Thanks to You

by Kelsey Cheyenne

  I’ve never been much of a dog person – I know, I know – don’t crucify me. They’re just so much work. They require so much attention. Plus, the shedding and the drooling – no thanks, I’ll pass. And now on my list of dog offenses I can add: tackles strangers to the ground and licking them – because apparently, that’s a freaking thing. Gross.

  “Since when did your parents get a dog?” Apparently, Hailey doesn’t hear my question because my voice is so strained from being crushed under a 100-pound dog. Why didn’t the dog pounce on her? Why did she get to walk in without being attacked?

  “Jolie! Bad girl!” I hear Hunter’s voice in my proximity but I have yet to see him because, again, the beast is lying on top of me.

  Next thing I know the dog is lifted off of me, and I can breathe again. Hallelujah. I sit up so I can lean over to where I placed Mittens’ crate and open it so she can run free. Standing up, I dust the dirt and dog hair off my clothes. I notice Hunter is holding Jolie like a baby on his freaking hip. “Jolie? I figured it would be named Cujo.”

  Hailey is standing beside her brother, petting the dog like it’s the cutest thing in the world. “But she’s my pretty girl, right, Jolie?” He allows the dog to lick up the side of his entire face, from jaw to temple. I don’t know if I’m swooning at his baby talk voice or thoroughly disgusted.

  He puts the beast down and holds her by the pink, heart-covered collar so she doesn’t charge me again. “What is that thing, a 100-pound bear cub?”

  He squints his eyes at me and looks down at his dog like he’s trying to understand what I’m seeing. “Have you never seen a German shepherd before? She’s like, sixty pounds, relax.”

  I huff in irritation. “When did you get a dog? Is it a puppy? Shouldn’t she be trained to, I don’t know, not attack people?”

  “I just got her. She’s a rescue. Picked her up at the pound as soon as I got back into town.” He sounds so proud. I guess adopting a dog is great and all, but my irritation is outweighing my awe.

  “I’m surprised the pound didn’t mistake you for a feral beast and lock you up in a cage.”

  He merely smirks at my insult which thoroughly irritates me. “Good to see you too, Squirt.” He ruffles my hair as he walks away with the beast. Hailey is trying her damnedest to not bust up laughing at the mention of my nickname. They’re both jerks.

  ***

  I hear a knock on the door of the bedroom I’m staying in for the next week. I’m in the bathroom unpacking my toiletries and assume it’s Hailey, so I yell for her to come in. However, when I come out of the bathroom I’m met with Hunter casually leaning against the doorjamb, waiting for me. “Oh, hi.”

  My first encounter with Hunter wasn’t exactly the interaction I was hoping for. You know when you’re in kindergarten and you’re told boys are only mean to you if they like you? Well, I don’t think I ever grew out of that stage. I’m twenty-two years old and my default setting is heavy sarcasm, and I consider it to be flirting. What the hell is wrong with me?

  I’m flustered from being taken off guard. I want to say something witty and flirty, but all I can come up with are more insults about his dog. I don’t think I’ll get any brownie points that way.

  I didn’t get a chance to really see Hunter when Hailey and I first arrived, which means I didn’t get a chance to admire him. His hair is shorter now, more styled and less shagged but still long enough to tug on…not that I’ll ever get the chance. Even in a simple bomber jacket, white t-shirt, and jeans he looks sexy and casual. I feel the need to wipe my mouth in case I’m actually drooling at the sight of him.

  “Wh-what’s up, Hunter?”

  “Hailey wants to go out tonight to see everyone from high school or whatever. I said I’d be the designated driver. You in?” He doesn’t exactly seem excited to be DD at a bar with a bunch of newly legal drinkers, and I can’t say I blame him.

  There’s a very large part of me that has absolutely no interest in going to a bar and reminiscing with all the bitches I went to high school with. The entire scene is so fake. Plus, I’ll have to deal with everyone’s pity over the death of my parents. Seeing pity in people’s eyes never gets easier.

  But on the other hand, this may be my only opportunity to prove to Hunter that I’m not just Squirt anymore, to show him I’m a grown woman. “Hell yeah, I’m in.”

  Chapter 3

  Mackenzie

  Hailey, Hunter, and I have dinner with their parents before embarking on our night out. Watching Brad and Veronica Blake is like watching a love story straight out of a 1950’s sitcom. It’s as if I’m watching a private show. I shouldn’t bear witness to these intimate moments, but I also don’t want to miss them. They’re ridiculously in love and I’m incredibly envious. I yearn for a man to look at me the way Mr. Blake looks at his wife.

  Mr. Blake is some big tech whiz, and Mrs. Blake spends her days volunteering at a local charity. I don’t say that pretentiously or to explain how rich and luxurious their lives are. Yes, they are rich and successful, but that doesn’t even begin to cover who they truly are. They’re two of the best people I know and they’re incredibly thoughtful, passionate, and giving.

  They fuss over me as if I’m one of their own children, and it makes me miss my parents all the more. The holidays are always incredibly difficult, but somehow the crazy environment at my aunt’s house distracted me. Being in the Blake house, with a normal family and normal traditions, makes my heart ache terribly.

  Mrs. Blake cooked a three-course meal and Mr. Blake complimented her extravagant efforts. Her cheeks turn a lovely rosy pink while she tries to hide behind a curtain of perfectly coiffed caramel curls. She looks away, toying with the pearls around her neck. It’s almost sickening how precious and incredibly in love they are.

  All throughout dinner, I kept thinking of what happened to Hunter and his fiancée. Then his mom kept asking him when he was going to have kids. She was smirking the entire time, obviously joking and just pushing his buttons. My mind went there and I immediately felt my face flushing.

  Hunter, on the other hand, didn’t find the lighthearted conversation endearing. He dropped his fork and stopped eating mid-bite. He got up from the table immediately, loudly scraping his chair against the hardwood floors with his abrupt exit.

  “Well, how about you, Mackenzie. Have you met the right guy yet?” There’s a glimmer in her eyes I can’t quite understand as she flashes me her pearly whites.

  I giggle uncomfortably. Little does she know I want her son to be my one. “No, nobody has caught my eye quite yet.” I take another bite of my dessert, it’s a massive and delicious fruit sorbet, mostly to occupy my mouth and hopefully avoid answering any more awkward questions. Mrs. Blake and Hailey exchange a look with one another and glance back at me. I choose to ignore them and devour my dessert.

  After dinner, Hailey and I get ready for our night out on the town. We’re heading to our local bar where we’re sure to run into everyone we went to high school with. I’m definitely dreading this night more than I’m looking forward to it. On the bright side, I’ll be able to get drunk to deal with everyone.

  “Does this outfit look like I’m trying too hard?” Naturally, I want to look good if I’m potentially running into a bunch of people I knew from school and was never particularly fond of. But there’s a line I don’t want to cross. My ripped up black jeans are skin tight, and I paired them with black chunky-heeled ankle boots. My top, though, is what I’m worried about. It’s a coral-colored backless halter top that ties into a bow around my hips.

  I hear Hunter mumble, “Yes” at the same time Hailey says, “Girl, no, you look hot.” I decide to believe my best friend and instead try my damnedest to ignore her idiot brother. Who cares what he thinks? No, more importantly, why do I care what he thinks?

  After an incredibly too-short twenty minute drive, Hunter pulls into the parking lot of the bar, and I immediately see it’s packed. We park in an unmarked spot that probably isn’t legal, but we do
n’t have any other option. I’m beginning to feel incredibly nervous and self-conscious, not only because of my outfit, but also due to the possibility of who I might run into.

  I’m walking behind Hailey as we enter the bar; close enough I can smell the floral-scented perfume she sprayed on her neck. Hunter follows behind me into the building with his hand on my lower back. My exposed lower back that feels to be approximately one million degrees as the result of his touch.

  Hailey is happily greeting and hugging everyone in sight while I quietly nod a silent hello from over her shoulder. Next thing I know, I feel as if I’m suffocating in a cloud of Axe body spray. Who knew guys even still wore that stuff? The scent causes my mind to flood with a thousand vivid memories that seemingly appear in a picture reel in front of my eyes – all the good and bad moments hitting me like a semi-truck. I know it’s him I smell before I even see him.

  “Hey, Kenzie.” I turn around to look at him. His eyes widen as he does a very obvious once-over down my body. “Wow, you look great.” Spencer fucking Smith. Goddamnit.

  “Hi, Spencer.” I grit my teeth so hard I think I chip a tooth as irritation floods my veins.

  Spencer was my high school sweetheart – or so I thought. We dated for three years, from sophomore year until our freshman year of college. He had to leave for school early because he was going to be playing college football, which meant training and practices started in the early summer.

  I went to visit him over Thanksgiving break. He wasn’t able to come home because of his football schedule, and since I just lost my parents I wanted to be with someone I loved. I was attending the University of Pennsylvania, but he was going to the University of Pittsburgh, nearly five hours away. I showed up unannounced at the dorm room of a hot new freshman football prodigy only to find him screwing some blonde cheerleader bitch. He always had a thing for blondes. I even dyed my hair once to surprise him. He said I didn’t look like myself, but managed to spin those words into a compliment. I was so fucking stupid back then.

  Needless to say, we broke up over Thanksgiving, less than two months after my parents died. Spencer wasn’t all bad – they never are. He was kind and doting when we were together. He drove home for my parents’ funeral despite it being homecoming weekend, which meant he missed his big game. He just made a shitty decision with shitty timing. He apologized profusely, but it was too late for that. I was already shut off emotionally to avoid feeling the pain of our breakup. But that was when I really started spiraling.

  Looking at Spencer after nearly three years apart, I still see the appeal. If I’m being honest, he looks really good. But he looks almost sheepish with his hands in his pockets and his boyish grin still sitting crooked on his face, just like I remember.

  “Can we talk? I’ve missed you, Kenz.” He nods his head to one side, indicating he wants me to follow him. I oblige though I’m sure to regret it.

  He leads me to the opposite side of the room, away from the bar to where it’s quieter and less crowded. His hand is resting on my back, the same spot where Hunter’s hand burned the same patch of skin only moments ago. Though, with Spencer’s hand, I feel nothing but slight pressure, like the epidermis of my lower back had been seared off from Hunter’s touch.

  I turn to Spencer, ready to make this conversation as quick and painless as possible. He’s all smiles, like the Joker, and I’m waiting for him to ask me why I’m so serious. He grabs my hands, lacing his fingers through mine like he used to a lifetime ago. I look down at our intertwined fingers and back up to his face. And there’s the regret. It’s gonna be a long night.

  Chapter 4

  Hunter

  I’m a walking fucking cliché. Not only do I want my little sister’s best friend in the same way a little kid desperately wants ice cream for dinner, but I’m staring after her, pining as she walks away with some prick. The guy won’t stop touching her or blatantly staring at her ass while her hips swing back and forth in front of him.

  “Hunt.” My sister’s voice breaks my focus. I swivel my head around to where she’s standing behind me. I’m embarrassed. She just caught me longing for Kenzie like some pussy.

  She gives me a knowing look. She’s the cat who caught the fucking canary. “Here, I think you need this more than I do.” She hands me a shot glass full of clear liquor, it just smells like bad decisions.

  “I’m DD. I can’t drink.” Though it looks damn tempting right now.

  She rolls her eyes and shakes her head as if she’s saying, Oh, Hunter, so naïve. “So we’ll call an Uber or Mom and Dad can come pick us up. You need to let loose a little, or you won’t make it through the night.” I consider my options, but ultimately I take the shot. It’s tequila with an aftertaste of regret.

  I glance back to where Kenzie is standing with the prick, but they’re both gone. I hear her girlish giggle at the bar behind me and – yup – there she is, taking shot after shot with him.

  I don’t know what’s coming over me. She’s not mine, she has never been, and I just got out of a very serious – the most serious relationship. But seeing her all grown up and looking like that – the outfit with her long strawberry blonde locks flowing tantalizingly down her back, just waiting to be tugged.

  Has she always been so…curvy? And sexy? How have I never noticed before? Yet, here she is, storming back into my life like a fiery, destructive natural disaster and turning everything upside down. Even my dog has a crush on her.

  Still, she’s six years younger than me and my little sister’s best friend. I mean, we grew up together – I remember her being in diapers. But then why do I want to punch the shit out of the asshole she’s with just for looking at her like she’s a damn snack and he’s a starving man?

  At some point over the course of my admittedly obsessive staring, she must’ve agreed to dance with him. They’re in the middle of the makeshift dance floor gyrating dangerously close to one another but I can’t look away. My hands curl into fists and my jaw starts to hurt from clenching my teeth together so hard.

  “Did…did you just growl?” Hailey’s face changed from playful mocking to utterly shocked and, truthfully, maybe a little disturbed.

  I didn’t even realize I produced a noise until she called me out on it. I turn away from the Mackenzie and douchebag show to face the bartender. I order another shot and down it quickly; the burn is therapeutic in consoling my anger.

  I’m twenty-fucking-eight years old. I’ve been through too much shit within the past year. I should be having fun and screwing random chicks, not obsessing over my little sister’s best friend. I shouldn’t give two shits about the prick she’s with, but she’s mine.

  Fuck. There I go again. I run a hand through my hair and try to grasp at why I keep thinking of Kenz as mine. She’s not mine. She’s not mine. It’s the most pathetic mantra I’m repeating in my head and the thought it making me sick, so I improve it. She’s not mine yet.

  “Who’s that guy she’s with, anyway?” He looks familiar but I can’t place him.

  “That’s Spencer, remember, her ex-boyfriend? They dated for like, three years? I’m pretty sure you met him multiple times.” Once Hailey says his name I remember everything.

  They started dating after he took her to that homecoming dance. I remember overhearing a conversation between Mackenzie and Hailey when they were juniors in high school that he took her ‘v-card’ as they called it. I cringed, not wanting to think about my little sister sleeping with some ungrateful asshole.

  But now I’m thinking the same thing in regard to Spencer. I’m envious he touched her and knows every intimate detail about her insanely sexy body. He was stupid enough to let her go once. I’ll be damned if I let him get another chance.

  ***

  Ow. I wake up to the hangover from hell and a foggy memory of the night before. I haven’t drank like that since college and – fuck. Is there a girl in my bed? There’s a definite depression beside me on the bed, and I can feel her moving. She must’ve rolled towa
rd me because she’s...breathing on me. Damn, her breath stinks.

  I’m afraid to open my eyes because I don’t know what I’ll be opening them to. I reach my arm across my king bed and feel hair. A lot of it. I pray to God I’m touching her hair and not a bush below.

  Slowly I open my eyes and my retinas are screaming from the intrusion of light. I turn my head to the right and thank fuck it’s just Jolie in my bed. The last thing I need is for my parents to see a one-night stand leaving my bedroom. Or for Mackenzie to.

  “You gotta go out, pretty girl?” Jolie and I stick to the same routine every morning. I let her out, then I feed her, then together we go for a nice long run. Today we may just have to trade out that run for a walk if this headache doesn’t subside, and quickly.

  I grab my phone to check the time and see five unread texts from Alison. Fuck. Don’t tell me I drunk texted her. I’m a twenty-eight-year-old man. I shouldn’t be drunk texting anyone but especially not her.

  Alison: you’re drunk

  Alison: I miss you baby

  Alison: maybe we gave up too easily

  Alison: I’ll call you tomorrow

  Alison: I love you Hunt

  Fuck. Me. I scroll through my sent messages, and luckily I didn’t claim to love her or ask for her back. But I did send her a myriad of messages asking for a booty call. And one Snapchat, and I don’t even want to think about what that entailed. Just fucking awesome. Thank God she’s in another state and not easily accessible. I’ll deal with her later.

  I’m rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, and I’m still half out of it as I step into the hallway to take care of Jolie. I nearly run into Kenzie fully dressed and fresh-faced. Well, she’s wearing a hoodie but she still looks amazing. I feel like death, and she looks like sunshine. And I think she drank me under the table last night, how the hell is she not hungover?