by Marie James
Just the mention of his name makes my arms cover in gooseflesh, but I blame the cool breeze floating around us.
It’s done. Over. She’s not worth it.
There was resignation in his voice when he spit those words at me.
“Poor Jared,” I mutter after a long moment.
“Do you like him?” Delilah asks, and I can tell she’s trying to be diplomatic. She’s the kind of woman who thinks people should make their own choices rather than friends and family trying to exert their opinions on matters that don’t directly affect them.
“I don’t even know him,” I answer honestly. “He wasn’t drinking. He didn’t get aggressive or kiss me without permission. He didn’t make a move until I gave him a clue that I might be interested.”
“And that’s different from how Griffin has acted?”
Of course, she would deduce that all of this has to do with Griffin.
I release a huff of air before I recall that I haven’t been as open with her about what has happened since we returned to New Mexico.
“I know about the drinking,” she prods. “Lawson told me what Cannon told him.”
“Guys gossip more than women do.” I chuckle lightly even though I don’t find anything about tonight or the way Griffin has been acting funny at all.
“He’s torturing himself about what he had to do at war. It’s eating him alive, so he drowns his problems with booze.”
“Has he hurt you?” I shake my head, but my reaction is stilted. “Ivy, you’re my best friend. Please talk to me. Don’t leave me in the dark on this.”
I stay silent, but she’s not going to give up.
“I’m not asking you to spill his secrets, but it’s clear you have some things to work through.”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“The beginning is always good.”
A weak smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I worry my hands in my lap.
“He was angry at me when I first found him in Jake’s. Well, maybe not me specifically. I think he’s angry at the world. He kissed me that first day.”
I inwardly wish that things were different, that I could reflect back on that long-awaited kiss as a good thing, but his filthy mouth and unemotional aggression will taint it forever.
“H-he wanted to go further. Wanted me to go inside and h-have sex with him.”
“Oh, God. Please tell me you didn’t?”
“You’re supposed to be the supportive one.” I roll my eyes. “I did not sleep with him. Not that time or the next time he wanted me to, or even the time after that. I know I’ve dodged a bullet, but he’s so broken.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s yours to fix,” she whispers, and the truth of that slams into me like a runaway train.
“I know.” My words are soft even though I’m raging inside.
“I’m not trying to give you mixed signals, but that man was a lunatic over you tonight. You said he wasn’t drunk, but sober men don’t act like that unless there’s something there.” She grabs my hands and separates them so I can’t keep toying with my peeling cuticles. “His eyes don’t skate past you anymore. I think he’s finally noticed you, and he likes what he sees.”
“That may be the case, but he’s made it very clear that he’s only interested in a physical relationship. He may not even want that after what happened tonight.”
“Do you plan to date Jared?”
My brows furrow because the questions come out from left field. “No. Why would you ask that?”
“Sometimes, competition makes a man realize what he’s missing.”
“I don’t think that’s great advice.” I shake my head. “I’m not trying to manipulate him. If he doesn’t want me—”
“Oh, he wants you,” she interrupts.
“If he doesn’t want me for more than a play toy,” I amend, “then I’m not interested.”
“What if he needs your help?”
“Then I’ll offer him all of the friendship he can handle.”
“Even better,” she says with a sly smile on her face. “The friend-zone is even more frustrating to men than having to beat competition off.”
“We need to get back to the clubhouse,” Jameson says as he walks across the grass toward the picnic table. “Gigi misses the baby.”
“Okay,” I agree, climbing off the top of the picnic table and wiping my hands over the back of my skirt.
“Any word?” Delilah asks Lawson as he walks up and clasps her hand in his.
“They haven’t found him yet.”
Delilah’s advice rumbles around in my head the entire ride back to the clubhouse. The only wrinkle is whether or not Griffin even wants to be my friend. I hope he does because I don’t have a Plan B.
Chapter 23
Griffin
His lips on hers.
His hands on her skin.
Each step I take away from Jake’s the angrier I get. I have half a mind to turn back around and pummel that piece of shit until the coroner can’t identify his body. I don’t care about going to jail or the blood coating my hands.
The only thing that concerns me is why she has pushed me away numerous times if she was just going to mess around with someone else. All of this bullshit about needing more than I can give her.
Fucking lies.
I’m arrowing toward the other bar in town since the liquor stores are closed down for the night. Beer just isn’t going to cut it. Cars pass by, thankfully none of them stopping. I tuck into the shadows when a motorcycle turns down the street. The last thing I want is to be found. When it drives past without slowing, I resume my trek for relief.
My head is so fucked up, and even though I’m aware enough to know that Ivy doesn’t answer to me, it doesn’t ease the burn raging through my gut from her picking Jared fucking Franklin over me.
Like a halo of neon lights, the sign above The River Run Tavern calls to me from two blocks away. My mouth waters with anticipation, and my feet move me along a little faster.
“Do you seriously think this is the right path to take?”
My hand freezes before it even makes contact with the door handle.
“You need to go home,” I mutter without even turning around to face my brother.
“I’m not leaving without you.”
“I need to get drunk,” I counter and grab the handle of the door. “Feel free to stick around.”
“You can’t come home drunk. You know the rules.”
“I don’t plan on going home.” Even though I’m in Farmington, home was never my intent. I just knew I couldn’t be across the country. At least here I have an edge.
“You have nowhere else to go. Do you really want to make Mom worry more than you already have?”
That’s a low fucking blow. Our mom is an amazing woman, and staying away since I got home was so I didn’t hurt her more.
”I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.” The truth of my words echo in my head and settle in my stomach, but at the same time easing everyone else’s pain does nothing to alleviate my own.
“Then let’s go home.” Cannon pulls my hand free from the door handle, but honestly, I wasn’t holding on to it very tight. Stupidly, I hope going back to my childhood home will make things better because what I’ve been doing hasn’t worked so far.
Home meant Ivy was near, and no matter how pissed at her I am, I can’t ignore the draw. She makes everything better, soothes me down to my soul.
Cannon doesn’t crowd me as we walk across the parking lot, but I can tell he’s guarded either waiting for me to bolt or rear back and punch him in the nose. I consider the former when I notice the girl from the bar in the front seat of his SUV. The last thing I need is an audience for my shit-show of a life.
“This is Melissa,” Cannon says as we climb inside. “Ivy’s friend from school.”
I give her a quick nod, not expecting much in return, but the girl swivels in her seat and stares me down like she hates me. Ignoring her, I
keep my eyes out the window, counting down the minutes until I can be alone in my bedroom back at my parents’ house.
“Why are we going in this direction?” I ask when it looks like we’re headed toward Browning Parkway.
“We have to go get your stuff from Jared’s.”
I grunt but don’t argue. Literally, everything I own is in the cottage, and as pissed as I am at Jared for putting his hands and mouth on Ivy, I need my shit.
“Stay in the car,” Cannon commands when we pull up. “Jared doesn’t want you tearing shit up inside.”
I snort a humorless laugh, having no desire to tear anything up but his damn face.
“What?” I ask when he opens the back door and holds his hand out.
“Can’t get inside without the key.”
I slide the piece of metal into his hand, feeling like a child in trouble by his parents. I fucking hate it. I hate everything about tonight.
“You need to get your shit together or stay away from her.”
My eyebrows hit the roof of the car when Ivy’s friend speaks. Who the hell does she think she is?
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Griffin Griggs.” The sneer on her face is even more defined now that my brother isn’t in the vehicle to monitor her. “Either be with her or leave her the hell alone.”
My mouth opens and closes, but no sounds come out.
“What has she told you?” I finally manage.
“What we discuss is none of your damn business,” she snaps back.
“If you’re discussing me, I’d say it is my business.” Just the possibility that Ivy talks about me with her friend gives me hope.
“You don’t get to pull the shit that happened tonight. You don’t get to act mad if she moves on when you won’t pick her.”
“Pick her? What the fuck are you talking about? She wants more than I can give right now.”
“Right now?” It’s Melissa’s turn to huff. “So what? She’s supposed to be sitting at home waiting for you to decide if she’s worthy enough of more than just a roll in your borrowed sheets?”
I’m thankful for the center console because this chick is so fired up, I’m afraid she may try to climb over the seat.
“This has nothing to do with her worth,” I seethe. “I’m not worthy of her. She deserves better.”
I hit my fist against my chest for emphasis, and each strike feels like a death blow. Even as many times as I‘ve thought that very thing, I’ve never said the words out loud.
Six months ago, before Syria, I could hold my head up high. I was a fucking catch. I was a man her parents would welcome with open arms. A man her mom would be thrilled to plan a wedding for her daughter.
I’m no longer that man. That man died in the sand with those children and their innocent parents. That man has no business attempting happiness with an amazing woman like Ivy.
“She seems to think differently.” Melissa’s tone has transitioned from anger to sympathy, and it isn’t until wetness drips onto my forearm that I realize I’m crying.
I don’t even bother to dash the tears away with my hand. I’m too broken to even care at this point.
The SUV shakes, the rear hatch opening up, and I suddenly feel like a fool crying in front of a woman I don’t even know. Marines don’t cry. They bottle that shit and use it on the battlefield.
“Just the one bag?” my brother asks from the back.
“Yeah,” I grunt, my eyes still not pulling from Melissa’s.
The hatch closes, and Cannon walks around to the driver’s seat.
“Don’t hurt her,” Melissa begs just before Cannon opens the door and slides inside.
I can’t answer her, or make a promise I’m terrified I won’t be able to keep. I don’t deserve Ivy. She does deserve better, but at the same time, she’s the only one who calms the demons in my head, and I’m selfish. I’m the biggest asshole that walks the earth because I know that I’ll cling to her with everything I have simply to get a little peace.
“We’re here.” I jolt at the sound of my brother’s voice, and inwardly chastise myself for dozing off around other people. What would my brother or Ivy’s friend think if I woke up terrorized and thinking someone was trying to kill me? I bet Melissa wouldn’t be begging me to protect Ivy’s heart. She’d be too concerned trying to keep me away from her.
I climb out of the SUV, heading to the back to grab my bag, but the front of the clubhouse stops me in my tracks. This place has always been home, the place I felt the safest, but now that I’m back on the property, my muscles tense. I no longer belong here. If they knew what I’ve done, I wouldn’t even be welcome. I’d be shown the door with the expectation of never coming back.
“Get out of your head, man.” Cannon claps his hand on my back and shoves the strap to my bag in my own fist. “Mom waited up for you.”
“She shouldn’t have,” I grumble as we walk around the clubhouse to one of the two-story homes in the back.
“Yeah, well, you can’t tell her that.” Cannon pauses, and like a coward, I stop too, needing him as a buffer when I walk into the house after being gone so long. I give him as much privacy as I can while he says goodnight to his girl. “Meet me in like twenty minutes?”
I don’t hear her answer but instead hear a breathy moan as her agreement. I don’t bother looking. I’m too busy wondering when I became jealous of my brother and his easy life. He can have any girl he wants, and I’m certain the man isn’t going through any dry spells.
“She seems nice,” I say with humor in my voice as we watch her walk toward Ivy’s house. I’ll never discuss the conversation I had with the girl in the car. I should hate her for getting in my business, but I’m grateful Ivy has someone like her in her corner.
“She’s pretty amazing, but she’s leaving on Monday. Have to get it while I can.” He bumps my shoulder like we’re just two friends gabbing about chicks.
“Nothing serious?”
“Dude?” My brother stops, holding onto my arm so I can’t walk past him. “I’ve known her for a week. Just a little fun.”
“So you’re using her?”
He snorts. “More like the other way around. Come on. Quit stalling.”
I keep my eyes straight ahead as we enter my parents’ house. Looking over at Ivy’s house again won’t help.
“Son,” my dad says as a greeting when I walk inside.
His lips are turned down, no doubt having already heard what happened at Jake’s. I wouldn’t be surprised if old man Jake hasn’t already issued a criminal trespass so I can’t ever step on the property again. Dad grabs my bag just in time for my mom to step forward and wrap her arms around me. She’s much shorter, her head barely reaching my shoulder, but I hold her against my chest until my throat burns.
“Just need to get some sleep,” I mumble when she steps back. I choose to ignore the tears pooling in her eyes.
“Of course, dear. We can catch up in the morning.”
That’s enough of a warning for me to consider crawling out of my bedroom window and disappearing into the night.
Chapter 24
Ivy
“Get up,” Melissa insists for the third time as she jostles my shoulder. “It’s Saturday.”
“Every day is Saturday for you,” I grumble. “Let me sleep.”
“Griffin came home with us last night.” Her mouth is so close to my head, I feel the heat of her breath and smell her minty toothpaste. I jolt under her hands. “I knew that would get your attention.”
“Yesterday, you told me to move on.” I shove her off me so I can lie flat on my back.
“We chatted last night, and let’s just say I know now why you have a thing for him.”
My hackles go up. I don’t think Melissa would try anything with him, but I refuse to remain ignorant to the possibility. She doesn’t value relationships the same as other people. I just hope her girl-code is strong enough not to betray me.
“What did you do?” There’s
no way to disguise the anger in my voice.
“Calm down.” She climbs off the bed and begins digging through my dresser. “Where’s that turquoise bikini you wore last summer.”
“Back at the apartment. I can’t wear things like that here.” Heck, I didn’t even want to wear it last year, but Melissa talked me into it. “Tell me what happened last night.”
“We talked.” I narrow my eyes at her when she turns back in my direction. “He’s so sad, like a lost little puppy. I just wanted to cuddle him and tell him everything is going to be okay.”
“Was he drunk when you guys found him?”
“Nope.” She holds out my black bathing suit. “We found him heading into another bar, but I don’t think he’d been drinking. Get up. We can talk more about it down by the pool.”
“I don’t feel li—”
“Hush,” she interrupts. “Be downstairs in five minutes, or I’ll come back and drag you out. I only have two more days to visit with you before I have to go back home.”
“Make it ten, and you have a deal,” I concede, knowing I need to spend more time with her. Keeping busy and trying not to think about Griffin was my game plan anyway. How I’m going to do that knowing Griffin is here on the property is beyond me.
It actually takes me fifteen minutes to get down to the pool, but from the looks of Melissa and the way she’s wrapped around Cannon in the deep end, my friend had no real intentions of dragging me down here.
“Nope,” my friend hollers just as I’m about to settle on a sun lounger. “In the pool. Not beside the pool.”
“Delilah and Lawson aren’t in the pool.” I point toward my friend and her man like a petulant child.
“We were just getting ready to head in,” Delilah says. Lawson stands, but from the look on his face, I can see he didn’t have any plans to get in the pool.
I grunt and grumble as I throw off my cover-up and head toward the stairs leading into the pool. The splash from Lawson and Delilah as they jump in hits me on the legs. I freeze, a shiver working over my body from the cold water.
“How is it so cold?” I hiss. It’s hot all day every day. It should feel like climbing into a warm bath, not getting thrown into a freezing ocean.
