Scorched (The Frenemy Series Book 4)

by Kate Benson

  We catch up on the week, I fill her in on everything that happened with the kids and they share a few highlights from their honeymoon – Dash, as per usual, sharing much more than I’d like.

  By the time we get back to the apartment, both of them abandon their luggage to take the stairs two at a time and I wait for a beat in the car, reluctantly pulling my phone out of my pocket.

  “Hey, it’s Alex. Leave a message and I’ll call you back.”

  “Liar,” I whisper to myself as I hang up the phone and cut the engine.

  I make my way upstairs slowly, eager to spend a little more time with my family before I head back. After Evie and Dash have doted on their sleeping children and washed up from their flight, they join my mom and I for a recap and we spend the next couple hours laughing, eating and relaxing before bed. It’s a pretty typical night for us, something that always makes me happy, keeps me grounded. However, as we all say our goodnights and I make my way to the couch, I can’t shake the new and nagging feeling in my chest that something is missing.

  Someone is missing.

  “You good, man?” Dash asks as he reappears from the hallway, heading toward the kitchen and returning with two bottles of beer and a bottled water before he comes to a slow stop near the couch. “Here.”

  “Thanks,” I smile small, taking a beer. “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I sigh, shaking my head in frustration as I toss my useless phone onto the coffee table. “Shit’s just annoying.”

  “I get it,” he offers, pulling my eyes to his as he takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch and opens his beer. “You know, when all that shit happened between me and Evie while she was pregnant with the twins,” he starts, his voice low. “The fight leading up to it was brutal, but the two weeks she wouldn’t talk to me? That was definitely the worst,” he recalls, shaking his head at the memory. “I’m used to fighting with your sister,” he snorts. “When she went silent on me, though? I thought I was going to lose my mind.”

  “Well, I can’t really compare my situation to yours,” I admit. “But yeah. It’s pretty frustrating.” I open my beer and take a long pull, savoring in the flavor washing over my tongue before I turn back to face him. “It’s even more annoying because I know she’s full of shit. And she knows that I know it,” I shrug. “That’s why I called her out. She’s just running scared and I mean, if that’s what you want to do, fine,” I allow. “But don’t lie about it. Say what you mean, ya know?”

  “Yeah, I do,” he nods. “But not everyone is like us, Mase. You and me? We’ve never bullshitted each other or really anyone else. We know what it’s like to have people blow smoke,” he shrugs. “Not everyone lives that way, though. And it’s not because they’re bad people or anything. It’s just like you said. People get scared of shit blowing up in their faces, ya know?” he asks, making me nod. “I don’t know Alex that well, but from what Evie’s said here and there, she’s had a lot of shit blow up in her face,” he offers. “I know the shit sucks right now, but I’m sure once the smoke clears, it’ll all work out. And if it doesn’t?” he pauses, giving me a shrug. “Fuck it. Sometimes shit just ain’t meant to be.”

  I nod slow at his words, biting the inside of my cheek before I raise the bottle back to my lips and release a short sigh.

  “I know you’re right,” I agree, taking a sip. “Hell, any other time, I’d already have been over the shit by now, but I don’t think that’s going to work for me this time.”

  “Ahh,” he nods, immediately understanding the words I’m not saying. “Well, then,” he shrugs, reaching over to give me a brotherly pat on the back. “You know what you’ve got to do.” I nod. “Ride that shit til the wheels fall off.” He extends his arm and taps the neck of his bottle against mine, smiling at me when I release a low chuckle. “What time are you heading back?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admit. “I’m going to wait for the kids to get up and have coffee with my mom and Eve, but then I’ll head out. I’ve got some shit to take care of before my shift.”

  “Yeah, you do,” he nods. “I gotta check in at the shop, but if you’re still asleep when I leave, I’ll be sure to wake you up.”

  “I’m sure you will,” I chuckle.

  “Bright and early, sugar,” he winks as he stands and reaches for Evie’s water. “Thanks for this week. I appreciate you. Your sister does, too, she’s just still too stubborn to be nice.”

  “I know,” I smirk. “Any time, man. I got you.”

  “You, too,” he smiles, hitting the light and leaving me in the darkness. “Keep me posted.”

  “Yep.”

  I stretch out over the length of the couch, yanking Aspen’s unicorn blankie over my feet and nuzzling into Dallas’ large, plush teddy bear that I’ve been using as a pillow all week so my mom could keep the good stuff in the twins room. I lie awake in the darkness, the gentle stir of Miles being comforted by my sister down the hall making me smile small before it goes silent once again. The room illuminates slightly as a notification hits my phone and I reach for it, not surprised at all when it’s from a social media account and not Alex. I toss it back onto the table, grumbling low to myself as my eyes grow heavy and I finally let them drift shut.

  *

  To my surprise, but no one else’s, by the time I wake up on Friday morning, my emotions have flown right passed hurt and straight into pissed off.

  I tell myself that the two hour drive will calm me down, that by the time I drive directly to Walt’s and confront her, I’ll feel different, but I know better. So, when I pull up behind her car in the back lot, I don’t waste a lot of time cutting the ignition and making a beeline through the back door that leads to her office.

  “Hey Mase-” Amy starts as she rounds the corner, her words stopping abruptly when she sees my expression. “What’s wrong?”

  “Where is she?” I ask, my eyes searching the main floor before they fall back on my friend. “Where’s Alex?”

  “She’s in her office, but-”

  “Cover me for ten minutes?” I ask, making her nod and I thank her, giving her arm a quick squeeze before I turn on my heels and head to her door.

  I release a low breath and knock on it quickly, barely waiting for her to answer before I’m twisting the knob in my fist.

  “Amy, it’s o-” she starts, but I cut her off by swinging the door open and facing her for the first time in nearly a week. “-pen.”

  “What the hell?” I demand, throwing my hands up. “You leave without saying shit and then you ghost me for a week?”

  chapter twenty-eight

  alex

  I told myself the week was all I’d need.

  I told myself that even if he still cared enough to confront me when he came back here, I’d be able to offer some bullshit apology and he’d just go back to hating me.

  I told myself that’s what would be the best – the easiest thing – for us both.

  I told myself that every day – every hour, really – but it was different then.

  That was when I was alone, crying in my apartment, binging on pretzels and twinkies as I rehashed it all with Marvin.

  He wasn’t standing in front of me, chest heaving, hazel eyes boring into mine when I told myself those lies.

  It was easier to believe them when I was drunk, delusional.

  When I couldn’t smell him, feel him all around me.

  Now that he is, I can’t deny any of it.

  “Hey,” I manage, clearing my throat as my hands plant themselves instinctually on the desk, trying to gain some balance. “I was gonna call -”

  “Bullshit,” he cuts me off, taking a step into the office before he pushes the door shut behind him. He makes his way to the edge of the desk, staring down at me as his chest heaves. Fuck, I can smell his cologne. He smells so fucking good. Like a lumberjack in a Dolce and Gabbana commercial. “You fucking bolted, Alex.”

  “I don’t-” I start, running my fingers over my temples as I force my voice to steady. “Mason, I d
on’t know what you want me to say.”

  “I want you to tell me the truth,” he insists. I raise my eyes to his, finding him still staring down at me. His brown hair is slightly mussed, reminding me of his sex hair, and I swallow hard all over again. When he takes in my vulnerable expression, his eyes soften and he releases a long, low sigh, shaking his head before he glances down at his feet and glances back up at me. “Listen, maybe I shouldn’t have said those things – especially not in front of everyone else and where I did – but, you know, at the same time, Alex, I’m not that fucking sorry,” he admits with a shrug, throwing his hands out slightly. “I meant every word of it and all I wanted was for you to be honest with me.”

  “I didn’t lie to you,” I try, but he shakes his head, releasing an unamused chuckle.

  “Well, I guess you’re right. It’s kind of hard to lie when you don’t say anything,” he allows, and I swallow hard. “I basically told you I was falling for you and you ran away and ignored me for six days. Who does that?”

  “I’m sorry,” I start. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

  “Well, what the hell were you trying to do then?” he asks, pacing in front of me for a moment before he comes to a slow stop in front of me. “You know, maybe this is on me. I mean, you’ve made it pretty obvious you’re not interested in talking, so maybe what I should be listening to is all the shit you’re not saying.”

  He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys, pulling off his set to the bar one by one.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m giving you the clean break you want.”

  “Mason.”

  “What?” His eyes move back to mine, his movements slowing for just a moment as I swallow the words I want to say, the words my soul needs me to say. “Alex, if it’s easier for you to ignore it all and just pretend it never happened, then that’s fine, but I can’t,” he admits, and this time, I don’t miss the emotion in his eyes. “I can’t do it.”

  “Please don’t leave like this,” I manage, finally gaining the balance I need to rise from my seat. “Mason, you can’t,” I shake my head, my chest beginning to pound. “You can’t just leave.”

  “Why?” he demands, taking a step closer. “Why can’t I just leave?”

  “The bar … Walt … th-they need you.”

  “Do they need me, Alex?” he counters, still holding my eyes fiercely. “Or do you?”

  Oh, my God. I can’t breathe.

  There’s so much intensity in his stare that my resolve slowly begins to break. I want him so badly, want this so badly. Yet, as he’s handing it to me, begging me to take it, confess how I feel, the thought of taking it into my own hands has me terrified of the aftermath I know will eventually come.

  “Look, I know you’re scared,” he continues, seeming to read my mind. “But I also know that you love me, Alex,” he admits bluntly, making my eyes begin to burn with tears. “What happened to doing scary shit for the ones you love?”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Yeah, it is, baby,” he argues, his eyes softening when I brush away a traitor tear. “It is if you let it be.”

  “Mason,” I whisper, hating the break in my voice. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “I want you to talk to me!” he rails. “I want you to stop being such a little chicken shit and admit that you’re in love with me! You’re better than this, Alex!”

  “But what if I’m not?” I ask, this time, my voice just as demanding as his. “I’m not like you. I can’t just say whatever the hell I want and jump on a whim and pray it’ll all work out.”

  “Does this feel like a fucking whim to you?” he gestures between us, shaking his head in frustration as he stares back at me. “Maybe at first, sure, but if it was all bullshit, you wouldn’t have run off like you did and I damn sure wouldn’t be standing here like a jackass right now after being ghosted for six days.”

  “Then why are you?”

  “Because I love you!” he shouts. “Jesus, you still don’t listen to me!”

  “I am listening,” I offer, stifling an eye roll. “But I’m not reckless like you, Mason.”

  “Maybe you need to be a little reckless sometimes.”

  “I don’t have that option,” I shake my head, biting back the tears that are threatening. “You and Dash and Evie? You all have a family and a safety net and jobs you can’t get fired from. I don’t have any of those things,” I shrug. “What I have is a shitty apartment, an even shittier track record and a fish named Marvin that I can’t even remember if I fed before I left for work this morning. It doesn’t matter what I want or how I feel,” I shake my head. “I can’t afford to be reckless.”

  He takes in my words, my tears, and gives me a gentle nod of acknowledgment before he takes a half step closer and invades my senses with his closeness.

  I crave him so deeply that it takes my breath.

  “It matters to me,” he says quietly. “And maybe you’re right about the rest of it. Maybe I am reckless. Hell, maybe I’m just flat out stupid sometimes, but do you know why I do all those reckless things?” he asks, pulling my eyes to his. “Because I’d rather make an ass out of myself than waste a second of my life on regret,” he continues, his eyes searching my features in a way that tells us both, he’s preparing for these to be the last moment he spends with me. The thought makes my heart clench wildly, my stomach drop. “If you’re okay with the sting that we both know is coming when I walk out that door, then that’s something you’ve got to make your peace with, but I’m telling you this is it, sugar. If you want me, I’m yours. I’m ready to jump, babe. All you have to do is take my hand,” he promises, his strong grip falling on my arms as he stares into me, offering me every single thing I never knew I wanted. “If that’s not what you want, I guess that’s something I’ll have to make my peace with, too,” he swallows hard. “But this is it, Alex. Once I walk out that door, I’m not coming back.”

  I want to say yes. I want to kiss him, throw all this shit off Walt’s crappy old desk and ravage him in the middle of this office. I want him to ghost me while I bake him cookies and have wild sex with him until we’re a hundred. I want all those things, more than I’ve ever wanted anything else in all my life, but when I try to force the words out, they don’t come.

  All that comes is the regret he’d promised when he tosses his keys on my desk and says goodbye.

  It all happened so fast I don’t even realize I’m crying in the middle of the office until I feel the cold tears hit my skin.

  Oh, my God, I clench my chest. What have I done?

  The door swings open and relief fills me.

  “What the hell just happened?” Amy asks as she appears in the doorway, gesturing toward the hallway. “It’s three deep out there and Mason just came up and said he quit. What’s going on?”

  “Shit, Amy!” I shout, making her jump as I swipe at my cheeks. “Is he gone?”

  “Pretty much. He’s halfway to the door,” she admits, taking in my tears. “Oh, my God. Are you okay?”

  “No,” I shake my head. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

  Before I have a chance to hear what she asks me next, I’m running past her into the dark hallway and out into the bar.

  “Mason!” I call out, the loud bellows of four dozen factory workers mixed in with the familiar sounds of glass clanking and loud laughter surrounds me. “Mason!”

  I shout as loud as I can, but my voice is no match for the filled space. I raise up on my toes, trying my best to find him, push my way through the crowd, but by the time I spot him, I know there’s no way I’ll break though the crowd to reach him in time.

  “Fuck,” I sigh, my chest heavier than it’s maybe ever been.

  I glance around me quickly, looking for any opening I can find, any way I can reach him before he leaves. I rush down the galley, hoping there’s more space on the other side of the bar, but when I get there, it’s just as packed. I consider running to the back door
, trying to catch him out there, but he’s moving so fast, I know it’s a risk I can’t take. When Tony approaches me from the side, he takes in my distress, my aimless shouting for him, and beckons me closer.

  “Come here,” he says, grabbing me by the waist and raising me onto the top of the bar, handing me the obnoxious bullhorn with Mason’s name emblazoned on the side of it. “Try that.”

  I slowly rise, the weight in my hand almost nonexistent as I feel my chest begin to pound. I look out into the massive crowd, quite easily filling the bar to near capacity, and I feel like I might be sick.

  “Maybe you need to be a little reckless sometimes.”

  His words echo in my mind and in this moment, I know exactly what I have to do.

  If I live through it, I might just kick his ass.

  My thumb traces over the switch and I release a low breath, my hands shaking as I pull it to my lips. The volume on the speaker screeches slightly and pulls every set of eyes in the bar on mine.

  Including his.

  “I’m ready to jump, babe. All you have to do is take my hand.”

  He hesitates, less than five feet from the door, and turns to face me fully, his eyes quirking up slightly as he takes in my small, shaking frame beneath the barrage of dated lights. As loud as it had been only a half second ago, it’s so deadly quiet now, I’m quite certain everyone within a two-mile radius can hear the sweat beading over my ass right now.

  If this is what I’ve got to do to keep him from leaving, I know I can’t mess it up. There are a million things I want to say to him, a million words that pop into my mind and dissipate just as quickly. I can see the crowd getting restless, his eyes still boring into mine as he pushes through them silently to come a few feet closer to me, and despite all those things I want so desperately to tell him, there’s only one thing that holds fast in my mind.

  I adjust the volume and pull the bullhorn to my lips, praying like I’ve never prayed before that somehow, The Fine Young Cannibals live in all of us.

  As the opening lyrics spring shakily from my chest, I can’t help but notice the confusion spilling out into my makeshift audience. My voice cracks as I try to hit one of the higher notes and a tiny little piece of my soul dies, the pounding in my chest increases tenfold.