Beautiful Broken Mess b-2

by Kimberly Lauren

  “Are you sick, babe?” she asks, concerned. “I’m really hoping you’re not, because I thought we had plans tonight.” She leans in close to his ear. Now I feel like I’m interrupting.

  He stands up with her legs wrapped around his waist and holds onto each side of her face. “You’re mine, right?”

  “Considering I got this, I damn well better be.” I watch as she points to the inside of her right palm.

  Shortly after returning from her internship in Africa, Emerson had the word “Mine” in Jax’s handwriting tattooed on her palm. He had the same thing tattooed on his chest, except the mirror image. I don’t fully understand it, and it seems really fucking corny, but I can’t say I’m not envious of what they have together.

  I leave the room before their show becomes unsuitable for all audiences. They often forget where they are and who else is around. I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve had to ask Em to try and not take off my brother’s pants while I’m still in the damn room. Quinn and Cole aren’t any better. Being the fifth wheel really fucking blows.

  I was hoping to use this time to talk to Jaxon about certain issues that have been weighing heavily on me, but I guess that’s not happening again tonight. I make my way to Cole’s room, so I can try and unload some of this shit before heading out.

  I know they don’t mean to, but it’s really taken a beating on me to have to squeeze in time to talk to my own friends lately. I shouldn’t have to fucking schedule appointments with them. Whatever happened to ‘bros before hoes’? Not that Quinn and Em are hoes. Well, Quinn never was and Em’s not anymore.

  I knock twice and hear Cole’s deep voice call out, “What’s up?”

  “Everyone decent?” I ask, covering my eyes and pushing the door open.

  “Get in here, douchebag,” he replies.

  Cole and Quinn are lounging on his bed. She’s reading a book and he’s typing away on his laptop. It’s so… simple. I never thought I’d see the day that Cole West would be in for the night before two a.m., let alone nine p.m.

  “Is the doctor available?” I ask, in reference to an old joke.

  “Uh-oh, what’s up man?” Cole responds and immediately and sets his laptop aside.

  “The doctor?” Quinn asks, confusion written all over her face.

  “Cole used to be our therapist, I guess. We called him ‘Doc’ because he was the guy to go to with problems.”

  “Yeah, he is great like that.” She stares up at him dreamily. Freaking nauseating. “When can I be a patient?” she whispers while rolling closer to him. That’s my cue to leave. Yet again. I turn on my heel and grab for the doorknob.

  “Stop, man,” Cole says with a laugh. “We’re just messing around.”

  “Nah, I’m so sick of this shit. I can’t ever say two words to you or Jax anymore without interrupting some kind of love fest.” I’m ranting like a pussy now.

  “Aw, I’m sorry, Jace.” Quinn pats the bed next to her and I park my pathetic sorry-ass down. “I can leave if you guys want to talk.”

  “No, I don’t care if you’re here. I just need one conversation where someone isn’t down someone else’s throat.”

  “Deal,” she says. “Give them a break though,” she says, pointing to the door. “She just got back, so they’re in the honeymoon phase again.”

  “I know, I know.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “That’s why I haven’t blown a fuse in front of them yet.”

  “What’s up, son?” Cole smarts off again. I stare at him, not saying a word. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m done fucking with you, for real this time.”

  “I dropped Pre-med.” With Cole, it’s best to get straight to the point. He doesn’t have the attention span for beating around the bush.

  Quinn’s mouth drops open and Cole looks equally stunned. “Uh… what? You dropped out of school? It’s your senior fucking year, man. You couldn’t go one more year?” he scolds.

  “I didn’t say I dropped out of school. I said I dropped Pre-med.”

  “What the hell else are you going to do now? Changing your major this late in the game is not going to be easy.”

  “I’ve been double-majoring.”

  Another set of stunned faces.

  “I never wanted to be a doctor. Okay… well, I did once when I was sixteen and my dad and Jax stuck to the idea like glue. When Pops died, I just felt it was… right, you know?”

  “What’s your alternate major?” Quinn encourages me to continue.

  “Finance and Business Economics. Business, basically,” I reply with a shrug. “Okay guys, seriously. The stunned faces don’t fucking help.”

  “Go on… tell me the reasoning behind all of this,” Cole requests.

  “Look, I always saw myself taking over my dad’s business one day. I used to talk about it all the time with him. Then I spoke of being a doctor for like a week, and he acted like I walked on water for something I hadn’t even accomplished. Jax later took over that notion for him. I hear the way he talks about me to people, like I’m going to cure cancer.”

  “Is Pre-med too hard?” Cole asks calmly.

  “Fuck no, I was actually pretty good at it. I just don’t want to do it. I gave it a shot; I tried to love it. What I want to do is take over Pop’s company when my uncle retires.”

  “I’ve never even heard you say what your father did,” Quinn reflects.

  “Security,” Cole’s gruff voice responds.

  “The Riley Group.” I smile with pride at all my dad and uncle achieved together.

  The Riley Group began as a small business meant for personal and corporate security in the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex. Together they built a humble empire due to their high success rate and numerous government contracts. I love that it still has that small business feel though, and I hope to maintain that.

  My uncle Logan, who coincidently is my dad’s twin, has been responsible for all of the executive work since my dad’s death. The past couple of years he’s been keeping me up to speed on the company and trying to recruit me to take over when he retires. Seeing as the company is called The Riley Group, he wants it to stay in the family.

  It’s always interested me, but I thought I needed to follow through with medical school. I finally recognized how absurd I was, trying to be something I had no desire to be. The day I walked into the Registrar’s office and dropped Pre-med, it felt like a thousand-ton weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Logan was thrilled, and has been in constant communication, trying to teach me the ropes.

  “You’re having a hard time telling Jax,” Cole states.

  Even though it wasn’t a question, I answer, “Yeah. I don’t want to disappoint him and I’m hoping he’ll join me. I haven’t heard him talk about the company once since dad…” I trail off. “So I don’t think he has any interest.” Here’s the kicker… “I want you to join as well.”

  Quinn’s smile lights up the room and if Cole was hesitant before, her smile just shifted his focus away from anything negative.

  “Dude, I’d take any opportunity to work with you,” Cole says with a smile. “I never imagined we’d have the chance to.”

  “I know you and Jax are majoring in Business Journalism, so this is stretching the usefulness of that degree. But it just wouldn’t be the same to do this without you guys.”

  “Stop worrying about what Jax will think, Jace. He just wants to you to be happy. Whether he shows it lately or not,” Cole adds. “You also don’t need to try and hire us to keep us close. Although, I’ll definitely take you up on the offer.”

  “Aww, you guys really are like brothers. Like triplets, except Cole is the hot one.” And Quinn ruins it all.

  Cole’s bedroom eyes immediately lock down on her. I swiftly get up, kiss Quinn on the cheek, and tap knuckles with Cole. “We’ll talk more later. Thanks, Doc,” I say, as I head for the door. “Love ya, Quinny.”

  “Anytime,” he says through a mouthful of Quinn. At least they let me get halfway to the door th
is time.

  * * *

  The guys from class have been trying to coax me into going out with them since last year. However, most of my days were spent studying for two majors and squeezing in time with my brother and Cole. There never were enough hours in the day. Another reason I’m excited to drop Pre-med; more time to have fun and be an actual fucking college kid.

  I still need to call Ma and talk to her about all of this, which stresses me the hell out. Although right now I need to stop thinking about that. I promised Max I would go check out this “country” bar close to the tattoo shop I’ve been frequenting. Max has done the majority of my tats. I won’t lie, he does some pretty badass work. I’m not sure about his taste in venues though. I mean, a country bar in southern California?

  “Fucking Riley! You actually showed.” Max slaps me on the shoulder as I squeeze past the crowd.

  “Said I would,” I holler over the noise.

  “Hey, Texas! You feel like you’re at home now?” Danny asks, while passing me a beer. I shake my head and scoot it back. When I promised Audrey I wouldn’t drink again, I meant it. Even if I hadn’t promised, the hangover the next morning would have been enough to convince me it was a terrible idea.

  “You do understand that we don’t all wear cowboy hats, ride horses to work, and line dance, right?” I laugh.

  “You don’t? Huh…” Danny says, sounding disappointed.

  “I’m gonna grab a drink,” I point to the bar. The thing I’ve learned from the few times I’ve been able to hang out with these guys is to always have a drink in your hand. If you’re not drinking, they’ll pester the living shit out of you until you get one. I shoulder my way through the people up to the bar.

  I catch the cute bartender’s attention and call out, “Coke in a short glass.”

  “Got it, sweetie,” she winks.

  I lean up against the bar with my elbows bent and take in the crowded room. This place isn’t bad. I notice a set of pool tables upstairs, a dance floor on the first floor, and tall tables surrounding it for people to hang out and drink. The music is obviously country, which I prefer. And the girls are all wearing short dresses and cowboy boots, which I love.

  “Y’all are sweet, but I don’t drink,” I hear a sultry female voice say over the music. An honest-to-God southern accent pulls me from my people watching. At that moment, the bartender comes back with my drink in a tumbler. Perfect, this could easily pass for a Jack and Coke. I hand her a ten and tell her to keep the change. She tries to chat me up but now that I’ve heard it, I’m on the hunt for that voice.

  “Since you won’t let me buy you a drink, let me at least have a dance.”

  “Okay, just one though,” I hear her say flirtatiously.

  I watch a guy in a button-up Affliction shirt guide her toward the dance floor, and I know exactly who’s under his arm. I should have known from the first “y’all” she spoke. The douchebag twirls her once they reach the wooden floor and I see her laugh. I instinctively follow after them so I can get an up-close view and lean up on the railing that surrounds the floor. Why is she here again? And why does she still look so damn beautiful?

  There’s something about knowing how it feels to be with a certain girl, yearning for it, and knowing you can’t have her. I’ve had Audrey; she should be a distant memory at this point. But I still crave every dip and curve of her skin. My body knows where she fits perfectly against me and it won’t be satisfied until it has her again.

  “Staring pretty hard at my girl,” a deep voice booms from behind me. I already know who it is. Lane. I wouldn’t forget that guy.

  Without turning around, I say, “I guess you get off on seeing other guys with your girl. You sure as hell suck at keeping her yours, though.”

  He chuckles and positions himself right next to me, beer in hand. He leans his elbows up on the railing and looks out after Audrey. Just like I’m doing. “I don’t know… I think I do a pretty damn good job, seeing as she’s been living with me for over three years now.”

  I flinch at the idea of her living with any guy. Unwarranted jealousy flares through my veins and I can’t stop the bombardment of images in my head. What would it be like to have Audrey all to myself, to be able to touch her whenever I wanted, and to see her sleepy face every morning? I rub out an ache in my chest and continue to watch the loser with his hands on her hips, trying to pull her in closer.

  “How can you stand it, man? I mean, how the hell can you watch other guys put their hands all over her?” He has to have known what I was up to over winter break when I dragged her off alone. It’s probably best to leave that be. No reason to bring up the best damn sex of my life, which just so happened to be with his girlfriend.

  When her dance partner dips her backward and I catch him trying to look down her shirt, I begin rubbing my chest again. And despite what’s happening on the dance floor, Lane’s watching every move I make.

  “You act like a lovesick puppy, and yet you’ve never given her the time of day.”

  So she’s talked about me to him? That shouldn’t feel as good as it does. “You two have a weird relationship,” I express.

  “I guess it would be weird if I were sleeping with her. But I’m not.” My fists clench, because I’m not sure what to think of his words. “She’s like my little sister and I love that girl to death, meaning I would destroy any asshole that breaks her heart.”

  The threat isn’t lost on me. “Can’t break what was never yours.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” he replies.

  Just then, Audrey dances past us and our eyes connect as her idiot partner spins her around. Her head whips back to look again and I can see the confusion on her face, probably wondering why Lane and I are talking. Lane wiggles his fingers at her and she gives him a tense smile.

  “She’s worried I’ll hurt you,” he says, still maintaining forward focus.

  “I’m sure you could,” I state, “but she should also be worried that you would get hurt while trying.” He throws his head back laughing and it pulls Audrey’s confused glance back to us. I almost want to laugh with him, because her partner is starting to get annoyed at her lack of attention.

  “There’s too much shit between us,” I declare.

  “Maybe if you took your head out of your ass long enough to hear what she has to say, you’d change your mind.” When I give him a questioning look, he continues, “Have you ever let her talk?”

  I shake my head back and forth because it’s true. If I let her talk, she could convince me to do just about anything. Even betray my own brother by dating his ex-girlfriend, who cheated on him and got pregnant by another man. Shit… that’s a hard pill to swallow.

  “Fuck…” I continue rubbing because I have a feeling Lane’s about to make me feel like the biggest asshole known to man.

  “She came up here last year to talk to you, not your dickhead brother. But you guys wouldn’t know that, because you never let her say more than two words before cutting her off or ignoring her completely.”

  Huge asshole – check!

  “Oh, and before your ego grows any bigger… she’s been living in California since the day after she graduated high school. She didn’t make this huge trek out to talk to you last year. I sure as hell didn’t want her to waste her time driving even two minutes to see you.”

  “You both live here?” I ask, shocked.

  “You either quit staring at her like she’s holding your next breath or you go talk to her,” he says, ignoring my question and pushing off the railing.

  “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that?”

  “Nah, just protective of my girl.” I don’t need to turn around to see that he’s walking away. I guess this conversation is over. I wish he would fucking stop calling her his girl though. It’s unnerving how one guy can make you grateful that he’s around and enraged at the same time. If it weren’t Audrey that stood in between us, I think Lane and I could be friends. I can appreciate his no-bullshit policy
.

  The song is finally ending and I can already see Audrey’s partner trying to persuade her to go another round. Not gonna happen, buddy.

  - Six -

  AUDREY -

  Pete, or Paul, or was it Parker? Whoever this guy is, he reeks of cologne. My nose is stinging badly, my eyes are about to start watering, and my head’s beginning to pound. The entire dance I’ve been begging for the song to just end already, and now I need to tell him to take a hike. He got his one dance. I also need to find Lane ASAP to figure out why he was talking to Jace.

  The guy with a name that starts with P is still holding onto my hands as I’m trying to gently pull back. The upbeat country song we were just dancing to starts to blend into a slow song. Hell. No. I can’t have my face that close to his body or I’ll pass out from the toxic fumes. Why do guys insist on spraying themselves down with this stuff? It’s not a magical pheromone that’s going to have the ladies chasing you.

  “Mind if I cut in?” Jace’s voice growls from beside us.

  I don’t even have to think twice about his question. Immediately, I extract myself from Mr. Smell Good and grab Jace’s hands. I can hear the guy’s protests, but Jace moves us toward the opposite side of the dance floor. His movements are fluid and easy to follow.

  “Whatever reason you have for dancing with me, I don’t even care right now. Thank you for getting me away from him,” I say, smiling up at him.

  He places his hand on my waist and pulls me in closer. His nose scrunches up in disgust. “Damn, he should have just pissed all over you instead.”

  “Oh no,” I groan into his shoulder, “is it on me?”

  With my eyes closed, I feel the tip of his nose run from my temple slowly down to my neck. He’s sniffing me and it feels primal, possessive, and way too sexy. It’s everything I’m attracted to in Jace; his commanding touch mixed with his sweet softness. My nerve endings are on fire at the memory of what his touch can do to my body.

  “Don’t, Jace,” I breathe out in a whisper.