by Tara Sivec
Friends. The end.
“I am sorry about Hawaii though,” he says quietly, seriously, honestly, and I know I need to move away so I can think straight, but I don’t budge.
We stay inches apart, the golf course bustling around us, but it feels like we’re in a bubble and it’s just us, blocking out the world like we always used to when we were together.
“It’s fine. You were right. He did nothing but waste my time, and it turns out I was a lot more devastated about Hawaii than I was about him cheating on me, and I actually keep forgetting about him and that he cheated on me until someone brings it up.”
Jesus, Birdie, shut up! Why are you telling him all this, and why does he suddenly look so happy?
“Good to know.” Palmer smiles with a slow nod.
He gives my arm a gentle squeeze before dropping his hand, and when I almost lunge at him to climb him like a tree, I know I need to wake the hell up and get out of here, because there’s something about that mischievous smile on his face that makes me nervous.
Thankfully, Palmer starts walking away first, since I guess my damn feet forgot how to work again. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his shorts, that irritating smirk is still on his face as he starts slowly walking backward away from me.
“This is going to be great!” he gushes with a big smile. “Now that I know your social life is nonexistent, we’ll have so much time for activities!”
He’s too far away now to hear my growl, but since the dumbass continued to walk backward, he walked his juicy ass right into Miss Abigail’s open, grabby hands.
Palmer lets out another yelp and jumps a little, his head whipping back to glare at me when I laugh loudly, reach into the cooler, and grab a donut.
“I believe that was literally karma biting you in the ass,” I tell him, taking a big bite out of the donut while adding in a little curtsey. I turn and head into the pro shop to find Tess and call to order an emergency Sip and Bitch.
CHAPTER 10
Palmer
“A wedge between us.”
“You don’t look as traumatized as I thought you would after fighting off a horny rich woman’s advances for the last two hours.” Bodhi laughs as he helps me pick up all the golf balls littered around the putting green and put them in a bucket.
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to sit down for at least a week,” I groan, one of my poor ass cheeks still stinging from the goodbye pinch Miss Abigail gave it a few minutes ago. “That woman has a very strong grip.”
I can’t help but laugh through the pain, knowing Birdie just scored herself another point. She knew exactly what she was doing, scheduling me with Miss Abigail and how I’d spend more time swatting her roving hands away than teaching her how to golf. Miss Abigail also took it upon herself to accompany me on the lesson scheduled after her, bribing the tourist who wanted a few tips on getting out of sand traps by handing him a wad of cash so he could treat his wife to dinner. I had to deal with not one but two hours of ass abuse, where every time I bent over or walked away from Miss Abigail, I started sweating and clenching my cheeks.
Feeling a drop of rain on the top of my hand as I grab a ball by the cup and chuck it into the bucket, I literally thank the heavens above that I won’t have to spend the rest of the day constantly looking over my shoulder as Miss Abigail bribes lesson after lesson that was scheduled for me. An afternoon summer storm has started to roll in, the dark clouds blanketing miles and miles of sky just off the coast. With the sun now hidden and everything looking dim and gray, along with a strong cool breeze that has kicked up, the course has pretty much cleared except for a small handful of die-hards who will continue golfing until the first lightning strike, when one of the starters at SIG will have to drive a cart out to them on whatever hole they’re playing and tell them to get the hell off the course. An empty golf course means an empty clubhouse, which means I can get started on using that time Birdie is giving me to my advantage and head inside to find her before she even thinks of ducking out early to avoid me.
“It’s hard to be traumatized by much of anything when Birdie has agreed to a truce to give me time to come clean with her,” I remind Bodhi, having given him a quick rundown of my last interaction with Birdie as soon as he came out here to help me when he saw the storm coming in. “Time to show her she can still trust me, and time to show her I’m still me and I’m not going to let her down again… before I drop the bomb.”
“And having Backpack Brad out of the picture certainly does help,” Bodhi adds, picking up my putter from the green to point it at me, a slow smile spreading across my face.
That was definitely a bonus I wasn’t expecting. It was bad enough going the last two years knowing he was doing everything with her I should have been doing if I hadn’t been such a pussy. But coming back here with the sole plan of taking another man’s woman away from him wasn’t exactly something that left me feeling good about myself at night, no matter how much of a tool that man is. It’s nice to know I can sleep like a baby on this mission, especially since Birdie let it slip that she’s not at all mourning the loss of Backpack Brad and his hands-free lifestyle.
Grabbing the putter from Bodhi, I walk it over to my bag propped up right off the practice green and slide it in the hole while he tosses the last of the balls in the bucket.
“I can’t believe you actually left Tess to come out here and help me. You sent me a text right when my lesson started with Miss Abigail that said you were in love, moving to the island forever, and you were giving me your formal notice.”
Bodhi holds the handle of the full bucket in his hand, letting it dangle down by his side as I grab a few other clubs from the ground that my second lesson used and put them in my bag.
“That woman is fascinating. I’m not sure if I’m continuing to flirt with her because I’m afraid she’ll light my balls on fire if I stop, or if I truly am attracted to her. I think it’s a mixture of both, and it’s the most fun I’ve had in years.”
I laugh as I shove a bag of tees back into one of the zippered compartments.
“Anyway, I would have loved to continue sitting at the bar, getting hard and fearing for my life at the same time, but I was ordered to leave as soon as Birdie walked in there with a huge smile on her face and one of those donuts you brought in her hands. Nice work, by the way. Birdie even smiled when she told Tess where the donuts came from when Tess asked, instead of immediately vomiting.”
My hand freezes inside my golf bag, and my head slowly turns to face Bodhi as a few more rain drops smack against my cheek.
“Exactly how long ago did you leave Birdie, who I made happy and agreeable with donuts, alone with Tess, who hates my guts and cannot be made happy or agreeable with anything other than the souls of her enemies?” I ask quietly.
I was hoping I’d be able to see Birdie and talk to her again and start building that trust a little more before Tess got involved—always the devil on Birdie’s shoulder.
My heart starts to thump nervously in my chest, but knowing Bodhi has only been out here with me for like ten minutes, there’s no way Tess could have completely ruined what I did in that short amount of time, right?
“Oh, it was ages ago, man. Like, right when your first lesson started with that horny woman wearing a muumuu. As soon as Tess saw the donuts, she told me to get the fuck out of the bar. It was hot. I’ve been sitting out on the deck waiting for you to finish, bored out of my mind.” He shrugs.
Fucking shrugs. Like he didn’t leave a happy Birdie with a belly full of donuts alone for two hours with Tess, where anything could have happened. Yanking my hand out of my bag, I quickly grab the strap and fling it over my shoulder as the raindrops start coming down a little more frequently, and I see the black clouds are almost right on top of us.
“Did either one of them happen to call Birdie’s sister?”
I might be okay if there hasn’t been an emergency Sip and Bitch called.
“I did hear Tess say something about
Wren, but I didn’t catch all of it. I was halfway out the door and onto the deck when I literally ran into that Murphy guy heading into the bar. I forgot how great he is.” Bodhi chuckles while my blood runs cold. “He told me to piss off and take a shower because I looked dirty. I remember from that one time I met him that he’s a pretty levelheaded guy. I’m sure he’ll keep Tess from riling Birdie up.”
My wide, panicked eyes stare at him from a few feet away long enough for the rain to start pelting us, water dripping off my hair and into my eyes because I shoved my hat in my bag earlier.
“Oh shit,” Bodhi suddenly mutters, finally realizing what he’s done.
The bucket of balls slips out of his hands, and they all spill to the green by his feet as we both take off running toward the clubhouse, Bodhi flying right by me since I have to run with my damn bag of clubs smacking and banging into the side of my body as I go.
“This is your fault for telling me I couldn’t fit two dozen donuts in that fucking cooler!” I shout to his sprinting form over the howling wind and rain.
“We were just going to send someone for you, Putz.”
Thankfully, I’m pretty soaking wet and no one would notice if I pissed my pants a little as Tess glares at me from behind the bar, where she’s tapping her long, red, talon-like fingernails on top of the wood.
Not more than five minutes ago, I was thankful for the storm and the empty course. With the rain smacking against the windows and not one customer in the bar, since they’ve all gone home instead of choosing to wait it out in here, I’m kind of wishing the sun was still shining and there were a few more witnesses to prevent the bloodbath I’m sure is about to happen.
I hear a series of cracks and pops and glance over to the end of the bar, where Murphy is standing with his legs planted wide and a fist in his hand, cracking his knuckles while he stares me down. The sounds are like gunshots in my ears as he switches fists and does it to the other hand.
“It’s nice to see you again, Murph,” I say with a weak smile and an even weaker voice, cursing myself when I have to clear my throat as my words come out squeaky.
“Eat your own shit. Can we get rid of him now?” Murphy sighs and then looks over at Tess.
“Did we just walk into an episode of The Sopranos?” Bodhi whispers in my ear from behind me, where we stand right inside the doorway to the bar.
With the rain coming down and the clouds darkening the already dimly lit room since the light fixtures all have green shades on them to create a soft ambiance, along with the flickering of flameless candles in the center of every table, it feels like we just walked into an Italian restaurant in a mobster show, and the soft ambiance suddenly feels ominous.
Tess and Murphy are the muscle by the bar, waiting for the word to kick my ass and teach me a lesson for defying the family. Wren is an associate of the mob organization, nervously drinking a Coke at the other end of the bar, scared shitless she might get whacked if she doesn’t follow the rules. And right smack in the middle, pacing back and forth in front of the bar, is the boss. The one whose long blonde hair is now down from her ponytail and spilling all around her shoulders, the hair band probably ripped out of it like a woman ripping off her earrings before she fights.
I’d like to spend a minute enjoying how goddamn sexy Birdie looks with anger radiating off of her, chin held high and determined, arms swinging and ready for a fight as she paces. But then she stops and stares me down, and I notice the cooler that still had a half dozen donuts left in it when Birdie curtsied and walked away from me earlier is now empty and overturned on top of the bar behind her.
Yep, I’m about to die.
Quickly crossing the room, I stop right in front of Birdie, surprised she doesn’t immediately move away from me. I also curse myself again when I can smell her skin and realize I probably should have stayed back by the door that leads to the pro shop and tried to talk to her from several feet away to save my sanity. My right hand still tingles from where I wrapped it around the soft, smooth skin of her arm earlier. Just that one little touch, and I had to use every muscle I had to stop myself from wrapping both of my arms completely around her and hauling her against me so I could feel her hot, tight little body pressed up against mine.
“What’s wrong? What the hell happened since I last saw you?” I ask her quietly, momentarily getting caught up in her ocean-blue eyes and long, dark lashes as they blink and stare at me like I’m an idiot.
“Oh, you mean what happened between the time you put me in a bacon and carb coma until now?” Birdie asks with a sweet smile on her face that definitely looks a little more homicidal than sweet, and I take a step back from her. “Clarity! That’s what happened!”
She closes the distance between us until we’re toe-to-toe again, poking her finger into my chest over my sopping-wet golf shirt that’s clinging to my skin and feels disgusting.
Tess lets out a whoop from behind the bar when Birdie yells at me, and Wren smacks her glass of Coke down on the wood top from the other end.
“I thought you told Birdie it was up to her how she handled Palmer?” Wren questions Tess, who is still dancing and shaking her ass behind the bar. “You specifically told me that you told her she could handle it however she saw fit, and you would just be supportive.”
Tess stops dancing long enough to smack her hand down on the bar and then point at me.
“That was before this dipshit showed up here bribing our girl with donut meth and turning her into an idiot who makes poor choices.”
“Hey!” Birdie complains, turning her anger away from me momentarily to glare at Tess.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you forget about how you still don’t have an apology or an explanation and he thought two pounds of donuts would shut you up long enough for him to pull an excuse out of his ass? May 24, 2018!”
Birdie’s furious eyes zip back to mine.
“Fucking May 24, 2018,” she growls, her eyes narrowing on me.
So that’s what she’s been mumbling under her breath. For fuck’s sake….
“Birdie, please,” I beg, trying to keep my anger in check and remember getting pissed off at her is no way to get her to forgive me.
“Don’t you Birdie, please me. Just admit it. You turned into a big, famous douchebag who wanted nothing to do with a little old friend from a tiny bum-fuck island even though you swore that would never happen, until your golf career went to shit and you had nowhere else to go. I don’t know why you need time to admit something we all already know.”
God. Dammit.
“Big ego says what?” Tess quips, holding a hand up to her ear, and I hear Bodhi chuckle behind me, all control I have over my anger slipping out the window to blow away with the storm.
Of course she still honestly thinks I stopped being friends with her because I suddenly turned into a giant asshole with dollar signs in my eyes and celebrity friendships taking a front seat to the ones I’ve had since I was a kid. And why wouldn’t she think that? Why would she ever think there was any other reason I lost my shit and took myself out of her life two years ago on that exact date? It just proves that filter I always kept in place did its job a little too well, and now I’m in hell.
“It’s not like that at all, Birdie, come on,” I mutter, shaking my head at her, staring into her eyes, and trying to get her to see she should know better. And she should know me better, no matter how long it’s been since we’ve talked.
“Can I kick him in the balls now?” Murphy asks in a bored voice as I run my hand through my wet hair to push it back and try not to tear it out by the roots.
I always knew this was the chance I’d take by cutting Birdie out with no explanation and with never telling her how I felt. I knew this was the excuse she’d put in her head and run with and she’d never even consider the possibility of another reason. She’d never sit down and really look at that date and put it all together.
“You said you were okay with giving me a little time,” I say as quietly as possi
ble, not needing any extra comments from the damn members of the Bennett mob who won’t go away.
“Yeah, well, it turns out I’m not fucking okay with it.”
My heart starts beating so fast in my chest I think I might have a heart attack. Goddammit, this can’t happen now. Now yet and not in a roomful of fucking people. When I asked for more time, I wasn’t asking for something ridiculous like a few months. A few days, tops, would have been nice. I thought I’d at least get more than a few hours. My palms start to sweat, and my soaking-wet skin gets a chill in the air-conditioned room.
“You’ve had plenty of time. Two years to be exact. Fuck your bullshit need for more time! You’ve had since May 24, 2018!” Birdie argues, while I clench and unclench my hands into fists down at my sides and try not to flip a table.
She’s not the only one who’s been pissed off about that date for the last two years, and just her saying it again makes my body tense as I squeeze my fists harder and dig my nails deeper into my palms. It’s not until Tess has chanted that date five times with her fist pumping above her head and my anger simmering right below the surface that something suddenly occurs to me about Birdie’s anger over the date.
Some of my frustration and rage dissipates just as fast as it came as I relax my shoulders, unclench my fists, and slide my hands into my pockets, and I feel the corner of my mouth tipping up into a smile as I stare down at Birdie.
I chuckle softly when I think about how she’s been muttering that date under her breath when she’s with me, probably to remind herself how mad she still is at me.
This is almost better than a Birdie-launch hug. Almost? Fuck, I want her in my arms right now, but I need to have a little fun first. I deserve it after fifteen years of blue balls.
“What in the hell is so funny?” Birdie demands, her body slanting toward me as it vibrates with fury while she holds her chin up high and her face is flushed with the force of her anger.
