by Kendall Ryan
You don’t have to be good at dancing to have fun at the club. And Lord knows I’m not much of a dancer . . . the last time I set foot on a dance floor was with Hayes, and it wasn’t exactly the kind of music you’d bump and grind to.
With Hayes on my mind, I look back to see Caleb and Connor chatting up some pretty girls I don’t recognize, and Wolfie and Penelope engrossed in a deep conversation. Hayes stands alone, resting his elbows on the table as he takes a slow swig of his drink, which I’d bet a hundred bucks is bourbon on the rocks. Even with the crowd, his eyes are trained on me—on my hips—as I dance.
The music shifts into something slower, headier, and the alcohol in my bloodstream makes me braver. Swaying from side to side, I run my hands over my thighs and waist teasingly. I like dancing for Hayes, and he certainly appreciates the show. He smirks, jutting his chin toward the far wall, where I spot a glowing neon sign for the restrooms.
Another covert quickie? I’m down.
I whirl around to find Scarlett dancing with a circle of strangers, neon body paint giving them an ethereal glow.
I lean in, shouting over the music, “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“The bathroom.”
“Okay, I’ll come with you.”
Ugh, I didn’t think about the club code. Always take a friend with you to the bathroom.
“That’s okay,” I say, knowing my protest will fall on deaf ears.
“Let’s go.” She waves good-bye to her new friends, because who knows if they’ll cross paths again after tonight.
Reluctantly, I follow her lead across the dance floor and toward the restrooms. When I can hear myself think again, I grab her hand and gently pull her toward the wall. Her eyes are confused, but she waits for me to speak.
“I don’t need to use the bathroom,” I say, nervously crossing my arms over my chest. Is now the right time to tell her? I don’t even know if Hayes and I are . . . well, anything yet.
“What’s up? You don’t wanna dance anymore?” She rubs my arm protectively, concern spreading across her features. Scarlett is seriously such a good friend. She doesn’t deserve to be lied to, even if she doesn’t approve of Hayes’s dating habits.
“Not exactly,” I say, taking a shaky breath. “I was going to meet Hayes.”
“Hayes?” she asks, frowning. Suddenly, realization dawns on her face. “Oh shit, are you and Hayes a thing?”
I nod, my eyes prickling with emotion. What if she’s hurt that I lied? What if I’ve just ruined the night? I swipe a single tear from my cheek, cursing tequila for always making me so damn emotional.
But Scarlett doesn’t look hurt or angry at all. Instead, she smooths my hair and wraps me in her arms, squeezing me tight. “Tomorrow, when we do hangover brunch, you have a lot of explaining to do. For now, go have fun. I love you!”
She punctuates her words with a hard kiss on my cheek, and all the tension I’ve been carrying around falls away like a suit of armor I no longer need.
“Thank you. I love you too.”
“Oops, I got lipstick on you.” She laughs, licking her thumb and rubbing it away. “Go get him, girl. I’ll find Penelope and actually get her on the dance floor with me this time.” With that, Scarlett turns on her heel and heads back toward the table, where I’m sure she’ll give Wolfie hell for hogging our favorite new friend.
I smooth my dress of any wrinkles and make my way past the tables of drunken clubgoers, all the way to the back where I find Hayes, leaning against the wall with a quizzical expression on his face. When I’m close, he reaches for me, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering to cup my cheek.
“You okay? I thought you got lost.”
“I’m great.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Good,” he says, leaning down to kiss me firmly on the lips.
He tastes like bourbon. One hundred imaginary bucks for me.
The kiss turns fiery as I open my mouth, letting his tongue explore mine with the same curiosity as the first time we kissed. His hand ventures from the side of my face to my ear, sensually tracing the shape of it before sliding behind my neck, deepening the kiss. I press myself intimately against him, feeling him vibrate at my touch, his other arm wrapping tightly around my lower back.
My feet are nearly hovering off the ground when he breaks the kiss to ask, “You wanna get out of here?”
“For good?”
“Not if you want to come back.”
“Okay,” I whisper, capturing his perfect mouth in another searing kiss. I’d kiss this man 24/7 if I could.
Eventually, we untwine ourselves from each other long enough to find the exit into the alley, walking hand in hand toward the quieter, intersecting street lined with trees, coffee shops, and liquor stores. I lean against the brick wall, inviting Hayes to join me with a coy smile and a beckoning finger.
We’re entangled in moments, a flurry of hungry mouths and greedy hands, pushing and pulling with the familiarity of long-time lovers. When my fingers press over the firm bulge in the front of his jeans, he catches my hand in his, a breathless laugh warming my neck where his kisses have stopped.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, lifting one leg to wrap around his, pulling his hips closer.
He releases my hand, bracing against the cold brick, and rests his forehead against mine. “Not here, dove.”
“Why not?” I ask, grinding against him with a smirk.
“C’mon, Mare . . .”
“No, tell me why,” I demand, pulling my hips back. “I know you’ve gotten frisky with other girls in places like this, so it’s not a principles thing. What is it?”
“Maybe I’m not trying to fill some void inside me anymore.”
I scoff, more confused than upset. “What does that mean?”
He sighs, his voice low and pained. “I was only with those other girls because I knew I could never have you, Maren. But it never worked, because they weren’t you. And now . . . well, things are changing for me. For us. I’ve never felt like this before.”
The air between us is fragile, like it could catch fire or shatter like glass at any second.
I gently press my hands against his chest until we can look each other in the eye. With my heart in my throat, I ask the question that’s been hanging in the air between us since that night at the lake house.
“Do you have feelings for me, Hayes?”
His eyes are stormy in the glow of the streetlight, their normal lightness darkened with inner turmoil. He doesn’t look away, though, or clench his jaw, or fall back on any of his other avoidance techniques. He just looks at me. For a long time.
“Hayes?”
“I’m afraid if I say it, your brother is going to kill me.”
“Scarlett knows, and she doesn’t care. Wolfie won’t either.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do,” I say, grasping his shoulder tightly. His hands fall from the wall, his arms hanging limply at his sides, instead of around me where they’re supposed to be. “Just say it.”
Hayes drops his gaze to the cement, and I know all at once that I’ve pushed him too far. Now he’s going to shut me out again, close the door for good to this beautiful thing we’ve discovered. But even if it crushes me, I need to hear the truth.
With a numb heart, I release him, taking one staggering step away. Before I can move another step, though, I’m tugged back, spun around, and captured between two strong arms.
Hayes buries his face in my neck and whispers, “I love you.”
My heart lights up like a firecracker. I kiss him hard, gripping his hair between my fingers like it’s my only tether to the ground, or else I’d rocket into the sky. When I look into his eyes this time, I don’t see a storm. I only see the future.
“I love you too, Hayes Ellison.”
21
* * *
HAYES
My phone rings, cutting
off the song I was blasting mid-chorus. Wolfie’s name flashes across the screen. He probably wants to talk about the shop schedule or the new product line. I press ACCEPT and wedge the phone between my ear and my shoulder.
“Wolf, what’s up, man?”
“Hey,” he grunts, and then there’s silence on the line. Leave it to Wolfie to call me and not tell me right away what he’s calling about.
I release a slow breath and search for patience. “You still there?”
I put down the dishes I’ve been drying and listen for sounds of life. The line crackles, and I hear Wolfie clear his throat.
“So, you and Maren, huh?”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck. A heavy weight sinks to the pit of my stomach. This is not how I wanted this conversation to go.
“She talked to you?”
He grunts. I guess that means yes.
“Listen, Wolfie, I asked her not to. This isn’t how I wanted you to find out. I wanted to be the one to tell you.”
“What the fuck, Hayes? I thought I could trust you.”
Another punch in the gut. This is going worse than I thought.
“I know. I’m sorry, man. I should have talked to you about this sooner.”
“No shit. What the actual fuck? You need to start talking, and you need to start talking now. What the hell has been going on right under my nose?”
I sigh and run my hands roughly over my face. Fine. If Wolfie wants the truth, then it’s the truth he’ll get.
“All right, fine. Honestly? I’m a fucking kamikaze, man.”
“You’re a what?”
“A kamikaze. A suicide bomber. All those relationships I’ve jumped into and destroyed in the past? I sabotaged every single one of them.”
He pauses. “Okay . . .”
“Because they weren’t Maren. I’ve been in love with her for years. I was just too scared and too blind to do anything about it. I love your sister, man. And she loves me too. I hope you can accept that.”
Silence again. I can practically hear my heart pounding through my chest.
Finally, Wolfie chuckles. “Then you should be with her. Treat her like a queen.”
Relief floods my body. Every fear, every worry, every stress I’ve been holding on to for the past few weeks is gone in the blink of an eye. We have Wolfie’s blessing. We can be together, for real, all the way now.
“I promise I will. Thanks, Wolfie.”
He hangs up with a click, and I let the phone drop to the counter.
There’s only one thing left on my mind. I have to go tell Maren.
Later that afternoon, I’m sitting in a coffee shop, one hand interlaced with Maren’s, the other resting on her knee. We’re across the table from Rosie and Don, who’s starting to grow on me—even if it still makes my skin crawl to see his arm around my grandma’s shoulders.
Rosie hasn’t stopped smiling since we told her the news. Honestly, neither have we.
Having Wolfie’s blessing means we can stop sneaking around and be a couple out in the open, something I don’t think I realized my grandma was rooting so hard for. Hell, I think she was about ready to just go tell Wolfie herself if one of us didn’t do it soon.
“Well, aren’t the four of us quite a sight,” Rosie says, a wide smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.
Don rubs her shoulder and gives her a peck on the cheek. If I weren’t so damn happy about Wolfie’s blessing, that’s exactly the kind of thing that would have bugged me.
Maren runs her thumb over my fingers and gives me a reassuring look. She knows me so well. Too well, almost. That’s what makes us such a great team.
“You know, Rosie, we wouldn’t be here without you,” Maren says with a grateful shake of her head. “Really. Thank you for believing in us, even when we didn’t.”
“That’s my Rosie,” Don says, beaming at my grandma. “She’s a light.”
Maren squeezes my fingers. I know what she’s trying to tell me. Don’t even think about it. They’re adorable. Let Rosie be happy.
“I knew you kids would figure it out,” Rosie says with a wave.
“Your meddling says otherwise,” I say, half under my breath, and Maren swats my arm.
Rosie chuckles. “You two just needed a little encouragement, that’s all. The connection between you was plain to see. To the trained eye, that is.”
Maren and I exchange a glance. She smiles, and my heart squeezes. God, I love this girl.
“That right there, that look between you. It’s precious. Hold on to that,” Don says.
Rosie nods. “You’ll need it. Along with kindness and respect. Your relationship will suffer without them.”
Maren smiles. “Any other advice from your experience?”
Rosie screws her mouth up into a tight line for a moment while she thinks. Then it unwinds into a soft smile as she places her hand on Don’s knee. “All that stuff about how you should never go to bed angry? Bullshit. Sometimes it’s okay to sleep it off and try again in the morning.”
My ears perk up. I was expecting a generic platitude. This is genuine, coming from someone who really wants to help us.
Maren and I turn our attention to Don, who’s currently gazing at Rosie with the most admiration I’ve ever seen one person give to another.
“Always put the other person’s needs first,” he says, staring seriously into Rosie’s eyes. “Even when it’s hard. Even when it’s uncomfortable. Even when you think your needs are really important. Love is sacrifice, and your actions should reflect that.”
Wow. A real stunner of an answer from Don. I guess I need to give this guy more of a chance than I thought.
Rosie leans over and places a small kiss on his cheek, and Maren rests her head on my shoulder.
This isn’t the kind of family unit I ever envisioned for myself, with just me, my girlfriend, my grandma, and my grandma’s boyfriend. But right now, at this moment, the four of us feel like a family.
Of course, my family is more than this. It’s also the guys I work with—Wolfie, Caleb, Connor, and Ever. They’re my chosen family, the people I choose to be around. And Maren, well, she’s the girl I chose a long time ago.
I can’t believe how lucky I am to have her now. And there’s no way I’m letting her go.
EPILOGUE
* * *
MAREN
“I’m gonna need a break after this,” Caleb grumbles.
A very old, very heavy vanity is hoisted haphazardly over his shoulder as he follows Wolfie’s lead up the stairs. I try to stay out of their way, only jumping in to make sure we don’t do any damage to the antique, or to Riverside’s wallpaper on the way up to Rosie’s new apartment.
Rosie organized everything very neatly in preparation for the move, even offering to hire a crew. But, lucky for her, we have some beefy young men at our disposal already, the owners of Frisky Business eager to take the day off from the shop to do a little manual labor. Well, more likely it was the bribe of hot pizza and cold beer at the end of a long day that enticed them.
While Wolfie and Caleb unload the vanity and catch their breath, I pop said beers into the empty refrigerator and head back downstairs toward the truck. Scarlett stands in the bedroom, passing boxes down to Penelope as Connor slings garment bag after garment bag over his shoulder.
The apartment is fully furnished, so it was relatively easy to pack up Rosie’s life in a matter of days, putting a hodge-podge of remaining items up for sale online. Don also insisted that she didn’t need to bring any kitchenware, assuring us that he had enough for the both of them.
That’s right—Rosie is about to move in with her boyfriend.
Hayes is taking the transition pretty well, having come a very long way since his first introduction to Don. It was only a couple of months ago that Rosie sat us both down for another whiskey-infused tea-time chat and told us her exciting news.
“Don and I would like to take the next step in our relationship, as you kids like to say. You’ve taken care of your grand
ma all this time, my dear. I’m very grateful to you.” She then reached across the table to take both of our hands in hers, gently squeezing them. “Both of you.”
“Don’t you think this is a little fast?” Hayes asked, genuine concern in his voice. “You’ve only known Don for, what? Not even a year?”
“Life is short.” Rosie sighed, but her expression was cheerful. “I don’t want to waste any more time worrying about the proper way to do this or that. Don and I love each other very much. We deserve to be happy.”
Since then, Hayes has actively made an effort to spend more time with Don, signing him out of the nursing home to take him to baseball games and bring him to the shop. I’m proud of him, and honestly a little jealous of their budding friendship.
Rosie, I could handle. But battling Don for Hayes’s attention? It brought me an unexpected wave of unease. But I knew this was going to be a good move . . . for all of us.
Rosie’s deep laugh draws me back to the present, and I turn to find the three of them approaching, finally done signing the remaining paperwork. It seems to me that Rosie and Don have been holding hands since the moment they met.
The rest of the day passes quickly, a flurry of furniture rearrangements and pizza topping requests.
After we’ve called it quits for the night, I step away from the buzzing conversation and onto the apartment’s balcony to call in our order. There, I find Hayes leaning against the railing, his eyes focused on the orange-and-purple tapestry of the setting sun.
“Hey,” I say softly, leaning my head against his shoulder.
“Hey.” He wraps an arm around me, pulling me against his warmth. There’s nothing better than cozying up next to your favorite person after a long day like today.
“How are you doing?” I ask, looking up at him through my eyelashes. I can’t quite read his expression. If I’m being honest, it’s unlike any I’ve ever seen. Pensive, definitely. Hopeful too?
