Regret (Under My Skin Book 1)

by Christina Lee

  “Nightmares are common after a traumatic event,” Tristan said out of nowhere. I had almost forgotten he’d been in the corner on a phone call. “I had a few of them after Chris passed.”

  “Damn, that’s tough,” I admitted with a frown.

  “Sounds like this guy could use a friend,” he said low to my ear as he patted me on the shoulder, and passed through to the other side. He had no idea what our story was, but somehow he always seemed to give advice that made me think.

  Was it possible to only be a friend to Nick? The question of the hour.

  “Look at you all concerned about Nick when only weeks ago you couldn’t stand the sight of him,” Elijah hissed. “Told you he’d grow on you if you gave him a chance.”

  “Shut it,” I said just as the business phone rang. I answered it and made an appointment for a nail clipping for a schnauzer tomorrow afternoon.

  “Hey, want to meet us at Bent this weekend?” Elijah asked after he took the last bite of his sandwich.

  “As long as it’s not a setup this time,” I replied. “Right?”

  “Yeah, okay,” he grumbled. “Kam could’ve worked out in the right circumstance.”

  I shook my head. “Give him some room…he’ll be back in the game soon enough.”

  “True enough,” he agreed, quirking his lip. “Maybe I can get my roommate to come out this time around.”

  My heart picked up speed from simply imagining seeing Nick again. Still I attempted to act nonchalant, even though nothing felt further from the truth.

  “Good luck with that.”

  29

  Nick

  Elijah and I had just finished playing a couple of rounds of Mortal Kombat, and he pretty much mopped the floor with me. I wasn’t firing on all cylinders since Brin left and he could tell something was up but had yet to get around to asking me about it—in his own unique way, of course.

  “It’s sort of strange around here without Brin, you know?” he asked from the other end of the couch.

  I nodded numbly but simply hearing Brin’s name made my chest ache with a longing I hadn’t felt in ages—if ever, at least to this degree. “Tally, too.”

  He grinned, and playfully backhanded my leg. “Thanks to you, we all call her Tally at Doggie Styles now. Even Tristan.”

  That made me smile. Like I had infiltrated Brin’s life in some small way, while he barged right in and bulldozed mine. “How is she?”

  “Tally? Good. You can ask Brin yourself, you know?” he replied and then seemed to watch me closely for any signs of life.

  I had just gotten home from a long class day and a cemetery visit where I had broken down in tears and admitted everything to Dad and Zoey, like I was in some church confessional. The fact that I had feelings for Brin—probably always had—and how I yearned for everything to be different. To have my entire family intact again, for example, as well as be free enough to allow someone like Brin into my life.

  To top it all off, today was Zoey’s birthday—a day I dreaded every year because I was responsible for her not being able to celebrate it. I was the sole reason she was no longer in this world and I would never not feel sorry about that. I would carry that impossible weight on my shoulders until the day I died. My only saving grace was to see her again someday—if that were at all possible in this universe. To hold her small body, see her dazzling smile, and whisper how much I loved her.

  “Can we get real for a minute?” Elijah asked bringing me out of my thoughts. My gaze automatically swung to the door expecting Stewart to knock any minute since they were tied at the hip most weekends.

  “Yeah, sure,” I responded. “Why do I have a feeling you’re going to ask me about my history with guys? There haven’t been that many.”

  “Was Brin your first?” he asked and I inhaled a deep breath.

  “There I go putting my foot in my mouth again,” he said with a wince. “It’s just…there’s something between you, and I know it’s got to be more than what either of you has already told me. The way you look at each other…”

  “You mean the way Brin shoots daggers at me?” I replied with a smirk.

  “Nah, he doesn’t hate you, no matter what he says.” Elijah rolled his eyes dramatically. “He might be hurt about something, yeah, but there are other feelings there too that I can’t quite place.”

  My head swung down, my heart beating out of my chest, my emotions too close to the surface.

  “So what the hell happened between the two of you?” he asked in a tentative voice.

  At this point, what the hell did I have to lose in telling him the tragic story? He knew most of it already. “He was my tutor in math and we became…close.”

  “As in intimate?” he asked and then grinned sheepishly.

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “And one day in the locker room, we almost got caught.”

  “Wait a goddamn minute–in the locker room?” He rushed his hands through his hair, his eyes wide. “Are you fucking crazy?”

  I shrugged as a warmth filled my chest thinking about that time in my life. It was deep sorrow peppered with the glow of attraction and companionship, a bright face in the crowd, secret smiles, that abated the storm clouds at least temporarily. “We were just…”

  “Really into each other?” Elijah asked with a raised eyebrow.

  I nodded, the back of my neck heating up.

  “My one teammate started razzing him about being a faggot…” I took a deep breath. “And I didn’t stick up for him.”

  “Well damn,” he replied, his shoulders deflating. “Now I get it, why he was so off-kilter seeing you that first night.”

  I found I couldn’t even look him in the eye. “He refused to speak to me after that. In fact, he never even looked in my direction again. I deserved that.”

  Elijah’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, maybe even a little proud of his friend for making a clean break. It was definitely the right thing to do.

  Damn. It still burned hot in my chest.

  “I had a ton of family shit going on back then, but that’s no excuse. I was a coward,” I explained. “I hope my most recent apology was enough. He definitely deserves better.”

  “He does,” Elijah agreed. “But don’t you think you’re better…at least the man you’ve become?”

  God, if he only knew all of it, he might not think so highly of me.

  “Nah,” I said, looking down and fiddling with the hem of my jeans. “It’s a no-win situation. I’d only hurt him in the end.”

  Elijah stared at me for the longest time, as if trying to read between the lines.

  “I don’t get why you have such a flawed opinion of yourself.” He narrowed his eyes. “Maybe you’re the one who’s worried about being hurt.”

  Shit, he could read me well. Except for the part where I was already gutted and bleeding.

  Before I could respond, there was a knock on the door.

  Elijah stood up to let Stewart in. “You want to come to Bent?”

  “Probably not,” I replied, even though the idea of going out to a club and getting trashed was enticing at this point.

  After Stewart waved and they both stepped out into the hall, Elijah turned back and added, “I invited Brin tonight. Though I’m not sure if he’ll even show.”

  After they left, I sat staring at the blank television screen taking deep breaths and considering my options. How much would it hurt seeing Brin again? Maybe it’d give me some perspective to be out in public with him. We’d eventually have to learn to be courteous through mutual friends anyway.

  I lifted my cell, remembering my friend Darren’s standing invitation to get a beer. Want to meet at Bent?

  Darren responded almost immediately. Seriously? I’ll meet you there in an hour.

  I felt a tap on my shoulder as I stood in line to get through the door at Bent. The place was hopping. Darren bumped elbows with me. “I was totally jonesing for a night out, especially since Dave is out of town.”

  “Glad I tex
ted you then,” I replied with a smile. Little did he know I already started by having a beer at home, to ease my way into this club scene. But also to try and dull all these emotions swirling inside me.

  “It feels like forever since we hung out,” he said as we moved further up in line.

  “Yeah, I know,” I replied, unease settling in my stomach. “My bad.”

  “What made you decide?” he asked as we showed our IDs to the bouncer.

  “Today’s her birthday and I guess…I just want to forget.” Darren was the only person I could say those words to who wouldn’t push or need further explanation.

  He thumped my shoulder. “Understood.”

  Once we got inside the pounding music reverberated through my teeth. We headed through the sweaty bodies to the bar. I’d only ever been here on one other occasion but as natural as driving to this bar seemed, I also felt a bit out of my element. Pretending for so long would do that to you, I supposed.

  We ordered shots from a very cute bartender, and I immediately downed the glass, ordered a tall beer to chase it and guzzled half the drink once it was placed in front of me. “Pace yourself, brother,” Darren said in my ear. “From what I remember, you’re not much of a drinker.”

  After another shot and more catching up with Darren at the corner of the bar, we spotted Elijah and Stewart on the dance floor. I’d admit I was disappointed Brin wasn’t with them, but I also didn’t know what I’d say to him at this point.

  “Let’s go,” Darren said, yanking on my arm. I’d forgotten how much he loved to dance. The alcohol definitely helped loosen me up and so did Darren’s hands on my waist as he ground his hip against me. My hands were in the air, and I was floating away on the thumping melody. I rarely let loose like this in public, but I felt safe here, like I could sweat it all out—all of my pent-up grief and emotions.

  When Stewart and Elijah sidled up to us and I introduced my friend, Darren said hello and then slid his hand around my waist and nuzzled my neck affectionately, reminding me in his own way he was there if I needed him. He’d always been a touchy-feely kind of guy and I didn’t mind his demonstrative side, especially not tonight when I was hurting and needed a friendly and supportive face in the crowd.

  Elijah’s eyebrow arched and his lips twisted into a wry grin as he watched me laugh and squirm from Darren’s playfulness.

  “What?” I mouthed to him, spinning in a circle and shaking my hips, feeling like I was floating on air.

  “I like it,” he said. “Seeing you unwind like this.”

  But Stewart’s eyes were narrowed, never seeming to want Elijah’s attention to be anywhere but on him. “What the hell? Are you gay now?”

  “What if I am?” I slurred, feeling the effects of the alcohol. Guess I was a lightweight. “Is that a problem?”

  “Did you know this?” Stewart asked, reaching for Elijah’s jaw and looking him in the eye.

  “Let’s talk about this later,” Elijah said, pulling at his arm. “He’s had too much to drink. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Of course it’s a big deal if your roommate is just coming out and he—”

  “Are you for real? I’m not attracted to your boyfriend, okay? I’m totally hung up on somebody else if you want to know the real deal,” I blurted out. “You’ve got such a great guy right in front of you—he adores you—and you don’t need to keep him on a short leash because…”

  Suddenly Darren spun toward me, grabbed hold of my neck and smashed his lips to mine, effectively shutting me up. The kiss was nice and warm and I went with it, marveling at how different it seemed. How his slick lips felt profoundly less intimate than the simple touch of Brin’s fingers carding through my hair. Nothing felt right anymore. I shoved Darren away. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Making sure you don’t get in a cat fight with that guy,” he hissed at me. “Not tonight when you’re in this condition. You don’t want to be looking for a roommate on Monday.”

  “Fuck, okay,” I replied, thankful that he had my back. I straightened, trying to get my head in order, as I swiped at my mouth with my forearm. Except my head sort of felt like an inflatable at the moment. As did my heart.

  When I looked back at Stewart and Elijah apologetically, I noticed they had moved to the perimeter of the dance floor. That’s when my gaze tripped over other eyes and my breath stuttered in my throat.

  Cobalt blue and lined with black kohl, Brin was like a beacon of light in the darkened room. Vibrant and sexy, I couldn’t look away even if I tried.

  I was suddenly struck with a memory from several years back.

  I’d just hit my first home run and had rounded all the bases. My teammates had run out of the dugout to congratulate me and the fans in the stadium were going nuts. Hands were grabbing at me and thumping my shoulders as my gaze darted to the stands. My father was on his feet, the hugest smile plastered across his face. My chest inflated with pride and joy that I could give him this and make his night.

  My heartbeat pounding in my ears, my gaze slid upward to the fourth row near the stairs, where I’d noticed Brian Schubert and his friend sitting earlier. They sometimes showed for games, but I didn’t get the impression that Brian particularly liked baseball. Guess I always secretly hoped he was there to see me.

  He and his friend were also on their feet, but Brian wasn’t clapping, wasn’t even smiling. He was watching me, his gaze steady as the full moon on a clear night. His jaw hanging slightly open as if in awe, his irises seemingly crisp and sparkling—almost like a prism, allowing a breathtaking glimpse inside of him. When our eyes locked for one intense instant, it was as if the earth had stopped spinning, gravity pulling sharply on our centers and inching us closer together. And as his gaze softened, becoming molten blue and melding into mine, it was like he actually saw the real me. Even the dreariest corners of my soul.

  30

  Brin

  I clenched my jaw and breathed through my nose, attempting to get my crazy pulse under control. Some attractive guy was hanging onto Nick’s hips, even had his mouth on him before Nick pushed him away and I was so goddamn jealous I could barely see straight.

  Nick was so fucking sexy with his tight black jeans and his hair perfectly styled against his forehead, looking just tousled enough that every man in this damn place would want to run their fingers through it. It made me wonder how many guys had already tried.

  But as his gaze penetrated straight through me, it hit me like a freight train how much I wanted him. All to myself. For one more night. Or all of my nights. And that killed me most of all. Because I was asking for the impossible. For him to be mine.

  “Who the fuck is that?” I asked with a little too much gusto and Elijah raised his eyebrows in my direction. I wasn’t sure why Nick was here or if he was looking for a hookup but the very idea ate away at my gut like acid.

  “Nick’s friend Darren from cosmetology school,” Elijah replied. “I think he was only trying to distract him because Nick seems a little off tonight.”

  “Distract him from what?” I asked as I watched Darren whispering in Nick’s ear about something. Too close. You’re too damn close.

  Elijah angled his head in Stewart’s direction. “They had some words.”

  My stomach tightened. “Because he finally figured out that Nick likes men?”

  “Guess I hadn’t really thought it through when I invited him. Didn’t exactly expect him to show up,” Elijah replied as if he could possibly control how his boyfriend was going to respond. “Didn’t really imagine Nick getting all down and dirty on the dance floor either. Hot damn.” He mouthed that last part.

  He was right. Nick was all raw and unfiltered, and probably a bit tipsy if his glassy eyes were any clue. But he was breathtaking when he wasn’t holding back or trying so hard to control his emotions. There was a storm brewing in his eyes. Sadness mixed with relief—and as his gaze continued to seek mine out there was hot and searing longing that made my chest ache and my mouth water.
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  And when an adorable, crooked grin stretched his lips and showcased that dimple in his chin, my stomach swooped. I couldn’t help tilting my head and returning a smile in his direction.

  “You’re drooling,” Elijah said in my ear. “Why not go dance with him?”

  “What? No, I’m not—”

  “Yes, you are,” he replied through gritted teeth. “You can’t keep your eyes off of him and I have no idea why you’re holding back. He’s been moping around the apartment and if I was a gambler, my money would be on you. He has feelings for you.”

  I sucked in a breath. “How do you know that?”

  “He told me—all the shit that went down between you in high school.”

  That same old resistant pride took hold in my shoulders. “Doesn’t change what he did to me.”

  “No, it doesn’t. He fucked up but he’s a good guy. Isn’t it obvious?” he replied in an exasperated voice. “And he is so crushing on you. If I had to guess, it’s been for years and you never gave him the time of day.”

  “Would you have?” I asked in a smug voice.

  “No,” he replied with a clenched jaw, and then his eyes softened. “But I believe in kismet and maybe it was meant for you guys to reconnect again.”

  “It’s more complicated than that.” I took a sip of the Cap and Coke I ordered from the bar and was largely neglecting. “He’s still struggling with shit from his past.”

  “Maybe he could use somebody to lean on,” he replied, which sounded a lot like what Tristan had said to me the other day. On that note, Elijah was coaxed to the dance floor by Stewart, who looked equal parts conciliatory as pissed off. Whatever, dude.

  I stood against the wall sipping my drink and watching my friends, trying like hell to stop my gaze from returning to Nick again and again. My eyes roamed all over his muscular forearms and lean chest as he swayed with Darren, who now seemed to be keeping his distance. When he jiggled his ass and coyly looked over his shoulder at me, I was a goner. Playful, tipsy Nick was exquisite. I wanted to rip his jeans down and finger his hole like he did mine the other night. I pushed on my zipper with the heel of my hand, telling myself to keep it cool.