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

by Emily McIntire

  “I love you. I do, and I could watch you walk down that aisle, knowing I’d be content for the rest of my life.”

  She huffs out a laugh, a tear escaping from the corner of her eye. “Content. How romantic.”

  “I’m trying to be honest. Please, Sarah. Please, just be honest. To yourself and to me. Don’t we owe each other that?”

  She bites on her lips, staring out of the windshield. My leg bounces under the wheel.

  “I guess…” She exhales through her nose, her jaw tight. “I guess you’re safe to me.”

  My brows jump. I wasn’t expecting her to say that.

  “I’ve had that... feeling. That craziness that makes you feel like you’ll die if you lose it. Like you’ll never breathe again.” She stops, blowing out a breath, tears dripping off her chin. “It’s a drug, and it never ends well. It hurts. You don’t make me hurt, Eli.” Her eyes meet mine, and in this moment I know.

  This is it.

  We’ve been blanketing the hurts from our past with each other, settling for the warmth and pretending it’s enough.

  I breathe deeply, the lump in my chest growing until it clogs my throat. “I love you.”

  She hiccups, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I love you, too.”

  My nostrils flare, the salt of my tears teasing my lips. “But I’m not in love with you,” I whisper.

  Her eyes flutter closed, and she nods. “I know.”

  The second I say the words, there’s a sense of peace. A lightness from the relief of finally having an honest conversation. Of acknowledging what we’ve both always known, even when we chose to be blind.

  When we pull into the driveway, she grips my arm. “Can we… Can I…” she huffs out a breath, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Will you wait to tell everyone? I’d still like to go to the party tonight, just… let me leave this place with a little dignity. I’ll find a flight back home tomorrow. If you just give me a little time, I can be out of your house, I—”

  She chokes on the words, tears cascading down her face, showing me more emotion than all the years we’ve been together. I realize in this moment that we’ve been living as acquaintances, accepting each other for the facade we portray, not loving each other for who we truly are.

  I smile softly, the pads of my thumbs wiping under her eyes. I rest my forehead on hers, and her hands fly up, gripping the back of my neck.

  “I’m so sorry, Sarah.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” she rasps.

  We stay locked in our embrace for long, tortured seconds, the air pregnant with sorrow of a fractured friendship that should never have been more.

  Sarah is my drug, the one I use to blunt the pain.

  But I’m ready to feel.

  43

  Becca

  It’s an odd feeling realizing the way you’ve lived your life isn’t how the world really is. They say perception is reality, and hell, I guess that’s the truth because I’ve perceived my momma wrong all these years. I’ve placed her beside me as an innocent—a victim. A woman who fell short of the mothering aspect of life, but a bystander to the cruel and twisted man my papa is, nonetheless.

  Too prideful to admit her pain, yet too weak to leave.

  Just like me.

  I’ve been so afraid of becoming her that I drank in her words and used them as my fuel, not realizing they were molding my cells into a perfect replica. Now when I look in the mirror, I see Momma staring back instead of my own reflection.

  Thoughts become things.

  Momma’s an actress. A manipulator. And I’ve been her marionette, dangling from her lines for far too long. She played my strings so expertly, I didn’t even realize I was her puppet.

  Last night, particularly, was worthy of a standing ovation, enough to fool even the harshest of critics. But it had the opposite effect on me.

  I don’t buy her sorrow.

  My heart doesn’t mend based off her empty apology. The only thing it does is show me that Momma is not the weak and innocent woman I thought she was.

  Momma is a snake.

  A viper, just like her husband.

  Sickness spreads through my heart, poisoning my blood when I think about what that makes me.

  Waiting on Eli and Sarah to show up to the church, I force my limbs to move until I sit behind Papa’s desk—the one that represents the first crack in the foundation of my beliefs.

  My folks are masters of deception. They prey on your trust and edge along the rim of honesty, until you don’t know how to tell the truth from the lie.

  Knowing that doesn’t change the fact I saw Papa rutting on top of Sally Sanderson, and it doesn’t take away the disappointment in knowing he made vows and broke them. But for the first time, I realize the image he shattered in that moment—that image never really existed.

  It was a mirage. An illusion that’s been propped up and executed beautifully for years.

  My heart picks up speed when I think about what the motive was behind Momma finally telling me. I know as sure as the day is long, it wasn’t from the goodness of her cold, dead heart.

  I don’t intend to stick around and find out.

  My eyes glance over Papa’s desk. Papers are strewn haphazardly, and there’s a gaudy, gold cup in the corner, holding an assortment of pens. My gaze snags on the letter opener and I grit my teeth to keep from grabbing it, wanting to destroy everything on this desk and hope that somehow it will purge the years of Momma’s words from my blood until my veins are free from her lies.

  Words that Momma twisted into knots with her tongue and spit into my brain, knowing I’d leave them there to fester.

  My hands shake as they hover above the desk’s top, and I marvel at the deception in the oak’s beauty.

  Perception is reality, indeed.

  I’m here to tell Eli and Sarah that I’m leaving and won’t be planning their wedding, after all. And then I’m packing a suitcase and going with Jax to California. Like most of my decisions, it’s sporadic, but it’s the one part of myself that I know is really me. So even though I don’t have money, I haven’t quit my job, and I haven’t even thought about breaking my rental agreement, I’m going. All those things pale in comparison to what’s tearing at my insides and pushing me out the door.

  If I don’t go now, while my anger is hot and my betrayal is fresh, I may never leave.

  The sound of a throat clearing snaps me out of my daze, and I snatch my hands back, placing them under my thighs to try and stem the tremble. I lock my gaze on Sarah, knowing if I look at Eli, I’ll have to face the other lie I’ve been telling myself. That Jeremy was wrong. That it isn’t me who makes the light dim in Eli’s eyes.

  If I look at Eli, I’ll waver in every decision I’ve ever made, and while there’s so much I’m coming to terms with, I’m not ready to face the truth about him and me.

  Not yet.

  Besides, it’s not fair for me to stay around and muddle up his shot at happiness. This is what Mrs. Carson always wanted for him, and for once in my life, I’m going to step back and do the right thing. Not out of fear, but out of love.

  So I won’t look at Eli.

  And I’ll leave Sugarlake tomorrow, and never see him again.

  I’ll let him go, finally. Because until now, I never really did.

  I drove myself to Sam’s retirement party. I was tempted to skip it altogether, but it’s important for me to be here for a variety of reasons. One being that I need to talk to Lee, tell her that I’m leaving, and the other is this need to show Momma her words don’t affect me.

  But I feel sick.

  The rec hall’s gymnasium is nearly unrecognizable. Long, white tables line the walls, filled to the brim with trays of hors d’oeuvres and platters. There’s a bar set up in the corner, fully equipped with rows of bottles and a bartender ready to pour.

  I head straight there, my mouth watering at the thought of a nice merlot, something to help me get through this night. I’m two steps away from my liquid c
ourage when an arm settles heavy on my shoulders.

  “Hey, sugar, what’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone in a place like this?” Jax’s eyes flash with mirth as he grins, his shaggy blond hair tied up in his signature bun.

  I smirk, rolling my eyes. “Tryin’ to find a gun to put a bullet in my head. This is tedious. You come to save me, Jax? Or you gonna let me find the good booze so I can make it through this hellhole night?” I gesture at the bar.

  He laughs. “Jesus, Becs, it’s a party. Lighten up. Let’s go find Lee and then I’ll get you your drink.”

  I grumble, but let him steer me through the throng of people. I see Lee first, her honey-blonde hair moving with the bob of her head as she talks. And then time slows down and my heart stutters when I see Eli standing across from her.

  “Look at what the cat drug in,” Jax says as we approach them.

  I’m lost in Eli’s gaze, unable to look away, trying to soak in every detail, knowing this is the last time I’ll ever see him.

  His jaw twitches, his arm wrapping around Sarah’s waist, bringing her into his side. When his hand grips her hip, I feel the squeeze in my heart.

  I force my eyes away, looking toward Lee. “What’s up, girl? You find the good booze yet? My chaperone over here made me come find you first.”

  Lee gasps. “How dare he.”

  I grin, a little bit of warmth sneaking into the cracks of my soul. “I know, right? I told him you of all people would understand. Especially in situations like these.”

  I didn’t mean to say the last part, and I hope she doesn’t read into my words. Unfortunately, I’ve always had a shit poker face, and Lee’s always been too perceptive for her own damn good.

  My eyes trail back to Eli before I can control myself, locking on to where he’s wrapped around his fiancée.

  My gut jolts painfully and my throat burns. Suddenly, I’m desperate to explain why I left all those years ago. I ache to fix the breaks I caused from trusting the wrong woman my entire life. Apologize for believing her words when I should have listened to his. To my own.

  But I’m not a homewrecker, and I made my bed years ago when it comes to him.

  “Becca! Hi. Long time no see.” Sarah waves.

  “Hey, Sarah. You’re lookin’ just as pretty as you were this afternoon. A true beauty. Eli’s a lucky man.” My smile is slow, having to fight through the muck of my heart before it can grace my face.

  “The prodigal son returns home,” Jax snarks. His features soften as he greets Sarah. “Hi, I’m Jax. You must be the lucky lady?” He reaches out to shake her hand.

  Sarah’s mouth is slightly parted, her eyes glazed as she stares at him. I bite down the chuckle that tries to escape.

  Everyone who’s anyone is charmed by Jackson Rhoades. There’s just something about his aura—it reaches out and wraps around you, trying to pull you in.

  “Nice to meet you,” Jax says.

  Sarah shakes her head slightly, her eyes regaining their focus as she places her hand in his. “Pleasure’s all mine, and yes, I am. The lucky lady, that is.”

  My heart twists.

  Eli tenses, his arm dropping from her waist.

  “Are you Becca’s boyfriend?” She nods toward me.

  It’s an innocent question, but my body locks in place, my eyes jetting to Eli, searching for a hint of envy. It’s a sick, twisted game I’m playing, but for the life of me I’m not sure how to stop.

  He doesn’t react. And why would he?

  “Ha! He wishes.” I force a laugh, shrugging out from under Jax’s arm, the air suddenly stifling. “I’m gonna go get some air.”

  My heart beats forcefully in my ears, my legs burning from how fast I push through the crowd, making my way outside.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  I sit on the curb to collect myself, breathing in the fresh air. After a few moments, Lee plops down next to me, leaning back on her arms and heaving a sigh. She doesn’t say anything, and neither do I.

  “You wanna talk about it?” she finally asks.

  My chest pulls tight. “How many times do I gotta tell you, there’s nothin’ to talk about?”

  This is my moment. I should spill my secrets and beg for her mercy. But pride is a foolish mistress, one that hangs on even when there’s nothing left. So I don’t.

  “Oh, come off it, Becca. This ain’t you. Anyone with two eyes can tell somethin’ is wrong.”

  More like everything.

  “Is it Eli?”

  My heart jumps and the fear of her knowing trickles through my system. “No.”

  She chews on her lip, taking me in with a critical eye. “You know I don’t believe you, right?”

  I sigh, my eyes scanning the parking lot to avoid her stare. “Your brother has nothin’ to do with me, Lee. That I can promise you.” I squint, focusing on a figure leaning against a black truck. “Hey, ain’t that your man?”

  Lee follows my line of sight and nods, a smile growing on her face. “Yep, that’s my man. I’m gonna go say hi.”

  I let out a breath of relief, thankful for the distraction. Lee stands, dusting off her knees and walking away. She only makes it a few steps before freezing in place.

  My spidey senses tingle and I’m off the curb and by her side in a heartbeat, just in time to see Chase talking to a long-legged, black-haired woman.

  “Who the hell is that?” I ask.

  Lee shakes her head, her eyes wide, and I watch in real time as my best friend’s heart breaks again because dickface of the century is letting some other woman shove her tongue down his throat.

  Once a cheat, always a cheat.

  My hand shoots out to grasp Lee’s arm, holding her up in case she starts to crumble.

  “Asshole!” I yell.

  Chase breaks off the kiss and turns toward us, his eyes growing wide and panicked.

  Rage boils in my veins. When he first came back to town, I warned him to leave her alone—to stay away—knowing she wouldn’t be strong enough to make the decision herself.

  It’s no surprise he didn’t listen. She gave in like I knew she would and I accepted it. I’m not exactly in a place to judge her weakness. Glass houses and all.

  Lee steps back, her face drained of color before she turns and runs. Chase yells after her, following quickly behind.

  Meanwhile, I’m standing in the parking lot lost at what to do.

  Do I go after her? Do I stop him from getting to her?

  I don’t do either. Not because I don’t want to, but because I need to start trusting in Lee’s strength. I’ll be here for her at the end of the night when she needs someone to lean on.

  I walk around the building, not quite ready to face the people inside.

  There’s a back entrance that leads to a hallway behind the gymnasium, filled with empty studios. Lee used to teach dance in one of them, and I know it will serve as a good hiding spot while I build the shield to face my folks, and the rest of Sugarlake, for one last night.

  I grab the handle of the door and twist, when suddenly, heat slides across my back.

  “Looking for somewhere to hide, Rebecca?”

  My body spasms, the deep rumble of Eli’s voice and my full name off his lips cascading over my body and infusing every pore with need.

  His frame hovers against my back and I choke on my breath, my stomach somersaulting on the wings of butterflies. His hands skim my arms, fingertips teasing until he grips the outside of my shoulders. The feel of him is a thousand volts of electricity lancing off my skin.

  It’s the first time we’ve touched in years.

  His breath ghosts along my neck, the ends of his hair tickling my cheek. My core contracts, a sharp ache slicing through my middle. My fingers grip the door handle so tight it hurts.

  “Eli,” I rasp.

  “Tell me why,” he whispers in my ear.

  My heart pounds inside my chest to the beat of my thoughts.

  Tell him.

  My eyes flutter cl
osed.

  “Okay.”

  44

  Eli

  Becca spins, peering at me through her lashes. “What do you wanna know?”

  I shake my head, irritation sparking in my gut. “Don’t do that.”

  My arms cage her in, my hands pressing against the cold metal of the door behind her. I’m desperate to make her feel me, but I’m terrified that once she does I’ll never recover. The whisper of a touch I’ve already given her is almost more than I can handle. “Stop pretending like you don’t know exactly what I’m asking you.”

  She glances down and exhales a shaky breath. I grip under her chin without thinking, static running through my fingertips as I tilt her face back to mine. “I deserve to know.”

  “I just—” Her hand comes up, knotting in the curls on her head. She tries to duck under one of my arms. I slide it down so she can’t.

  She huffs. “Can I get some space?”

  My jaw clenches. “No.”

  “I can’t breathe with you this close, Eli. I need… I need some damn space, please.”

  Funny. I haven’t been able to breathe since she stole my breath five years ago. I’m still waiting to get it back.

  “No,” I repeat, my voice low.

  She meets my eyes, the pull of her gaze hooking into my chest and tugging, trying to tether us together. “Why the hell not?”

  Her question chafes the damaged pieces of my soul. I exhale slowly, my nostrils flaring. “Because I’m afraid you’ll leave.”

  She sighs, her eyes turning glassy. I hate the way my heart pinches at the sight.

  “I won’t leave,” she whispers. “I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know.” Her hands push against my chest, branding my skin through the fabric. “Please, I can’t breathe with you so close. It’s—”

  “You think I can?” I snap, gripping her wrists and hauling her against me. “You think it’s been easy for me to be around you all this time?”

  I tighten my grip and step into her, pushing her body against the door with my torso. “You think it hasn’t killed me to stand in your presence and remember the feel of having you in my arms? To realize that even after all these years…” My voice cracks and I grit my teeth, fighting the burn behind my eyes. “After all the pain you’ve inflicted, you still light my goddamn body on fire?”