The One You Fight For (The Ones Who Got Away)

by Roni Loren

  She laughed and tossed the packet his way. Then they were naked again, laughing this time, playfully tussling and getting each other hotter without being in a rush. Because there was no rush. The whole morning was theirs.

  She could be his. He could be hers.

  For these few hours, there was no outside world.

  For once, she wasn’t going to overanalyze it.

  * * *

  “Are you singing to yourself?” Kincaid asked as she followed Taryn into Gym Xtreme Sunday morning.

  “Hmm?” Taryn asked distractedly as she held open the door for Kincaid, Liv, and Rebecca. The scent of barbecue followed them in.

  They’d decided to forgo their usual leisurely Sunday brunch so they could work on the fund-raiser. Bec had picked up a bag of breakfast barbecue tacos on the way instead.

  “Singing,” Kincaid repeated. “You were singing.”

  “Was I?” Taryn shrugged. “Guess I’m in a good mood. Friends and tacos. That inspires song.”

  As does spending a really hot, sexy weekend in a certain man’s bed. She’d barely seen the sun since Friday night. She and Shaw had taken turns not wanting to end the date. First, it was Let’s get some breakfast after they’d slept together Saturday morning. Then, It’s such a nice day, maybe we should take a walk in Zilker Park. Then Maybe we should stop by the store and pick up something to cook. Then they’d ended up back at his place for lunch and dessert.

  He’d had a few clients to train on Saturday afternoon, so Taryn had told him she’d head home when he went into work. Instead, he suggested she go home and pack a bag, and then come back so they could go out to dinner and she could stay over again. She knew it was too much. They were overdosing on each other, both starved after being solo for so long, but even knowing that, she’d found herself packing a bag and humming a tune.

  She hadn’t stopped singing since. She could still feel Shaw coming up behind her at the sink this morning while she brushed her teeth. He’d planted a kiss on her shoulder and then lifted his head. She’d caught his gaze in the mirror. She’d never had a guy look at her like that. Like he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have permission to touch her. The feeling was heady. Addictive.

  In one weekend, she’d become a goddamned junkie for him.

  Kincaid put a hand to her hip, skeptical look on full throttle. “Friends and tacos.”

  Taryn smiled brightly. “Yep.”

  “So this has nothing to do with being at the gym where the hot trainer who I caught you kissing works?” she asked.

  Liv’s head whipped around, her dark ponytail swinging like a weapon. “Kissing?”

  “The hot trainer?” Rebecca said at the same time. “The guy who helped you at the race?”

  “That’s the one,” Kincaid said with a knowing nod. “Full-on lip-lock at a bar.”

  “Oh my God,” Taryn said, glancing around the lobby of the gym as a few members walked by. “Could we not do this right now?”

  She’d told Kincaid after that night in the bar that nothing had happened with Shaw. Because it hadn’t. Except that she’d found out he was Shaw Miller. She’d shut the conversation down cold so Kincaid would leave the topic alone, but Taryn should’ve known that wasn’t the end of it. A scandalous kiss for Kincaid was like waving shiny ribbons in front of a cat.

  Kincaid lifted her palms. “Fine. Fine.”

  On cue, Shaw stepped through the doorway that led to the main part of the gym. His face lit with a smile when he saw her, his hidden dimple appearing. “Taryn.”

  She bit her lip. He was in black workout pants and one of those sweat-wicking T-shirts that clung to everything. She got a secret thrill knowing what he looked like beneath all those clothes. She’d licked that body this morning. “Hey there.”

  The words came out like she should’ve tilted her head and twirled her hair along with them. Lord. Get it together, girl.

  Liv looked back and forth between the two of them, eyebrows climbing upward. Kincaid made a barely there scoff just loud enough for Taryn to hear.

  Taryn cleared her throat, trying to regain some semblance of professional composure. “Lucas, I’m not sure if you’ve officially met Liv and Rebecca. These ladies will be helping, too.”

  Shaw stepped forward, introducing himself as Lucas, his gaze a little wary. Taryn had warned him that her three friends were also Long Acre survivors. He hadn’t been happy to discover that fact. He stepped back, his expression schooled into an unreadable mask. “We’ve got a table set up in the corner for y’all to work at and have your breakfast. If you have any questions about the equipment, both Rivers and I will be around. I think if you’re going to have high school students compete, you may want to focus on the main obstacle course with the biggest foam pit. That one is the most fun and interesting for spectators to watch. Plus, there are a lot of modifications we can do to make it beginner friendly without looking too easy.”

  “And it doesn’t involve that horrible Wall of Death,” Taryn pointed out.

  Shaw laughed, a warm sound that filled the space between them. “Taryn is not a fan of Wally. She thinks our wall has a personal vendetta against her.”

  Taryn crossed her arms. “It does. Let’s not argue. You know I’m right.”

  He gave her a playful look and a wink. “Okay, professor. Whatever you say.”

  God, she was in so much damn trouble. He was just a guy. A guy. No big deal. And she was a grown-ass woman who did not get silly around men. But she felt like a schoolgirl when she was around him like this. She must be lust-drunk or something because she wanted to walk right over there and plant a kiss on those smirking lips.

  “Well, let me know if y’all need anything,” he said, schooling his attention back to her friends. “I’ll be with clients, but I can step away for a minute if need be.”

  “Thanks, Lucas,” Kincaid said with a little too much enthusiasm. “You’ve been an enormous help.”

  Shaw gave Taryn a quick look and then walked back into the gym, leaving them behind in the lobby. As soon as he was out of earshot, Kincaid turned on Taryn, eyes sparkling. “Girrrrl.”

  “What?” Taryn said, shifting her gaze away.

  “What? You slept with him,” Kincaid declared, glee in her voice. “I’m so proud of you!”

  “Oh my God, Kincaid—” Taryn started, but her friends didn’t let her finish.

  Liv grinned wide. “Oh, you so did. I’m sorry. It’s not my business, but it was super obvious. Y’all bantered.”

  “No banter was had,” Taryn said, hands on hips.

  Liv laughed. “And he was totally giving you that Hey, girl look.”

  “He was not.” Taryn could feel her face getting hot.

  “Oh, he was. That was freaking adorable,” Rebecca said, laughing. “And you’ve good taste. He seems sweet…and you know, mega, underwear-model hot.”

  Kincaid laughed. “Bec, I’m telling the father of your child that you’re calling other men mega-hot.”

  Rebecca rolled her eyes, but Taryn’s mouth fell open, and she whirled toward Rebecca. “Hold up, father of your child? Like for real?”

  Rebecca chewed her lip and then broke into a grin and nodded. “For real.”

  “Oh my God!” Taryn put her hands to her face like a scream emoji, but she couldn’t help it. Bec was pregnant? “How did I not know this was officially official?”

  “Because you didn’t answer your phone all weekend. I nearly died holding on to this news,” Kincaid said with an eye roll. “And I was not leaving that in a message.”

  Taryn spread her arms out, happiness for her friend fluttering like a hummingbird in her chest, and pulled Rebecca into a hug, the bag of tacos swinging in an arc around them. “Oh, Bec, that is fantastic news. Congratulations!” Then another thought hit. She leaned back, examining her friend’s face. “Wait, this is good news, rig
ht? Y’all wanted this to happen?”

  Rebecca laughed, her eyes a little teary. “Yeah. I know it’s fast, but we’re married, we love each other, and biological clocks and all. We thought it would take a lot longer, so it was still kind of a surprise.”

  Yeah, biological clocks sucked. Taryn could almost hear that tick, tick, tick in her own head. Growing up, she’d always assumed she’d have kids, but she’d accepted a while ago that it wasn’t going to be part of her journey. She was too busy to put in time to plant seeds of what could become a family. And she was way too busy to even consider attempting single parenthood. Hell, she didn’t even trust herself with a pet.

  Taryn gave Rebecca another hug. “I am so happy for you, girl. You’ll be a fantastic momma.”

  “Thank you. I’m going to do my best. I’ll be learning on the fly since my mom didn’t stick around long enough to show me how it’s done,” she said wryly as Taryn released her from the hug. “But I know how it shouldn’t be done. So there’s that.”

  “You’re going to be fine,” Liv said, putting her arm around Rebecca’s waist and giving her a side hug. “You and Wes will be amazing parents. And this kid is going to have three aunts who are going to smother him or her with love and presents and annoying advice. You’re all set.”

  Rebecca’s eyes watered. “Oh, you guys. Don’t make the pregnant lady cry. I’m a disaster right now. I sobbed at a toilet paper commercial the other day.”

  Taryn laughed, but the word aunt hit her in a tender place. It was a word she never thought would apply to her now that Nia was gone, but Liv was right. These three women were her sisters in every way but blood. They were more than friends. They were family.

  Taryn swiped at her eyes before tears could escape. “All right, my sisters. Before we all completely lose it, let’s get to work. Rebecca is officially not allowed on any of the equipment.”

  Kincaid clapped her hands together, a sunny look on her face. “What a fantastic morning. Rebecca’s baking a bun with the hot chef. And Taryn is playing hide the sausage with the hot trainer.”

  “Girl,” Taryn said on a laugh. “You are relentless.”

  “Am I supposed to apologize for that?” Kincaid asked. “I am invested in knowing what is making my friends so happy. Some would call that being an excellent friend.”

  Taryn smirked. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with then. Yes. I spent the weekend at Sh…Lucas’s place. It…did not suck.”

  All three of her friends grinned simultaneously. Three damn Cheshire cats.

  “The whole weekend,” Liv teased. “Nice.”

  “It was,” Taryn confirmed and looked to Kincaid. “Happy? Can we get to work now?”

  Kincaid let out a little celebratory squee as they walked toward the doors. “Yes. I’m happy. My matchmaking streak continues!”

  Liv gave her a look. “I met Finn in high school. You did not match us.”

  “And I met Wes during a robbery,” Rebecca said. “You had nothing to do with that.”

  “And technically, you didn’t even introduce me to Lucas. I met him the night before the zombie race,” Taryn pointed out.

  Kincaid shrugged. “Details. I laid the foundation.”

  Taryn shook her head with amusement as she fell into step beside Kincaid. “And who’s going to find a match for you, oh Wise One?”

  Kincaid’s lip curled. “Sugar, there ain’t no match for me. I’m like really expensive, extra-potent liquor. Best in small doses.”

  She said it like a joke, but Taryn caught the flash of truth in her friend’s eyes, and it took her aback when she realized Kincaid actually believed that. Despite her unending interest in the love lives of her friends, she didn’t have the same hope for herself? Best in small doses. Kincaid dated around and was a shameless flirt but never got involved in anything serious. Maybe this explained why. She thought she was too much for one guy long term.

  Taryn reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand. “You’re worth getting drunk on, girlie. Don’t let anyone make you believe any different.”

  Kincaid gave Taryn’s hand a squeeze back but didn’t say anything else, the signal clear. She wasn’t going to talk about it.

  Once they got settled at the table and had their breakfast, all talk of their personal lives ended and they dove into the work. For the next few hours, the four of them went over the game plan for the fund-raiser. In between his sessions, Shaw helped them design a beginner-level course that would still be interesting to watch. Despite his initial protest about getting involved, he was engaged and seemed excited when they landed on the final course structure. Rivers joined in, too, offering his engineering expertise to shift around some of the components and sketch out the course.

  “I think this is gonna work,” Taryn said finally, her eyes skimming over Rivers’s sketches. “I would’ve loved to do something like this when I was in high school. Plus, it should be fun for families and classmates to watch.” Her mind was clicking through all the possibilities and potential. “Hopefully, we get a lot of interest. We have an outside chance of hitting our funding goal in one day if we can do this right.”

  “And the money will go to the school program?” Rivers asked, standing behind Kincaid’s chair. Somehow she’d talked him into rubbing her shoulders. The woman was a sorceress. Even gay men couldn’t resist a request.

  “Not directly,” Taryn explained. “The program is going to require a lot of money. This event will give us the seed funds to create a video campaign that we can use to promote the cause and, hopefully, garner public support and attract big donors. We’ll make a short video that can easily be run as a commercial and shared on social media. We might even be able to get the documentary producer to include it with his film. We’ll also have a longer version for people who want to get more in-depth information about the program and why it’s important.”

  “Yeah, we’ll need something catchy for the short one,” Rebecca said. “Attention spans are short these days. Maybe we could put a song in the background. Something people will remember. I can check on the legalities of doing that.”

  “Or Taryn could sing something,” Shaw said from behind her. “She’s got an amazing voice.”

  “What?” Taryn turned, shooting him a look. “No, that’s not…”

  “No, that’s a great idea,” Kincaid said, leaning forward on her forearms, her business face on. “That would add a personal element to it. The only way people are going to give us money is if we effectively tug their heartstrings and make them feel something. Like what you said about dry statistics, Taryn. We need to put faces on the issue for people. A survivor singing a poignant song could be really memorable. We’d need to find the right song for you to cover.”

  “Or she could write one,” Shaw suggested.

  “Wait, you write songs, too?” Liv asked, turning her way. “That’s amazing. How did we not know this about you?”

  “Because I don’t anymore,” Taryn said, her tone clipped. “I think we’re getting off track here…”

  “But what if you tried?” Liv continued. “I mean, I know that’s a lot to ask, but it could be amazing.”

  “My songwriting is not amazing. I haven’t done it since I was seventeen.”

  “But the ability might still be there,” Liv pushed. “I mean, I get the fear. When I decided to pursue photography again, it was kind of terrifying. Like, what if I wasn’t good at it anymore? What if I’d lost my creative spark? But it was still there, waiting for me to get my head out of my ass and come back to it. Maybe your spark would still be there for you, too.”

  Taryn frowned. “Did you just tell me to get my head out of my ass, Olivia Arias?”

  “Of course not,” Rebecca interjected, ever the level-headed lawyer. “I think what Liv is trying to say is that it can’t hurt to try. I think Kincaid’s right. It could be a really effective tool. Like those
ASPCA commercials with the break-your-heart photos of animals in need and that Sarah McLachlan song.”

  “Oh gawd,” Kincaid groaned, collapsing back in her chair as if she were going to melt out of it. “Those are the worst.” She dragged her fingers down her cheeks. “Tears down my face every damn time. Here, just take all of my money, ASPCA.” She motioned throwing money. “All of it.”

  Rivers chuckled behind her. “Yep. I’ve totally donated. Most depressing but most effective charity commercial ever. I’ve heard it earned like thirty million dollars in the first two years.”

  Everyone turned to look at Taryn.

  She was sweating in front of all the expectant gazes. Normally, she didn’t mind taking on big responsibilities, doing whatever was necessary, but they had no idea what they were asking. Write a song? She hadn’t written one note or lyric since she was seventeen. That creativity wasn’t hiding. It was gunned down. “Y’all…”

  “Maybe just try?” Rebecca said gently. “If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.”

  Taryn glanced back at Shaw, who’d remained silent after his original suggestion. He shrugged. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I just know you have the voice for it.”

  Taryn sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Fine. I will agree to consider it.” She lifted a finger. “But we need to have a solid, quickly executable backup plan for when all I come up with is ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb and It Was Awesome.’”

  Her friends beamed at her as if she were Oprah and had just told them they were all getting new puppies. You get a puppy! You get a puppy!

  Taryn shook her head, but her lips twitched with a smile. “You bitches are pushy.”

  Kincaid reached across the table and patted her hand. “We love you, too, sugar. Now…let’s talk marketing plan for this event.”

  Her friends rolled on to the next topic, even though Taryn was busy having an internal hair-on-fire panic at the thought of attempting a song. Not just a song but an emotional one about the hardest thing she’d gone through in her life. Yeah, okay, no problem. I’ll just whip that right up. She took a long sip from her water bottle and decided right there that she wasn’t going to do it. She wanted to make her friends happy and for the video to be successful, but there were better ways to do it. There were amazing songs already out there. Her friends were giving her juvenile songwriting skills more credit than they deserved.