He clearly misreads my dismay, because his smile widens. “Yeah, I know. How lucky was I to be there just when she needed help? It’s only been two hours, but Zephyr here’s already helping me get reacquainted with all of the fun I’ve missed while I was locked down with Cadence.” Suddenly, he sings out, “She’s like the wind, through my trees.”
He grins and presses the writhing woman closer to his side. “Get it? Zephyr is the wind? The song from Dirty Dancing? You know? By Patrick Swayze?” He presses when I just stare blankly at him.
“Yeah, I know…” I say noncommittally and lean in to sniff him for alcohol. I frown when I smell nothing.
“Satisfied?” he asks, with a knowing smirk. I’ve been checking him like this since he started driving at sixteen.
I ignore him and glance over at Zephyr. “Are you on birth control?”
“Stone!” Beau yells, and turns her away, as if he can shield her from my words. “You’re a buzzkill, brother,” he says, with a scowl.
My shrug is unapologetic, and my stare unwavering. “No, I’m a gynecologist. And your reaction to a very straightforward question makes me think that safe sex isn’t a priority for either of you. It should be. You’re strangers. Who met at a gas station.” Says the pot to the kettle.
Beau mouths, “Stop.” And then turns to comfort his…hook up.
“I’m sorry, Zeph. He takes his work really seriously. Let’s go wait in the living room, before we lose interest in sex the way he has.”
I roll my eyes.
She laughs. “As if that could happen, stud,” she squeals, when he gives her ass a squeeze and rises up on her toes to kiss him.
Decidedly turned off by their display of affection and desperate for them to get out, so I can finish what I’m doing, before my date gets here. “Get out!” I snap.
He rolls his eyes, but in acquiescence. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, you’ve got work to finish. We’ll wait in the foyer.”
I give him a curled lip in response, but when he rushes ahead to open the door for her, I smile. At least he knows right from wrong.
I’m not sure the same can be said about me. I’m sitting here thinking filthy thoughts about a woman whose name I shouldn’t even say.
Suddenly, Beau sticks his head back in. “Oh, hey. Sorry. I came in to tell you that your date is here.”
My stomach dips.
“Oh, shit. Okay, I’ll be right out.” I glance over my shoulder when he doesn’t leave.
“She’s hot.” He waggles his eyebrows and grins.
“Get the fuck out,” I say, when I really want to ask, “really?”
I don’t know why I let Tyson talk me into bringing a date tonight.
After our workout, he invited me to dinner at Regan’s. Their adult night was a couples evening, he informed me. He said Regan would probably have someone with her, too.
I almost declined. But I decided that if I’m going to live here and be part of this circle of friends, I need to get used to seeing Regan in social settings—no matter how miserable it makes me.
My sleep is fitful at best. I only eat to fuel my workouts. I’ve picked up extra shifts at work and I can’t jack off enough to take the edge off my hunger for her.
At the same time, I’m so angry at her, there are days I can convince myself that I’m better off without her.
Almost.
But I know better. Yes, life is simpler without her. But, I’m not better off.
“Stone?”
I grimace and turn around to face Celine.
She’s a friend of Tyson’s from the gym. We talked on the phone a couple of nights ago, and she ticks all of my boxes. Sexy, smart—she can hang with me on a hike and climb, and then talk to me about all of the things that interest me - movies, books, food, travel, family, politics.
I have zero interest in her. Because, no matter how great she is, she’s not Regan.
“Hey, sorry. I was just wrapping up some work. Did you find the place okay?”
She smiles - it’s sweet and sincere and does nothing to stir my interest. “Yeah, this is nice,” she says, and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.
I follow her out to get this first/last date out of the way.
Chapter 51
Flat on my Face
Regan
“I’ve had too much to drink,” I whisper to Dina, as she slides into the seat next to me.
We’re sitting in the living room by ourselves now. Everyone else has gone through to the dining room to eat. But I don’t want to because Stone is there with that woman he brought, and I’ve never hated anyone, on sight, the way I hate her.
“Uh, I told you that three shots ago,” she whispers back, and hands me a glass of water.
“Did you? I don’t remember.” I take the glass and chug.
“Come on, Remi has dinner laid out, and they’re ready to eat.” She nudges me when I just shrug. “Let’s go. Food will help you feel better.”
“I don’t wanna. He’s here. And I don’t want to see him.”
Her eyes widen with interest, and she slides closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Who is he?” She glances around the room, as if trying to see someone she’s overlooked.
I grab her arm and squeeze, until she meets my gaze, her eyes widen.
“You’ve got mayhem in your eyes, Regan,” she says, but she’s far from disapproving. In fact, she looks like she wants in on it. I snicker. I don’t know why I don’t drink more often. Life is a lot more fun this way.
“He is him. The hand,” I hiss and pantomime someone taking a picture.
Her jaw drops. “Oh my God,” she squeals, before she covers her mouth with her hands and screams into them.
“Shhhhh.” I shake my head in disapproval. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m aware that the room shouldn’t keep moving once I stop, but I have bigger fish to fry right now. With this liquid courage coursing through my veins, I feel like I can do anything, including draw blood from a stone.
“I thought you said he was a local you met.” If the look on her face is anything to go by, she is thoroughly scandalized. I’m delighted.
“I lied,” I admit, in triumph.
“Does anyone else know?”
“Yup, his brother.”
She grabs me by the shoulders and gives me a shake. “Regan, who is it?”
I groan at the way my brain bounces, but when she shakes me again, I blurt, “Stone.”
Her jaw drops. “Not Dr. McDreamy? No fucking way. He’s soooooo hot. But so tightly buttoned up. No way. Not him,” she says, her eyes wide.
I snort in disagreement. “He’s not even close to buttoned up,” I inform her, with pride.
She purses her lips, and her eyes dance with excitement. “So, you two met in Mexico, but nobody knows?”
“Pay attention. I said his b-brother knows.” I wave my hand in the air to dismiss him. “But he’s never gonna tell because he’s afraid Marcel won’t play golf with him anymore or something.”
Dina looks at me askance, and I roll my eyes. “And also, maybe, because he loves his brother so much, he doesn’t want the big bad adulteress to ruin him,” I quip, and then burp loudly.
“Reg, Dina, what are you doing?” Remi sticks his head into the room, and his smile turns into a frown when he catches sight of me. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He gives me a disapproving once over.
“Well, nice to see you, too, brother,” I say, and give him a two fingered salute and reach for my drink.
“I was just getting her some water before I brought her in.” Dina stands.
“You’re not on the clock; you don’t have to explain to him,” I tell her, and grab her hand.
Remi shuts the door behind him and walks over to where I’m sitting. “Are you drunk?”
I widen my eyes in mock affront. “No. I had a few drinks. In my own house. Is that a crime?”
He rolls his eyes ceiling-ward and groans, before he cuffs my arm and lifts me to standing.
>
“Come eat. You’ll feel better,” he says, and starts leading me to the door.
“I don’t want to,” I whine, I let him pull me because I’m too wasted to fight.
When we get to the closed French doors, leading out to my backyard where the food is set up, he stops and spins me to face him.
“You’re so handsome, Remi,” I croon and stroke his cheek. He gives Dina a helpless look over my shoulder, and I pat his chest. “Don’t you worry. I’m fine.”
“You will be, as soon as we get some food in your belly, and more water down your throat. “
“I know how to behave, Remi, and I’m not drunk.” I shove him and, promptly, stumble and land on my ass.
He grabs my arm to haul me to my feet and gives Dina a dark look.
I wave a finger under his nose. “Don’t you dare blame her. I’m an adult. Go on. I don’t need you to drag me. I am perfectly capable of making an entrance without your help.” I pull my hand out of his grasp.
“I’ll walk with her,” Dina volunteers, and links arms with me.
“See, I’m fine.” I flutter my lashes.
“Remi?” Kal calls him and with one last, long disquieted look, he opens the door and steps outside.
As soon as he’s gone, Dina grabs my shoulders, turns me to face her and peers at me.
“Okay, Lady Chaos. Are you sure you don’t want to go to bed? Sleep this off?”
“I’ll be fine, as long as I don’t have to sit next to him.” I assure her.
I mutter under my breath to Dina as we walk out into the warm evening.
The backyard is what sold me on this house.
The huge pool and attached hot tub take up most of it. The summer kitchen with the fire-burning brick oven is spacious and tricked out with everything from a wood burning pizza oven to a Spit large enough to fit an entire pig.
And of course, when I look around the backyard, the first person I see is Stone sitting there without a care in the world.
My heart, so stupid and foolish, does a flying leap like it’s trying to get to him.
It hurts when it meets the hard wall of my chest in a painful thump.
That’s what you get for wanting what you can’t have.
I turn away from him and walk toward the table laden with the meal I spent all day preparing. It’s Jamaican fare – Oxtails, curry goat, coconut curry shrimp, Ackee and Saltfish, rice and peas, fried dumplings, brown stew chicken and beef patties I picked up from Cool Runnings in Rivers Wilde’s Market Food Hall. And a huge pitcher of Guinness punch.
Remi and Kal are sitting with Hayes and Confidence. Last thing I need is to deal with the smugly happy couples.
“Let’s go sit with Tyson,” I say, and turn to head to where he’s sitting with the newest member of his little fan club.
“Uh, you go ahead.” Dina lets go of my hand, and turns to head back, the way we were coming, before I can object.
I’m almost there when I hear an annoying, braying laugh, coming from the hot tub. “That asshole, he has the nerve to sit in my hot tub with a girl who laughs like a donkey. And hasn’t even said hello to me? I’m gonna tell him what’s what,” I mutter. I spin on my heel and head toward them.
“Hey, Regan, your seat is over here.” Tyson stands and heads over to me. But I don’t even look his way. I’m on a mission.
Stone looks in my direction, just in time for him to see me trip over my feet and fall flat on my face.
Conversation comes to a halt, and everyone looks over at me.
Humiliation burns, and I close my eyes, as I hear the scrape of chairs being pushed back and feet crunching grass, as they rush to help me.
A large hand cups my elbow, and I look up to see Hayes, lifting me off the ground.
Oh God, Hayes Rivers is being nice to me. This has to be the lowest point of my life.
“I’m fine, thank you.” I tug my arm free of his grasp and brush the dirt off my blouse and shorts.
When Tyson puts an arm around me, I let myself be led away. I grab a bottle of Blue Moon from the cooler. I drop into the seat next to his and chug it.
“Slow down.” Tyson pulls the drink out of my hand.
“I’m so sick of everyone saying that. I’m fine. Worry about your damn self,” I snap, then reach over and grab his glass and down the caramel colored liquid in one gulp. I wince as the liquor burns a trail down my throat.
“This isn’t like you,” he says.
“You don’t even know what that means,” I inform him.
He looks at me sideways. “Wha—?”
Stone and his little perfect perky young pretty are out of the hot tub and head our way.
“I need to pee,” I announce. “My bladder isn't what it was before three kids.” I use the arm of the chair to lever myself to standing, but sway as I do.
“Let me help you,” Tyson says.
“No,” I whisper angrily. But it’s too late.
“She’s really drunk,” Celine pretends to whisper, as she drops into a chair around the small table I’m sharing with Tyson.
“Aren’t you going to call her Captain Obvious, too? Or is that just for the girls you fuck?” I ask. I giggle, but no one else does.
“What did you just say?” Tyson asks.
“Oh, grow up, Tyson,” I snap at him, and then spin on my heel with a loud burp.
Halfway across the yard, I kick my shoes off, so I can walk faster.
I get to the bathroom and shut the door behind me and suck in deep breaths. I slide down the door and drop my head on my knees.
When my heart isn’t tap dancing on my sternum anymore, I open my eyes and use the counter for support to get up. I reach to turn on the taps, and, for a second, I don’t recognize my own hands.
In the months since I started rebuilding the shattered foundation of my life, nothing has changed more than they have.
They tell the story of the new me in a language that’s universal, but in a pattern that only I understand. They’ve become my visual anchor to the present.
The three diamond eternity rings stacked on to my right forefinger remind me that I gave birth to three little lives that will always be mine to cherish.
The tattoos that run on either side of my left middle finger read “Weh nuh ded, nuh dash weh” in my mother’s Jamaican patois, reminding me that as long as I’m breathing, there is hope.
On the inside of the bare ring finger of my left hand, my name is tattooed. And that reminds me that now, I belong only to myself. That my second chance is only one heartbeat away. I just have to not give up.
Now, if only I could find a way to murder that woman Stone brought here tonight and get away with it.
I ignore the stab of pain, the sense of betrayal, the melody that hurt plucks out on my heartstrings with the reckless abandon of fingers dancing across a guitar’s bridge.
I told him to move on.
So, why does it make me breathless with pain to find that he has?
I know that this is for the best. It’s just that… Stone Rivers stripped every shred of protection I put around my most tender places. And, my stupid heart hasn’t learned any of the lessons I’ve tried to teach it. It wants what it wants and when it comes to Stone, it has the allegiance of my body, too.
Feeling fortified and strong again, I head back out. I’m not going to sit there and watch Stone with another woman all night. I don’t need this shit. Stone can have his stupid little girlfriend.
With my equilibrium back in place, I walk back out to the backyard.
Chapter 52
Memory Lane
Stone
Hayes and Confidence left a few minutes ago to relieve their babysitter, and he whispered, “You’re so fucked,” when he hugged me goodbye.
He was right.
Regan’s expression as she walks out of the house is a little terrifying. She’s grinning, but it’s more like a predator baring their teeth than a smile. Her dark brows are drawn low over eyes that look like they’re rea
dy to shoot lightning.
I’ve always known she’s possessive and even though I feel a trickle of unease at the way she’s watching Celine, it’s nice to know that she’s jealous.
Because I am, too.
Of her brothers, of her friend Dina—even her clothes have earned my envy tonight. They all get to touch her, talk to her, tease her. And I have to sit here, watch it all, and pretend that’s not my girl.
And it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. If I could stop looking at her, it might be easier. But I can’t. I’m so greedy for the sight of her.
She’s wearing this scrap of blue fabric masquerading as a blouse. A delicate gold chain belt wraps around her tiny waist. Her little white shorts are probably illegal in some autocratic countries.
I can’t take my eyes off the supple, taut skin of her thighs as she walks right past me to sit next to her brother.
“Did I say you could smoke weed in my yard?” She shoots Tyson the middle finger before she sinks down next him.
“She gets passive aggressive when her feelings are hurt. It’s her tell.” Tyson says, laughing through a haze of smoke from the joint he’s just fired up.
“I am not being passive aggressive. Why are you such a traitor?” Regan asks and splashes him with water.
He just laughs and continues to poke at her. “She’ll never actually say that she’s upset.”
“Tyson, that is a lie,” Regan says, her indignation real, this time.
Tyson’s grin only grows more mischievous. “No, it’s not. I’m not judging you, Reggie. We’re all friends here, right, Stone?”
I narrow my eyes at Tyson’s cajoling tone. “Right.” But without any of the humor he’s exhibiting.
“How about everyone tell me how you know each other,” Celine says in a singsong voice, taking the joint from Tyson and taking an impressive draw.
“Why don’t you start since you’re so new?” Regan answers with a singsong that’s just a touch shy of being mocking.
Celine’s smile widens. “Okay! Well, I moved here to work with Teach for America after I graduated from BU. I’m so glad I joined that gym. I’ve had the hardest time making friends with anyone but work people.”
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