Us After You

by Claudia Burgoa

  Surely, he wasn’t flaunting his huge, famous family in front of me, was he?

  “I worry about him,” he says, and I’m not sure if he’s thinking out loud or trying to carry on a conversation with me.

  “He seems fine,” I add, because, really, the world could end, and I doubt Sienna or Patrick would care at all. They have each other. “So, he’s a Decker?”

  Tucker shakes his head. “We might not share a last name. but he’s my brother,” he states, and his eyes are glued to him. “Your sister seems like a nice woman, but I wonder if she’s right for him. He’s gone through a lot. If I could, I’d give him my family, but he never accepted them. Not the way the rest of the guys did.”

  What can I possibly tell him about Sienna that will ease his worry and soften the wrinkles on his forehead?

  “She’s caring and sweet,” I say, and that’s all I have because my sister is high maintenance.

  There are two kinds of people: those who give and those who take. Sienna takes and she needs a giver in her life. If this guy Patrick isn’t a giver, we’re in deep shit.

  “She loves him, if that helps,” I add as an afterthought.

  “Love isn’t always enough,” he answers, and I’m not sure if he’s being philosophical or a cynic. “Never mind.”

  “No, please, I think we both want the same thing: for them to be happy. She deserves it. Everyone deserves to find love, to find someone who’ll give themselves without expecting anything more than love in return.”

  “I wouldn’t know from personal experience, but I’ve heard it happens,” he says, and his words feel … lonely.

  That loneliness makes me want to take his heart and nestle it between my arms, maybe even tend to the wounds that I’m sure are still open. Who hurt him?

  His eyes look vacant. Today, the hue seems like the color of the stormy ocean in the middle of a tropical storm. High winds and no sun. Am I captivated by the story behind the man or just his strong personality?

  I shouldn’t care, but I want to get to know him better.

  Mom doesn’t miss a beat to make my life a living hell though. “Did you hire a quartet for the after party?”

  I stare at her incredulously. “The what?”

  “After party, Sage,” she repeats. “You booked it, didn’t you?”

  God help me, I mumble.

  “Are you seriously telling me that you’re going to humiliate me in front of everyone, again?”

  “Can I have this dance?” Tucker asks and doesn’t wait for me to agree. He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the floor dance.

  “She’s intense,” Tucker says, once we’re dancing. “Maybe next time, you should think about the family name.”

  He laughs and the rich, gruff sound gets under my skin. He stares into my eyes, my knees shake. It’s the combination of his warmth and his earthy, musk scent. I’m so intoxicated by his presence I’m lost in the moment. I take a breath, trying to keep myself focused on the wedding—not him.

  Why am I fighting this attraction?

  Because he makes me feel off kilter. After Douglas, I promised myself I wouldn’t fall for a man who made me want to lose myself in him. This guy though … I might’ve judged him too soon.

  I regret the way I’ve behaved with him from the moment we met at the bar.

  Don’t believe everything you read, he said.

  I should apply it not just to the online gossip but also to my defense mechanisms. He’s not the enemy. Maybe a misunderstood man who, like me, has to be cold and distant with strangers.

  We’re afraid to get hurt. To never be accepted. To never be loved.

  “What if we start again?” I ask boldly. “You can ask me for another drink and…”

  He goes very still. His penetrating eyes hold mine. I hold my breath as we stop swaying to the rhythm of the music, heart pounding, hands sweating.

  “Babe, sorry to interrupt, but can we have a minute?”

  We both turn to our left, where a woman a couple of inches shorter than me, wearing a beautiful purple dress, stands. She smiles at him, glowingly.

  “Please,” she says, grinning and extending her left hand where I notice her engagement ring.

  I close my eyes. Un-fucking-believable. He’s with someone. Not just someone. He has … a fiancée.

  Right as I try to open up, he shows me I wasn’t all that wrong about him. Does this poor woman know he was trying to fuck a stranger only a few weeks ago?

  This is horrifying, embarrassing, and so familiar.

  How many of my ex-husband’s mistresses were part of our circle of friends?

  A ton. I sigh and shake my head, trying not to puke in disgust.

  “Sorry, I—”

  “Yeah, go to … you know.” My voice isn’t angry, more like disappointed.

  It’s like when you’re ten, and even though you know the tooth fairy doesn’t exist, you leave your molars under the pillow, hoping for a miracle. Though you already know your parents are the ones who leave a note under your pillow, telling you that even when they leave a five-dollar bill, you should be mindful of your teeth and brush them better.

  Good looking men aren’t loyal nor supportive, and they believe they can walk all over you.

  What I need is a safe guy.

  One who I can hang out with and just … I need a companion, not a love affair to remember. Because I know how those stories end.

  18

  Tucker

  Hannah always has the best and worst timing. This was the moment I’ve been waiting for, my in with Sage Heywood. The chance I didn’t even know I still wanted to have with her until she asked me to start again. She offered me the golden ticket.

  One drink, one moment to learn more about her. Catching glimpses of her isn’t enough. I wanted to say the perfect words.

  I already fucked my first chance and the second had to be … fucked by my best friend.

  Sage is cute, and maybe worth waiting for, but I can’t ignore Hannah who is usually pretty chill but looks like she is about to lose her shit.

  “I mean, what is wrong with this wedding?” Hannah asks annoyed, maybe even angry.

  Studying her, I realize she’s just the former. “Everyone seems happy—except the fucking mother of the bride. She’s been yelling at the employees. Do you have any idea of the lengths they went through for us? I’m using favors, and that bitch is making Mom and me look like ungrateful people.” Hannah gives me a nasty glare and continues with her complaint.

  Because I love her, I let her vent. However, this isn’t my doing.

  “I’m this close to having security escort her out—she doesn’t own the hotel, and I paid for the wedding.”

  I adjust my tie, the one she made me wear because it’s a wedding.

  “What do you want me to do? Because you know I’ll do it. I hate when people upset you.”

  “Let me vent for one minute before I lose my last strand of patience and I drag her out myself,” she repeats the threat. “She reminds me of Alicia—but with class.”

  I try not to chuckle because her squeaky voice is comical. “Are you okay?” I ask because Alicia, her birth mother, was a piece of work and … she abused Hannah to the point of mental breakdown—twice.

  “Yes, it’s nothing,” she continues and then looks over at Sage. “She’s pretty. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

  “Who?” I ask, hoping she’s talking about anyone but Sage.

  “The sister,” she responds casually.

  Shrugging, I look at the time. “How long do I have to stay?”

  Hannah glances at me unamused and shakes her head. “I always thought that he’d ask you and the guys to be his groomsmen.”

  “Well, he didn’t ask.”

  She seems to be lost in thought, like she’s in plan mode.

  Not that she’s much of a planner, but, sometimes, she gets an idea or two, and we have to watch her because she always includes us in said plans. And most of the time, it’s hard to tell he
r no—they’re always fun.

  “Are you going to ask them to be part of your wedding party when it’s your turn?”

  I laugh. “Seriously, Nana?”

  “Fine, be that way. Someday, a woman like her,” she pauses, pointing at Sage, before she continues, “is going to come into your life and change your mind about … everything.”

  “Do you think she’s a natural redhead?” I ask, trying to divert the conversation.

  She smirks. “You should find out.”

  Okay, I walked right into that fucking joke, and I’m not going to say more. So I try something different. “Nah, she’s not my type.”

  “There’s this teacher—”

  “No. Stop trying to set me up,” I order.

  She keeps introducing us—Zeke, Ethan, and myself—to her new friends. “Didn’t you learn that you’re shitty at being a matchmaker?”

  “Life is better when you share—”

  “Where’s Alex?” I ask, and then remember he’s back in Colorado with his mom. “How’s Ari?”

  She smiles. “She’s doing well. I’m flying back after the wedding, which should end soon, even when the crazy lady is asking for an after party.”

  “Are they giving it to her?”

  “No. There’s no place to set that up, and I’m not paying for it. I swear our wedding is going to be super laid back. I might let Alex get away with his no tuxedo request,” she claims.

  “When is the big day?”

  “We’re planning it for the end of September or maybe October,” she says. “Close enough to our anniversary, but far enough from the first day of classes, so I can ask for a week to go on our honeymoon.”

  “What anniversary?” I ask, confused.

  Her smirk is priceless, like that of a child who stole a cookie and knows where she’s hiding it. “You don’t want to know what kind of anniversary. Now that Rocco is back.”

  “Why wait until September?” I insist.

  “Fine, it was the first time he kissed me,” she whispers. “That’s what we celebrate—kind of. It seems like a great day to promise forever.”

  “You’re such a romantic, Hades.”

  She smiles. “So are you, Decker. You’re just afraid of not being loved.”

  “Now you’re psychoanalyzing me, aren’t you?”

  “Nothing would make me happier than to see you happy.” She turns to Rocco. “Like him. Even if we’re not thrilled with his choices—I’m not talking about Sienna but Midnight Buzz.”

  “They suck,” I agree. “Do you think she’s going to make him happy?”

  “Look at his smile. How often do you see him this relaxed? When have you seen him this happy? She’s his entire world.”

  “That’s why you helped them with the wedding?”

  She nods. “The house and everything they need. I’ll give it to them. He’s finally in a good place. She grounds him.”

  Alex and Hannah didn’t buy them a house. They bought the house next door to them and leased it to Sienna and Rocco. The rent payment goes against the purchase of the place. She’s making him work for it, which I applaud. We have to stop handing him everything he wants.

  Hannah is right, they look happy, but looks can be deceiving. Not many relationships last—or marriages for that matter. Those are the worse.

  It’s not being a cynic; it’s being skeptical. Cynics don’t believe period. I, on the other hand, don’t believe that all relationships are long lasting. If someone had asked me about Hannah and Alex four years ago when they were just fuck buddies, I’d have said it wasn’t going to last.

  They worked for it; they grew into each other. They became an extension. No, more like a new entity. Two bodies, two minds, but one heart and one soul. It’s a strange math problem, but I know that, with effort, it can happen.

  Trying to believe that Rocco has that is hard because I don’t even know who he is anymore.

  “Do you think he’s going to be okay?” I finally ask the question out loud.

  She looks at him thoughtfully for a few beats. “Time will tell, but I’m hopeful. This has to be it.”

  My heart squeezes because she’s just as afraid as I am, and what if this is a shit show that ends up in tragedy?

  Sage said her sister is nice, but that long pause hid something. A story, maybe the truth.

  And what if Sienna isn’t the right person for Rocco?

  Hannah grabs my arm and checks the time. “Do you think you can be in charge of the last hour?”

  “Leaving so early, Cinderella?” I joke.

  “Alex needs me,” she says. “Sometimes that’s all you need. The person you love the most by your side to hug you and remind you that even if things aren’t perfect—they are with you.”

  “Keep selling it, I might drink the Kool-Aid,” I joke.

  She tilts toward Sage. “Her Kool-Aid might be magic. Why don’t you try it?” Hannah says, giving me a quick hug before she walks away.

  Turning to where Sage stands, I wonder if I should try?

  Then I remember I’ve already dealt with too many women telling me I’m not enough, so what’s the point in even trying?

  19

  Sage

  I try to avoid visiting Sienna the same way I avoid eating Brussels sprouts. Nothing against my sister. It’s her husband’s friends who I try to avoid. Well, more like Tucker Decker.

  Before anyone thinks I’m still upset about his fiancée, I’m totally over the whole ordeal. He can continue having a weird relationship with her while I’m happy with Corbin.

  Yep, I finally convinced myself that it’s been long enough since the divorce, and it’s time to do something for myself. More like, I found a guy worth dating.

  He’s not a rock God converted into some kind of financial mogul, but he’s a nice guy.

  Single dad, Baker’s Creek insurance agent, and he enjoys reading the classics. He’s always around the bookstore browsing through the old editions we receive weekly. We get along well and that’s what matters.

  Is he tall, lean, muscly, and good looking? Nah, but he’s a good guy.

  Tucker who?

  Avoiding my sister could only last for so long, though, because how can I say, “Sorry, but your husband’s friends aren’t my cup of tea”?

  More so when she calls me to announce she’s having a baby—in September.

  I’m proud of myself, though, I didn’t say, umm… you got married only two months ago. Sienna also invited me to her gender reveal party. I’m just hoping she does that with donuts—creamed filled donuts. Mmm. Just thinking about them makes me want to go and search for a donut shop.

  Unfortunately, as I pull into the driveway, there are a few guests already looking at me. I freeze when Tucker’s eyes find mine. That penetrating gaze holds me captive for several seconds until I’m reminded of his fiancée—who is right beside him—and well, Corbin.

  He gives me a slight smile and walks toward the car door, opening it and offering his hand, “So I take that you didn’t organize this party?”

  I desperately wanted to disappear, but how could I when eight pairs of eyes are on me. “Tucker.”

  My voice comes out normal. There’s no hint of anger, shame, or hate. I shouldn’t harbor any of those feelings for him. He was nice for five minutes. Saved me from my mother. Offered some insight on his family. Creating a scenario where I could share a drink with him and maybe more … well, that’s all on me.

  I’m trying not to judge his relationship though. Many couples have different rules. Open relationships, polyamory … to each their own. Fine, he hurt my pride.

  Not that I care anymore. I’m happy with Corbin. That doesn’t stop me from giving him a glance. The t-shirt hugging his torso is a thin piece of fabric, covering his rippled muscles.

  Listen, I’m human, and even I can appreciate his well sculpted body. There’s no harm in doing that, right?

  “Are you guys going inside?” I ask, wondering what they’re waiting for.


  “We didn’t bring a present,” his fiancée responds. “It wasn’t clear if they required one, and we never agreed on the price tag. We’re deciding between ordering something from a bookstore or giving them a check.”

  “Which we don’t have with us,” the tall guy next to her answers and looks over at the trees that surround us. “Which means one of us has to go to our place next door and bring the checkbook. Not it,” he says and the rest follow.

  The woman laughs and rolls her eyes. “These men are worse than children. We haven’t met. Hannah Hades.”

  “Spearman,” the guy next to her says, more like protests.

  “Not yet, but soon, babe,” she whispers, and he gives her a peck on the lips.

  “Very soon,” they both repeat, looking into each other’s eyes with so much love, I’m confused.

  “We should go for the checkbook, babe,” he suggests with a mischievous grin.

  I look at Tucker horrified. Doesn’t he care about his fiancée almost jumping his friend?

  “Oh, fuck, they’re going to start. We should have a rule. No PDAs,” the other guy who is next to them argues and extends his hand. “Zeke Hutchence. You must be bar girl.”

  “Bar girl?” I frown.

  “You’re famous. We know you as the woman who said ‘in your fucking dreams’ to our boy Tucker. Bar girl for short,” he answers and smirks. “Well played, I already like you. Let me make the introductions. You know Tuck, blond guy is Ethan, the pixie is Nana—some call her Hannah. The guy next to her is her fiancé, Alex.”

  “Aren’t you engaged to Tucker?”

  She gags and says, “He’s like my brother. Never.” My shoulders relax, and for reasons unknown to me—and against logic—I grin at him.

  That’s when Hannah gives me a thoughtful gaze and rectifies. “I mean, he’s not … you should go out with him.”

  Okay, I almost say, but correct my posture and rearrange my thought.

  I already have a relationship. A boyfriend. Should I say Corbin is my boyfriend or are we just, you know, a couple without a title?

  It’s odd to call Corbin my boyfriend when the man already has a teenage son, isn’t it?