Colton tossed a wrench in the air to catch, the picture of ease. “Nah, he’ll be fine. Guy’s been getting his panties in a bunch for months. I think he’s the one who needs to get laid. Though it sounds more like Easton’s up for the next round on the mattress carousel.”
“Fuck off, Colton.”
“Aye-aye, Captain.” He flipped me off in some sort of perverse mock salute before heading over to an old Ford LTD and pressing the button to put it in the air. As he got to work, I caught Gracie’s eye and inclined my head. She understood the gesture and strolled toward the office with me following her like a guard dog. Typical, really, seeing as that was what Brogan and I had been doing since she’d gotten out of diapers.
“What gives?” she asked once we had the door closed behind us.
“You tell me. Anything I need to know?”
“Not unless you want me to get really personal with you about my sex life.”
“Not particularly.”
“Then nope, I’m all good.”
Her attitude made me want to rip my hair out. “Gracie, you know Colton’s not a bad guy—”
She laughed, head thrown back, hand on her chest, guffawing to the ceiling. “Are you kidding me?” she asked once her little laugh fest ended. “You think I care what Colton thinks? The man’s been a mattress-hopper almost since puberty. Trust me, that’s one person who shouldn’t be throwing stones at anyone.”
“His mouth gets the best of him sometimes is all.”
“That’s one way to put it.” She sighed and headed toward the desk. “Mrs. Jeffers called me.”
That caught my attention. “About what?”
“She needed help cleaning up one of her flower beds. Said some of those darn kids trashed it, even though ‘those darn kids’ usually means me, and I certainly didn’t mess with her flowers. I don’t need that sort of drama in my life.”
“You should have called me. I’d have—”
“Jumped in to save the flowery day?” That single eyebrow winging trick was one only Gracie and my mom could pull off, and it frustrated me to no end. “Other people can fix things, you know.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? Because it seems to me you’re a controlling jackass who refuses to sit back and let anyone else prove they can handle shit.”
“Wow, Gracie. Why don’t you say what you really mean?”
“Sorry, it’s just…you work enough. Let someone else take care of things at the park. And at the shop. And…everywhere. Not everything in life needs the Easton Cole stamp of approval.”
If I hadn’t known my sister as well as I did, I might have missed the sadness in her voice. The pain she seemed to be trying to hide. “Something going on you need to talk about?”
She scoffed at that. “And have you try to swoop in to fix things for me? No thanks. I’d rather handle this one on my own.”
“Okay, but I’m here if you need me.”
Her eyes met mine, so wide and clear. Honest eyes. “I know that. Everyone knows that. Who’s there if you need someone?”
My brow tightened. “I’ve got Brogan and Colton—”
“Not like that. Who takes care of you? Who gives you comfort?”
“Gracie, I’m not sure—”
“Never mind.” She waved a hand around as if shooing some errant fly. “Just something that’s been on my mind lately. What else is going on? Why’d you pull me back here?”
I paced the length of the room, thinking about Violet and wondering what she was doing. Which reminded me… “Jude called Violet ‘Cowgirl’ the other day.”
“Violet…as in the Violet Foster? My old math tutor and the girl whose life imploded in high school, Violet Foster?”
“One and the same.”
“And that’s who you asked out. The date.”
“Yeah. I did.”
“Wow. You’ve been harboring that crush for over a decade. Acting on it took balls. I’m proud of you.”
“Not really where I was going with this.”
“Right. Jude called her the old nickname people used in high school to shame the poor girl for daring to have sex. The bastard,” Gracie spat, not missing a beat. “How she’d take that?”
“Quiet, sort of.” I shrugged. “She looked ready to claw her way out of my car, though. Whether to escape or to attack Jude, I have no idea.”
“If that were me, I’d have bitten off my tongue and used it to choke that Jace guy years ago.”
“That might be the grossest visual you’ve ever used.”
“Thank you.” She gave me a sarcastic sort of curtsy before settling at my desk. “What really happened with Jace and Violet, anyway?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I do. I mean, let’s face it, that legend is pretty epic. But I never figured out what was truth and what was pop culture, you know?”
“Yeah, I do.” I sat across from her and kicked my feet up on the filing cabinet. “Though now that you mention it, I’m not even sure what was real. I know there was a video of them having sex, and they broke up over it. The rest…”
“Could be Kardashian-esque spin.”
“Exactly.”
Gracie was quiet for a moment, her eyes unfocused and her brow furrowed. “Why’d they break up?”
“Huh?”
“Well, I mean, I’ve seen the clips. She had sex with Jace, but it looked consensual, so it wasn’t a rape issue.”
I nearly choked. “Damn, Gracie.”
“Blunt is my thing. You know this. Keep up.” She sat back, raising her high-heeled shoes to rest against my desktop. “So why the split if it was just them on an average Saturday night?”
I ran a hand through my hair, remembering. “The night before the rumors started, I saw her walking down the side of the road in the rain. I picked her up.”
“You never told me that.”
“I never really had the chance to. You, Mom, me, we were all…”
Her eyes met mine, both of us probably feeling the sting that never really went away.
“Dealing with Dad’s leaving,” she murmured.
“Yeah. He took off right around the time the tape came out, and I was dealing with…that.” I rubbed a hand over my face, chasing away the anger thinking about that man brought up. “Those last couple of months of school are sort of a blur.”
I sighed and dropped my head on the back of the chair. Dad… His taking off on us had thrown our already small family into a tailspin. I’d been forced to pick up a lot of slack because I’d been the only male in the house, had been forced to take on a lot of roles I hadn’t been ready for. But I hadn’t been alone through all that. Gracie had needed to grow up way too quick, and my mom had lost her husband. We’d all been so deep in our own heads, helping each other out had become next to impossible. But we’d done it. In ragged jerks and starts, we’d made it through that darkest year together. But none of us would ever be the same.
Gracie took a deep breath and shook her head, probably pushing away the same memories dragging my mood right down with hers. “We were all just trying to hold it together.”
But her acknowledgment didn’t relieve my guilt. “Violet was a shell of a person those last couple of weeks. I should have stepped in to help her, but I wasn’t paying attention. She had no one, did she?”
“Sure didn’t seem like it.”
“No wonder she ran as soon as she graduated.”
“I’d have run too. Hell, I’d still be running if that happened to me. Even if it was just so I didn’t kill the bastard.”
My office suddenly felt like a prison, like a cage. I jumped to my feet and paced the short length a few times. I could see the back of the bowling alley through the window, the scene of the so-called crime. Jesus, how hard had it been for Violet to come back over here just to drop off her grandma’s car? To be that close to the building where her world had imploded? For a runner, the girl had nerves of steel.
I turned over memories and rumors
in my head, looking for something tangible to hold on to. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but the entire situation seemed darker somehow. More intentional. I’d always assumed the video had somehow been leaked and Violet had simply taken the brunt of the judgment because she seemed to be the star of the show. I’d never thought about why the two had been at that spot in the bowling alley or how the film had gotten out. I’d never given Jace’s reactions to the events a second thought.
I was now. Second thoughts. Thirds. Every one only made me rage inside a little harder. I’d hated that Jace fucker in high school for dating the girl I’d crushed on, and I hated him even more now for destroying her life.
“You really think Jace shared the video?” I asked, my hands in fists as I fought for some sort of control. “That he purposely set her up somehow?”
“Does it matter? If he did, he’s a disgusting jackass who needs a good, swift kick in the balls. But if he didn’t, then he’s worse.”
“How is he worse?”
Gracie appeared at my side and stared out the same window, probably seeing the back of the bowling alley, too. “Because during those last few months of school—as guys patted him on the back and Violet slunk through the halls with red-rimmed eyes—he never once defended her. He let his friends, his sister, and all the rest of the student body kick her when she was down, and he never said one word to help her.” Gracie curled into my side, snuggling under my arm as soon as I raised it for her. “Jace let her hang as the town whore, while he became a hero. I would have run, too. And, Easton? I know you don’t want to hear this…but I’d never have come back. Her being here isn’t a sign or a new start—it’s a fluke.”
I knew that. I didn’t want to focus on it, but I knew it. And I hated it.
My sister sighed and smacked me on the chest. “You’d better text her that you can’t make your date. Give her some time to make other plans.”
I knew that too. But I just had to ask the question I didn’t want to know the answer to. “What are the odds of her sticking around, you think?”
Gracie took her time answering, still staring out the window at the back of the bowling alley. “You care for her.”
I grunted, unable to answer her. Knowing the answer didn’t matter—she already knew.
“She’s not a project, Easton.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? Because right now, it sure seems like you’re looking to fix something here.” She sighed. “You can stop taking care of everyone else, you know. Dad’s been gone a long time, and we’re all fine without him. We figured it out.”
Wrong. She was so very wrong. “Drop it, Gracie.”
“Fine. But I know you, Easton. You’ve been trying to control everything since Dad left, to fix things and make everyone else’s life easier, while you took on all the stress. You can’t control Violet Foster, and you’re not the one responsible for fixing anything in her life.”
“I know that.”
“Then you shouldn’t be asking what the odds are for her sticking around. You already know they’re slim to none. I hope I’m wrong for your sake, but that’s the truth. And there’s nothing you can do to stop her from running again.”
I knew that too.
CHAPTER NINE
VIOLET
“Hey, all. I’m home. And look—I smuggled in Puerto Rican limes!” Dahlia strode through the door, clothes as bright as ever, light-red hair smoothed back in her ever-present bun and holding up a bag of bright green fruit.
I’d never been happier to see her.
“Keep it down, woman. Grandma’s sleeping.” I gave one final glance to my phone before getting up. I’d been obsessing over the silent device for at least the last hour, hoping like some kind of love-sick kid that I had the guts to call or text Easton. I’d also secretly been wishing he’d call or text me instead and arguing with myself over whether or not I should even go on a date with him, considering the situation. Hence the staring at the phone instead of actually dialing or texting or…anything.
“Sleeping already? Sorry. I didn’t know,” Dahlia whisper-yelled. I was pretty sure she was the only person on earth who could pull that off. Everyone else ended up sounding hoarse or as if they were choking on something. Instead, my cousin sounded all happy and young and…perfect. As usual.
Dahlia set her bag down with a mea culpa sort of expression on her face then took three exaggerated, silent steps in my direction. She looked like a cartoon villain sneaking into the bank in the middle of the night. An image that made me chuckle.
“God, I’ve missed you.” I greeted Dahlia with a hug, the two of us clinging to one another for more seconds than was probably considered normal. “It’s been too long since you’ve come to visit me in Chicago.”
“Tell me about it.” She huffed and blew her wispy bangs out of her eyes before turning her bright stare my way. “I’ll make us some tea.” And off she went. Dahlia tended to blow in like a whirlwind, all full of life and happiness. Ever the optimist, the woman shone in a way not many did. People were attracted to her for many reasons, but it was her obvious love of life that drew most in. And she did love it—she loved it hard and rough and loud, like two people caught up in a passionate affair.
“I have to tell you about the resort we stayed at. Yoga on the beach at dawn followed by mimosas? That was a thing.” Dahlia moved about the kitchen, chattering to me in her bubbly way. The sound was soothing in its normalcy, the energy calming. Something I always forgot about until I was back in the same room with her once more.
As she set a kettle on the stove, my phone pinged. I tried not to rush for it, edging my way around the chair to the table with slow steps that tested every ounce of my control. I wanted to dive for the device, but I also wanted to wait and delay any sort of disappointment. What if it was an email? What if it was from one of my bosses or a friend from Chicago? It might not be Easton. I wouldn’t know until I looked, though.
When I finally reached the phone, I picked it up and held on to it for a good minute before swiping the screen to life. New text message…from Easton Cole. My heart flipped. Actually seemed to flip right over in my chest. I was in so much trouble.
“What’s going on over there?” Dahlia glanced at my phone then back at my face, her eyes curious.
“Nothing.” I clutched the phone a little tighter. “Just a text.”
“Looks like more than just a text.”
“No, it’s really just a text.” One I’d been both hoping for and dreading all day. And if there was anyone who could understand that feeling, it was my cousin. Might as well admit why this text felt different from the rest. “It is from a guy, though.”
Dahlia waited, her smile growing. “A guy in Chicago?”
“No, here. A friend. Easton Cole.”
“You mean Easton Cole from high school? Of the trailer park trio?” She did not look happy anymore. “Best friend of Colton Bearn?”
I shrugged, knowing her feelings for Colton ranged from simple dislike to pure hatred depending on the day. “One in the same.”
“Hmph.” She began opening cabinets, obviously searching for something. “Why’s he texting you?”
“We sort of went out.”
“Like on a date?”
“Kind of. As friends.”
Dahlia stopped banging around and stared at me. “How do you kind of go on a date?”
“We bumped into each other at the grocery store and went for a drink.”
She nodded once, solid in her opinion as she stated, “Sounds like a date.”
“We’re just friends.” I swiped my screen again, this time clicking through to the messaging app. “He was supposed to get in touch with me today about meeting up, though.”
“As friends?”
I shrugged, avoiding that question. Easton and I weren’t really friends. Not in the strictest sense of the word. But whatever we were, whatever was happening, felt good. Felt right.
My stomach knotted as I read the scre
en.
Hey. Just so you know, I’ve had some stuff come up at work and am super busy. I’m not going to be able to go out tonight. I’ll text you, though. Maybe we can get together again in a few days.
Aaaannnnddddd…there went that thought.
“Not even friends, it seems.” I bit my lip, typing in a quick, Sure. Whatever works, before pocketing my phone again. “I think he just blew me off.”
Dahlia held a tea bag in her hand as she frowned in my direction. “Oh, well that sucks.”
It did suck. It sucked hard. I’d actually gotten my hopes up and been excited about seeing him again. Stupid me. Shaking off my disappointment, I painted on a smile. “Forget him. Tell me more about your trip to Puerto Rico.”
As expected, Dahlia’s eyes lit up. “You know how we were there for leadership training and to film a promotional video for the franchises? Well, at the last minute, my boss—”
“The arrogant dickhead,” I interrupted, having heard far too many stories about her boss not to.
“Exactly. So, the arrogant dickhead decides, as we’re packing the van to take the videographer and team to the waterfall where we had arranged to film the video, that he’d rather shoot in some ancient, dilapidated building in Old San Juan. Without site prep or a permit. Without knowing which dilapidated building. So here I am, in my Pilates Bar gear, walking up and down dirty, tourist-ridden streets trying to find something suitable for his new vision and trying to appease the rest of the instructors by buying them rum drinks at a bar. I swear, if I had a flux capacitor, I’d go back to the day I met the arrogant dickhead and tell him to take his job offer and stuff it.”
“And yet, you still work for Pilates Bar.”
She shrugged. “I love Pilates and teaching students how to achieve better body balance. I just hate the corporate crap I have to deal with—and my boss. The rest of my team is amazing, the instructors are all phenomenal, and the equipment I get to work out on every day is the best available. Even the marketing and recruiting stuff I do is a challenge I enjoy.”
“When arrogant dickhead isn’t involved.”
Pop The Clutch: A Second Gear Romance Page 9
