When I Fall

by J. Daniels

  “Okay.” Beth starts walking toward the bar. I let go of her hand and touch the small of her back, guiding her to go on without me.

  “I’m going to go talk to someone real quick. I’ll meet you over there.”

  She looks at me like she might protest leaving my side, but it’s brief. After a simple nod, she moves fluidly between guests in the direction of the bar.

  I turn and make my way across the dance floor to the other side of the tent. Mr. McCafferty meets my eyes briefly as I get closer, then recollection lifts his chin. He says something to the man seated at the table, sets his tumbler down, and steps forward with a hand extended.

  “Reed, it’s good to see you. How’s the construction business going?” He shakes my hand, keeping his gray eyebrows pinched together. Silently asking what the hell I’m doing here.

  I give him a look, I have no fucking idea, and he breathes a laugh before running a hand over his short beard.

  I stick my hands in my front pockets. “It’s good. Busy right now. We just started a job over at St. Joseph’s putting in that new wing.”

  “Oh yeah, I read about that in the paper. Cancer center, right?”

  I nod as my eyes find Beth across the room. Her back is to me while she stands alone at the bar. Shit. I need to make this quick. I don’t want her feeling like I’ve abandoned her.

  “How’s your grandfather doing? Is he still working?”

  I look back at Mr. McCafferty. “Yeah, he’s still working. We can’t keep him away from the shop.”

  “How old is he now? I’m surprised he’s not retired.”

  “He turned eighty-six two months ago. My grandmother keeps begging him to retire, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen. He doesn’t know how to sit still.”

  He laughs through closed lips, stepping aside to allow a caterer to pass. “You tell him I said hi when you see him.” He offers his hand again, concern settling on his face. “I don’t need to worry about you breaking up an engagement, do I?”

  “No, sir. Your daughter invited me.”

  I spot Beth in her same spot, but now being engaged into conversation by the bartender. A lot of conversation. The asshat apparently doesn’t have a shit ton of other guests to serve.

  Fucker.

  I jerk my chin in her direction as I release Mr. McCafferty’s hand. “I’m here with someone. It was good talking to you.”

  He says in return, “you too” or “take care” or something. I’m halfway to Beth before he finishes whatever the hell it is.

  She’s holding a drink in her hand, sipping through a straw. Asshat behind the bar can’t stop looking at her.

  “Hey.” I get as close to her as I can without knocking her over.

  She looks up at me, still tasting her drink. I slide my hand along her back to her hip, pulling her a little so her shoulder hits my chest. I look up at the guy still staring at Beth, not registering my presence at all. My stomach churns with a foreign possessiveness as my fingers flex against her hip.

  Can you not fucking see me with her?

  Beth makes a noise in the back of her throat that grabs my attention. Her nose wrinkles as she swallows, pulling the drink away from her mouth. She shakes her head. “No, I definitely don’t like that. It’s a little strong.” She sets the drink on the bar and slides it away from her.

  “Aw, come on. I pegged you for a girl who liked sex on the beach.”

  My head snaps in the dead man’s direction. “What did you just say?”

  He smiles, amused at himself as he picks up the glass. “Sex on the beach. The drink. I thought she’d like it.”

  “Well, she doesn’t. And don’t assume she likes anything. You don’t know her.”

  He holds up his free hand, palm out, and takes a step back. The drink Beth didn’t like is still in his other hand. “Easy, man. She didn’t know what she wanted. I was just letting her try it.”

  I feel Beth’s hand on my chest. When I look down, she’s giving me the most puzzled expression, like she can’t understand my reaction. I can’t understand it either. I’ve never wanted to rip someone’s arm out of their socket and beat them with it, but I sure as hell want to now.

  I pinch my eyes shut, take a deep breath to calm the rage boiling inside me, and open my eyes to look at her.

  “What do you like? Fruity stuff? Like strawberries?” A part of me wishes I already knew this answer.

  “I like strawberries,” she says, tilting her chin up.

  I acknowledge her with a nod before looking over top her head. “Make her a daiquiri. And don’t make it that strong.”

  Asshat jerks his head to let me know he’s heard me. He grabs a blender, half-filled with a red slushy consistency, and pours it into a glass. Grabbing a small napkin, he sets the drink down on the bar and sticks a straw in it.

  “There. It’s not strong. There’s barely any liquor in it.” He steps away to help another guest, not giving Beth another look.

  She turns around, moving my hand along her back, and picks up the drink. I watch her take a sip, then another.

  “Mm. Wanna try it?” She offers me the straw but I decline with a shake of my head.

  I hadn’t planned on drinking at all tonight. And if I was drinking, I wouldn’t be throwing back anything that looks like a 7-Eleven Slurpee.

  The straw slips out of Beth’s mouth as her eyes focus in on something, or someone behind me. Shifting her weight on her feet, she stares for a few more seconds before blinking away.

  “We should probably go say hi,” she says on a rushed exhale. Spinning around, she sets her drink on the bar after taking another sip.

  Maybe I should pick that up and down it.

  I crane my neck around and spot Molly talking to a group of people across the dance floor. Might as well get this shit over with now. The sooner she sees me here with Beth, happy and not caring about anything besides the woman on my arm, the sooner we can get the hell out of here. I don’t want to be here a minute longer than I have to.

  “Come on.” I take Beth’s hand in mine and lead her across the floor. Looking over, I see the nervousness twitch across her face as we move through the crowd. “Ready to be my girlfriend?” I ask, and so quickly I shock her, drawing that smile out I’ve gone too many minutes without seeing.

  She nudges playfully against my side, her profile still lifted as her eyes train ahead of us. “I’m ready.”

  Molly sees us coming before we get halfway across the dance floor. She slowly lets her mouth fall open, the whites of her eyes growing as she looks down my arm to where I’m holding Beth.

  Yeah, take a good fucking look.

  She taps the suit behind her who’s engaged in conversation at a table, then leans in to say something to the three women surrounding her. They each give her a hug before walking away together.

  As we close the gap between us, Molly wipes any telling emotion from her face, keeping her expression stoic. I’m expecting the first words exchanged to be a concealed insult from Molly. But it’s Beth who speaks first.

  “Congratulations again. And thank you so much for inviting us.” She leans into me, tipping her head back until our eyes lock. “We’re having the best time.”

  Nothing but honestly in her voice. In her face, the way the blush creeps up the length of her. She’s not saying that for Molly to hear. She’s looking at me, making sure I hear it.

  Sweetheart, I hear it.

  “What’s up, babe?”

  A man’s voice has me looking up at the suit who still has most of his back to Molly, his head partially turned to look down at her.

  “Did you need something?” he asks, sounding bored, and I swallow down the laugh that wants to erupt from my throat. If this is the guy she’s marrying, he’s more interested in whatever conversation she’s trying to pull him out of than anything to do with her.

  Karma. God, you sweet, sweet bitch. I could fucking kiss you.

  She grabs his shoulder, pushing, urging him to spin around. “
Yes, babe, I wanted to introduce you to some of our guests. Can you give me a few minutes?”

  I jerk my head to shake the hair out of my eyes as the man finally obliges her.

  He turns while keeping one hand on the front of his suit jacket, throwing the other over her shoulder. Looking like something the two of them practiced for public appearances.

  I look to his face, ready to offer my hand so we can get these introductions over with. Recollection hits me like a two-by-four to the gut. My body tenses, squeezing the air from my lungs. Beth hisses next to me when my grip on her becomes painful. I loosen it but can’t look at her. I can’t look anywhere but at the man staring back at me, ignorant to who I am. Ready to shake my hand like he didn’t have his dick in my girlfriend nine years ago.

  Fuck.

  I should’ve taken that drink.

  Beth

  REED GOES PERFECTLY STILL NEXT to me.

  His face pales, a harshness tightening his profile and removing any trace of the playful man I walked over here with. His breathing grows louder, seething against his teeth. I hiss when he bears down against my hand, wiggling my fingers when the pain dulls out. He has to be reacting to the man standing with Molly. I’m guessing it’s her fiancé. I’m also guessing based on the swift change in Reed’s mood that he might already know him. A thought stirs in my head, another possibility. Reed said he was over Molly. He said he stopped caring a long time ago. But maybe this is the first time he’s seeing her with someone else, and it doesn’t matter who it is standing next to her. He always thought it would be him.

  I try to think of something else to keep myself from paling.

  Reed’s hand on my hip. His breath against my hair. His words from earlier.

  I’m gonna kiss that smile right off your face.

  That does it.

  Molly focuses only on Reed, ignoring my presence now that she’s not standing alone. She straightens with pride, looking up at the man beside her.

  “This is Craig, my fiancé. We met back at Virginia Tech my freshmen year. Craig, this is Reed and . . .” She looks at me, squinting. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

  “Beth,” I answer, straining to keep any attitude from reaching my voice. I’m sure she remembers my name.

  “Right, Beth.” A grin twists across her mouth like a snake slithering in the grass. “Sorry. All the excitement of getting married has left my brain a little foggy. I’m sure you can understand.”

  “Of course,” I reply.

  What did Reed ever see in you? I don’t say.

  Reed stays silent. Another squeeze to my hand. This time I don’t wince.

  Craig takes his cue and tips his chin to Reed. “Hey, how’s it going?”

  There’s no familiarity in his greeting, so maybe they don’t know each other.

  His dark eyes lower to mine when he doesn’t get a response, and he lifts his eyebrows subtly. “Hi.”

  As soon as he says the word, his eyes wander to his left, bored, looking for something else to engage him. As if trained to do so, his attention pulls back to Molly when she tugs on the front of his suit jacket.

  I’m expecting her to slip a treat out of her cleavage and feed it to him.

  Molly glares at Reed for long seconds, growing annoyed at his silence. She threads her fingers through the hand on her shoulder and wraps her other arm around Craig’s waist.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything? Did you suddenly go mute or something?”

  I look up at Reed, unsure of what to expect.

  He’s staring directly at Molly, or Craig, I can’t tell, but it’s as if he doesn’t even realize it. He seems stuck in his head, or so intently focused on his own restraint that he can no longer see anything in front of him. I wonder if I pry my hand away from his if he would launch forward and tackle one or both of them to the ground. It’s not like I’m holding him back. I doubt I could, but he’s gripping me like he needs to be steadied. Like I’m the anchor he’s afraid to let go of. His nostrils flare as he forces the air in and out of his lungs. It’s the only noticeable reaction on his face. The tell-all to his torment.

  The light from the chandelier above us catches in the stubble along his jawline, stubble I hadn’t noticed until now. He suddenly appears more rugged. Maybe even larger. I look down at his exposed forearm when he puts stress on my hand—again.

  His dress shirt is pushed back close to the elbow, revealing the thick veins threatening to burst under his tan skin. His muscles roll as he adjusts his grip, causing the pressure to burn across my knuckles.

  It’s not painful anymore, but I feel it. His distress signal. Maybe he can’t tell me this is too much, but he’s showing me.

  Get me out of here, Beth.

  All of a sudden I’m the girl in the bar again, needing to protect the man next to me.

  I tuck myself against Reed’s side, shifting our joined hands to my back. My other hand presses against his hard stomach as I look up at Craig. “It’s very nice to meet you. Congratulations on your engagement.”

  My eyes shift to Molly, and I keep them kind. “I’m sure you have a ton of people to mingle with so we won’t keep you. Again, thank you for inviting us.”

  I push against Reed to turn him around, to get him away from this mess I put him in, but he doesn’t budge.

  “Reed.” I look up at him, but his attention is over my head. Burning like a wildfire. My hand meets resistance again when I urge him to move, and I think this might be the only fight left in him.

  Molly snickers behind me, then her tone changes as she demands something of Craig.

  I don’t care what she has to say, or what’s gotten Craig’s attention off her. I’m only focused on Reed.

  I lay my hand against his cheek, the bristles from his jaw scratching my palm, and at that sudden contact his eyes collide with mine. Through impossibly long lashes, he looks at me with a vulnerability that slams against my chest.

  Tomorrow, sweetheart. You and me.

  He said those words to me before, when he agreed to do this.

  “You and me, right?” I murmur, only for him to hear.

  He seems so distant right now, I fear my voice will never reach him. But his lips part, blowing his warm breath against my wrist as soon as I speak.

  I take that as a sign and make my third attempt.

  This time Reed moves willingly, permitting me to lead him across the dance floor. We make it out of the tent, and I keep walking, following a caterer into the farmhouse where a few guests are mingling around a large table covered in hors d’oeuvres.

  I have no idea where I’m going, or what my plan is, but the second I see a staircase leading to a seemingly quiet second level, I take it.

  Reed doesn’t protest or try and lead me in another direction. He doesn’t speak. He keeps his grip tight on my hand while his heavy feet follow me into the first room at the top of the stairs.

  I shut the door behind us, running my hand along the wall for the switch. A small lamp turns on in the corner.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, wincing at my obvious stupidity as I turn to face him.

  Really, Beth? Clearly he’s not okay.

  Pacing in front of the window, Reed rakes his hands roughly down his face, scraping his stubble. His shoulders are hunched forward, pulling the dress shirt tight against his back and displaying his lean waist.

  “Fuck!” he growls, stopping to look out the window and pointing at something down below. “That fucking bitch. Not only does she pick this venue, here, to throw this shit, but she invites me to it knowing I’d recognize that motherfucker. And then I go and react like that. I couldn’t show her I didn’t give a shit about her anymore. I stood there, shocked, unable to do anything, say anything, like a fucking pussy. Fuck!”

  Blinking slowly, I try to take in what he’s just said, but my mind floods with questions. It doesn’t make sense to me.

  “You know him?” I take a cautious step forward, stopping when Reed snaps his head in my directi
on. My hands tangle nervously together against my stomach. “You . . . were you friends? Why did he not recognize you?”

  “We weren’t friends.” He exhales a heavy, depleted sigh, turning around and slumping back against the wall beside the window. He drops his head and his eyes lose focus. “I never knew him. I just recognize him. A few months after Molly went away to college, she started acting different. I didn’t know what was going on. She just stopped calling me, stopped coming home to see me, and when I would get her on the phone, she couldn’t get rid of me fast enough. I’d visit her when I could and things seemed fine when I was there, but Tessa was convinced something was going on. She told me to drop in on Molly when she wasn’t expecting me. So I did.”

  I inch forward slowly, looking for any sign from him indicating I should stay where I am, but Reed never looks up.

  “What happened?” I ask, apprehensive for the answer but too curious not to probe. The toes of my boots knock against his feet, halting my progression.

  He tips his chin to his right. “Walked in on her riding his dick.”

  I bring my hands to my face, my breath hot against my fingers. “Reed.”

  He doesn’t react to my voice, his name, doesn’t lift his eyes from where they stay glued to some spot on the floor.

  Oh, God. I knew she hurt him somehow. I thought she ended things, blindsiding him and breaking his heart. But this? Walking in on something like that?

  Bitch.

  I understand now why he froze up, but that still doesn’t explain why having the party here is an issue for him.

  My one hand circles his wrist while my other falls to my side. “Why does it matter that it’s here?”

  Now he can’t seem to look anywhere but where I’m holding him. He blinks once, turning his arm so my fingers slide to his palm.

  “You’re about to hear how pathetic I used to be. I’m not sure that’s something I want you to know.”

  “I bet I won’t think you were pathetic.”

  “Sweetheart.” He licks his lips, wetting them. “I was the definition.” Lifting his head, he drops it back against the wall and stares at me through half-closed lids. His light hair is disheveled, some pieces falling close to his eyes. He looks tired, but God, he’s so sexy I almost forget what we’re talking about. Reaching up with the hand not occupied with mine, he yanks at the knot in his tie and pops the top button of his collar.