“I’m eager to get it over with. Your sister Eastlyn is going to castrate me, too. If our meeting at Weller’s the other day proved anything, it was that East is not my biggest fan,” Coy chuckles, like a giddy school girl. “You should have seen her tripping all over herself and knocking shit over when I bumped into her at the store. She couldn’t get out of there fast enough! It was brilliant, she’s so fucking perfect. She’s going to hate me even more than she already claims to and I’m going to love every minute of it.”
“She’s not going to make it easy on you,” I remind him.
“I’m banking on it,” he winks.
“You’re a glutton for punishment, Graves.”
The guy’s been in love with Eastlyn since they first met, but was either too stupid to realize it or too dumb to admit it, even to himself. I’m not sure what shifted in his universe to allow him to finally acknowledge that he loves her, but I’m happy for him.
I’m not entirely convinced this is the best way to win her over, however.
“Don’t I know it,” he laughs. “I’m banking on your sister not going off on me in front of the other teachers. She can’t really yell at the new boss now, can she?” he grins. There’s a satisfied look on his face, as if he actually believes he’ll make it out unscathed.
“I bet Eastlyn up and leaves,” I say, taking a sip of my beer smiling at the thought of my sister stomping away like a child, arms crossed, like I’ve seen her do so many times when we were kids.
“Nah, ten bucks says East threatens to tell your mom on you. That would be much more effective. Katie will never bake you another cake.”
“Shit. How am I gonna keep lying to my mom at Sunday brunch?” It hadn’t really occurred to me how hard it might be to keep this from my mom. She loves McCoy like her own and will surely also kick my ass for keeping this news from her. Especially since she won’t have the opportunity to arm herself with one of her themed celebratory cakes to welcome him home, because I haven’t given her heads up. I’m toast.
“You’ll think of a way to keep a lid on it.”
“Gee, thanks. Always so helpful.”
McCoy just smiles and nods.
I chuckle uncomfortably. “Shit.” I say again. “I didn’t think this through at all. Eastlyn can’t tell my mom.” I take a long sip of beer. “We’re both gonna be up shit’s creek. It’s unavoidable. I’m considering throwing you under the bus to save myself.”
“Nah-uh, your mom loves me. I think she’ll be too happy for consequences.”
“True for you, maybe. I suppose she’ll be too busy updating her McCoy and Eastlyn wedding planning scrapbook to punish you,” I tease, only half kidding. My mother has a serious obsession with McCoy and Eastlyn ending up married, and a crazy-assed delusion that Kam and I will be the ones to give her grandbabies. Again, the woman is all kinds of extra.
“Fuck, probably. Katie Hatfield has never been one for subtlety.” We both lift our beers to my mom, clink, then drink.
“It’s definitely going to be a challenge,” I say, just as Tom appears, placing our burgers in front of us. I order another beer while Coy opts for a water. He still has to drive back to Brockville later.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says. “I’m always up for a good chase. Besides, have you seen the prize?”
“Easy. Still my sister, so yuck.”
“Fair enough. But I’m ready to win her over. Planning to bring my A game. Despite what she thinks, I can be all kinds of charming when I want something. Game on.” He pauses, and I look up from dumping a shitload of ketchup onto my fries. “As long as you’re still cool with the idea of her and I together, that is?”
“Of course. Treat her right and we’re aces,” I say, and mean it.
Thoughts of Kami being happy about Eastlyn and McCoy finally getting together pop into my mind (once she gets over being angry on behalf of my sister first, though). Kami and I have spent so many nights talking about how great they would be as a couple. Funny enough, many of those nights also left me thinking how good Kami and I might be as one, too. I think of all the things a girl like Kami deserves. What would it be like if I were the guy who could give them to her? What it would be like if we were together, too? Damn, I could easily get lost thinking about how great we might be. Although I’d never admit it to anyone—not even Coy.
She’s gonna fry my balls when she finds out I was in on this. I can’t wait.
“Good.” McCoy raps his knuckles on the oak table top. “So, when are you going to go after your girl?” he asks, reaching for the malt vinegar, a satisfied look on his face.
“Not quite sure I’m picking up what you’re putting down there, brother,” I say. I shove a bunch of warm golden fries into my mouth.
“Whatever, dude. I am more than positive you don’t need me to spell it out, but occupational hazard aside, I’ll do it anyway. You. Kami.” He overpronounces both words.
“What about, Kam?” I say, playing stupid. I know where this is going, where it always goes.
He rolls his eyes at me. “Such a tool.”
“Takes one to kn—”
He cuts me off. “Keat. Enough bullshit. It’s time to get that ugly mug of yours out of your ass. Time to see what’s in front of you, man. Don’t be like me. Don’t waste any more time.” He shakes his head. It’s not too often my best friend openly shows emotion. I can tell this thing with my sister has been weighing on him, and honestly, I hope Eastlyn doesn’t take too long to get her head out of her own ass once McCoy starts his official pursuit. Must be a Hatfield trait—head-to-ass syndrome.
I never did tell McCoy about that night with Eastlyn in the hallway outside her room all those years ago, the night she warned me to stay away from Kami. Instead, I always deflect him and deny my feelings. I know he’d be the first one to argue how wrong my sister is and advocate for me to fight for the girl we both know I’ve secretly wanted for years. Besides, from what I remember, Coy was dealing with some crap of his own that night, once he eventually resurfaced outside after being MIA for a while mid-party.
“A girl like Kam won’t wait around forever for your dumb-ass brain to catch the fuck up,” he says, snapping my attention back to him. “There, is that spelled out enough for you, Pumpkin?” he asks, puffing out his chest, a satisfied smile pulling up the corners of his mouth before he stuffs it full of burger.
“Classy,” I say. A glob of mayo and a few sesame seeds fall from his big yap and splat with perfect timing onto his fancy-ass steel-grey tie, giving me an out. “Looks like it might take more than just a nice suit, to keep ’em fooled over at the school.” I bark out a laugh and toss him a napkin. “Regardless, we weren’t talking about Kami and me. The focus is on you and my sister, right?”
McCoy raises his hands in surrender. “If you say so. Simply trying to look out for you.”
“I appreciate it, but I’m good. Now, what were we talking about before you went all askew?”
Coy swallows a mouthful of food before answering, “We were about to discuss the notion of pussyfooting.”
I’m confused. “Thought we’d covered that already? Solved that issue.”
He juts his chin in my direction. “Not my issue, though. Yours.”
“Seriously?”
“Come on, Keat.”
“‘Keat’, nothing. There isn’t a fucking issue. Kam and I are friends. Good ones, best ones. Leave it at that.”
“So…what? We all get to continue watching the two of you ‘pussyfoot’ around your feelings for each other for ever and ever?” the bastard says, air quoting. “Mature.”
“Listen.” I growl, “don’t go looking for something that’s not there. We’re friends. Drop it.”
“Okay, okay. Relax, Pumpkin, just trying to help. Put the Vein of Anger away. Doesn’t that thing hurt your forehead? Can you feel it throbbing right now?” he asks, unable to keep a straight face.
“Piss off. Know what? I changed my mind,” I say, exasperated. “You
’re a pain in my ass. Stay the hell away from my sister, Graves,” I start, only making him howl with laughter.
“Too fucking late,” he says. “I’m here to take what’s mine.”
“No way,” I shake my head, “not even my sister deserves an asshole like you. I hope she makes your life hell.” I toss the last bite of my burger into my mouth, a satisfied grin on my face.
“You about done?” my dick-face of a former best friend laughs, while signalling to Tom to bring him another beer, muttering “I’m going to need to take up drinking if this is what I’m in for. Guess I’m leaving much later tonight.” He shakes his head, exasperated, and I chuckle. He raises his water glass and takes the last sip. “To life with the fucking Hatfields.”
“Best way to live.” I hold up my half-full beer and clink it against his now empty glass. “Welcome home, Pumpkin!” I mock, before taking a sip.
13
She Really Is Something
Keaton
McCoy Graves is an asshole.
I can’t stop replaying his words from when we had lunch yesterday over and over in my head: “Keat. Enough bullshit. It’s time to get that ugly mug of yours out of your ass. Time to see what’s in front of you, man. Don’t be like me. Don’t waste any more time.”
It’s Wednesday night and our weekly get-together at Brass Tapps, where a few of us meet for dinner, drinks, and PubStumpers trivia. I got here early—which normally isn’t the case—but I’m feeling antsy to see Kam. Our usual texts back and forth weren’t enough this week, and I’m jonesing to have her near me. I take a long sip of my beer.
I hear them before I see them. Craning my neck, I try to look as inconspicuous as possible. But I want to get that first glance of Kami as she walks into Brass Tapps. I have to be as discreet as possible, because I have no doubt my kind sister will call me out on my gawking no matter who’s around, if she catches me. Eastlyn has become rather fond of pointing out how Kam and I need to “bone and get it over with” more and more often, another thing that’s fucking with my head, because it makes me wonder: what changed? Does Eastlyn see me as fit enough for her best friend all of a sudden? What’s more, as I wrestle with these feelings and thoughts, I keep asking, do I even care what Eastlyn thinks anymore? Should I ever have?
“I see him!” I hear Kami shout from the doorway, and my eyes are suddenly glued. I can’t take my eyes off her as she, Eastlyn, and their coworker and friend, Marcy, make their way past the bar and through the restaurant to where I’m sitting, at one of the tables in the back where the trivia happens. Kami’s hazel eyes light up when they land on me, as she makes her way closer to where I want her most, next to me.
Jesus, she really is something. I’ve done a shit job of processing all these revelations I’m having about my feelings for Kami. And McCoy’s warning, which keeps running through my head on repeat, is doing shit to help me quash them, too. I’m not sure how much longer I can do this. Or how much longer I want to. I can’t keep pretending there isn’t a possibility for more between us.
“Hey, Keat.” Kam plops her fine ass down in the chair beside me. My sister and Marcy wave as they beeline it to the ladies’ room, leaving Kami and me alone.
“Hey,” I greet her, my eyes not missing how good she looks, her blonde hair, left wavy tonight, the smattering of freckles across her nose that I love on full display. There’s light makeup around her whiskey-coloured eyes which makes them seem so much more vibrant. Kami’s wearing a pink scoop neck top, and I have to fight my eyes from dropping down to her chest, as well as a pair of jean shorts that drew my attention to her toned runners’ legs as she walked toward me.
We’re quiet at first, feeling one another out. There’s a new kind of tension between us. An awkwardness. It seems our relationship is evolving whether we want it to or not. The tension is palpable. Has it always been there, and I just didn’t want to see it the way I do now?
Kami shifts in her seat, the move wafting her scent my way. She smells incredible, a blend of cinnamon and pumpkin pie. Fucking sweet and edible. Her bare thigh brushes mine, and I’m reminded why I love the warm weather, tank tops and shorts. I want to hide my hand under the table and run it along her thigh to finally test my theory: is her skin as soft as it’s looked all these years? Damn. I need a distraction before I do something I could regret, do something I’m not sure we could recover from. Unless Kami wants this, too. I need to talk to my sister once and for all. I need to lay my feelings out for Kam, too. I’m not going to be able to keep this pretence up and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back.
“Good day?” she asks, her eyes roaming my face, checking me out and taking me in, easily distracting me from my thoughts.
“Yeah, busy. Did a cool back piece, a huge black megalodon surfacing up out of the water,” I share, my eyes giving her face the same treatment.
“Can’t wait to see it.” Her eyes light up as I describe the huge shark. She leans in closer to see the pics when I pull out my phone. We sit in our own bubble, her gushing and singing my praises, and me savouring her proximity as well as her attention.
How the hell am I going to survive when she leaves in a few days for Prince Edward Island for the month? I’m not sure. All I know is I have to figure it out before I let these emotions I have going on mess up the good thing Kam and I have: our friendship. Maybe her being in another province for a few weeks will fix these strange thoughts and feelings I’m having about starting to cross the line we created a million years ago.
“You’re so damn talented, Keat,” she says, and I want to immediately respond and tell her how she’s so damn beautiful. I rein it in. Instead, I thank her and show her a few more sketches I’ve made for upcoming clients this week.
She lets out a shaky breath. “I don’t get why you won’t give me my tattoo, Keat. It’s not fair.” We’re sitting side by side, staring down, our heads connected, both of our hands holding my phone.
I’m about to answer—knowing it will likely piss her off—when my sister and Marcy speak up, letting us know they’re back and breaking our moment.
“You two are so grossly cute,” Eastlyn says, sitting across from us, and I’m wondering how long they’ve been there when I catch Marcy’s beaming smile. I almost thank my sister for her perfect timing, because I’m pretty sure she just saved Kam and I from having yet another argument over her tattoo. The tattoo I plan to give her, but only when the time is right. “You two need to bang and get it over with, give in to whatever this cuteness overload thing is.” Eastlyn waves her hands flippantly between us. Kami and I respond like we always do when East gets like this.
“We’re friends!” we say, practically in unison, putting the distance back in between us.
“Whatever, it’s all lies,” Eastlyn says, dismissing us. Which is funny, because isn’t she the reason I’ve held off?
I’m grateful when Marcy shifts the conversation. “Wednesday took forever to get here—I need summer break, now! I’m not sure I can make it ’til next week. I’m about to blow, guys. Stan is being a dick-and-a-half about child support again.”
“What’s the asshat doing now? Tell me he’s paid…” my sister says to her recently-divorced friend.
While we listen to Marcy talk, Kami leans towards me and whispers, “That for me?” She nods at the pint of beer in its frosted glass sitting in front of her. I laugh. She finally noticed the drink that’s been there since before she sat down.
“Yep. It was there about twenty seconds before you got here,” I whisper back, and it gives me a sense of satisfaction knowing she was too distracted talking with me to even notice it.
“Friends, my ass!” Eastlyn shouts. I realize Marcy is done talking, so they’ve been watching Kami and me again. “See what I have to deal with?” She points between Kam and me, making me laugh.
“What?” I ask innocently, gesturing for Marcy to look down at the table.
“Oh, Keaton Hatfield! You are the best. Thanks!” Marcy says, her hands f
lying up at the sight of the very full glass of red wine in front of her. The one Sandy had dropped off along with Kam’s a while ago. “I need this way too much…” Marcy says, and I raise my glass in cheers. She takes a long sip of her wine. “I must say, I do tend to agree with East. You two do always look so damn hot sitting together. I think you should consider the possibility of dating.”
Marcy’s comment causes Kami to roll her eyes, and a small yelp escapes Marcy’s mouth. I feel the table jerking under us, and I know Kam’s given her a little kick in retaliation for her comments. I catch Marcy mouthing a quiet, “Sorry,” at Kam when she thinks I’m not looking.
“Whose side are you on, anyway?” Kam asks. “Thought you said love sucks, remember?”
Marcy snorts, then quickly drinks her wine.
Tucking a hand under the table, I give Kami’s thigh a gentle squeeze in solidarity. I know my sister’s teasing wears on her. Eastlyn can be a real pain in the ass sometimes. I can only imagine what she says to Kam about me. Lord knows the shit I get. After a few beats, Kam gives me a sweet smile, and I reluctantly remove my hand. I immediately feel remiss, wanting desperately, suddenly, to have the right to keep it there, to keep Kami’s soft skin under my gentle touch.
“Hey, where’s my wine? Didn’t you get me a drink?” Eastlyn asks, waving her hands through the missing glass of red in front of her. She makes a show of looking around the table and under the menus before narrowing her eyes at me.
I shrug. “Sorry, East, I wasn’t sure what you would want,” I lie. East always starts off with a glass of J. Lohr’s Seven Oaks. I just wanted to piss her off a little, to keep her on her toes, like only a big brother can.
She lets out what I know is a calming breath. “No problem, I know remembering is hard work.” She flashes me a toothy smile. “Let’s clarify the roles here, quickly.” She jerks her thumb in Marcy’s direction, where she’s clearly stressed enough to be slurping from the glass I did have waiting. “Marcy: friend,” then points back at herself, “Eastlyn: sister.” She brushes her shirt with her hand, then repeats, “Sis-ter. Understand?” she asks, cocking her head to one side expectantly.
First Love (Winning at Love Book 2) Page 9
