Clash (Gentry Generations)

by Cora Brent

  To soothe Luci’s feelings I left a generous tip and offered once more to pay for everything else but the fat manager wouldn’t even consider it. He escorted us to the door as if we were celebrities.

  The air smelled like desert rain. A brief storm must have washed through here while we were in The Outpost. People sidestepped the rapidly drying puddles on the sidewalk.

  “That was a tasty meal,” I said to jumpstart the conversation.

  Taylor was looking over her shoulder at the restaurant. “I guess being a damsel in distress has its productive moments,” she muttered.

  “Are you going to explain how you came to be in distress in the first place?”

  She shrugged. “I forgot to eat.”

  “Did you also forget where you were meeting your friends?”

  She stopped walking and fixed me with a stubborn glare. “Yes.”

  “Interesting.” I looked up and down the avenue. “So where’s your car?”

  She gestured. “In the park over by the lake. I can get there just fine from here.”

  “If my dad knew I let you walk all the way over there alone in the dark he’d skin me alive.”

  “Really?”

  “No. But I’d definitely receive a few grim sentences with the words ‘disappointed in you, son’ thrown in there and that’s infinitely worse.”

  “Right.” She crossed her arms over her chest and a wistful look crossed her face. “Your dad seems really cool.”

  “I know. That’s why I let him hang around with me sometimes. Please allow me to walk you to your car, Taylor.”

  She considered. “All right.” Then a small smile battled through. She was more than cute, more than pretty. She was that rare can’t-believe-she’s-a-mere-mortal level of beautiful. I liked how she was almost as tall as I was. I couldn’t look at her for more than a few seconds without remembering some of the more epic details of that one night when we’d battered the fundamentals of physical chemistry until we could hardly stand.

  “Stop,” she demanded as we walked side by side.

  “Stop what? I didn’t touch you.”

  A withering look. “You were thinking about it.”

  True. I was hard as sin. Ready to bust the zipper of my jeans. And I wanted to mess with her. “Thinking about what, Taylor?”

  She stopped walking again and tossed her hair over one shoulder. “The night we fucked each other raw less than an hour after we met, Kellan.”

  A trio of muscled guys in button down shirts who were traveling in the opposite direction paused and issued identical smirks. They looked like escaped extras from some oversexed eighties film. They were walking dick jokes.

  Taylor stared at them for a second until they moved on. “I might have said that more loudly than I planned.”

  I nudged her as we waited for a traffic light to change so we could cross. “Had to happen. At some point we needed to admit there’s an elephant in the room.”

  She winced and cleared her throat. “Look, I don’t know if it matters to you after all this time but inviting random guys home has never been one of my habits.”

  “In that case I was glad to volunteer as the exception.”

  The light changed and the walk sign flashed. Taylor waited until we’d reached the opposite sidewalk before speaking again.

  “I’m really sorry I was so rude to you when you showed up the next day.”

  A few hours after I’d embarked on a walk of shame back to my own apartment I had decided to apply some old fashioned manners. I snuck in through the gates to visit Taylor’s place, intending to ask her if she wanted to grab some food. Or a movie. Something resembling a real date. She wasn’t interested. Instead she was vehemently disinterested.

  “No worries. My hand recovered nicely after you crushed it in your front door.”

  “I don’t remember crushing your hand.”

  “You were busy composing four letter expletives.”

  She clucked her tongue. “An accusation I can’t deny.”

  “By the way, I never did figure out how to go piss up a flagpole.”

  “What? That’s not terminology I would use.”

  “No? My devastated feelings might be interfering with my memory.”

  “Again, sorry. You were just being nice.” She paused. “I was going through some shit at the moment.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “I didn’t really crush your hand, did I?”

  I held out my right hand and flexed. “It’s okay. My physical therapist promises that someday I might be able to hold a pencil again.”

  She snorted. “Now I know you’re full of shit.”

  I balled my hand into a fist and shadow boxed. “Sometimes.”

  Taylor had never really explained her earlier state of confusion and by now I’d figured out she didn’t plan to. Whatever had transpired before she drifted into The Outpost and did a swan dive beside the salad bar had obviously been unpleasant.

  “I’m right over there.” She pointed. “I appreciate you seeing me safely to my car.”

  “That’s yours?” I was slightly startled. Taylor’s vehicle was a pile of junk and not the classic kind of crap heap that got my brother Derek all excited. I wasn’t judging. My car was a pile of junk too. But Taylor’s pile of junk didn’t fit the girl I remembered who had an expensively accessorized condo and the attitude of a grand duchess.

  “Yup, that rusted tin can beauty is all mine.” She shot me a dose of side eye, perhaps expecting an attack of sarcasm. She would get no such thing, not from me, not about this. Especially because I’d observed that not only was the car walking the plank to the junkyard but it was crammed with…stuff. Clothes. Blankets. A cardboard box for a backseat passenger. I was no Sherlock Holmes but my deductive reasoning skills weren’t nonexistent. Taylor’s car looked like the aftermath of a slumber party.

  She had her keys in hand, ready to dismiss me. “Well, Kellan. Thanks for everything tonight. I really am glad that I had this opportunity to redeem my starring role in your memory as the ice queen that tried to slam your hand in the door.” She bit the corner of her lip. “You really do seem like a good guy.”

  I needed to try and pry some honesty from her before I walked away. “What did my dad ask you?”

  She was puzzled. “When?”

  “When I was rescuing your purse I saw him ask you something.”

  “Oh that.” She made a face. “Your dad asked if I’d eaten a meal today.”

  “Why didn’t you eat today?” I thought I knew the answer. And I partly hated myself for prodding her to admit it.

  She wanted to lie to me. I could see it in her face. The same kind of closed off defiant manner that I remembered well.

  “Why the hell are you here? It was a one nighter. I won’t even remember it six months from now. And neither will you. So fuck off, Kellan.”

  This time the fight drained out of her. She leaned against the blotched and rusty frame of her car. “I took the unwise step of skimping on my food budget. My roommate gave me the boot last month so her knuckle-dragging missing link specimen of a boyfriend could move in and I’ve been saving up for an apartment of my own.”

  “Where are you staying now?”

  A miserable smile and an affectionate pat on the car’s hood. “Tonight’s accommodations are courtesy of Casa Hyundai.”

  My eyes drifted back to the sad blankets, the cardboard box. The idea of letting this girl out of my sight to go sleep in a parking lot and be vulnerable to things I couldn’t stand to think about haunted me already.

  I had cash in my wallet. I’d gladly give it all to her. But she’d never take it. I was sure she’d be insulted by the offer, climb behind the wheel and take off before I could say another word.

  “I live in a two bedroom apartment,” I said. “It’s just my brother and me.”

  “That must be nice.” She was in a hurry all of a sudden, unlocking the driver’s side door.

  “Taylor.” I reached out and t
ouched her arm. Her skin was hot, almost feverish. “Stay at my place tonight. Please.”

  The flash in her eyes made it clear she’d misread my intentions. I’d like to think I didn’t emit the kind of asshole vibes that cast me as the type most likely to take advantage of a hungry, homeless girl.

  I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, I’m not trying to direct a sequel to our first encounter. I’m offering you my bed without me in it. You did pass out tonight after all.”

  She was already shaking her head. “No. Thanks but-“

  “The couch then.”

  She stopped shaking her head.

  “It’s actually a futon,” I explained, trying to talk quickly before she could decline. “My cousin Cami gave us a bunch of furniture back when she and her husband Dalton decided to redecorate their house with all this rustic farmhouse shit that cost a fortune and fuck, that doesn’t matter, but it’s not a bad place to sleep and nobody will bother you there.”

  She wavered. And yet I was still sure she’d refuse. I mentally stocked more convincing ammunition. But then she looked into her car and a heartbreaking expression of weariness overcame her as she slumped against the frame.

  Taylor rubbed her eyes. “I can’t believe how tired I am.”

  “Then get some rest in air conditioned comfort. No strings. My brother will already be home and asleep. I won’t even bother you with my obnoxious small talk when we get there.”

  “Kellan,” she began and then ran out of words. I had a feeling her mind was ordering her to tell me to piss off but the rest of her didn’t have the strength.

  “You can trust me, Taylor.”

  Finally, after she fought an internal battle and lost, a weak smile appeared. “Did you say you still live in The Palms?”

  “Apartment 2060 West.”

  Taylor took another moment to chew over the idea. “I can’t leave my car here.”

  “Fine. My car’s just two blocks away. If you drop me off you can follow me home.”

  She said nothing. The keys dangled from her left hand and her eyes strayed toward the quiet lake. The night was moonless and somehow a little forbidding.

  “All right.” She unlocked the door to the passenger side. “Just for tonight.”

  Chapter Five

  Taylor

  The sound of a refrigerator being opened is universal. I recognized it with my eyes still sleepily shut and with no clear recollection of where I was.

  Then a finger of awareness poked me, suggesting something was off about the situation.

  And I remembered something.

  My car didn’t have a refrigerator.

  My eyelids snapped open and I bolted upright. The room was hazily lit thanks to thick window blinds that shut out all but a trickle of morning sun. But I could still see the naked guy in the kitchen.

  Well, nearly naked.

  A set of loose boxers struggled to stay on his hips as he tipped his head back and drank greedily from a pitcher. Not that I should be complaining about the view. He was all muscle and golden skin with a seductive V snaking between his hips that was clearly visible thanks to his sliding boxers.

  I started to feel weird about staring.

  So I coughed.

  He continued to drain the pitcher. I noticed an ear pod in his right ear. Something more dramatic than a cough would be required. I stood up and waved both arms in the air.

  That got his attention. He nearly dropped the pitcher.

  “What the f-“ he sputtered, tearing the pod out of his ear.

  “I’m Taylor,” I said. “I didn’t break in. I was sleeping on the couch.”

  He processed this information and didn’t react right away. He just stood there staring with his boxers so very low that I felt obligated to expand my explanation.

  “Kellan invited me to stay the night. You must be his brother. He didn’t tell me your name. At least I don’t think he did. My head is kind of in a bad place this morning. What is your name?”

  He recovered, set his pitcher on the counter and broke into a grin. “My name’s Thomas.”

  “Hi Thomas. I’m Taylor. Wait, I told you my name already, didn’t I? It’s still Taylor. I’m sorry if finding me in your living room was a surprise.”

  A thoughtful look crossed his face. “Kel texted me that a friend was crashing here and that he’d explain in the morning.”

  “I guess I’m the friend.”

  He nodded. “And I guess I just assumed you were a dude.”

  I glanced down at the pink tank top and black nylon shorts I slept in most nights. Thankfully I had not discarded my bra before nodding off. My ample breasts might have squeezed out of the sides and that would have made everyone uncomfortable right now. “I’m not a dude.”

  “I can see that.”

  There was a lull in the conversation. My eyes conducted a shrewd assessment of the guy. He was quite something, every bit as good looking as his brother. To my everlasting embarrassment he noticed where I was looking and hitched up his boxers.

  “I suppose I should put on some pants,” he observed.

  “If it makes you more comfortable. Do you know where Kellan went?”

  “Went?” He snorted. “It’s the crack of dawn on Sunday. He probably won’t quit snoring until after ten. At least.”

  Thomas disappeared down the hall briefly and reappeared clad in a pair of gym shorts and a blue t-shirt that said Brothers Gentry Garage. Upon his return he ducked into the fridge, retrieved a container and in one fluid motion swiped a glass from the cabinet. He filled the glass with the container’s contents.

  “Can I interest you in a breakfast protein shake?” he asked. He looked like he was about to drink a glass of green glue.

  “Wow, that’s really nice of you to offer but no thanks.”

  “Do you run?” he asked.

  “Sure, if something terrifying is chasing me.”

  He thought that was funny. “No time to start like the present. I’m about to go for a short five mile jog if you’d care to join the fun.”

  I was pretty sure I’d die if I tried but I hesitated to tell Thomas that. He was just so cheerful. And so muscled. And so…sporty. He was like a motivational workout video come to life.

  “Thanks, but I’d just slow you down.”

  His good mood was not soured by my refusal. He waved on his way out the door and told me to help myself to anything in the kitchen.

  I didn’t take his advice. Even though I knew I should get dressed and get out of here I rolled over on that insanely comfortable futon and fell asleep once more. Squandering the chance for sleep would be foolish at this point. I hadn’t enjoyed a decent night’s rest in weeks and didn’t know when the opportunity would come up again. A couple of times I broke down and rented a seedy motel room but the things that went on there ended up being far more frightening than anything I encountered sweating through a few hours of restless sleep in my car.

  When I woke again, enough time had passed to extract Kellan from his room and return Thomas from his ‘short’ five mile jog. They were leaning side by side against the kitchen counter muttering to each other and I would bet that the topic of conversation was currently lounging on their futon.

  Kellan held a yellow ceramic mug in his hand and I smelled coffee in the air. I hoped he consumed something more normal than his brother’s green glue for breakfast. He must have rolled out of bed very recently because his hair was all ruffled and his expression groggy. He wore the same Brothers Gentry Garage t-shirt as Thomas except it was gray. He looked obscenely sexy. Damn him.

  Thomas noticed me first. “Good morning again.”

  Kellan waved his cup in the air. “Hey. You want some coffee?”

  I would have loved some. Almost as much as I loved this futon. But now that everyone was awake, camping out in the apartment of a one night stand who saw me pass out from hunger had become awkward.

  “Thank you, but I’m good.” I stood up and began folding the lush pink blanket that had once
occupied an honored place on my king sized bed. When I still had a bed.

  Kellan and Thomas were looking at me.

  A few feet away sat the tired looking army green backpack where I’d quickly stuffed a bunch of items pulled from my trunk. There was a change of clothes and a handful of other necessities in there. I reached for the bag and hugged it to my chest, then relaxed my grip when I realized I was acting like a child with a security blanket.

  I could just imagine how all this looked to them. How I looked to them.

  “Guys, I really appreciate you letting me make a mess of your living room last night. If I could just use your bathroom I’ll get changed and be out of your way.”

  “You could stick around for a little while,” said Kellan. “Have some breakfast, enjoy some more of my vibrant wit.”

  Thomas coughed once into his hand. But then he smiled. “Seriously, hang out for a while, Taylor. Even if my brother is threatening you with his so-called vibrant wit.”

  Kellan scowled. “What’s with the abuse, kid?”

  Thomas grinned. “Just trying on some of your personality. Seems to fit.”

  “Up yours, golden boy.”

  Thomas shot me a glance and all of a sudden seemed embarrassed that I’d witnessed some of their sibling banter. “I hope we’re not scaring you off, Taylor.”

  They seemed like nice guys and they were going out of their way to make me relax. And I didn’t need to be at work for hours. Usually I didn’t work on Sunday but I’d volunteered to help Cynda with counting inventory. There was no reason at all why I couldn’t hang out here until then.

  But I pretended like there was a crowded social agenda awaiting me outside this apartment. “You’re not scaring me off but I’ve already got plans this morning.”

  Thomas was disappointed. “That’s too bad.”

  Kellan was wiser. He knew I was full of shit. He took his time setting his coffee mug on the counter. “Well, we wouldn’t dream of asking you to break your plans. But before you go you can use the shower if you’d like.”