Things We Never Got Over

by Lucy Score

  “Joel, you’re a true gentleman,” Lina said.

  The front door burst open, and Sloane appeared. She was makeup-free and wearing knockoff Uggs, leggings, and an oversize Virginia Tech football jersey. Her hair hung in a thick braid over her shoulder.

  “You must be the new trollop,” Sloane said.

  “And you must be the cavalry coming to save Princess Naomi from the She Beast,” Lina guessed.

  I snorted into my wine. “Sloane, this is Lina. Lina is the original Knox ex-girlfriend. Sloane is an overprotective librarian with great hair.” I pointed down the bar. “And that’s Joel our silver fox bartender.”

  Sloane took the stool next to me, and before her butt had gotten comfortable, Joel appeared. “You date the same guy too?” he asked.

  She rested her chin in her hand. “No, Joel, I did not. I’m just here for moral support.”

  “You wanna drink while you morally support?”

  “Sure do. How’s your Bloody Mary?”

  “Spicy as fuck.”

  “I’ll take a Bloody Mary and a round of Fireball.”

  Joel saluted and wandered off to make the drinks.

  One of the men at the pool table closest to us ambled over. He had impressive spikes on the shoulders of his vest and a Fu Manchu to write home about. “Buy you bitches a drink?”

  We swiveled on our stools as one.

  “No, thank you,” I said.

  “Fuck off,” Lina replied with a mean smile.

  “If you think referring to us as ‘bitches’ is going to get you invited into the conversation, let alone one of our beds, you’re about to be deeply disappointed,” Sloane said.

  “Move along, Reaper,” Joel told him without looking up from the quart of vodka he was pouring into Sloane’s glass.

  My phone buzzed on the bar, and I glanced down.

  Knox: That wasn’t what it looked like. I’m not seeing Lina.

  Knox: Not that it’s any of your business.

  Knox: Fuck. At least text me back and tell me where you are.

  For someone who was done with me, he sure texted a whole heck of a lot.

  Naomi: It’s this awesome place called None of Your Business. Stop. Texting. Me.

  I slid my phone over to Sloane. “Here. You’re in charge of this.”

  Lina held up her phone to show us a text.

  Knox: Where the fuck did you take her?

  “See?” she said. “Fear.”

  “I don’t think I’m going back to work today,” I said.

  “Hey, Waylay’s hanging out at the museum in D.C. with Nina and her dads. There’s no better way to spend a fall Saturday than getting blitzed.”

  “What’s a Waylay?” Lina asked.

  “My niece.”

  “The niece Naomi didn’t know about because her estranged twin sister sucks,” Sloane added. She twirled the tip of her braid around her fingers and stared blankly at the football game on the screen.

  “Are you okay?” I asked her.

  “I’m fine. I’m just sick of men.”

  “Amen, sister,” I said, raising my glass at her.

  “My sister, Chloe’s mom? She’s bi. Every time she dates a man who pisses her off, she ends up dating nothing but women for like twelve months. She’s my hero. Makes me wish I didn’t like penis so much.”

  Joel set a Bloody Mary with a floating stick of bacon in front of Sloane and didn’t bat an eye at the word penis.

  I winced. “Please don’t say penis.”

  “My experience with Knox’s equipment is almost twenty years old. So I can only imagine how much better he’s gotten with age,” Lina said with sympathy.

  “You know, with this whole guardianship, maybe it’s just better to focus on being a parent figure and forget about being a woman with…”

  “Sexual needs?” Sloane filled in.

  I picked up my wine. “How many glasses would it take to forget about sex?”

  “Usually around one and a half bottles. But that comes with a hangover that cuts you off at the knees for three days, so I wouldn’t recommend,” Lina said.

  “He really made me believe,” I whispered.

  Joel lined up the shots in front of us, and I stared at mine.

  “I know he said things wouldn’t go anywhere. But he made me believe. He kept showing up. Not just for me, but for Waylay too.”

  “Back the truck up. Knox Morgan? Spent time with your kid? Willingly?”

  “He took her shopping. He showed up at her soccer game and got her to stop swearing. He told her that strong people stand up for the ones who can’t stand up for themselves. He picked her up at a sleepover. Watched football with her.”

  Lina shook her head. “He’s so fucked up.”

  “All men are,” Sloane said.

  Joel stopped and gave her the eye.

  “Except you, Joel. You’re a hero among villains,” she amended.

  With a nod, he handed over a fresh glass of wine for me and vanished again.

  Sloane attached herself to the straw of her drink like it was a protein shake after a body building competition.

  “Okay, seriously. What’s going on with you?” I asked. “Does this have something to do with Lucian last night?”

  “Lucian? Now, that’s a sexy name,” Lina said.

  Sloane snorted.

  “A sexy name to go with a sexy man,” I agreed.

  “There is nothing sexy about Lucian Rollins,” Sloane said when she came up for air.

  “Okay. You’re definitely lying. Either that or an entire section of the Dewey Decimal System fell on your head.”

  She shook her head and picked up her shot. “I’m not talking about Lucian. None of us are talking about Lucian. We’re talking about Knox.”

  “Can we stop talking about him?” I asked. It felt like an X-Acto knife to the heart every time I heard his name.

  “Of course,” Lina said.

  “Cheers,” Sloane said, lifting her shot glass.

  We clinked glasses and knocked back the whiskey.

  A man with a toothpick dangling precariously from his mouth wandered up and leaned an elbow on the bar, crowding Lina. His t-shirt didn’t quite cover the belly that peeked out over the top of his black jeans.

  “Which one of you ladies wants to come check out the back of my bike?”

  Joel lined up another round of shots in front of us.

  Lina picked up her shot. Sloane and I followed suit and knocked them back. She put the glass down on the bar, and before Toothpick knew what was happening, she had the stiletto of her boot digging into his chest.

  “Go away before I make you bleed in front of your friends,” she said.

  “I like her and her shoes,” Sloane whispered next to me.

  “Christ, Python, leave ’em alone before your old lady shows up and cuts off your balls.”

  “Listen to the nice man, Python,” Lina said, giving him a shove with her foot. He slid down the bar a foot, then put his hands up.

  “Just askin’. Didn’t know you were lesbos.”

  “Because that’s the only reason we wouldn’t want to fuck you, right?” Sloane said.

  Sloane was a lightweight, and she’d already had two shots and a very strong Bloody Mary.

  “Can we maybe get some water?” I asked Joel.

  He nodded, then cupped his hands. “Listen up, assholes. The ladies aren’t lookin’ for a ride or a good time. Next idiot who bothers them is gettin’ thrown out.”

  There was a general muttering around us, and then everyone went back to what they were doing.

  “Joel, are you married?” I asked.

  He held up his left hand to show me a gold band.

  “All the good ones are taken,” I complained.

  The front door opened again.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Sloane groaned. Joel handed over a fresh Bloody Mary, and she dove for it.

  I swiveled around on my stool, wobbling a bit as the alcohol fought my equilibri
um.

  “Oh, my,” Lina purred next to me. “Who are they?”

  “More cavalry,” Sloane muttered.

  Lucian and Nash wandered up to the bar looking six shades of gorgeous.

  FORTY-FOUR

  THE BABYSITTERS

  Naomi

  “This can’t be a coincidence,” I observed.

  “Knox called the cops,” Lucian said, nodding at Nash. “And the cops called me.”

  Nash skimmed me with a look. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine. Why are you here?”

  Nash blew out a breath, his gaze moving on to Lina. She arched an eyebrow at him.

  “We’re babysitting,” he said finally.

  My mouth dropped open. “We don’t need babysitters. Especially not babysitters who are just going to report everything we say back to Knox.”

  “I hate to point out the obvious, but given everything that’s happened, I don’t think you should be out unprotected like this,” Nash said.

  “Who said I’m unprotected? Lina just nearly pierced a man’s sternum with her stilettos,” I complained. “How did you find us?”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” Lucian said without looking away from Sloane, who was glaring at him like he was Satan incarnate.

  “You’ve got to be a Morgan,” Lina said, resting her elbows on the bar and giving Nash a head-to-toe sweep.

  “Lina, this is Nash. Knox’s brother,” I said.

  “On that note, I think I’ll be heading home,” Sloane said, sliding off her stool. She didn’t get far. Lucian stepped in on her, trapping her between the bar and his body without touching her.

  She tilted her head all the way back to look up at him.

  She was a foot shorter than the man, but that didn’t stop Sloane from shooting ninja throwing stars out of her eyeballs.

  “You’ll stay,” he insisted darkly.

  “I’m going,” she argued.

  “I count three empty glasses on the bar in front of you. You’ll stay.”

  “I’ll call a rideshare. Now get out of my way before I make you sing soprano.”

  Lina gave up ogling Nash and leaned over my shoulder. “Okay. What’s their story?”

  “I don’t know. They won’t tell anyone.”

  “Ooooh. I love a torrid secret past,” she said.

  “We can hear you,” Sloane said dryly without breaking her sexy staring contest with Lucian.

  “We’re all friends here,” I began.

  “No, we’re not,” Lucian insisted.

  Sloane’s eyes blazed, making her look like a fiery pixie about to commit a homicide. “Finally. Something we agree on.”

  My phone vibrated at Sloane’s elbow. Seconds later, Lina’s phone signaled a text. Nash and Lucian both reached for their pockets at the same time.

  “For someone who doesn’t care about you, Knox sure seems concerned about how you’re doing,” Lina said, holding up her phone again.

  “And what you’re saying about him,” Lucian said with a smirk.

  I shook my head. “I think I’m gonna share that ride with Sloane.”

  “No!” Lina grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Don’t give him the satisfaction of ruining your day. Stay. We’ll get more drinks. Talk more shit. And everyone who stays has to swear a blood oath they won’t report back to Knox.”

  “I’m not staying if he’s staying,” Sloane said, shooting a murderous look at Lucian.

  “And the only way you’re leaving is in my car, so sit down and order some goddamn food,” Lucian ordered.

  Sloane opened her mouth, and for a second, I was worried she was going to bite him.

  I clapped a hand over her mouth. “Let’s get some nachos and another round of drinks.”

  Missed Calls: Knox 4.

  “No fair! You said they were off-limits, Joel,” a drunkard with a skullcap and tattoos under his eyes complained from one of the pool tables when we sat down at a table with Lucian and Nash.

  Joel flipped him the middle finger while our babysitters shared a look.

  “See? I told you we didn’t need babysitters. We have Silver Fox Joel,” I said.

  “Maybe we just want to spend some quality time with you,” Nash said, giving me the patented Morgan grin of sexiness.

  I sighed hard enough to blow a napkin across the table.

  “What’s wrong, Nae?” Sloane asked.

  I thought about it for a beat. “Everything,” I answered finally. “Everything is wrong or broken or a mess. I used to have a plan. I used to have it all together. I know you guys might not believe this, but people didn’t use to break into my house. I didn’t have to fend off ex-fiancés or worry about the example I was setting for an eleven-year-old going on thirty.”

  I looked around the table at their concerned faces.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Forget the words came out of my face.”

  Sloane pointed a finger in my face. “Stop that.”

  I picked up my glass of water and blew bubbles in it. “Stop what?”

  “Stop acting like you don’t have the right to express your own feelings.”

  Lina, looking stone sober despite the fact that she was on her fourth scotch, knocked her knuckles on the table. “Hear, hear. What’s up with that?”

  “She’s the good twin,” Sloane explained. “Her sister sucks and put the family through the wringer. So Naomi made it her life mission to be the good kid and not inconvenience anyone with things like her feelings or her wants and needs.”

  “Hey! Mean!” I complained.

  She squeezed my hand. “I speak the truth with love.”

  “I’m new here,” Lina said, “but wouldn’t it be a good idea to show your niece what a strong, independent woman looks like when she lives her life?”

  “Why does everyone keep saying that to me?” I groaned. “You know what I did for me? Just me?”

  “What did you do?” Lucian asked kindly. I noticed that his chair was angled toward Sloane, crowding her almost protectively.

  “Knox. I did Knox just for me. I wanted to feel good and forget about the hurricane of crap for just one night. And look what happened! He warned me. He told me not to get attached. That there was no chance at a future. And I still fell for him. What is wrong with me?”

  “Care to chime in here, gentlemen,” Lina suggested.

  The men exchanged another look full of manly meaning.

  “I can hear them mentally going through the Man Code appendix,” I whispered.

  Nash wearily scraped his hand through his hair. It was a gesture that reminded me of his brother. “Are you okay? Do you need to rest?” I asked.

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Naomi.”

  “Nash got shot,” Sloane explained to Lina.

  Her assessing gaze slid over him as if she could see through his clothing down to his skin. “That sucks,” she said, lifting her glass to take a sip.

  “Not one of my favorite experiences,” he admitted. “Naomi, you’ve gotta stop wondering what’s wrong with you or what you did wrong and understand the problem is with Knox.”

  “Agreed,” Lucian said.

  “Look, we lost a lot when we were kids. That can fuck with some people’s heads,” Nash said.

  Lina studied him with interest. “What did it do to yours?”

  His grin was a flash of humor. “I’m a lot smarter than my brother.”

  She looked at me. “See? No one wants to be real and put their baggage on the table.”

  “When you trust someone to see you for who you really are, the betrayal is a thousand times worse than if you hadn’t handed them the weapons in the first place,” Lucian spoke quietly.

  I heard Sloane’s sharp intake of breath.

  Nash must have picked up on it too, because he changed the subject.

  “So, Lina. What brings you to town?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

  “What are you, a cop?” she joked.

  I
found that very amusing. Sloane found me spraying a fine mist of water over the table just as amusing, and we both dissolved into giggles.

  A ghost of a smile played on Lucian’s lips.

  “Nash is a cop,” I told Lina. “He’s the cop. The big, important one.”

  She eyed him over the rim of her glass. “Interesting.”

  “What did bring you to town?” I asked her.

  “Found myself with some time off and I was in the area. Thought I’d pay my old friend a visit,” she said.

  “What do you do?” Sloane asked.

  Lina ran her finger through a water ring on the table. “I’m in insurance. I’d tell you more, but it’s incredibly boring. Not nearly as exciting as getting shot. How did it happen?” she asked Nash.

  He shrugged his good shoulder. “Traffic stop gone bad.”

  “They catch who did it?” she asked.

  “Not yet,” Lucian answered.

  The chill in his tone had a shiver running down my spine.

  “I’m going to hit the restroom,” I said.

  “I’ll come,” Sloane volunteered, jumping out of her chair like it was electrocuting her.

  I followed her into the gloomy hallway, but when she held the door open for me, Nash stopped me. “You got a second?” he asked.

  My bladder was nearing the red zone, but this sounded important.

  “Sure,” I said, signaling to Sloane to commence peeing without me.

  “I just wanted you to know that I’m looking into the list you gave me,” he said. “I’m not officially back on duty, but that just means this is getting my undivided attention.”

  “I appreciate that, Nash,” I said, giving his arm a squeeze. It wasn’t a crime to appreciate the muscle, right?

  “If you remember any other details about this red-haired guy, you’ll let me know?”

  “Sure,” I said, my head bobbing. “I only talked to him that one time. But he stands out in a crowd. Muscular, tattooed, bright red hair.”

  Nash’s eyes got a funny faraway look to them.

  “Are you okay?” I asked again.

  He gave an almost imperceptible head shake. “Yeah. Fine.”

  “Do you think he could have something to do with the break-in?”