The Wilson Mooney Box Set

by Gretchen de La O

  The muscles across my neck and back, down to my legs, tensed. I could feel the ache of wanting to give up creep into my body and I fought to keep it away.

  “What the hell am I going to do? Maybe I should just go back over there, bust through the front door, and tell Nancy I’m not the ho she thinks I am. Make him see I’m better than any of those girls at Wesley. I am just as better as them…just as bet—” I felt my body release and camber toward Nick. The room began to spin and swirl into my chest.

  “Come on, Wilson, sit down,” Nick cooed as he pushed me toward the chair. His hands slid down across my hips to the back of my thighs. The heat of his hands built a comfort and a memory of being with Max just the day before.

  “Put your arms around my neck,” he whispered.

  I wrapped my hands around his neck and I felt my feet leave the floor. I tightened against his chest and felt my body drop onto the chair. I didn’t let go. I was still spinning and I knew if I let go I’d probably fall over.

  “Hold on, Max,” I mumbled.

  “I’m not Max…I’m Nick,” he exhaled before he let go and left me sitting there. I dropped my head to the counter and felt the coolness of the stone begin to radiate the heat of my skin. I slid my hands across, allowing the chill of the granite to take over my arms. Nick’s iPhone vibrated silently against the countertop and my heart tumbled down into my gut. I pushed my hand into my pocket and pulled out my own phone. No calls, no texts. I slipped it back into my pocket and stared at the iPhone dancing and jumping in front of me. I blinked, trying to clear the vision of a couple of phones stacked jaggedly. It vibrated again. Someone’s really trying to get ahold of him. What if it’s Calvin? Or Cindy? How bad would it be if I just glanced at it? Just to see who texted him…

  A long moment, wondering what I should do, seemed to pass before I reached out and pulled Nick’s iPhone down into my view. A cold chill flooded my skin. My mouth rushed dry and my eyes barely opened, burned waterless from trying to focus. I concentrated, trying to see who it was from, but my eyes wouldn’t cooperate. Finally, I picked up the phone and held it close to my face. It was from Calvin. I knew it. Maybe now I’ll get a straight answer. Now Nick can’t skate the question when I show him Calvin called.

  I jostled the phone in my hand and stumbled off in the direction Nick went. I found him inside the huge walk-in liquor room/storehouse. Just one of the many outrageous things the Browlers had at their cabin. No joke, their liquor storage room was the size of a master bedroom and it was filled with any type of alcohol you’d ever want. Refrigerated units for different types of beer, wine, and any other alcohol best served chilled, lined the back wall. There were several rows of floor to ceiling shelving that created actual aisles that you had to walk up and down, just like in a real liquor store. On one side there were all types of wines; on the other side, hard liquor and mixtures.

  I sidled around the corner of the hard liquor shelving and found Nick standing toward the end. He was staring straight ahead, and I noticed he was taking some deep breaths. He was leaning forward with his hands clenched, white, to the shelf in front of him. I heard him mumbling something under his breath. He adjusted his weight back and forth.

  “What are you—why are you standing in here?” I stammered in a loud attempted whisper as my body swayed in waves. He jumped.

  “Ahh, shit, you scared me,” Nick snapped. He looked nervous, almost uncomfortable. “I’m just thinking maybe I shouldn’t have given you so much rum.”

  Maybe he shouldn’t have, because every time I tried to focus, both Nicks were looking blurry to me.

  I adjusted his iPhone in my hand and went over to him. I could tell as I got closer, and he merged to being one Nick, he was still brooding over my earlier approach. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t fair of me to blurt out questions about Calvin and Max. But how else am I going to find out about what’s happening at the Goldsteins’? Nobody’s calling me, nobody’s coming to get me. I was lost in a sea of miscommunication and I thought Nick just might be the only person to throw me a lifeline.

  He dropped his head, leaving me to look at the top of his wavy, brown hair. He made sure to keep his eyes focused on the floor, like he was trying to keep all his secrets.

  “You got a couple of messages,” I said as I held his phone out to him.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled before he dragged his hands down the bottles on the shelf and grabbed his phone. He glanced at the screen before he started to put it in his pocket.

  “Don’t—they’re from Calvin. Don’t leave me blind here. I’m sorry I hurt you. Please, Nick, just tell me what he said. What if they’re about Max?”

  Nick looked at me before looking at his phone. His eyes told a story of regret before he tapped the screen and read the text messages from Calvin—out loud.

  “Thanks for letting me know Wilson is okay,” Nick read slowly.

  “I’m not okay...”

  “Wilson, he’s responding to my earlier text, when you passed out.”

  “Then what does the second text say?”

  Nick glanced at me before tapping and sliding his finger to the second text from Calvin.

  “Burying…dad…tomorrow…memorial…after…more…details…later,” Nick spoke each world slowly. His face dropped white. His finger was still frozen above the phone as he looked up at me.

  Suddenly I was sober. I felt the lines in my face deepen and the muscles in my neck constrict. My heart stuttered for the loss of not being a part of Max’s family—something I wanted more than air. My eyes welled with tears over thoughts of Max going on without me. My lungs crumpled under the pressure and I lost my breath. From the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, a crushing charge of freezing loneliness hammered through my entire body.

  Nick noticed how much the cluster of words in Calvin’s text drowned me in a language of loss and pain.

  “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have read it out loud,” Nick said as his eyes wandered back to mine from the screen of his phone.

  My body was vibrating, ready and willing to collapse in the vacant hole reserved for moments like this. I struggled to hold myself together and respond.

  “I—needed to hear—it. Now I understand—the Goldstein’s don’t want me there. I get it,” I struggled to form my words as tears streamed down my cheeks. It felt like a huge meteor had blasted through my chest and every ounce of my life splashed and poured out, dissolving before I had a chance to mold it into something more than a misplaced moment. Max had gone on without me…I knew he would, I’m not that stupid, but it still hurts.

  Nick pushed closer to me. His arms weighed heavy across my shoulders as he pulled me against his chest. I felt his mouth push against the side of my head.

  “You didn’t need to hear it that way. I am really sorry I upset you,” Nick whispered. The heat of his words brushed delicately against the edges of my ear.

  “It’s not—your—fault. Nobody’s texting me. Nobody is keeping me informed about what’s going on over there. It’s like they’re ashamed of me.”

  “Well, I don’t want to cause you—any more pain,” he mumbled as he pulled away and the cold reclaimed my body. With his hand in mine, Nick pulled me toward the kitchen. He looked back, his dark brown eyes met mine, and immediately I felt a longing pull, low in my stomach.

  “Wilson, I know you have a lot to think about, and the last thing I’d want to do is make anything worse for you,” Nick said.

  He was right—I did have a lot to think about, more than I really wanted to. But it wasn’t Nick’s fault Max hadn’t come for me; that he’d decided to go on without me.

  “Well, you haven’t made anything worse. Actually, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” I said.

  “For you—I’d do it over and over again, in a heartbeat,” he mumbled as he forced his hands into his front pockets.

  “Thanks—it’s comforting knowing you’re here for me,” I said quietly.

  He shrugged, brushing me off. I pu
lled his chin so he’d look me in the eyes. Suddenly he didn’t appear so off-limits to me, and I was feeling the numbness I was craving. When he let go of my stare, I felt my heart tug from the space in my chest reserved for Max, and I didn’t expect it to skip a beat like it did.

  Overwhelmed by my physical response, I playfully shoved him and he stumbled backward. Faster than lightning, he snatched my arm and pulled me along with him; I felt my weight shift as my face pressed into his chest. He tried to balance himself by leaning forward and wrapping his arms around the small of my back. I closed my eyes and inhaled the aroma of Aspen from the fibers of his shirt. Immediately, everything I loved about Max flashed through my mind, but everything I ached for dangled in Nick’s embrace. I felt every muscle in his body release, and suddenly, he was comfortable. I nuzzled my face into the bend of his neck. I felt his chin tighten against my head as he took a deep, guarded breath and exhaled my name slowly.

  Tears began to build in my eyes. I lightly rubbed my face against his t-shirt before I held my lips to that space, right where his jaw met his neck. His body tightened and I tasted his skin. I felt his heart pound heavy against my lips; instantly, I felt my body react.

  Nick froze as I inched away, like he didn’t know if what was happening was intentional or not. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to swallow the guilt of making this about me, or worry if this was something I truly wanted.

  Who was I kidding? I just wanted him to dull my pain; I needed him to make everything go away. I stretched up and pressed my lips to the corner of his mouth—they were so soft, so inviting. I felt his reluctance as I pushed harder. He slid his hands up my biceps. I wanted him to cling to me, fix me, make me forget about the lack of control I had over my life.

  He ran his hands up to my shoulders. I wanted to feel his palms heat the sides of my face and his fingers to press around the back of my neck; instead I felt the pressure of him pushing me away. Cold air flooded my lips, my heart tumbled down into my stomach, and his warmth disappeared from my skin. I opened my eyes in time to see his head sway and drop down away from me. He held his fingers broodingly against his lips. He took a step away from me as guilt clung heavy to his shoulders. Tears flooded my eyes; embarrassed, I lowered my head. I couldn’t look at him.

  What the hell am I doing? Is it fair to fill the holes I have for Max in my soul, with Nick? I could feel the swirling dizziness come back as I pushed past him and stumbled for the guest room—the one place I could stay until Joanie came to get me. I got as far as the refrigerator before I felt his hand clutch my arm and pull me back around to him. His cagey, brown eyes blazed as they studied my face. His eyebrows caved in, his lips dropped to a frown.

  Nick bent close and studied my expression—every inch of messed up that I was. A pressure crawled up my spine. I didn’t want to hear how much I’d hurt him; how I’d become the tease I never wanted to be. Everything was so intense, so intoxicating, like the alcohol had taken me to a place where inhibition didn’t exist. But he kept staring at me as if his eyes were soaking in every curve of my face. His lips were tight, like he wanted to say something, and his eyes danced somewhere between smoldering and glacial.

  “Fuck it,” he growled as his scorching hands cradled me under my jaw and around my ears. His biceps flexed as he pulled me to his mouth, and his body pushed definitively against mine. His kiss was wild with intention. He took a step into me and I stumbled back until he pressed me up against the refrigerator. Our bodies vibrated with the energy surging between us. I felt the butterflies, usually reserved for Max, move but they didn’t take flight. A primal need stirred deep within me as I dragged my hands up across his back. He bent lower and pressed his lips to the space between my jaw and neck. All the while, I couldn’t stop visions of Max from flooding my mind. Nick’s mouth pulsed against my skin and I felt our bodies agree to the rhythm he was creating, even when I knew it wasn’t right.

  I raised my chin, wanting him to carry on provoking me with the heat that coursed from his mouth. His lips traced my jawline to the edge of my ear, pulling and nibbling on my earlobe. Chills migrated from my core through my head and back again. We didn’t look at each other. I didn’t want to see the reflection of what we were about to do, or the hope it created in his dark brown eyes.

  Nick made a voiceless attempt to explain what he wanted as he pressed his soft, open mouth against mine. I felt his hands heat either side of my face as he lightened his kiss before pressing hard against my lips again. I needed him to inhale my pain and take it away. I tilted my head, making his mouth follow as our tongues entwined, slow and definite. I tasted how much I wanted to cave into him. The rhythm of his tongue sped up, and at that moment, I knew how long he had wanted to kiss me like that. With my body still pressed against the refrigerator, he pushed harder, and instantly it felt gratifying to be desired.

  He dragged his lips across my cheek; I could hear his visceral breathing as he pressed his mouth to the space below my ear and moaned. My breath faltered.

  He pushed my arms up above my head and I held them there as he dragged his hands down the insides, tickling me gently. My breathing became shallow as he mapped his way down my neck. He kissed across my collarbone and down to where my shirt dipped, exposing the space just above my breasts. When he pressed his mouth there, everything dropped south. My hands tangled in his brown curls and my knees gave way, just enough to feel his rigid groin rub hard against me. I felt his breath release, hot against my skin, as he growled and I recognized this was leading to something more than just kissing. I pulled his hair just enough to get his attention. I felt his entire body rise and push against me as his lips pressed tightly against mine. He swayed his hips against me, and without thinking, I pushed back.

  “What the hell is going on here?” I heard someone yell from behind us.

  My eyes sprang open as the voice pulled me out of the heated moment. Nick pulled away from our kiss as he twisted around. Cold air rushed my mouth and my heart pounded quickly when I realized the person who walked in on us was Cindy. An emptiness ripped across my body. What the hell have I done? I’m not this type of girl.

  “What the fuck, Cindy?” Nick cursed as he stood between his sister and me. Cindy positioned herself determinedly, letting him know she was prepared to win a fight of words. It looked like her feet were being swallowed by her ginormous, pink, shaggy fur boots as she scampered toward Nick. Her stretchy, white ski pants made her legs look like skinny toothpicks tumbling to the floor as she walked.

  “Don’t curse at me! I’m not the one with my tongue stuck down my friend’s throat,” Cindy spat at Nick. “And Wilson—what are you doing here in Aspen anyway? Couldn’t you find a different family to infect?”

  Her words sliced across me and my guts poured from the gaping holes she carved out of my body.

  “You better watch your mouth, Cindy. You’ve never acted like a friend to Wilson,” Nick spat back.

  “Obviously. Friends don’t lie and friends don’t sneak back to Aspen to make out with your brother behind your back,” Cindy snarled.

  “You have no idea what friends are. You only have investments and acquaintances,” Nick steamed.

  “I have plenty of friends; I don’t need some wretched, gold-digging charity case—”

  “Back off,” Nick growled and took a step toward Cindy.

  Seeing how he was falling for her same old bullshit, I grabbed his bicep and tugged. He turned back to me and our eyes clung to one another’s.

  “Let it go,” I whispered.

  I watched the anger in his face dissolve and the tension in his shoulders drop as I lowered my hand down his arm and into his hand. For a lingering moment, it was just Nick and me.

  There was nothing from Cindy; she just stood there with her mouth gaping wide open. She must have believed Nick and I were together.

  God I don’t want to go there, but if Cindy believes I’m involved with Nick, then at least I can salvage one thing from this catastrophe—Max will
be safe at Wesley. Whether or not we are together, at least I won’t have the guilt of him losing his job over me.

  I leaned against Nick, trying to prompt him to smooth the waters with his sister. He cleared his throat, working to reclaim his calm manner.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “My father texted me about Frank Goldstein’s funeral. I guess he wants us to go and represent the Browlers. I had to cancel my trip to New York…so much for a vacay with my Seasonals,” Cindy whined as she pranced to the counter with her hand clutched to her hip. Her poufy, pink shag boots swayed as if they were characters from a Sunday morning cartoon. She pushed her shoulders back and her body language played her off as confident and totally unaffected. It was as if Nick and I weren’t even there; she had become a whole different person. Her eyes glazed with a vacuity that she reserved for strangers and the unworthy.

  Every muscle in my body tensed, every drop of saliva in my mouth dried up, and even my ears started to ring with a faint buzz, building upon the anticipation of the massive explosion Cindy was about to create—like a firework that fizzled out before it went off.

  Nick and I waited without taking a breath, waiting for the blast of her anger to surge and take over the room.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing Nnn-ick,” Cindy snapped.

  Nick tightened his hand around mine and replied, “I know exactly what I am doing.”

  Cindy sauntered past us, like a shark gliding through the water, waiting for the perfect opportunity to kill.

  Cindy’s eyes constricted before she tapped her manicured finger deliberately against her chin, leaned toward me, and whispered, “I’m so confused…what about Matt Gladstone?” She thrust her hands in the air as her fingers wiggled to make air quotes around Max’s fake name.

  She leaned away from me, her eyes evil and satisfied, like she’d been waiting to say that for a month. My heart fell into the pit of my stomach. I could feel the anxiety fill my lungs. My mouth began to water and I knew I only had seconds before I was going to vomit. Holy shit, she figured out that’s the name I gave Max on my phone. Oh my God, she knows about Max and me.