Star-Crossed Secrets

by Kali Brixton

  Ten more steps.

  Nine more.

  Numbness is your friend.

  Hold it together.

  I near the door of the vehicle when the only voice in the world I don’t want or need to hear right now calls out my name. “Ev!” Quick footsteps tell me he’s close—way too close.

  Pick up the pace and get the fucking lead out!

  Almost there.

  Aaron rolls his window down, assumedly from seeing me in the side-view mirror, and hollers, “Everleigh Greene, get that sweet ass in here! It’s fucking cold.”

  I reach for the door, only to have a warm hand wrap around my upper arm, holding me back. Turning toward him, ready to punch his lights out, I’m greeted with a stern face. Only instead of looking at me, he’s glaring into the passenger side window. “Ev, you forgot your coat.”

  Snatching my coat out of his hands, I reach for the door once more, except his hand is quicker. He pulls the door handle and steps back to the side, pulling the door with him. “Let me get that for you.”

  I don’t argue, I just hop in the seat and stare straight ahead, my foul mood unable to hide anymore.

  He bends down to where he can lock eyes with Aaron, whose eyes are as big as saucers right now, through the open window space. “Like a fucking gentleman should for his date,” his angry tone seeping through his words.

  What the fuck does he have to be pissed about? I yank the door from his grasp and close it, never sparing him a glance. “Your fiancée’s waiting for you, Luca.”

  When he doesn’t move, I use my finger to make him disappear. The dark window slowly rises to the top of the door until there’s a barrier between us. “Drive.”

  Aaron’s mouth is still slightly ajar. “What in the…?”

  “Just drive.” I can’t even bring myself to enjoy the purr of the Hellcat engine because my emotions are revved up and roaring loudly, with no way to release the rage. We drive in silence to the restaurant where we have reservations for our “date,” AKA the only way I could get the girls off my back about setting up a dating app profile.

  I swore to them for months that I would go on a date eventually, but when I came into the office two weeks ago and saw several dating sites tabs pulled up on the RISE office computer, I knew I had to do something. My friend Aaron from UGA, with who I had several classes, still lives in Atlanta. It had been a long time since we had caught up in person, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone. All the girls knew about this “date” was it was a guy I met at UGA my junior year and we had reconnected on social media. Oh, and that his name was Steve.

  As much as I love my girls and appreciate them wanting to see me happy, the thought of dating anyone again turns my stomach. Scratch that. The thought of falling in love again makes me sick. What Luca and I did was more friends with benefits, not dating. Dating actually involves you being proud to call someone yours, which he emphatically showed me he wasn’t willing to do when he left me for Italy and because he was intent on marrying whoever the fuck his dad decided.

  Fine. I get it. He had his reasons, his obligations. But why did he have to cheapen what we had together? That I was only a piece of untapped ass to him. I let my years-long crush on him stand in the way of common sense and reason, clouding my good judgment with dreams of what could be instead of what was.

  Never again.

  “So…” Aaron breaks the silence, which has apparently stretched for a mile or so because we’re now far and safely away from the reception hall. “We gonna talk about what happened back there?”

  I exhale harshly, still staring out the front windshield. “Nothing to talk about.”

  He taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “You sure about that because those looks tell another story.”

  “What looks?”

  “Oh, you mean the look that told me he wanted to rip your clothes off?” he laughs. “Or the look that said he planned on ripping my arms off and beating me with them. Possibly while fucking you on top of my now armless body?”

  His amusement does nothing to improve my mood. “Yeah, you read those looks wrong.”

  “Uh-huh,” he says, his mouth contorting before sniffing the air multiple times. “My God…”

  “What?”

  His expression sours. “Do you smell that?”

  I glance around, sniffing as well. “I don’t smell anything.”

  He sniffs a few more times. “Then, it has to be coming from all the bullshit that just came flyin’ out your mouth.” He slightly rolls down his window, letting in the fresh, winter-bitten air as I glare at him. “Whew! That’s better.”

  “I hope your nipples get frostbitten,” I deadpan.

  “Hey! I happen to like my nipples,” he sasses back, rolling the window up again. “So, do I need to move? Change my phone number? Make peace with my maker?”

  I swat his arm, his grin annoying and endearing all at the same time. “That won’t be a problem. He’s engaged.” And the dagger buries itself a little deeper.

  He’s quiet for a moment. “Does he know that?”

  “Yeah. He does.” And now I know who will take his name.

  “Hey,” he says, his voice soft and comforting. “If you’re not up for going out tonight, it’s okay.”

  My head shakes in disagreement. “We hardly ever get to see each other.” Then reality settles in. “Although, I’m not sure how great of a dinner date I’ll be.”

  He glances back at traffic, then flips on his turn signal and changes lanes.

  “Hey! The exit’s just up here.”

  “We’re going back to your apartment. I’ve got a better plan.” He waggles his dark blond brows.

  “I thought you didn’t swing that way anymore?” I muse.

  He chuckles. “Not gonna lie, I do like the meat a little better than the pita pocket.” A devilish grin spreads over his handsome face. “But, if you all can squash your beef with each other, I wouldn’t mind if you two wanted to make an Aaron sandwich.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” I laugh tenderly, loving how good it feels to be around a guy who always wants to bring joy into my life, not heartache or headache.

  Aaron openly embraced his bisexuality last year but hadn’t found anyone yet that he wanted to lock down seriously. Until then, he was content with playing the field a bit. “But I made you laugh, didn’t I?”

  “Mission accomplished,” I say, putting my hand into his open gloved one. “So, why are we really going back to my apartment?”

  He spares a glance at my attire. “We need to get you dressed properly.”

  I eye my lavender dress from the party, a dress I had picked out to double as “first-date” attire. “What’s wrong with this?”

  “That is for a nice steak dinner at Legend’s. We need to get you into something you don’t mind getting a little dirty.”

  My brow quirks at him. “How dirty are we talking here?”

  I stand in my closet, trying to figure out what to wear to a body paint rave. After giving Aaron a quick rundown of what went on between Luca and me in the past, as well as why I was fit to be tied when I got in his vehicle, he proposed an evening of fun and drinks. Drinking and I do not mix well because according to anyone I’ve ever been around when I’ve gotten drunk, I get very chatty.

  Truth serum. Every last drop of it.

  “Aaron, can you grab my pair of earrings off the nightstand?” I yell from the closet. “They might be in the first drawer.” The simple pair of studs will go well with the black shirt and jeans I just decided on. Hmm. I wonder where my old jacket went. I don’t want to stain any of my new ones.

  I rummage around a bit more before Aaron’s inquisitive voice reaches me. “Ev?”

  “Yeah?” I probably moved the earrings since I last wore them and forgot.

  “Is there a reason your nightstand drawer looks like a college frat boy’s?”

  I walk out of the closet and see Aaron standing there, looking into the half-open top drawer with curious
eyes. Striding across my bedroom, I see exactly what he was talking about.

  What the hell?

  Condoms. Condoms for days—and apparently for every size and color-slash-flavor preference imaginable.

  “Do you have some sort of condom fairy that visits from time to time or was this its way of saying it hopes you can’t walk for the next two weeks?” He opens the drawer more and belly laughs, pulling out a comically large neon orange dildo that was definitely not there when I left earlier for the baptism. “Or at all from here on out?”

  I groan, so embarrassed. “I’m going to kill them all.”

  “Who?”

  “My ex-best friends.” Who have probably been plotting this since I told them about my non-date. He continues laughing as I stand there plotting their demises. “Don’t worry, retribution will come.”

  He tosses me the neon orange dildo that was obviously made for someone with elastic orifices or possibly a sex toy death wish because that thing was meant to murder and destroy wherever it ends up lodged.

  I’ll keep my cobwebs and non-aching vagina, thankyouverymuch.

  “At least I know where to come if I ever run out of supplies.” He quips, grabbing a handful of the foil packets.

  I let the dildo thud onto the bed. Great. Now my hands smell like new plastic. Although considering what it is and what it could’ve smelled like, plastic would be the lesser of two evils. Flipping the covers over the eyesore, I pick up the clothes I dropped when he threw the sex traffic cone my way and head for the bathroom to change.

  Yeah, tonight was definitely a good night for dancing and drinking enough to forget my name...along with a couple of others.

  14

  Luca

  For the third time, I check my watch against my phone to see if one or the other is slow. One a.m. Nope. They’re right on target with Ev’s kitchen wall clock and her old school record player combo from the 90s. I’ve been sitting here waiting for her to get back to her apartment since Lia told me she and Landry were calling it a night.

  Thank God Ev’s couch is comfortable.

  She’s probably gonna freak the hell out when she sees me here, but I’ve got to talk to her. I have Kieran’s pieces of information to somehow sort through, then my own. I’ve just got to remember to grab Lia’s key to Ev’s apartment before I take off. Otherwise, she and Lia might figure out I swiped it from her front entry where she keeps a spare set of keys for all the girls’ places. Kieran told me where he keeps his for Ev’s place, but I didn’t want to waste a second getting here.

  When I went back into the reception hall after she slammed the door in my face and drove off with What’s-His-Dick, I bumped into Gia on the way back in. She asked me if Everleigh was okay and I asked why wondering if she saw our brief exchange.

  She said Ev seemed fine until they came out of the bathroom. That’s when she told her she was my fiancée. Gia was worried she might have been sick, but based on our history, I’d say it’s more like shock and disgust, considering who Gia’s family is.

  I asked Lia when I got to their apartment this evening why she hadn’t told Ev about Gia yet. She gave me a blank stare and asked what good would it have done her to know, before calling me a few names and smacking me on the back of the head twice.

  Even though Everleigh’s been ice cold toward me since I returned home, the news of Gia being my fiancée having such an effect on her gives me hope that if my plan works, there might be something for us yet. It’s a big “if”, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

  And I am a desperate man.

  Another twenty minutes pass by before her doorknob finally jiggles. Relief washes over me until l see two people stumbling into the apartment, a figure that’s unmistakably Ev clinging to the other figure who I can only assume is What’s-His-Dick.

  “Ev, shhhh. You’ll wake up the neighbors,” he whisper-yells.

  “You worry too much, s-s-silly boy.”

  I click on the lamplight beside where I’m sitting, startling them both.

  What’s-His-Dick looks alarmed, but Ev just hiccups and giggles. Paint is splashed all across her clothes and on her face and hair. “Lucaaaa! Are you here for the…the party?”

  She’s in rare form right now, which would be more comical if she wasn’t hanging all over him. “I think you’ve partied enough tonight, Ev.”

  What’s-His-Dick leads her toward her bedroom before I get between them and the door. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  He scrunches his eyes, a pissed-off air exudes from him. “I’m helping her get to bed.”

  “The fuck, you are.” I stand there, ready to die on that hill. This jackass is absolutely not taking her to bed. “You got her home safely. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Stumbling back on What’s-His-Dick, she pats his cheeks. “But if you go, you won’t get an Aaron sammich,” she offers, giving him an over-exaggerated wink, which he seems to understand for some odd reason.

  And who the fuck is Aaron? I thought Lia said the guy she went out with tonight was named Steve. “What’s your name?”

  He quirks a brow. “Aaron.”

  I furrow mine. “Where’s Steve?”

  “Who the hell is Steve?”

  Ev cackles. “You’re Steve, silly!”

  Aaron or Steve or whatever other aliases he’s using scrubs his hand down his face. “She’s obviously three sheets to the wind. I’m going to get her tucked in and make sure she doesn’t choke on her own vomit later.”

  My hand goes up in warning. “I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”

  He pauses, narrowing his eyes at me. “Haven’t you done enough to her?”

  Ev fans her face with the bottom of her shirt as I take in his words. I wonder what she’s told him about me—about us.

  “Whew, why is it so hot in here?” She stumbles over to the thermostat, hitting the button until I’m sure she’ll be picking ice cubes from her toes in the morning. Although, the fact that she’s now stripping down in her living room probably means the rest of her is going to be frostbitten too.

  “Shit.” I go over to her, attempting to help keep her shirt on, but she pushes me away and tears it off, throwing it onto the kitchen island. She tries to unbutton her jeans but can’t seem to get the hang of it in her drunken stupor. “Oh, foo.” She pushes her belly out, making it seem bigger than the perfect shape it is, and pats it gingerly. “Guess I shoulda wore muh fat jeans!”

  Whoever the hell this guy is and I stand there, watching her in amazement. “For fuck’s sake, what did she have to drink tonight?”

  He rakes his hands through his short, dirty-blond hair, also bespeckled by multiple colors of paint. “She had three mixed ones, but she rarely drinks, so…”

  Somehow figuring out how to get her jeans off in her drunken stupor, she kicks them toward the couch and holds her hands high. “Freeeeeeeeedooooooooom!” Her bellow would have made William Wallace himself proud, but I’m sure her neighbors are probably cursing her now.

  I unbutton my dress shirt, my tie long gone after having to wait so long on her return. “Did you drive drunk?”

  He shakes his head. “I DD’ed tonight.” His eyes travel to Everleigh, who for some unknown reason, is now doing the running man. Sort of. In nothing but her bra and panties, with all her curvy goody bits hanging out. “Thank God. She’s a handful when she’s drunk.”

  “She’s never been able to hold her liquor,” I add, unbuttoning then pulling my shirt off my body.

  I catch Ev as she stumbles backward on an attempted moonwalk and wrap my shirt around her. “Here,” I direct, trying to get her to push her arms through the sleeves and cover her up, even though the sight of her near-nakedness is doing things to my groin that I don’t need right now.

  After a few attempts, we finally get her into my shirt, which I close at the front and try to button it up, only for her to smack my hands away. “Too hot.”

  Hoisting her up in my arms, hoping she won’t start
throwing up everything she’s had in the last twenty-four hours, I make my way to her bed.

  “Ev,” the blond guy who I still haven’t been able to identify conclusively calls to her as he follows us into the room. “Are you all right with him staying here with you?”

  To his credit, he seems genuinely concerned about her. But I’m still staying, no matter if I have to sleep outside in the hallway or on the couch.

  “It’s okay. He won’t touch me.” She pauses for a brief second, before looking me in the eye as I lay her down. “He has a Gia for that now.”

  My chest tightens at her words. If only she knew… “I’ll be back in here to tuck you in. Don’t try to cabbage patch yourself out the window, okay?”

  “I’ll try not toooo…” Her voice grows dreamy at the end of her words. Dear Lord, she’s going to have a headache from Hades tomorrow.

  I motion for the blond guy to follow me into her living space, leaving the bedroom door open in case she needs something. “I appreciate you bringing her back.”

  He laughs ruefully. “I wouldn’t have suggested drinks if I had known…”

  I nod. “Thank you for seeing her home safely, though.”

  He gives me a warm smile. “She’s a good friend. I’m Aaron, by the way,” he explains, offering his hand.

  “Luca,” I say, returning it.

  “I know,” his answer is tight. “Look, I know you two had…something, and it’s not my place to say, but if you don’t intend on being the right kind of person she needs in her life, you need to cut her loose.” He pauses, looking past my shoulder at the room that holds every piece of my heart. “She deserves the best of everything.”

  Inhaling deeply, I shake my head, wondering if his words are those of a friend or someone who isn’t happy just being a friend.

  “Will you have her call me?”

  I agree as he quietly slips outside into the hallway. Closing the door and running my fingers through my hair, I blow out a puff of air. What a fucking day. I go to her kitchen and plunder around for a few moments to find some necessities before my feet carry me back to Ev’s bedroom.