Where We Belong

by Shann McPherson

  “Hey, Murph.”

  I jump at the sound of the voice coming from behind me. A familiar voice that makes my eyes widen in fear as a cold shiver runs through me. Turning, I meet the piercing blue eyes of Emma, Harley’s ‘friend with benefits’, for lack of a better description. I openly wince, feeling all the blood drain from my face.

  Now, it’s not that I don’t like Emma. I do. She’s nice enough and, in fact, over the years she and Harley have been doing their thing, she and I have become quite close. Under any other circumstance I’d love to see Emma standing in front of me. But the problem is she knows better than anyone that Harley and I are absolutely not a couple, because she hooked up with him only a few weeks ago when she was in town visiting her sister.

  “Hi,” I finally say, my voice suddenly hoarse with the nerves racking through my entire body.

  My eyes flit to Nash and Anna who are still currently all over one another by the pool table, and panic begins to set in. Where the hell is Harley? Has he told her? Does she know our secret? What if she gives everything away with one innocent remark? My heart races thunderously in my chest.

  “So,” Emma starts, a mischievous grin curling her lips. “You and Harley, huh?” Her eyes sparkle as she waggles her brows up and down suggestively and, surprisingly, I don’t detect even the slightest hint of phoniness in her tone. Maybe he did tell her. Maybe she’s just playing along. Thank goodness. I really didn’t want my humiliating lie to come out tonight of all nights, in front of everyone. I’d never be able to live it down.

  “He didn’t tell me until I got to town this afternoon,” she continues. “But I, for one, think it’s great.”

  Wait. What? I can’t even try to conceal my confusion.

  “Yeah!” She nods excitedly, clearly noticing the bewilderment in my eyes. “I’ve been rooting for y’all to get together forever!”

  So, she really thinks we’re together? Harley told her we were together, for real?

  I’m shocked. For all the years I’ve known Harley Shaw, I’ve never once known him to forfeit casual sex. I’m more confused than ever now, but I try to act unaffected as I offer a casual shrug. “Yeah.” I laugh once, swallowing hard. “It’s no big deal.” I brush it off with a wave of my hand before pulling my wallet from my purse. “I’m gonna go grab a beer,” I announce to the table. “What’s everyone drinking?”

  “Miller Lite!” Kevin and Seth yell out over the music, holding an empty pitcher in the air. I roll my eyes, laughing at them as I take the jug with me, snaking my way through the crowd toward the bar.

  And, that’s when I spot him, behind the bar, serving a line of customers waiting at the counter. For a moment, I just stand there, on the spot, watching him. The way he moves so effortlessly, reaching for glasses up above, and bottles behind him, pouring shots like some professional mixologist as he laughs casually with his customers like they’re his very best friends. I clamp my bottom lip between my teeth as I continue staring at him from across the bar.

  He looks good tonight. His wayward curls are contained by a backward End Zone cap, his strong jaw shadowed with a smattering of stubble. His dimples pull into his cheeks as he laughs at something someone says to him, adding a hint of boyish charm to his already charming exterior. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat with every word he says, and the tattoos inked into the smooth skin over his forearms seem to dance with every movement of his strong hands and long fingers. I’m not normally attracted to tattoos, but the longer I find myself unable to look away from him, the more they taunt me, hypnotizing me. I have to force myself to snap my gaze away, my eyes widening at my own thoughts.

  Oh no. Please no. This isn’t right. It can’t be. Despite the dread sitting at the bottom of my belly, I convince myself to continue ahead and, by the time I come to stop at the counter, I find Harley right there, smiling down at me with a grin that only causes his green eyes to sparkle deviously like he knows a secret, and that’s literally the last thing I need to see right now. I shake my head in an attempt to push him and his beautiful eyes to the very back of my priorities.

  “You told Emma?” I hiss over the counter, placing the empty pitcher on the bar.

  “Yeah.” He nods, looking at me with a crease of confusion pulling between his brows. “Isn’t that the point of this whole thing? To … tell people?” He shrugs a shoulder.

  “Yeah, I guess.” I sigh, not realizing until this very moment just how soft and full his lips seem to be up close. Again, I shake my head at my own thoughts. “But Emma? She’s your … your smash buddy. You said so yourself.”

  He shrugs again, focusing on the beer tap in front of him as he fills a new pitcher. I take a seat at the bar in an attempt to catch my breath a moment, and when I glance back over my shoulder to see Anna and Nash kissing passionately for all to see, his hands groping her ass over the tiny satin slip she’s wearing as a dress, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I can’t stop my face from scrunching up in disgust. I guess it’s safe to assume their differences from yesterday are forgotten. And, for a moment, I wonder if the same goes for mine and Nash’s moment together on the balcony last night.

  I know I should be relieved, but I’m not. If I kissed Nash last night, would it have all been some horrible mistake to him this morning? Would I have been made to look a fool right now, watching the two of them flaunt their love right in front of me? Because I sure as hell feel like a fool right now. I’m not sad. I’m pissed off.

  “You okay?”

  I jump a little at Harley’s voice, low and raspy, right by my ear, his breath warm as it fans against my skin. Looking up, I see he’s standing beside me with a pitcher of beer in each hand.

  I swallow hard. “How much do I owe?” I ask, opening my wallet and rifling through for some cash.

  “Murph, I’m not taking your money.”

  I glare at him, quickly shaking my head in dispute.

  “Consider it a perk of dating the owner.” He winks, nudging me playfully with his elbow. I deadpan, and he grins down at me. With an eye-roll, I throw a handful of dollars into the tip jar before following him through the crowded bar back toward our booth, holding on to the hem of his T-shirt as he leads the way so as not to lose him in the crowd.

  We pass Nash and Anna, and I glance over to see them finally playing their game of pool. She’s bending over the table, lining up her shot, and he’s leaning over her almost indecently, pressing a kiss to her shoulder in a way so intimately familiar it makes me blush. But then his gaze lifts, and his blue eyes find mine, and in that flash of an instant, something passes between the two of us, something that makes me stumble over my own two feet.

  “You all right?” Harley asks, steadying me as he hands me a glass.

  I nod quickly, taking it from him and gulping back a few mouthfuls of beer. Glancing sideways, I watch Anna celebrate her shot, Nash wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her tight and pressing a kiss to her cheek. But then, once again, his eyes meet mine from across the way. Only this time I don’t look away, finding something deep within his stare that causes my heart to feel as if it’s stopped dead cold in my chest.

  Forcing myself to look away, I turn to Harley, watching as he talks to Emma. And I can’t help but notice how he’s smiling at her, looking at her as if she’s the only woman in the entire world. Captivated by her. He’s hanging on to every one of her words, completely rapt in her. I can’t mistake the twinge of something I can only describe as jealousy surge through me as it comes to bubble beneath the surface of my skin. And it’s ridiculous. Me? Jealous of Emma? Jealous of any of the hundreds of other women Harley Shaw has been with over the years? It’s absurd.

  But then without even realizing, my eyes begin to betray me, slowly trailing Harley from his head to his feet, and back again, to the way his End Zone T-shirt hugs his lean muscles, to the trademark jeans he wears, the ones that fit him as if they’ve been molded to each of his strong thighs. With a suddenly dry, scratchy throat, I down the remainder of m
y beer before pouring myself another from the pitcher on the table.

  Glancing back at Nash and Anna, finding them once again kissing unabashedly, their hands all over one another, I don’t even care. But, when I find myself looking back at Harley, the hint of a smile pulling at my lips, I realize at that precise moment that I am in way over my head.

  Chapter 18

  I had it all worked out in my head. My plan was foolproof. At least, I’d thought it was. But with every ounce of beer that I consumed, the more the finer points of my shoddy plan began to blur into a pixelated haze I couldn’t for the life of me remember the details of. It was simple. All I had to do was get drunk enough so I could forget about Nash, and try it on with Harley without being all conspicuous and awkward about it. I was going to test myself. To see if my feelings for him were real, or if it was just my mind playing tricks on me.

  Easy, right? You’d think so, huh.

  I wrap my arms around Harley’s shoulders, standing on my tiptoes, and I crane my neck to place a kiss on his cheek. Of course, he shoots me a confused look, his brow furrowed as he tries to make sense of my unexpected act of affection. But, thankfully he goes along with it, ducking his head to reciprocate with a kiss on the very tip of my nose; a move so unlike him it renders me a little breathless, but I somehow pull myself together. I tug him closer and he wraps his arms around my waist, burying his face into the crook of my neck, and I breathe him in, quickly becoming lost within his embrace.

  I blame the alcohol.

  I close my eyes, breathing in his heady scent of cologne, mint and liquor, smiling in an unexpected yet contented bliss. I’ve never felt this before, this all-consuming warmth as it floods through my body. But, when I finally manage to open my heavily lidded eyes, pulling myself from my Harley-induced reverie, I find Nash standing by the jukebox, watching me intently with an unreadable expression on his face. His lips are twisted to the side and his jaw is working overtime, clenching and unclenching, ticking almost painfully. A deep crease is etched between his brows, and his eyes are glaring as he runs a hand through his hair, his shoulders rising and falling in a heavy sigh before he tears his gaze away. I can tell he’s trying to remain unaffected, but I know him better than that. He’s very much affected.

  I should be smiling like the Cheshire cat that got the canary. But I’m not smiling. Hell, I’m not even happy about it. I’m indifferent. And I suddenly understand why. With Harley’s arms still enveloping me, his big hands splayed against the small of my back, and that damned scent of his that’s invaded its way into every one of my senses, I feel something I’ve been unprepared to feel up until this point. Nash’s jealousy means nothing to me, because I am wholeheartedly consumed by everything Harley, and I like it. It’s official—my dreaded suspicions are confirmed—I like Harley Shaw. I wish I could blame it on the alcohol, but this has nothing to do with how much I’ve had to drink. I’m in dangerous, confusing territory, and I have to get the hell out of here before I perish.

  “I need to pee!” I yell, surprising not only myself but Harley, too. He pulls back just enough to gauge me with a wide-eyed look. “Sorry.” My nervous laughter sounds strangled and nothing like myself as I move out of his embrace. I step backward, stumbling over my own feet and knocking into a table. But I collect myself enough to flash him a wavering smile before turning and practically running to the bathroom.

  I splash some cold water on my face, desperate for some clarity for my deeply conflicted mind. Resting my hands on the porcelain sink, I take the chance to collect myself, taking a few deep breaths in the hope it might sober me up enough to realize I need to get my shit together. Placing my glasses back on, I look up and catch sight of my reflection in the mirror, shaking my head at the girl staring back at me.

  “Who are you?” I hiss, wiping at the mascara smudges beneath my eyes.

  The old me would never have concocted such a devious plan as to fake a relationship with my best friend, to make my other best friend jealous. Yet, here I am, drunk on a Wednesday, losing myself in Harley’s penetrating, all-consuming gaze. This whole thing is getting way out of hand. I’m becoming a victim of my scheme, tangled within my own web of lies.

  “Oh, hey, Murph.”

  I watch Anna’s reflection walk behind me in the mirror with a sweet smile on her flawless face before she disappears into the stall. I groan inwardly because I am just not in the mood for her right at the moment.

  “I’ve barely had a chance to talk to you all night!” she calls through the door while peeing, and it’s all very awkward, to be honest.

  “Yeah, sorry.” I look down at my chipped nail polish. “I’ve been a little—”

  “Oh my goodness!” she interrupts with a dramatic gasp. “I’m so sorry about last night. I don’t know what came over me. I passed out before I could even thank you for bringing me back to the suite.”

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” I shake my head as guilt twists low in my belly.

  “I’m so ashamed of myself and the way I acted,” she continues. “Nash told me I was in quite a state. I definitely shouldn’t drink during the day.”

  I nod although I know she can’t see me.

  “He told me you left pretty much straight after I fell asleep?”

  I’m not sure why, but her question catches me off-guard. Nash told her I left? He didn’t tell her that I stayed for at least two hours after she passed out, or that I helped him drink the champagne he’d ordered for their romantic night in? He didn’t tell her we almost kissed? I feel something pull hard in my chest. Something I’ve never felt before. Guilt? Absolutely. But there’s something else.

  “Murph? You still there?”

  The flush of the toilet pulls me from my thoughts and I snap my head up, clearing my throat. “Um, yeah, sorry. Yeah—” I stammer. “Yeah, I left … pretty much straight after you went to bed.” Anna walks out of the stall, smiling at me. “I was so tired. I went home and I actually fell asleep on the couch,” I add for effect.

  Washing her hands, she watches me in the mirror’s reflection before turning and resting against the sink, taking a moment to look down at me. The intensity within her gaze is enough to make my heart race. I don’t even know why, but she just has this way of intimidating me with one look.

  “You know,” she begins, folding her arms over her chest, “I really like you, Murph.”

  Oh God. I take a deep breath, pressing my lips together in something that resembles a smile, grinding my teeth together almost painfully as I wait for her to continue. But she doesn’t continue. My smile falters as she leans in, wrapping her arms around me in an unexpected embrace, and I remain frozen in place, my arms by my sides until she pulls away. And with one last smile, she turns and walks out of the bathroom, leaving me all alone.

  I find myself in the mirror once more, and I can’t help but glare at my own reflection.

  ***

  I walk back through to the bar to see a lot fewer people than there had been before I hightailed it to the bathroom. Anna’s bridesmaids are nowhere to be seen. Kevin is long gone. Emma is playing a game of pool with Seth. And the only other people left are a few die-hard regulars perched at the bar, and a guy and a girl who look to be on a first date, whispering sweet nothings to one another, in a booth by the front windows. Harley is sitting at the table, talking to Nash and Anna, and just as I consider making a swift exit without anyone noticing, he catches my eye from across the space. Lifting his chin in my direction, offering a small smile, they all turn to see me, and I know there’s no escaping now.

  Dammit.

  I’m so confused, conflicted in every sense of the word. I need to go home and sleep it off. I definitely should not be associating with the reason for my discontent, especially not when I’m going to be stuck in a car with him tomorrow for three hours while we drive to Myrtle Beach for the dreaded bachelor party. But, with a heavy sigh I force myself to continue across the room, stopping at the booth. I press my lips together in a tight
smile before sliding in beside Harley, reluctantly meeting both Nash’s and Anna’s eyes from across the table.

  “You okay?” Nash asks, his voice void of any semblance of care whatsoever.

  I shake my dizzy head. “I’m drunk.”

  “Well, serves you right for having all those tequila shots.” Harley chuckles, nudging me playfully with his shoulder.

  “Kevin made a bet that I couldn’t keep up with him!” I say, defending my choices.

  “Yeah.” He nods with a knowing smirk, snaking his arm around my shoulders and pulling me in close. “But he’s three times your size, and even he had to get his sorry ass carried out of here.”

  I roll my eyes with a shrug, trying not to give away the fact that his closeness is making me feel all sorts of things I shouldn’t be feeling, his arm around me is like something I’ve never felt before. It feels just right, but so, so wrong.

  “You two are so cute together.” Anna giggles. I look at her, finding her watching us with a goofy smile as she nudges Nash. “Aren’t they, babe?”

  Nash offers an unintelligible murmur, his eyes suddenly focused intently on some sports news program playing without sound from the television screen across the way.

  “How long have you been together?” Anna asks, looking between Harley and me.

  Harley flashes me a nervous glance.

  “Umm.” I think to myself for a moment, swallowing hard. I am way too drunk for this. “About … six weeks, or so.”

  Nash quickly turns his attention to me, his brow furrowed. “Six weeks?”

  I nod, confused by his abrupt tone.

  He looks to Harley. “But you told me you hooked up with that chick from Alabama a month ago!”

  “Yeah.” Harley shifts uncomfortably beside me, clearing his throat, flashing me another desperate glance.

  “I forgave him,” is all I can think to say, and I reluctantly meet Nash’s eyes, wishing I hadn’t. He looks suspicious as hell as he seems to overthink things.