Detour Complete Series

by Kacey Shea

The front door opens and my friends approach from the corner of my view. I don’t glance up from my phone, knowing they’re not gonna ignore my outburst, but avoiding it regardless.

  “Girl, what’s your problem?” Aaliyah demands.

  Irritated that it’s gonna be a good twenty minutes before our driver shows, I shove my arms through the sleeves of my jacket and pocket my phone. “I pay my own bills.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, miss independent woman.” Kalise rolls her eyes. “We get it.”

  I lift my hands. “What? That’s such a bad thing?”

  “Of course not. I just don’t see the problem with your famous friend paying our tab and ride,” Aaliyah says. “What gives?”

  I don’t like the feeling. I belong to no one other than myself. I’m not someone who can be bought. And he didn’t even have the decency to show up? “He wants to pay my tab so badly? Where is he?”

  “I’m sorry, Jay.” The tightness around Kalise’s lips softens.

  “Don’t, okay? It’s fine.” I stop her before my anger grows, this time at myself. I’m bringing them down. This night was about time with my girls, and seeing an old friend. I did both. It’s on me for hoping it’d mean anything more. “But we had fun tonight, yeah?”

  Aaliyah shrugs. “No complaints here.”

  Kalise laughs and shakes her head at our man-eater of a friend. “How long till you call that boy back? I’m surprised you didn’t invite him home.”

  “Oh, come on. We all know he was a fuck boy.” She rolls her eyes.

  At that I do laugh. “Then why were you dancing with him?”

  “Boy had moves!” She fans herself as a sleek black SUV pulls to the curb, and not a moment later a second one rolls up right in front of where we stand.

  The doors pop open and with it the face I’ve been waiting on all night. Austin.

  “Jayla!” He meets my gaze and strides from the vehicle as his friends exit the rear door. He doesn’t wait for me to open my arms, instead wrapping me in a tight hug. “You came,” he whispers against my earlobe.

  “Hey,” I manage to say and step out of his arms.

  “Did you just get here?”

  Kalise laughs, but the sound comes out tight. “Ah, no. We’re just leaving.”

  “Shit.” Austin meets my gaze before turning to her. “I’m sorry. It took longer than I thought. There any way I can convince you ladies to come inside for one more drink?”

  “I already called a ride.” I hold up my phone.

  “Oh.” It’s probably my imagination, or great acting on his part, but he almost appears crushed. He shoves his hands into his back pockets and rocks back on the heels of his boots. His friends gather off to the side, talking with the bouncers and line of people waiting to get into the club.

  Kalise and Aaliyah turn away, pretending to talk to each other. I know damn well they’re listening to everything I say.

  “So, it was great to see you.” I force a polite smile onto my lips.

  “Can I give you my number?” He glances at me through his thick lashes and I swear my heart skips a beat.

  I lick my lips and press them together once before answering. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “Or you could give me yours.” There’s a mischievousness to his smile, and he looks every bit the bad boy he did on stage tonight. In so many ways, he is the same. His full lips, strong jaw, and expressive eyes that were forever my undoing. But in others, he is completely different. He’s filled into his skinny frame, not a big guy, but his presence and personality fill every breath between us. And the tattoos. Colorful ink inhabits most of his skin’s real estate in a way that would make most people look unfriendly. On him it’s the opposite, actually. It only enhances the beauty and openness of his eyes. Or is that a trick? It hits me that I don’t know anything about him or the man he’s become. He could be an asshole. A player. A user. Exactly like every other man. It’s for that reason alone I should proceed with caution.

  He steeples his fingers in front of his chest. “Please?”

  I force a lightness I don’t really feel to my voice. “I’m sure you have better things to do than call a girl you once knew in high school.”

  He cocks his head. “Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t?”

  “Not really.” I bite at my lip, unsure whether I want to give him my number. My phone buzzes with an alert as a silver Prius pulls to the curb. I nod to the car. “That’s us.”

  Kalise steps toward the driver and pulls open the door, but doesn’t get inside.

  “You honestly aren’t going to give me your number?” His eyes widen as if he’s truly taken aback.

  “Honey, you can take my number.” Aaliyah steps forward and inserts herself into our conversation. See. I knew she was listening.

  “What about Drake?” I grumble, more irritated than I should be. She’s only playing right now, not seriously hitting on Austin. At least, I hope so.

  “What about him? This sexy rock star is standing right here.” She licks her lips and gives Austin a suggestive stare before digging around in her wallet.

  Oh. My. God. I can’t believe she’s going to—

  “Here.” She shoves a card in his hand. I can’t believe she just gave him her number!

  Austin studies the card and his eyebrows rise before he turns back to me. “You’re in private security.”

  I glance at Aaliyah. She gave him my card. I can’t decide whether I’m relieved or irritated. I cross my arms over my waist. “And that’s surprising to you because . . .” I’m used to being met with blatant sexism when it comes to telling people about my job. Because I’m a woman I must not know how to fight, or shoot a gun, or have a fucking brain.

  “I never knew what happened to you after high school. I never would have guessed.” He shrugs and offers me a slight smile.

  “I’m really good at my job.” I hate that I sound defensive.

  He shakes his head. “I have no doubt. You were always a badass. How’d you end up doing that?”

  “She was a cop first,” Kalise calls from the Uber.

  “Thank you, Kalise. I’m standing right here and my mouth works just fine.” I let loose a laugh and shake my head.

  “There’s so much I don’t know about you.” He holds my stare captive in his.

  “Yeah, same.”

  “Can I call you sometime when I’m back in LA? Maybe take you to dinner?” There he is with that boyish grin again. The one that transforms me into a confused teenager.

  “I don’t know,” I admit honestly.

  “Or hire you to work security?” He holds up my business card.

  “You’d be so lucky.” If we were friends I’d slap his arm, but we’re not and I clench my hand to resist the impulse.

  “I would.” He grins wide and without inhibition. He glances over my shoulder at the waiting car. The one I should be inside right this very second. If it were for anyone else, my friends would be giving me shit about standing outside talking with a man after being so adamant about leaving. They’ll still do it, after we get in the car.

  “I don’t want to say good-bye.” Austin’s gaze turns serious and his voice drops as he takes a step forward. “Not when I’ve just got you back.”

  I hate what his words do to my insides. That he has this much power to twist me up, and after what? A few minutes together, talking outside a club. It’s terrifying what he could do if I gave him more.

  But even I don’t want this to be good-bye. Not for another thirteen years. “Good night,” I clarify and meet his gaze straight on. God, those eyes. “Not good-bye.”

  He opens his arms and steps forward, capturing me in his sure embrace. Normally, it would spike my anxiety, or at minimum spark irritation, but with him it’s different. Maybe because my body remembers, or that he’s always been a safe space.

  “Good night then, Jay,” he whispers close to my ear.

  My body thrills and then stiffens. Crap. No. Not doing this right no
w. I will not have a panic attack in his arms. “’Night,” I mumble into his chest and step out of his arms. Relief and longing war against each other at the loss of his warmth. God, sometimes I’m so fucked up.

  I lift my arm and walk the few steps to our Uber, turning away to slide into the back seat when I’d rather be the one watching him walk away. I don’t glance out the window until the car rolls forward, certain Austin’s made his way inside the club or over to his friends. What I see not only surprises me, but fills me with a giddiness I haven’t experienced since high school. He’s still watching, his eyes on me. One hand lifts to signal his good-bye, and the other is tucked into the front pocket of his jeans. And now I can’t look away, so I don’t. Not until our car turns the corner.

  “Girl . . .” Kalise says both amused and as if she feels sorry for me.

  “Oh, honey, you have it bad,” Aaliyah adds.

  “What? No.” My answer feels as flustered as my thoughts. I can’t have a crush on him; he’s practically a stranger, and I don’t pine after men. It’s simply old feelings, the residual of what I felt for him when we were kids.

  “I didn’t know you to be a liar. Kalise, you hearing this?”

  “Mmm hmm. My ears work just fine.”

  “Shut up. Both of you. He’s an old friend. Nothing more.”

  “That why you never mentioned him before tonight?” Kalise lifts an eyebrow.

  My lips press together and I glance back out the window, away from their knowing stares. I don’t have it in me to lie or even attempt to explain.

  Kalise lets out a soft chuckle. “Homeboy is hella hot. Even if he is a skinny thing.”

  “Those tatts. That mouth. Dear Lord.” Aaliyah fans her face. “Take me to church.”

  That’s it. I can’t stonewall either of these girls. That and they’re completely right. “He’s ridiculously hot, right?”

  “For a white boy, yes. Yes, he is.” Aaliyah bobs her chin.

  “Speak for yourself. I’m all about equal opportunity.” Kalise bumps her shoulder into mine. “Man’s got it going on.”

  “Probably knows it, too,” I roll my eyes and voice my greatest concern. When we were kids, Austin couldn’t get a date to save his life, but I saw how the women salivated over him on stage. I don’t blame them, either. Kalise is right. That man has got it going on.

  “Oh, you know he does.” She glances at me, a soft knowing smile on her lips. “Still only had eyes for you, though.”

  “Mmm hmm,” Aaliyah agrees.

  We don’t talk about him or the concert for the rest of the ride, but I can’t help but wonder about their observation. Is Austin really interested in rekindling our friendship, or maybe something more? More importantly, should I even give him the chance?

  113

  Jayla

  It’s late in the afternoon when I finally roll out of bed the next day. I hate that my first thought goes to Austin, wondering where he is, or who he’s with. I don’t want to think about him. He’s someone from my past. A past I’ve worked really hard to move beyond.

  Then why did I buy the meet and greet tickets?

  I’ve lied to myself, insisting it was only to support the boy who once was my neighbor, my classmate, a best friend through a few of the most awkward years of my life. Back then he wouldn’t shut up about his dream to play music. He and his friends were going to start a rock band. They’d be famous. He’d get out of that shitty apartment. Buy a big house and support his family.

  I don’t know if he’s gotten everything he wanted, but from the outside looking in, it seems as if he’s realized all that and more. Last night I wanted to ask about his family, but I never got the chance. There were so many things I wanted to say, and as I replay the night in my mind, I’m irritated at myself.

  He must think I’m an idiot. What did I think would happen? He’d see me, and what? Ask to be best friends again?

  That this time we’d get a chance to fall in love?

  Dumb. I’m stupid for even thinking it. I shove those thoughts from my mind. I don’t know him. We’re different people now. We’re grown up. He doesn’t have feelings for me, and why would he? We don’t know the grown up versions of each other. And we won’t get to, not when we have different lives. Besides, he has thousands of women at his disposal, and I’m sure he’s not looking for a friend or girlfriend.

  He probably hasn’t thought of me at all since I left the club. It’s that realization that forces me to push him out of my head. I’ve already given last night’s reunion too much mental real estate. It’s pointless anyway since I won’t see him again. I need to move on.

  I work tonight, a boring security detail for a regular that I’m not especially looking forward to, but that’s not why an hour later I drag my feet out the door with more dread than if I were headed to the dentist. Today is Sunday, also known as my weekly dose of guilt and disappointment. Dinner with my Mama and the family. I’d like to believe we can make it through one meal without her highlighting my fails and shortcomings as a topic of conversation, but as far as I know hell hasn’t frozen over.

  “Oh, look who decided to join us!” my brother calls out as soon as I step foot in the door.

  “Auntie Jayla!” My nephew Zac practically knocks me to the ground with his tight hug around my legs.

  “Hey, little man.” I crouch to his level to meet his face. He’s got barbeque sauce lining his lips so I don’t bother to ask for a kiss. “You eat without me?”

  “Grandma said we didn’t have to wait.”

  “And where’s your brother?”

  “Sleeping. He’s such a baby.” Zac rolls his eyes, and it takes everything I can not to giggle. He’s almost six, and my other nephew, Josiah, turned two last month. They’re both a handful.

  “How about you go watch your show so Auntie Jay can eat?” My brother shoos his son back into the other room before turning to give me a hug. “Glad you made it. Mama was ten seconds from sending me out to get you.”

  “I’m not even that late.” I step out of his embrace and head for the dining room. Mama and Desmond’s wife Lina sit at the table waiting and glance up as we walk in. There’s a clean place setting for me next to my nephew’s half-eaten and deserted plate.

  “I tried to wait,” Mama releases an exaggerated sigh and I can tell she’s holding back. We have a standing three o’clock meal at Mama’s house, and most weeks I get here early to help her in the kitchen. After last night and getting home so late, I’m pushing my luck and her patience by arriving fifteen after.

  “It’s fine. I should have called.” I wave her off and take my seat.

  She doesn’t say anything, but I know she’s already forgiven me when she passes a dish and lifts the foil off for me to fill my plate. Food is her olive branch. At least, I assume until I take my first bite.

  “Reverend Samuel asked where you were this morning.”

  “Mama,” I groan around a mouthful of food. Her sole mission in life must be to harass me until I give in. That, and butter me up with her cookin’. “You know I don’t come to church with you.” It’s a reminder she doesn’t need. Since the day I left this house I haven’t been back, but she’s relentless. By the lift of her chin my answer doesn’t grant me a pass. “Besides, I had to work.” Great. Now I’m lying. It’s like high school all over again.

  “He still asked about you. He’s a nice man, Jayla, and it wouldn’t hurt you to come around some time. Everyone always asks where my daughter is,” she accuses and the guilt flows as naturally as her words.

  “Do they ask about your son too?” I lift my brow in challenge before glancing across the table at my brother. Crap. He’s not gonna let that go.

  “Working, huh?” My brother’s glare is almost as hard as my mama’s. “Lina didn’t mention you were working this weekend. I could have picked you up. You know we don’t like you taking the bus late.”

  My sister-in-law meets my glance with an apologetic grimace. I hate that my brother is dragging her
into our drama. I know how much she dislikes taking sides.

  “I forgot to mention it,” I lie again. I didn’t forget. I never do. But I refuse to feed into their overprotective shit. I’m a grown woman. They don’t need to check up on me. Not anymore. “It was too late to call so I took an Uber.” Finally, a truth to work into my story.

  “Everything okay? You look tired.” Mama stares and tries to meet my gaze. Probably so she can determine whether I’m being honest.

  “I’m fine. Promise.” I scrape my fork along my plate and take another bite, hoping that will help turn the conversation elsewhere.

  “Makes me nervous. I don’t see why you can’t get a normal job. It’s not safe, you walking around with a gun with so many crazy people in this world.”

  I don’t remind her those same people are everywhere, in all lines of work, and she probably interacts with them daily. Or that I know how to handle a weapon and myself after serving on the police force for six years. “Mama. Everything is fine.”

  She relents, the grim frown disappearing with a nod, and she passes me the casserole. She might not love that I work private security, but she worries less than when I was an officer. “Eat. You’re too skinny.”

  I’m not, but I don’t dare argue with her. I take the dish and scoop a generous portion on my plate with the intention of not eating it all. Her cookin’ has been and forever will be my downfall.

  “So, you worked yesterday? And you work again tonight?” Desmond meets my stare across the table.

  “Yeah.” I drag out the word and meet my brother’s gaze. He’s figured out I’m lying, somehow, but I’ll be damned if he outs me at the dinner table.

  “A fancy event, or home security?”

  I pinch my lips together. “You know I’m not supposed to talk about my clients.”

  “It’s just strange. Reggie said he saw you.”

  Shit. Reggie, my brother’s best friend from high school. The same guy I used to bring into the station at least once every couple of weeks on petty theft charges when I worked for LAPD.

  “Desmond . . .” my sister-in-law chides.