by Paul, JL
“Stay out of it, Morgan,” Evan said, his steely gaze concentrated on Owen.
Owen laughed. “If you tell her to jump, does she ask how high?”
Before I could intervene, Evan’s fist connected with Owen’s jaw. Mortified, I covered my mouth with my hands as Owen struck back. The tables around us cleared as their occupants gathered around the two men throwing punches and threats.
I wanted it to stop but didn’t know how to do it. They were swinging so carelessly that I was afraid if I got too close, one of their fists would hit me.
“Knock it off!” yelled one of the bartenders – Tony, I think was his name. He pushed his way through the crowd and grabbed the back of Evan’s shirt, yanking. Evan lost his balance just as Owen punched again, hitting Evan on the chin.
“You rat bastard!” Evan yelled as he fought to break loose of Tony’s grip. But one of the college guys wrapped his beefy arms around Owen while Tony tightened his hold on Evan.
“Get him out of here,” Tony shouted to the college guy as he dragged Evan behind the bar and into a back room.
I stood frozen in place, my eyes wide, hands over my mouth, as both Evan and Owen disappeared from sight.
“You okay?”
Turning my head to the right, my glazed eyes landed on one of the older college guys who was standing beside me, a light hand on my back. I nodded, although my body was numb from head to toe and I wasn’t sure what I should do next.
“Have a seat,” the guy said, helping me to my chair. He nudged one of his buddies, handing him my glass. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah,” I said with a wobbly smile. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” he said. His friend returned and set the glass in front of me before disappearing from view. The first guy pointed at the glass. “Have a drink. It’ll settle your nerves.”
I did as he asked, choking as the liquid scorched my throat. I’d been expecting another cranberry and vodka but instead had been given something else. “What is this?”
“Just a little brandy,” the guy said. “Sip it slowly.”
I pushed the glass away, not interested in the nasty stuff. I looked at the guy and attempted another smile. “Thanks, but I’m okay now.”
“Okay, if you’re sure?”
I nodded and he left me to relive the entire scene alone.
Nibbling on my lip, I heard every word that Owen had said about Evan controlling me. Was that true?
“Maybe,” I mumbled. He didn’t control my entire life, no, but he sure gave it a shot when it came to other males speaking to me. As sweet as he was, I didn’t think I could handle an overly-possessive boyfriend. Even I wasn’t that desperate.
Evan returned ten minutes later, shaking slightly with a welt on his cheek. He plopped down in the chair that Owen had occupied and gave me a dark look.
The injury to his face touched me, but it also reminded me of what he’d done.
“What were you thinking?” I asked.
He rolled his eyes. “That guy is a dick, Morgan. He was messing with you.”
“And I was handling it myself.”
“He needed to be taught a lesson,” Evan said. “And I taught him. He won’t come back here or go anywhere near you again.”
The anger that had receded while I sat alone returned in monstrous waves. “And who are you to decide who can come near me or talk to me?”
His eyes turned incredulous as he turned to face me fully. “Are you kidding me? You actually want that asshole near you?”
“No, but that’s for me to decide, not you,” I said.
“Maybe so, but it didn’t look to me like he was taking your hint,” Evan said.
“But you didn’t need to come over here, all barbaric, threatening him and then fighting,” I said.
He groaned. “He wasn’t going to ever leave you alone, Morgan. I know how guys like him work.”
“And I’m not entirely stupid, either,” I said. “I can handle Owen. He’s nothing. I would have gotten him to leave. There was no need for fighting.”
He leaned over the table, his eyes no longer readable. “I did that for you. I know you don’t like that sort of thing but I thought you’d make an exception in this case. I thought you’d appreciate that I got the ass off your back.”
He just didn’t get it. It was never going to sink into his head. “I’m not a helpless female. I don’t want to be rescued. I don’t need to be rescued, yet you obviously feel that you need to do that very thing. What, does it make you feel like more of a man?”
His face paled and he drew back as if I’d struck him. A twinge of regret ran through me but it wasn’t strong enough to stop my mouth.
“I can think for myself, Evan,” I said as I got to my feet. “I can decide who I talk to and who can talk to me. I don’t need you to decide all that for me. I’m my own person – not yours.”
Without another look, I strolled out of the bar.
Chapter Eighteen
Rage consumed me as I paced throughout my tiny apartment, my arms trembling like leaves on a tree in a windstorm. My head was a cyclone, spinning out of control with everything that had gone on in the last week or two. The fight between Evan and Owen was just the latest.
Shouting out criticisms of my stupidity as I rampaged through every little room, I vowed to give up on men altogether. How stupid I’d been. Here I was thinking that Evan was acting all possessive because he cared about me but no, he’d just been trying to control me.
“You are the biggest idiot to ever walk the face of the earth,” I said as I gazed into the mirror. Closing my eyes, I clenched my fists as I tried to do deep breathing exercises. It didn’t work. My anger hadn’t abated in the least.
I left the bathroom and plopped onto the sofa. My discarded cellphone sat on the coffee table, taunting me, enticing me to call Evan and scream vulgarities that I’d never used before. But I resisted. Instead, I longed to call someone else – someone to talk me through this mess. Someone to help me make sense.
The logical choice would be Irelyn or maybe Bailey. But that was impossible. They were probably sitting in a luxurious restaurant, enjoying a late dinner after spending the day shopping for wedding accessories and baby items.
Jealousy jumped into the mix of emotions in my gut, churning as though making butter. I was going to have to deal with this on my own. I was alone.
Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes again, wishing that I had a close friend to talk to – to confide in. Spencer’s face flashed through my mind.
Sitting up, I snatched the phone off the table and dialed his number. Why not? He’d called me plenty of times to whine about Bailey last summer. And, wasn’t he seeking me out again after his break up with Jessica? Certainly he could return the favor.
He answered on the third ring in a distracted voice.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, Spence,” I said, fighting the urge to cry. But this was no time for tears. I needed to be strong and not fall apart like a child with a broken toy.
“Morg, what’s up?” he asked.
“Are you busy?”
“Nah,” he said. “Just lying on the couch, watching some old movie. Why? Everything okay?”
“No,” I groaned. “Everything is just falling apart.”
“Oh, Morg,” he said. “Where are you?”
“Home.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
He hung up before I could say another word.
***
“So, spill,” Spencer said as he sat at my kitchen table. He snagged a bottle of beer from the six pack he’d placed in the center of the table upon his arrival. He pushed the beer at me before taking one for himself. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m not sure where to start,” I said, peeling the label off the bottle.
“Try the top,” he said with his goofy, Spencer smile.
Relaxing, I sat back, tipping the beer bottle to my lips. It really hit the spot at that mo
ment, making me rethink my dislike for beer. “Well, I guess I should start with the party we went to a little while back.”
I recounted the story of the guy hitting on me at the party, then shifted to the night Spencer had visited me at Beans. I ended with the fight at Rusty’s, downing the remainder of my beer. Spencer instantly replaced the empty bottle with a fresh one.
“Wow,” he said as he rubbed his chin. “I can’t believe he punched Owen. You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do that lately.”
“Spence,” I said with an eye roll. “Focus here.”
“Oh, right, sorry,” he said. He reached for my hand across the table. “I know you’re upset with him, and I can kind of get it. But, I don’t think that he was doing anything other than look out for you. Sure, he went about it the wrong way, but I guess that’s how most of us men handle things.”
“It’s just so barbaric,” I said. “I mean, he acted as if I was some helpless, vulnerable female incapable of handling any situation.”
He chuckled and then chugged the rest of his beer. He shoved the empty to the middle of the table and then took a new one. “Well,” he said, twisting off the top. “I guess it would seem that way to you, but guys look at it differently. Guys see most girls as the weaker sex. And I think we’re born with some gene that makes us want to protect them.”
Squinting my eyes, I studied him, looking for traces of amusement. I found nothing but sincerity.
“So, what do you think I should do?” I asked.
“Well, Morg,” he sighed. “That’s entirely up to you. You’ve talked to Evan about his behavior and told him that you didn’t like it. Yet, he still blew up at Owen when Owen was talking to you.”
“Meaning?” I asked.
“Meaning that he’s probably always going to act that way,” Spencer said. “I’m not saying it’s good or bad – I’m saying that you have to decide if you want to live like that.”
“I don’t want to live that way,” I said as the anger flared. “I don’t want to always be afraid that if some guy talks to me, Evan will go off on him.”
Spencer shrugged. “It’s your decision, Morg. I can’t make it for you. No one can.”
“I know,” I said, twirling my beer bottle. “I’m just going to have to tell him that it’s not going to work.”
“Is that what you want to do?” he asked. “You need to make sure.”
I nodded without a second thought.
He didn’t say anything. We sat in silence for a full minute. Finally, he broke the stillness.
“Have you talked to Bailey or Irelyn lately?” he asked.
“I talked to Bailey the other day at lunch, but not since,” I said.
“Hm.”
“What?”
“I was kinda hoping that you’d confront them about this weekend,” he said.
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just sort of nostalgic lately. I miss the old group being together.”
I smiled as I ran my finger through the water ring on the table. “Yeah, I miss it, too.”
We sat in silent contemplation for a moment, both of us with a slight smile on our lips.
“Well, you can always hang with us – any time,” he said.
“It’s hard, sometimes. I mean, with our schedules and such,” I said.
He scratched his chin and then ran his fingers through his hair. “Last year, it was so fun. Remember? We met at Rusty’s and hung out every weekend. Things were cool.”
“Yeah,” I said, avoiding his eyes. I knew what came next.
He reached across the table to take my hand. “Morgan, I’m really sorry for everything that happened at the end of the summer. I never met to lead you on.”
Shaking my head, I gave his hand a squeeze. “None of it is your fault. I was the one who acted irrationally. I was the immature one.”
He lifted a shoulder, still clutching my hand. “I wanted to like you for more than a friend, but I still had feelings for Bailey.”
“Spencer, you don’t have to explain anything to me,” I said.
“I think that I do,” he said, desperation in his voice. “After Bailey broke things off, I had a feeling that she’d fallen for someone else – I mean really fallen. Things never really got to the serious point with us. But I liked her a lot.”
I nodded, remembering our conversations from the past.
“You know that I acted like I was fine, and you also know that I wasn’t,” he sighed. “You were the only one I felt that I could talk to, though. I mean, sure, I could talk to Lucas or Collin, but when it comes to feelings, it’s easier to talk to a girl. A girl who is also your friend.”
He got up to toss our empties into the small recycle bin next to the trash can. I held my breath, afraid to speak. I knew from experience that when Spencer got talking, he needed to finish.
“So, anyway, I had you and I appreciate that more than I could ever tell you.”
“You don’t need to say anything,” I said. “I know that you appreciated it. And I’m glad that I could be there for you.”
Nodding, he leaned against the counter.
“Once I found out about Collin and Bailey, I struggled. Of course, by then, all hell had broken loose between you girls. I didn’t want to call you because I knew you were upset and I didn’t think that you wanted to talk to any of us.”
“I would have talked to you,” I whispered.
“I wasn’t sure,” he said. “I didn’t want to whine to you anymore, anyway. I didn’t want to burden you after all that you had gone through with Bailey and Irelyn.”
We didn’t speak, just drifted off into our own thoughts. I drank my beer and reached for another, waiting for Spencer to start again.
“Anyway, it took some time for me to be able to face Collin and Lucas. I felt like an idiot, you know. But I got over it because, really, Collin and Bailey are good for each other. I get that.”
He crossed to me, squatting in front of my chair.
“By then, it was too late,” he said. “I mean to talk to you again. I tried to call but you wouldn’t answer.”
“I was so upset,” I whispered.
“I know,” he said, taking my hands in his. “The girls made me see that you’d had feelings for me and then I felt really horrible. There I was, pouring my heart out about Bailey to you, and the whole time, you liked me.”
“Spencer…”
“No, hear me out, okay?” he said, not waiting for my reply. “I’ve never properly apologized for that. I can’t sit here all night and give you advice about Evan, when I hurt you myself just months earlier.”
“You never meant to hurt me,” I said.
“I don’t think Evan did, either,” he said.
“He knows how I feel about that possessiveness,” I said.
He grinned as he pulled me to my feet and into his arms. I relished the feel of his arms around me, smiling in spite of everything. Closing my eyes, I inhaled his familiar scent.
“I just want you to know that I’m truly sorry about everything that happened. I want us to put all that behind us so that we can start over,” he muttered into my hair.
My heart picked up an extra beat or two. What did he mean? Did he want me for more than a friend now? Should I act on it or wait for him?
I was tired of waiting for people. It was time for me to take matters into my own hands.
Lifting my head, I looked into his eyes. “I accept your apology and want to put all this behind us, too.”
“Good,” he grinned. He leaned down, perhaps to peck my cheek, I didn’t know. The only thing I did know was that it was an opportunity that I wasn’t going to let pass. I rolled to my toes and planted my lips on his, holding him close to my body.
He stiffened for a second before relaxing in my embrace. He kissed me back and a sweetness filled my heart.
But that was it. None of the passion or fireworks. No urge to tug him to my bedroom. Just a sweet kiss.
We broke apart and heat flooded my cheeks. I ducked my head.
“Spencer, I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be,” he chuckled. I chanced a look at his smiling face. “That was nice. It was something I think we needed to do.”
“But, you don’t…have …romantic feelings for me?” I asked.
He stared into my eyes as I held my breath. “I’m sorry, Morgan, but I don’t. I mean, not right now. I just got out of the relationship with Jessica and I don’t want to jump into something else. Especially with you. I couldn’t stand it if I hurt you again.”
“I know,” I sighed as I loosened my hold. “And I think you’re right. Maybe we’re only meant to be friends.”
“Maybe,” he said with a sad smile. “But maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”
“No, maybe not,” I said as I pulled out of his embrace. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you.”
“Not at all,” he said, moving toward the door. “I think it was inevitable that we do that at least once.”
My lips curved into a tiny smile. Grateful that he was taking it all in stride and not making a big deal out of it, I hurried after him to throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly to me.
“Hey,” he whispered into my hair. “We’re cool, Morg. We always will be.”
“I know,” he said. “Thanks for everything.”
“No problem,” he said, giving me one last squeeze before slipping out the door.
Once he left, I cleared the rest of the bottles from the table, dumping my half-empty beer into the sink before dropping it into the recycle bin. Finishing that chore, I drifted into the living room, contemplating my next move. I needed to talk to Evan, but how? Phone? In person?
In a cowardly act, I grabbed my phone, opting to talk it out over the wire. I wasn’t ready to face him yet, especially after the Spencer kiss. But I did want to get things on the right footing. Maybe we could meet for lunch or something tomorrow.
I called his cell, half expecting him not to answer, and was surprised when he did.
“What?” he asked.
“Hey, um, can we talk for a second?” I asked.
“Aren’t you busy?”
I blinked as I sank to the sofa. Busy?
