she doing here? Had she really just left Jake? “Remember what you said about getting out from under Jake’s watchful eye?” She laughed, but the tears gave away the pain in her words. “I just did that.”

  “Come in, come in.” Charlie opened the door all the way, stepping aside for her.

  She waved to Reed and he pulled slowly down the gravel road, pissed off, Tamryn knew, but dammit, she was done being treated like a child by Colby’s boys. She’d had a protective older brother, but he was dead. She didn’t need
them to step into his place. They’d never had a chance of filling those shoes, though she’d appreciated their concern…to a point.

  She paused in the entryway, one eyebrow raised; beer bottles decorated the living room, spotted among pizza boxes, beer cases, and dirty clothes draped over half-emptied moving boxes. “Oh my.”

  Charlie rubbed his chin, smiling. “Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d use your key so soon.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You’re right. Why not?”

  Tamryn shrugged. “It felt weird? I haven’t seen you since high school, Charlie. I can’t just walk in like I own the place.”

  He looked down at her suitcase when he closed the door. “Yet you brought a suitcase. Staying for a while?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. Do you mind?”

  He grasped her shoulders. “I gave you that key for a reason. I want you here.” His brown eyes searched hers, his eyebrows bunching. “What’s wrong? You’ve been crying.”

  Tamryn took a step backward. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come.” Tears filled her eyes, and she took another step backward toward the door.

  “Whoa, wait.” He held his hands up, palms out. “Whatever’s going on, I’m your friend. I just, well, when I saw you again, it was like yesterday. Like time hadn’t passed.”

  “Four years passed.”

  “I know, and…I don’t know, I guess I felt like I was home again. With you.”

  “You are home again, but you’re not with me.”

  “Yet.” He smiled his crooked smile, and Tamryn warmed at the memories of him, of the two of them, the only boy she’d ever tried to love outside of Jake Johnson.

  But that was just it. She’d had to try.

  “I’m in love with Jake, Charlie.”

  His eyes widened, and he rocked back a bit. “No shit?”

  She shook her head. “No shit.”

  “And you told him tonight? That’s why you’re here?”

  “No. I didn’t tell him. I’ve never told him. He has no idea.”

  Charlie grabbed her suitcase, pulling it from her grasp. “Come on. Sit. I’ll get you something to drink.” He kicked Roc’s foot on his way to the kitchen. “Move your fat ass to bed, Roc, we have company.”

 

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