by Sam Mariano
Dammit, Derek.
“You’re just in time,” Pam tells me. “We made margaritas. You want one?”
“I shouldn’t,” I say, shaking my head.
“Go ahead,” Derek tells me. “Have fun.”
“You know I do stupid things when I drink,” I mutter at him.
“Like me,” he says, smirking. “You’re already going to do me tonight whether you drink or not, so you might as well.”
“Derek,” I mutter, flushing.
“He’s so bad,” Pam says, laughing.
She doesn’t even know. “He really, really is.”
“Come get a margarita,” Joanna insists, turning and heading back to the garage.
I don’t know why it doesn’t occur to me that following the women means I’ll be separated from Derek, but that’s what happens. I almost tell them never mind so I can follow him. When I’m out of my element like this, I don’t want to be off on my own with the women. Derek is the one who forced me to come to this—he should be keeping me company the whole time, dammit.
“So, Nikki, how long have you and Derek been a thing?” Pam asks congenially.
Oh, my God, that’s the first question? Is the next one about marriage and babies?
“Pam, give the poor girl a minute to get comfortable before you start interrogating her,” Joanna says, slowing down to walk next to me. “Don’t mind her. She’s aggressively friendly, and sometimes that just comes off as aggressive. I love your beach bag,” she says, looking down at it. “So cute. Tommy and I are taking the boys to the beach for family vacation later this month, I should get one of these. Does it have pockets?”
I’m already so uncomfortable I want to flee, so if she wants to talk about a beach bag, I am more than happy to do that.
The next few minutes pass by like hours. My insides itch, standing in this crowd of women I don’t know. Talking to strangers for work I can do, no problem. Socializing with people is another story entirely. After we arrive, another girl I went to school with shows up—Courtney, one of Steph and Kayla’s friends. She has a bearded man and a toddler girl on her hip.
Will Stephanie be here? Derek would have prepared me for that, right?
Just being around these people I know were Kayla’s friends makes it impossible to fit in with them. Since they’ve all been friends since high school, I bet Derek and Kayla used to hang out with them the way we are today. I’m probably here in her place, and a much less fun replacement. I never liked Kayla, but she sure was a social butterfly.
I down the margarita in record time. My brain tells me to slow down, but my nerves tell me to keep going. Joanna seems nice. She’s a nurse, and apparently Tommy works construction with Derek now. She sticks by my side and talks to me, trying to make me more comfortable. I do remember her from school. I can’t remember what crowd she hung out with then, but not theirs. Tommy was one of Derek’s friends though, so I guess when they got together she was merged in.
He has all the same friends. How is that even possible? It has been six whole years, and the guys he’s laughing with right now are the same assholes he hung out with back then. Who keeps all of their friends for that length of time? It’s unfathomable to me. I don’t even know how one juggles that many friends in the first place, but to keep them all?
When I finish my first margarita, I grab a second. My nerves are a little calmer, but I don’t know if it’s from the margarita, or Joanna kindly talking me through my social awkwardness.
Mallory has disappeared. She started talking to everyone but me when she came back from playing with Cassidy, but now I realize she’s missing. I hate that I’m keeping an eye on her, but I am. I remember this feeling keenly, and boy, did I not miss it at all.
Sure enough, when I find her in the yard, she’s standing over by the guys, lingering near Derek. Narrowing my eyes, I push up off the patio chair next to Joanna. I grab my margarita, take a drink, and head over there myself. I have no plan, no idea why, and my brain tells me it’s stupid, but I want her away from him. I want to throw her face-first into the kiddie pool.
Ryan spots me first. Unsubtly, he reaches over and smacks Derek on the arm, then lifts his head in my direction. Oh, he needs a warning that I’m coming? Nice. Really nice. I hate men.
Derek glances over at me. An easy smile transforms his face and he pats the tops of his thighs. “Get over here, you.”
If not for Mallory standing here, I would probably decline. Since she is, I sit on his lap and sink back into his embrace, wrapping my free arm around his neck and kissing him. When I break away, he kisses the tip of my nose and keeps holding me close. “Enjoying that margarita?” he asks, lightly amused.
“It’s pretty yummy,” I tell him.
“Better than mine?” Ryan asks, good-naturedly.
Finding a nugget of charm I didn’t think I had, I assure him, “Of course not, Ryan. No one makes margaritas better than you.”
Ryan laughs, approving of my ego stroke. “That’s right. I like this one, Derek.”
“Me too,” Derek says, winking at me.
As if interrupting us is a physical need, Mallory bursts out with, “Are you guys coming to the 4th of July bash together?”
“Haven’t discussed the fourth yet,” Derek says, his tone chilly, like her voice annoys him. I remember that tone. He used to use it on me when he wanted to make me feel small.
“I just wondered,” she says. “It was so much fun last year. Me and Cassie really had fun playing together, so I was hoping you guys would come again. Oh, and you too, Nikki, if you’re still around,” she says to me.
Leaning back against Derek’s arm, I can’t help laughing. “Calm down, Mallory,” I tell her. “We’re not married; you still have a chance.”
Her face flushes.
“No, you don’t,” Derek snaps, his tone completely devoid of patience.
She flushes more. “You don’t have to be an asshole,” she tells him.
Leveling a cold look her way, he says, “I do. I have to eat, I have to drink, I have to fuck, and I have to be an asshole. That’s the complete breakdown of my needs.”
Mallory rolls her eyes in disgust and walks away.
She’ll be back. Curling close to Derek and sipping my margarita, I tell him, “I don’t like her.”
“Didn’t expect you would. Didn’t know she’d be here.”
I wrinkle up my nose with displeasure. Him not wanting her here is basically verification they have a history. Not knowing he’d been single for four damn years, I was only prepared for Kayla. Now I’m wondering how many other random women out there have been with Derek.
“Did you sleep with her?”
“Oh, shit, would you look at that?” Ryan says, sounding startled. “My beer’s empty. You gentlemen wanna go get beers with me?”
Derek sighs, watching them all flee.
“Why do you have to be such a ho?” I ask him.
Cracking a smile, he says, “I am not a ho. I didn’t sleep with Mallory. She has a thing for me, but it is not reciprocated.”
“Yes, I can see that. Is there some reason she thinks she has a chance with you, even though you’re blatantly mean to her?”
“One night we both had too much to drink and we made out a little. It was nothing.”
“She doesn’t seem to agree with you. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if somewhere in her bedroom there is a wedding binder with your name doodled all over it. And what’s with her knowing Cassidy? You said you didn’t bring girls around Cassidy.”
“I don’t,” he says, lazily running his fingers up and down my arm. “She’s friends with Pam, so she hangs around. She sees all the kids. She’s just paying more attention to Cassie today because she wants to drive you crazy.”
“It’s working. I’m going to shove her into the pool next time she mean mugs me,” I inform him.
Nodding his approval, he says, “You should. Let me know it’s happening so I can watch. Just call out ‘Derek’ no matter what
’s going on. I’ll turn to look and I’ll get to see. It’ll be great.”
“I hate that you make it so impossible to like other girls. Why do you always have to do this? It’s Kayla all over again.”
“This is not Kayla all over again,” he tells me. “It’s some girl with a crush. I can’t help that.”
“You could have not made out with her,” I inform him. “That probably would have been a big help.”
Nodding in acknowledgement, he says, “Okay, you got me there. I was lonely.”
Even though I still vaguely want to knee him in the balls, the idea of him lonely softens me up. Sighing, I take another sip of my margarita, then grab the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss.
“You taste like strawberry,” he murmurs against my mouth.
“Margarita kisses,” I tell him.
“I like margarita kisses,” he says, taking the drink out of my hand and putting it on the slatted wood table next to him. Then he grabs my hips and lifts me, repositioning me so I’m straddling him.
Sighing with displeasure, I drag my hand down the front of his soft T-shirt, running my fingers along the hard planes of his chest. “You’re too sexy. I want to fuck you.”
Smirking, he asks, “Does that annoy you?”
I nod my head, grinding against him despite my annoyance.
Groaning, he says, “Please don’t give me a hard-on right here.”
“I’d fuck you right here if there weren’t kids around,” I inform him, catching his lower lip between mine and sucking on it. “Really give Mallory a show.”
Grinning, he pulls my hips tightly against his. “You riding my cock sounds like a great plan. How about we meet in the bathroom in five minutes and make it happen?”
“It’s a date,” I tell him, kissing him one more time before climbing off him and retrieving my margarita. I head back to the ladies, even though Mallory is among them now. She carefully avoids my gaze, but her whole body vibrates with tense energy, like just being around me is a struggle for her. Now that Derek and I have a tryst set up, it bothers me less. So she kissed him before he found me again. A kiss isn’t anything.
I down the rest of my margarita and when I see Derek heading in the house, I approach Joanna and lean in. “Hey, can you keep an eye on Cassidy for a few minutes? I need to run in the house.”
“Yeah, of course. Where’s Derek?”
Smiling faintly, I say, “Already in the house.”
Her eyebrows rise and she nods, getting the picture. “Ah, okay. Yes, no problem. You kids have fun.”
Chapter Twenty Nine
As I step inside the kitchen and close the sliding glass door behind me, it occurs to me that I don’t know where the bathroom is. There may even be more than one bathroom—would he go to the one downstairs, since that’s where guests would probably go, or upstairs, for privacy? As I’m wandering past the kitchen table, Derek emerges from around the corner, grabs my waist and yanks me close.
Excitement courses through me and I smile up at him, running my fingers through his hair. “There you are, lurking in the shadows.”
“Like a predator waiting for his prey,” he teases.
“You’re my favorite predator,” I inform him, before brushing my lips against his. “Now, where’s this bathroom?”
Instead of answering, he backs me up until my back meets wallpaper-covered drywall. He plants one palm on the wall and cups my face with the other, leaning into me and giving me the sort of kiss that makes me breathless.
Then again, all his kisses make me breathless.
My head is just tingly enough that I can have fun; I’m just the right level of blissful to commit to this very bad idea, then the sliding door closes with more force than it did a moment ago, and it all goes to shit.
“Don’t mind me,” Mallory says.
Her voice is like water dumped over my head. Derek sighs, bowing his head. I watch her walk around the counter and head for the fridge.
“Just getting the kids more juice boxes, then I’ll be on my way,” she calls out.
I want to hold my tongue, but—actually, no, I don’t. “Are you the designated babysitter, or…?”
With a fake smile, she tells me, “Someone’s gotta take care of them.”
“I think they’re doing all right,” I assure her.
Ignoring me, Mallory addresses Derek. “Cassie just said the cutest thing, Derek. Remember when we went down to that nature trail a while back and taught her to skip rocks on the water?”
“Stop it, Mallory,” he warns.
“What?” she asks innocently.
“You know what.”
Clearly agitated, she shakes her head, her cheeks a little flushed. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
“You’re being a bitch to Nikki, and I don’t like it.”
Her face reveals the sort of stunned betrayal that looks genuine. I remember that feeling, too, and it sends a wave of discomfort slithering down my spine.
What if Mallory isn’t in the wrong here? What if Derek is lying to me? It’s not like he’s never lied before. If he’s not lying, she’s a psycho, but if he is, this girl is probably legitimately confused by his coldness. I know he’s not above playing these games, because he used to play me and Kayla against each other. I know exactly how cruel he can be. I know the damage he can do to your heart when he turns on a dime and shreds you with his indifference. The girl holding a package of unopened juice boxes right now definitely looks like he just sliced her open.
And if he doesn’t bring girls around Cassidy, why was Mallory at some nature trail with him, teaching Cassidy to skip rocks? That’s exactly the sort of thing we would do with her.
I can’t stand here anymore. Ducking under Derek’s arm, I move away from him and toward the sliding doors.
“Hey,” he says, grabbing the skirt of my swimsuit and tugging me back. “Where are you going?”
“Back outside.”
“Why?”
I shake my head and push his hand off my skirt, walking outside instead of fumbling for a coherent reason. What I really want to do is leave, but I can’t. I don’t fit in here, I don’t want to fit in here, and doubting Derek reminds me of the worst parts of having him in my life.
“Nikki, wait,” he says, following me out on the patio. “Stop. Talk to me.”
He catches my arm, but I pull out of his grasp just as fast. “I don’t want to. This is exactly what I didn’t want to deal with, Derek. This is exactly why I told you I didn’t want to come here. This is not hook-up stuff, this is girlfriend stuff. This is relationship stuff. I don’t have time for a relationship, and if I did, you’re the last person any woman in her right mind would want one with. I’ve seen how you play, Derek. I let you drive me crazy with your bullshit once. I’m not going crazy a second time. I refuse. Say what you will about Henry, I never had to deal with shit like this with him.”
“Oh, please,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Do not compare me to that fucking suit. I know you love your chickenshit safe picks, Nikki, but let’s be fucking realistic here; there’s no comparison.”
“You are so full of yourself,” I tell him, shaking my head. “You’re not God’s gift to the world.”
Shaking his head, he says, “Yeah, I know, Nikki, I’m the worst thing to ever happen to you. I’ve heard.”
“I want to go home,” I tell him.
“No.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I repeat dangerously, “No?”
“That’s right, no.”
“You’re not my boss,” I inform him.
“Nope, but I am your ride, and I’m not going watch you run away again. I didn’t do anything this time, Nikki. You’re looking for a reason to push me away right now, I get it, but I did not give you one.”
“I don’t need a reason. We are not in a relationship. This is literally why we are not in a relationship, Derek. I can walk away if I don’t like the way you tie your shoes. I don’t need a reason to stop coming around.
We are not committed to each other in any way.”
“And yet you flip the fuck out because I kissed someone else when I didn’t even know if I’d ever see you again. That makes perfect sense.”
I roll my eyes at his accusation. “Yeah, because that’s exactly what happened. Way to rewrite history, Derek.”
“I’m trying my damndest to rewrite history, Nikki, and you’re doing your damndest to stop me.” We’re starting to draw attention, so Derek makes a point to lower his voice, pushing his hand through his hair. “Look, I know I didn’t handle things right before. I know that. I let a lot shit happen when I should have put my foot down. I should have stood up for you. I should have protected us ahead of all that other shit. I didn’t know that then, but I paid the damn price, Nikki. You fucking left me. You walked right out of my life. I got the message—not good enough. And I’m trying my damndest to be good enough for you this time, but you’re even more closed off now than you were back then, and I’m having a really hard time getting through that. You’re ready to leave me because I didn’t answer a fucking hypothetical question the right way, Nikki. How do I prove myself to you when you don’t want me to?”
Shaking my head, I try to figure out what to tell him. I don’t know if the problem is that I can’t, or I won’t. I can only tell him the same thing so many times. Derek and I have the same problems now we had when we met. Maybe these are the same problems we will always have. I wanted to keep my distance when he forced me to hook up with him back then, when he burrowed under my walls since he couldn’t get through them, when he tricked me into a relationship. I insisted there wasn’t more to it, I insisted we were only hooking up—friends with benefits at most, and here I am again. He’s doing it all over again, the difference is the first time he had the benefit of the doubt. I didn’t know for a fact our story would end in that kind of pain, but I don’t have that excuse this time. Now I know how the ride ends, because we’re hitting all the same destinations, only a few years later and with a child in the back seat.
“I can’t do this,” I tell him quietly. “You don’t want string-free and casual. You want more than I can ever offer you, Derek. This isn’t like before. Like you said, I am more closed off now. I do have more defenses up than I did then, and do you remember how hard I fought you even then?” Shaking my head, meeting his gaze with sorrow and sympathy and everything in between. “You won’t win this time, Derek. I know too much. I’ll never let you.”
