Beneath the Stands: An Enemies to Lovers, Best Friend's Brother Romance (Sugarlake Series, Book Two)

by Emily McIntire

  I’ve spent a lot of time thinking on Lee’s selfish ways, but this is the first time I’ve recognized the trait in myself. It settles heavy in my gut, cutting out a place for itself among the rest of my mangled pieces.

  Pops doesn’t say another word, just grumbles all the way to his brown recliner in the living room, promptly passing out.

  Sarah’s sitting next to me, quiet as ever. She hasn’t said a word since dinner ended. I’m thankful for her silence, because right now, I don’t think I’d care to hear whatever she has to say.

  I imagined a lot of things for when I came back. Prepared myself for a hundred different scenarios. My shield, strong and sure, has been ready to combat all the emotions I’m not prepared to feel.

  Embarrassment wasn’t one of them.

  That doesn’t stop it from crashing through my defenses and sweeping away any hope that maybe there was something worth fighting for here in Sugarlake.

  There isn’t.

  “I got that girl’s number from your sister.”

  My body locks up tight at Sarah’s words, my hand freezing on the open door of the fridge. “What girl?”

  “Rebecca.”

  “Becca.” I spin to face her.

  Sarah cocks her head. “Huh?”

  My heart thuds against my ribcage. “It’s uh… it’s just Becca. She doesn’t like to be called by her full name.”

  Even as I say the words, I realize they aren’t exactly true. Visions of how much she loved when the name rolled off my tongue flash behind my eyes. My gut clenches at the thought of her loving when someone else says it, too.

  Sarah’s nose scrunches. “Okay, then. Becca. She got us a meeting with her dad next Tuesday, said it was the best she could do.”

  I bite my cheek to keep the questions from pouring out. Questions I have no right to ask—ones I know better than to want the answers to. Because I shouldn’t be dying to know what her tone of voice was as she talked about my wedding to another woman. My heart shouldn’t be faltering in my chest, wondering if shards of glass are wedging in the divots of her soul, like they are for me, or if she’s completely unaffected.

  “You okay there, big guy?” Sarah giggles, waving a hand in front of my face.

  I snap out of my fog, swallowing around the burn of my throat. Wrapping my arms around Sarah’s waist, I peck her lips. “I’m fine. Gonna run to the coffee shop and grab us some breakfast. There’s not shit to eat in this house. Wanna go with me?”

  “Nope. I’m gonna take a shower.” She smiles, rubbing the bottom of my lip with her thumb. “Just hurry back. I don’t really want to be left alone with your dad.”

  I glance toward his bedroom, grimacing at the fact it’s almost ten a.m., and he hasn’t woken up. I wonder briefly if he sleeps in this late every day, or if it’s because his drinking got a little out of hand last night. Maybe he just needs the rest.

  It’s only two blocks to the coffee shop, and it’s a perfect June day, so I decide to walk. It’s early enough where the sun isn’t blistering, and the fresh air will do me good. Clear my head. Hopefully, bring some clarity.

  I think about showing Sarah around town, secure in the fact that it’s a chance to start fresh. To make new memories here. Ones that don’t sting as bad when I’m forced to look back.

  Something makes me look up from the pavement as I step off the curb to cross the street, and once I do, I wish I never had.

  Because there she is.

  Fiery in her aura, and blinding in her beauty. I choke on my inhale, desire racing through my body. I had forgotten how she takes my breath away.

  She’s walking out of the very coffee shop I’m about to enter, and I’m a statue on the curb. My hand rubs my chest, trying to ease my double-crossing heart back into its natural rhythm. At the rate it’s pounding, I’m afraid it might shatter. Like it’s prone to do around her.

  Becca’s head is thrown back in laughter, her crazy curls cascading down her back. My hands tingle from the memory of those strands wrapped around my fist.

  I told myself I was prepared for this moment. It’s been five years. I’ve moved on.

  But I’m transfixed at the sight of her.

  Her hand grasps the arm of the man she’s with, and he smiles down at her with a look I know well. A look I’ve worn a hundred times. One I’ve only ever felt when gazing at her.

  My gut constricts, and I blow out a breath, moving toward the front door of the shop.

  Fuck this.

  She doesn’t get to affect me anymore. Not when it’s clear I never affected her.

  She looks up just as I pass, her crooked smile dropping off her face. I watch from the corner of my eye as she sucks in a breath, hand flying to her chest, right where her heart would be, if she had one.

  Her eyes widen, and as much as it fucking hurts to hold her gaze, I don’t drop my stare. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Those emerald eyes are a vortex, sucking me in and twisting me up.

  It’s what she does to me.

  It’s what she’s always done.

  “Eli,” she breathes.

  My steps stutter, body jerking against the need to pause. I resist the pull, clenching my jaw and brushing by her without a word, treating her like the ghost she chose to be. If I try hard enough, maybe I can convince myself I don’t really see her.

  I walk in the store, ignoring the way my insides simmer and jump, ordering a coffee and a bagel. One for me. And one for Sarah.

  When I walk back out the door, Becca’s already gone.

  But she haunts me, all the same.

  34

  Becca

  Dating app John has turned into a semi-regular thing. He’s a little vanilla in bed, but he curbs the ache, and he’s genuinely a good guy. He’s a lawyer over in Chattanooga, so his hours are long and his time is precious.

  He fucks with precision. Straight to the point. No forcing me out of my comfort zone or making me relinquish control. He’s exactly what I need. Sometimes, the late nights turn into mornings, and I’ve found I’m okay with letting him stay. The loneliness dulls just a little when he’s around.

  I’m meeting up with him after leaving here—here being Papa’s office at the church. Complete with that big, oak desk. The one currently taunting me from its place in the center of the room. It’s lavish in its grandeur, much like the rest of the office. We’re a small town, but religion is easy to profit from, and when it comes to Sugarlake, Papa’s the number one salesman.

  He wasn’t always. Once upon a time, he believed in the words he preached. But real life doesn’t have happy endings. It simply ends. And until it does, we’re all floating aimlessly, trying like hell to find a purpose, hoping we outlast our demons in the game of hide and seek.

  My own personal demon is currently staring at me, the memories seeping from the wood of this damn desk.

  I hate it here.

  The only thing worse than being stuck in here is being stuck and having to talk to my old man about Eli’s marriage to another woman.

  Papa’s voice filters through the hallway, his boisterous laugh sending a shockwave of longing through my chest. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard it, and the sound makes me want to jump out of my seat, rush into the hallway, and see what has the ability to break through his persona to draw out the man underneath.

  I don’t have to wonder for long, because in he walks, and behind him is the true whore of the town. Sally Sanderson, the youth leader of our church, and the woman who’s been fucking my father for years like she has any right.

  Bitch.

  God, how dare she still work here. Thirteen years later, and she’s still around, like a cockroach, infesting everything that used to matter.

  I wonder if they’re still bumping uglies, or if he’s moved onto younger pastures.

  Doesn’t matter. I hate them both.

  A scowl lines my face, stomach churning with disgust as I lean back in the chair and wait for them to acknowledge my presence.

  They
don’t, too lost in each other to even notice I’m here. Typical.

  I scoff, and Sally turns toward the noise, her dull brown hair swishing behind her.

  “Oh! Hi, Rebecca Jean. It’s nice to see you. Your daddy didn’t tell me you would be here.” Her cheeks dust a light pink, and I want to smack the color off her stupid face.

  My teeth grind together, jaw aching from the force. Crossing my arms, I turn my head to the side. She’s not worth my attention.

  Homewrecker.

  Sally clears her throat, shifting on her feet and twisting back to Papa.

  “Okay, Don, I’ll um… see you later.”

  He nods, already moving around his desk to sit down, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he does.

  Sally closes the door behind her. Papa lets the silence linger just long enough to make it uncomfortable. It’s a power play, and one that he’s perfected over the years, at least when it comes to me.

  “Rebecca. There’s no need to be so rude.”

  I shrug.

  He steeples his fingers, resting his elbows on the desk. “What do you need?”

  I twist a curl around my finger, ignoring the way my stomach revolts at what I’m about to say. “Lee’s brother’s gettin’ hitched and wants to use the church.” I rush through the words like they’re on fire. If my dry, swollen throat is any indication, they singed me anyway.

  Papa’s eyebrow quirks. “He’s not out in Florida?”

  I sigh. “I don’t know, Papa. I guess his fiancée wants to have it here.” My voice breaks on the word ‘fiancée’ and I cough, hoping he doesn’t notice. “I’m just the messenger.”

  He leans back, the desk chair creaking like it may collapse any second from his weight.

  A metaphor for my fucking life.

  Rubbing his chin, his eyes laser in on me. I’m not sure why, after all these years, he’s still able to make me finicky, but he does, and I can’t help but shift under his stare.

  My hands grow clammy and I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Anyway, they want to come check it all out on Tuesday, if that works.”

  He nods. “Well, make sure you’re here for it then.”

  My heart stops. Actually stops in my chest, and it’s a miracle I’m still breathing through the stall.

  “What?” I gasp.

  “They’re your friends, so you can be the one in charge of makin’ sure it goes off without a hitch. You need somethin’ to do this summer, anyway.”

  My heart jolts to life, making up for the missed beats with the way it’s thumping away in my chest. I think I may pass out. Or have a heart attack. Maybe both. I did not sign up for this.

  “Papa, in case you forgot. I have a job. I work hard and I think I deserve to enjoy my summer break.”

  He chuckles. A short, sarcastic laugh that heats the blood in my veins, resentment spiraling through me.

  “Idle hands are a devil’s playground, Rebecca. This will keep you busy.”

  The universe is laughing at me. Proving what a cruel bitch it can be, because only a sadistic world would make me pay for my mistakes in such a brutal way. But no matter how bad I want to argue and rage, I don’t. I don’t remind him that I’m twenty-six and not sixteen. I don’t tell him all of the things I really want to say. I spent most of my adolescence fighting against this man, and I’ve learned it’s just wasted energy. My life has been prophesied. Written on the coattails of my mother, no matter how much I try to run from it.

  I’ve accepted my fate.

  For the rest of the night, all through my dinner date, I convince myself it won’t be a big deal. It’s been five years since I’ve even seen Elliot Carson, and if he can move on, then so can I. Maybe we can even be friends.

  But still, when John sinks inside me, it’s blue eyes and dark, honey-blond hair I see.

  The next morning, when John and I stop by the coffee shop for breakfast, I’m feeling lighter than I have in days, content in my acceptance of the hand life has dealt me.

  I feel him before I see him.

  I pretend I don’t, grasping John’s arm, forcing a laugh at whatever he’s saying. But I couldn’t tell you whether it was funny.

  There’s a pull, and I know that if I give in, the glued together bits of my soul will shatter into a thousand pieces and blow away with the early morning breeze.

  Still, I look. I’ve always been a glutton for punishment.

  My heart stammers in my chest.

  I knew this moment was coming, I just thought I’d have longer to prepare—build up the bricks to cover my self-inflicted pain, shielding it from his view.

  “Eli,” I breathe.

  His jaw tightens as he holds me in his gaze, but his steps falter, pausing for the slightest moment. And that’s all it takes, just one moment. One measly second for hope to explode inside every nerve, my heart bursting at the seams.

  But my heart’s a fool. Just like the rest of me.

  Eli restarts his trek, breaking his gaze and breezing through the door, not giving me a second glance as he walks by.

  I guess I can’t blame him. Some days, when I’m weak and pathetic, remembering what I left, I want to walk past myself, too.

  This is my purgatory.

  And helping him marry another woman will be my penance.

  35

  Eli

  It’s Friday, the day I was supposed to be arriving in this hellhole of a town. Instead, I’m sitting on Pops’s couch, wondering why I let Sarah talk me into coming at all. Because now I’m stuck, pretending like every day isn’t slowly sucking away the tiny bits of life I’ve been able to grasp on to over the years.

  Sarah seems to be enjoying her time. She’s fascinated with the southern twangs and the fact everyone knows my name.

  All the things I hate.

  She’s uncomfortable with Pops, though. He went out with his buddies tonight, so we’re taking advantage, having a date night and finally relaxing. Pops hasn’t been the most welcoming, and after his callous behavior toward Lee, I can’t say I blame Sarah for being on edge when he’s here.

  Lee.

  The thought of my baby sister makes my stomach fold in on itself. I should call her, but I have no clue what the hell to say.

  The front door slams open, and I shoot to my feet when I see Lee storming into the room.

  “Sis, what are you doing here?”

  Her face is murderous—cheeks ruddy and lips turned down in a scowl. She surges forward, and before I can stop her, she’s in my face and shoving me back. My legs hit the couch, and I reach an arm behind me to keep from toppling over.

  I breathe deep, trying to shake off my anger. “What the hell, Lee?”

  “When are you gonna get it, huh?” she hisses through clenched teeth. “I thought you bein’ back would make you see. Get you to realize how bad things are, but here you are… sittin’ pretty with your girl while Daddy’s runnin’ around town makin’ a fool of himself.”

  I bristle at her tone, pressing back into her space. “I’m not his babysitter. Pops is a grown man.”

  “Do you know where we just came from, Eli?” she asks, her nostrils flaring.

  Why the hell would I know that?

  Sarah chokes in a breath from beside me, her arm tugging on the back of my shirt. I follow her gaze. Pops is standing in the doorway—if you can call being held up around the waist “standing.” There’s a sheen of sweat on his brow and his clothes are rumpled and skewed, his head lolling on Chase’s shoulder.

  They move toward the recliner and Chase plops him down. Pops hunches over, mumbling with his eyes closed.

  My chest pinches so hard it hurts to breathe.

  “What happened?” I manage to rasp.

  Lee laughs. “What do you think happened, Eli? The same thing that always happens. If Daddy doesn’t have a babysitter, he gets behind the wheel, drunk as a skunk, and ends up at his favorite bar. Only his favorite bar has banned him ‘cause he always causes a scene.”

  She’s talking to me like
I’m supposed to be the babysitter, but how the hell was I supposed to know he was banned when she never said a word about it? I’m not a mind reader. “Lee, I didn’t know…”

  “I’ve told you a thousand times!” she screams, throwing her arms in the air. “Begged you a hundred more. You don’t listen, Eli. You don’t wanna hear it.”

  My stomach sinks like a cement block, my eyes bouncing between Lee and Pops. Heat infuses my cheeks at the thought of Pops pulling a fast one on me.

  Am I that blind?

  He told me he was going out with friends. Sure, he’s been drinking, but he hasn’t been belligerent. He hasn’t seemed like he’s needed anyone to babysit him.

  Pops isn’t that man. He never has been. But maybe I’ve been too lost in my own shit to pay attention. I glance at him again, taking in his features.

  I swallow, peeling my dry tongue from the roof of my mouth. “I didn’t think it was this bad,” I whisper. “Pops said he was meeting up with his buddies. He said you just like to hover, like to control things ever since Ma die—since Ma’s been gone.”

  I can’t come to terms with the fact this man before me is the same one I’ve known all my life. The same one I’ve looked up to, admired, feared. How am I supposed to correlate the two? I’ve had years of being trained into thinking Pops’s word is law, how can I flip that off like a switch?

  If he tells me he’s fine, then he’s fine.

  That’s how it’s always been.

  But this—this doesn’t seem fine.

  Lee throws up her hands like she can’t be bothered to try anymore. Like she’s screaming into the void, even though she’s staring at my face. “The only buddies Daddy has are Jim, Jack, and Johnny. Oh, and the cops that picked him up and booked him tonight.”

  My heart jolts. “He was arrested?”

  Lee’s eyes shimmer with the tears she won’t let fall. “You gotta open your eyes. Daddy ain’t the hero you’ve always seen him as.” She presses her fingers to her cheeks. “I just need a minute.”