His Wasted Heart

by Monica Murphy

  “I might take you up on that offer.” She smiles.

  “Done.” I bring her hand to my mouth and press my lips to the back of it. “Want to get out of here?”

  A knowing smile curls her lips as her answer.

  It’s much later in the night, when we’re both naked and exhausted, our hands idly searching each other’s bodies as we drift off to sleep, when she makes a revelation.

  “I lied to you about working at City Lights because I didn’t want you to think less of me,” she admits, her voice soft in the quiet, dark night.

  Her words wake me up completely and I blink up at the ceiling. “Yeah?”

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t like me if you knew I was a topless waitress. Or that you’d think I was nothing but a big joke. A slut. A whore.” She lifts her head, propping her arm across my chest so she can look at me. I can barely make out her features in the darkness, but I see the whites of her eyes, and can tell just how serious she is. “I hate that I lied to you.”

  “It’s okay.” I rest my hand on top of her head, stroking her hair. “I understand why you did it.”

  “I don’t like hiding pieces of me from you. But it’s something I’ve always done, with everyone.” She ducks her head, her face in my chest, and my hand falls away from her. “There’s a lot of stuff I’ve done that I’m ashamed of.”

  “Can I be real with you right now, like you’re being with me?” I ask her.

  She lifts her head once more, nodding.

  “I don’t like your job. I don’t like the idea of guys staring at your naked chest while you serve them drinks.” It makes me feel possessive in the worst possible way. Like I want to kick ass and destroy people. “But I respect your choices. You did what you had to do to make money and survive. Who am I to judge you for that?”

  “You’re too good to be true,” she whispers, her voice shaky, her eyes glassy. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “Don’t say that.” I touch her cheek, stroke my fingers along her velvety-soft skin. “I hate it when you put yourself down.”

  “It’s true, Rhett. I’ve made terrible choices. I’ve done things that could…hurt you. I want to tell you everything, but I can’t. Not yet.”

  Unease slips down my spine, but I fight against it. I can’t judge her. She’s being honest with me, which is exactly what I want. Getting mad won’t solve anything. It will only make the situation worse. “Take your time. Tell me whenever you’re ready, and I’ll be here.”

  “You are here for me, aren’t you? You really are.” She slides up, until we’re hip-to-hip, chest-to-chest, face-to-face. Eye-to-eye. “You’re the first person to ever do that for me.”

  I frown. “Do what?”

  “Be there for me. No one ever has been before.”

  I cup the back of her head once more, threading my fingers through her thick, silky hair. “I really doubt that—”

  “No, it’s true.” She rests her fingers against my lips, silencing me. “I kept pushing you away, yet you always came back. I didn’t understand why. I still don’t.” She traces my upper lip with her index finger, her gaze thoughtful.

  I kiss her fingertips and they fall away from my mouth. “Maybe it’s because I don’t want to give up on you.”

  “Everyone else does.”

  She seems so sad, so down, and I hate it. Why does she act like her life is always such a disappointment? I don’t know enough about her past to understand, not completely, and I don’t think it’s safe to ask yet. “Not me.”

  “I know, and I’ve grown to appreciate you.” Jensen takes a deep breath, like she’s working up the nerve to say something. “I’m broken, I know I am. I’ve told you before that I’m…not nice. You make me want to be a better person, Rhett, but I don’t know if that’s possible. And I just wanted to warn you that I might hurt you. No matter what you eventually find out, no matter what you see or hear or read, you need to know that right now, tonight, I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I haven’t wanted to for a while.”

  I kiss her. She’s talking nonsense. I don’t get why she’s trying to tell me all this shit. It’s kind of freaking me out, when the logical part of my brain is telling me she’s just being dramatic. “You can’t hurt me,” I whisper against her lips. “I won’t allow it.”

  “You can’t control everything either, Rhett,” she reminds me, her lips on my cheek, my neck. I really fucking love it when she kisses my neck, and she knows it.

  Our conversation gives way to kissing, which gives way to actually having sex, which is a typical night for us.

  But I can’t help but think much later, long after Jensen’s fallen asleep in my arms and I’m wide awake at two in the morning, remembering everything she said…

  And wondering if maybe I should actually take her advice.

  Our local Cheesecake Factory is huge, located right by the biggest mall in town. It’s always crowded, even on a Wednesday night, and we’re late to dinner, which I know will piss my dad and Diane off.

  But when I picked Jensen up at her friend’s apartment, I took one look at her standing in the doorway in her black sweater dress that hugs every curve and shows off her long legs, and I knew I had to have her. I pushed my way inside the apartment, lifted up her skirt, tore off her panties and fucked her right there against the door.

  “Um, Savannah is at work,” she told me after we both came, my jeans around my ankles, her dress bunched up under her breasts, making both of us crack up. I didn’t even think of Savannah seeing us like that. Apparently neither did Jensen.

  It took a few minutes for us to put ourselves back together. Jensen fixed her hair and even had to reapply some of her makeup, though I told her she was beautiful enough and didn’t need it. She seemed nervous, even a little shaky, though usually sex relaxes her, which is why I went for it.

  Well, and I couldn’t resist her in that dress.

  Now we’re entering the Cheesecake Factory fifteen minutes late—not as bad as I thought it would be, but my dad is a stickler for timeliness and that’s usually Park’s job, to show up late. But there he is standing with Addie and her boyfriend Trent, Dad and Diane sitting nearby. Diane’s on her phone, her index finger sliding on the screen, scrolling, scrolling, scrolling, not paying attention to anyone.

  Dad’s glowering at me, his arms crossed, still wearing his suit, like he just came from the office. “You’re late,” he tells me in greeting when we stop in front of him. “You know they won’t seat us until the entire party is here.”

  No, I didn’t know. “Sorry.” I grab hold of Jensen’s hand to find that she’s trembling, staring at Diane like she sees a ghost. “Dad, this is Jensen.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he says gruffly, standing and holding out his hand to shake. I drop Jensen’s hand so she can shake his. “This is my wife, Diane.”

  Diane stands as well, sending Jensen a withering stare before she heads for the hostess stand. “I’ll let them know we’re all here so we can get our table. Finally,” she calls over her shoulder as she walks away.

  I ignore her jab at me, angry that she so blatantly dissed Jensen. “Don’t mind her,” I whisper close to Jensen’s ear. “She’s a total bitch.”

  Her answer is a shaky exhale.

  “Rhett!” Addie tackle-hugs me and I squeeze her close, kissing her check. “I’m so glad you came.”

  “Happy birthday, Ads.” I steer her so we’re facing Jensen. “Addie, this is my friend, Jensen. Jensen, this is Addison, my little sister.”

  Friend. Jensen is so much more than a friend to me, but I can’t call her my girlfriend yet. We’re not at that point in our relationship and I know she would freak out if I use that word, especially to my family.

  Hell, I might freak out if someone used that word.

  “His seventeen-year-old sister, as of today.” Addie grins and wraps Jensen up in a friendly hug. “It’s so good to meet you! Rhett never brings girls around. Neither does Park.”

  Jensen hugs her back, looking
awkward. Uncomfortable. But there’s a smile on her face and her cheeks are flushed. “It’s nice to meet you. Happy birthday.”

  “Thank you! You remember Trent,” Addie tells me, and Trent and I shake hands. “Jensen, this is my boyfriend.”

  “Good to meet you,” Trent says, staring at Jensen like he’s checking her out. Considering he’s seventeen years old and a walking horn dog, I can’t blame him for blatantly staring at my girl.

  But he better keep his hands to himself.

  Everyone’s shaking hands and making nice, and then there’s Park, pushing himself into Jensen’s personal space, introducing himself, gripping her hand tight and taking a long time to let it go. Jensen smiles at him and steps back when he releases his hold on her, her gaze skittering around as if she’s looking for someone else. When Diane reappears, Jensen’s eyes go wide and she scoots closer to me.

  For some reason, she’s intimidated most by Diane. But I guess I can’t blame her. We’re all used to Diane and her typical snobby bitch ways. Like tonight, I can hear her snapping at my dad like usual, because I swear she’s always mad at him, the sneer on her face seemingly permanent. She looks put together though. She always does. With her blonde hair perfectly curled and freshly colored. Her Botoxed face and enhanced lips make her look plastic, and she’s wearing every designer label she can find, like she’s some sort of walking billboard for the finer things in life.

  I hate her.

  “Parker, you should have a word with that hostess,” Diane tells my dad, her disgust blatant. “They won’t seat us even though everyone’s here.”

  “Diane, give them a minute,” he starts, but she cuts him off, shaking her head.

  “I don’t want to be here all night,” she whispers harshly. “This place is so incredibly tacky.”

  Dad’s eyes flash with anger, and Addie’s flash with hurt. Trent wraps his arm around her shoulders, tugging her to his side.

  “Hey, be cool,” I tell Diane, stepping forward so I’m closer to her. “This is Addie’s night. Don’t mess it up.”

  “Are you warning me?” Diane asks, her voice shrill.

  “Diane, settle down,” Dad says, grabbing her elbow and pulling her away from our group. From their expressions and the tone of their voices, I can tell their conversation is turning heated.

  “Nothing like dear old Dad getting into it with the missus,” Park drawls, smiling at me. “Talk about tacky.”

  Addie laughs and disengages herself from Trent so she can wrap herself around our big brother, giving him a smacking kiss on the cheek. “I love you.”

  I slip my arm around Jensen’s shoulders and bend my head so it’s close to hers. “You okay?”

  “Your family is very—overwhelming,” she admits, her voice shaky. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “Don’t think at all. That’s what I always do when I hang out with the fam,” I answer just before I nuzzle her cheek. She smells fucking amazing. I can’t believe we were having sex a little over thirty minutes ago and now we’re here, making nice with the family.

  I wish we were still at her apartment, her bare ass pressed against the door as I pushed inside her. That was a lot more fun than this shit.

  “Rhett,” she warns, right when Park decides to open his big mouth.

  “You two are cozy.” The smug look on his face tells me he thinks I’m an idiot. But my big brother has never been big on commitment. People may say I’m a player, but the real player in this family is Park. Or Dad. “Is this serious or what, Rhett?”

  “Like I’m going to answer that question right now.” I squeeze Jensen’s shoulders reassuringly. “But don’t be surprised if I bring her around you guys some more. As long as you all behave.”

  Park laughs, highly amused. “Guess she won’t be coming around then, since none of us know how to behave.”

  “Hey, speak for yourself,” Addie adds, smiling. “I’m so excited Jensen’s here, Rhett. Someone for me to talk to instead of a bunch of rude guys all the time.”

  “Hey,” Trent protests and she gives him a quick kiss on the lips, shutting him up.

  “What about Diane?” I ask innocently.

  “The Wicked Witch of the West doesn’t count.” Addie reaches over and swats my chest. “And you know it.”

  Jensen laughs, the first time I’ve seen her look relaxed since we’ve arrived, and I’m thinking she’s going to be all right.

  And the evening goes pretty smooth, despite our arriving late and throwing off our seating chances. They finally take us to our table, and I make sure and sit as far away from Dad and Diane as possible. Trent and Addie sit directly across from me and Jensen, and Park sits on the other side of her. Conversation is flowing, Addie telling us how Dad surprised her with her car that morning.

  “Sadie was there.” Sadie is Addie’s best friend. “And she’s got her phone out, taking a video as we walk out the front door. I’m so completely clueless, I had no idea what she was doing, but when we went outside, there it was, sitting in the driveway. My beautiful white Jeep with a giant pink bow on top. It was so awesome, I started crying and screaming, and she got it all so we could post it on my Snapchat story. I hugged Dad so hard he said I was choking him. Huh, Daddy?” Addie leans forward, smiling at our Dad.

  “You got a little excited,” Dad says dryly, making us laugh.

  “Anyway, it was the best present ever.” Addie smiles, sending Trent a look. “Trent and I went to the cemetery after school. We left flowers on Mama’s grave.”

  Shit. I’m usually the one who does that with Addie. I’ll call or text her the week before, and we’ll arrange a time to meet on Addie’s birthday to take flowers and…talk to her. Addie likes to call her Mama, because that’s what Park and I always called her when we were little, and when we told her that, she seemed to latch onto it.

  I hate that she never got to know her. That Addie has no memories of our mother at all. Only what we share with her, photographs and videos, a lingering reminder of our mother’s vibrancy and pure joy.

  “Ads, I’m so sorry.” I reach across the table and rest my hand over hers, giving it a brief squeeze. “I’ve been kinda busy.” Completely distracted by Jensen.

  My excuse sounds lame, but I can tell Addie isn’t angry with me.

  “It’s okay. Trent took me to the cemetery and it was nice. I didn’t even cry. I told her all about my new car, and about Trent, and school. It was good. I like talking to her now, though it used to make me sad.” Addie smiles, and in that moment, she resembles our mother so much, it almost takes my breath away.

  I wonder if Dad sees it. He has to. I wonder if it bothers him, to look at his daughter and see his dead wife.

  “Did Rhett tell you that our mom died giving birth to me?” Addie asks Jensen.

  “Addie,” Park chastises, scowling at her. “Should we really talk about this right now? It’s your birthday.”

  Park isn’t comfortable talking about Mom. Ever. That’s more for me and Addie.

  “It’s also the day our mother died,” Addie points out.

  “Right, but let’s focus on the positive stuff, okay?” Park’s voice is gruff, his gaze distant. Sometimes I wonder if he’s going to explode someday, since he rarely expresses his feelings about…anything. He keeps everything bottled up inside, and that can’t be good.

  “I was just curious,” Addie says, looking hurt. “I think she should know, because I sound like a crazy person right now and I wanted to explain my birthday ritual to her.”

  “He did tell me about your mother,” Jensen says, her voice soft, her eyes lit with understanding. “And I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I didn’t know her, so it’s not like I miss her, though actually, I do.” Addie squints her eyes and twists her mouth, like she’s thinking real hard. Our baby sister is animated and silly and she’ll talk a mile a minute. She drives Diane batshit crazy. Sometimes she drives Park and our dad crazy too.

  But I love her. She’s the closest remi
nder of our mother, and I like spending time with her.

  “I lost my dad last year.” At Addie’s blank look, Jensen continues, “He died.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you meant he was literally lost. Like, you know, people go missing, right? Oh my gosh, you must think I’m a complete idiot! I’m just nervous. I don’t know why.” Addie smiles brightly, reaching across the table to grab Jensen’s hand. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard.”

  “It was.”

  “Do you ever go visit his grave?”

  Jensen shakes her head. “It’s too…new, his death. I’m not ready to face it yet. Going out to the cemetery, seeing his gravestone. I don’t know if I could handle it.”

  I listen to her explanations, appreciating Addie’s questions. Jensen’s opening up to her, and it’s nice. They share something. We all have the dead parent thing in common, and while that’s not a great thing to share, it’s there.

  “I go visit our mom’s grave every year on my birthday. Rhett and I have been going together for years,” Addie tells her.

  Jensen turns to look at me. “And this year you forgot?”

  I nod, feeling guilty.

  “It’s not a big deal! We’ll go another time. We don’t just visit her on my birthday, but we go during the holidays too. Thanksgiving is coming up. You can talk to her then, Rhett.” Addie beams. “I’ll drive you in my Jeep.”

  Our meals are served and Dad takes over the conversation, talking about work, the holidays, how he expects all of us for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Diane complains that she wants to go to Hawaii for the holidays and Dad tells her, “Absolutely not,” in the rudest voice he’s got. “Addie is still at home. We can’t leave her during Christmas.”

  “Do you have plans for Thanksgiving, Jensen?” he asks.

  Jensen blinks, her eyes extra wide, like she can’t believe Dad spoke directly to her. “Um, not really.”

  “You should come to the house with Rhett,” he suggests, surprising me. He sends me a look. “It would be nice to have her for dinner, son.”