Hold On

by Kristen Ashley

  I jerked in a turn and stared at my dickhead neighbor who was right there, in my space.

  Okay, apparently, even when most of your life stops sucking, some of that suckage remained.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” I replied, forcing myself not to look around to see if I could find Ryker watching.

  “Sorry, baby.” He moved back half a step. “Thought you saw me.”

  I got out of the way of my door, slammed it, and put space between us as I beat back a lip curl at him calling me “baby.”

  I also did all this as I answered, “I was texting.”

  “Yeah,” he said, taking a step toward me, and I held my ground even though I didn’t want to. “Listen, know you got a kid but thought you might wanna find someone to look after him and go grab a beer sometime.”

  I looked to his house.

  I saw the beat-up Chevy truck I knew he drove.

  I did not see the run-down Ford Fiesta his woman drove.

  Not good news.

  I looked back at him. “It’s cool you askin’, but just to say, I got a kid and I also got a man.”

  His face changed and it was not a happy change.

  “Black Excursion?” he asked.

  He’d been watching me.

  Now I was the one who was not happy (or less happy, considering I wasn’t happy at all he was in my space).

  “Yeah,” I told him.

  He moved closer to me.

  Shit.

  “Dude’s not your style, darlin’,” he said in what I expected was his come-on voice.

  It did nothing for me for more reasons than the fact the asshole didn’t even know my name, so he couldn’t know what my style was.

  Unless he made assumptions about me.

  Which pissed me off.

  However, I could not engage.

  And that sucked.

  “’Fraid you’re wrong,” I replied, stepping away.

  “That guy’s too clean-cut,” he declared, taking another step toward me. “You seem like a woman who likes to have fun, let it all hang out.” His gaze dipped to my tits. “And you can feel free to do that with me, baby.”

  He was right. I was that kind of woman, and I was good doing that with Merry because my dickhead neighbor read Merry wrong—Merry was also that kind of man.

  “Think we can have good times, you and me,” he stated, looking into my eyes again and taking yet another step toward me.

  “Think my man wouldn’t be too happy about that,” I returned an understatement. “But you gotta know, I am happy with my guy, so no offense to you and your offer, but I’m good where I’m at.”

  “You sure you wouldn’t wanna take a shot at better?” he pushed.

  Him? Better?

  He’d been watching but had he actually seen Merry?

  “Got a good thing,” I said softly, hoping to get through and get this asshole away from me. “Been waitin’ for it a long time. It’s good for me. It’s good for my kid. No way I’m gonna fuck that up. You with me?”

  Not that I’d even consider it with him.

  Then again, I wouldn’t consider it with anybody…but Merry.

  He studied me.

  I let him.

  When I was about to quit letting him, thankfully, he nodded.

  “I’m with you, babe. I hear that. But I’m two doors down, you know? Shit happens with that dude, he doesn’t look after you, there’s always a cold one waitin’ for you just down the street.”

  I had a feeling he didn’t know what looking after a woman meant.

  And I was never going to find out.

  “Thanks, that’s sweet,” I lied.

  He smiled.

  He had good teeth, but I knew that was all that was good about him.

  “You ever need anyone to look after your boy, I’m around a lot.” He kept smiling. “And I like kids.”

  And that was never going to happen.

  “That’s sweet too,” I lied again.

  “Just so you know, in case shit goes south, I can be all kinds of sweet.”

  How was he not getting the hint?

  “Noted,” I murmured.

  He kept smiling. “Later, babe.”

  “Right. Later.”

  He did a slow turn, doing it watching me.

  I did a quick turn and hoofed it to my house.

  Once I got inside, I finished my text to Merry and hit send.

  Ethan’s all good and you’re all kinds of sweet.

  And that was no lie.

  The second after I sent that, I went to my Contacts and found what I needed.

  I put my phone to my ear and got Ryker’s voicemail.

  I waited for the beep and shared, “My dickhead neighbor just asked me out. He took no for an answer, but that didn’t stop him from pushin’ it and bein’ chatty. Since it’s flyin’ through the ’burg, you gotta know Merry and me sorted things out. If you don’t want Merry breathin’ down your neck on this, or wadin’ in and committing felonies when the badass is unleashed, you need to do whatever it is you’re doin’ and you need to do it quick. My neighbor is watchin’, that watchin’ he’s doin’ is watchin’ me, and if Merry cottons on to that, all holy hell is gonna break loose.”

  I got a beep to tell me I got a text before I finished my message, so when I was done, I went right there to see the text from Merry.

  Late lunch. You and me. Frank’s. You good for 2:00?

  I had early shifts that week.

  But I’d go to the moon at any time he wanted to have lunch with Merry.

  In other words, I was good with anything.

  You’re on, I told him.

  Text me with your order sometime between then and now. I’ll call it in before we go so you’ll get out in time.

  He thought of everything.

  Thanks, baby.

  Anything, brown eyes.

  I drew in a deep breath.

  Yeah.

  Fuck yeah.

  I had a good thing.

  * * * * *

  Sit tight. Be smart. And don’t jack shit up.

  That text was not from Merry.

  That text was a poorly timed incoming from Ryker while I was sitting across from Merry at Frank’s with a breaded tenderloin sandwich in front of me.

  Get a move on, but now, shut up. I’m with Merry, I returned.

  “Who’s that?” Merry asked, lifting his Reuben and the inevitable happening, considering it was a Reuben à la Frank, shoved full of corned beef and sauerkraut, which meant a huge glob of it fell out before Merry even got it to his mouth.

  I tossed my phone in my purse and ignored his question.

  “You should know this, actually bein’ from the ’burg and all, but you gotta eat a Reuben à la Frank with a fork,” I educated him.

  “Women eat sandwiches with forks,” he replied to me. “Men make a mess and don’t give a fuck.”

  I couldn’t argue his point, so I didn’t. I took a bite of my sandwich.

  I did it hoping Merry wouldn’t press me about who was texting me.

  I also did it uncomfortable because I was no relationship expert, but one thing I did know: a surefire way to fuck one up was keeping something important from the other person. In fact, I was pretty sure keeping anything from the other person wasn’t a good thing.

  Merry might not need me to share every piece of information about myself.

  I just knew if he asked, I should be open to sharing.

  Including whoever texted.

  Especially if it was about some trouble Ryker was involved in that was happening right on my street.

  I’d felt Merry gearing up to go apeshit. That feeling let loose where he actually lost it, that would be a bad thing. So I knew Ryker was not wrong.

  I just hoped whatever he was up to, he’d deal with it and do it in a way so Merry never knew I even had an inkling.

  And worse, didn’t share.

  “It good, babe?” he asked.

  I focused on M
erry and not my thoughts. I did this chewing and realized he was asking about my sandwich.

  “Yeah,” I answered before I asked, “You gonna let me buy lunch?”

  “Women argue with their girls about who’s buyin’ lunch,” he stated. “A man takes his woman to lunch, he pays.”

  I was glad he seemed to have forgotten about the texts.

  But I was still uncomfortable about it.

  I lifted my brows. “Is that a badass rule?”

  “Nope. One of the commandments,” he returned immediately.

  “You sign those in blood?” I asked.

  “Yup,” he answered. “Though not ours. The man whose ass we kicked to earn membership in the brotherhood.”

  “Sorry I missed the initiation ritual,” I said through a smile before taking another bite.

  “It was quite the show, baby.”

  I chewed and did it still smiling.

  Merry took another bite and lost another quarter of filling.

  I swallowed so I could laugh without choking.

  I did it thinking, this is how it feels…happy.

  Outside many miraculous moments with my son, which were all about lucking out by having a kid as awesome as Ethan, I had no clue.

  I had no clue just sitting across from the guy who did it for you at a booth in a diner could make you so…fucking…happy.

  But it did because that was what I felt, sitting with Merry, trading smartass back and forth, and eating fantastic sandwiches.

  Just that.

  And that’s all I felt.

  Fucking happy.

  * * * * *

  “Shit.”

  It was Wednesday evening. Darryl was behind the bar with me. He was yanking out the bins full of recyclables in order to clean them out.

  When he cursed, I looked to him to see he was bent to his task but his head was tipped back, his eyes were at the front of the bar, and his face was set to displeased.

  I looked that way and felt my body get tight.

  She’d timed it meticulously. I was a chick so I knew that to be true. Just after six on a weekday, the bar was full of patrons who wanted to get loose after their day by throwing back a drink.

  She was there at that moment because she wanted an audience. She wanted people to know she’d thrown down with me. She might even be wanting to save face.

  And if she thought Merry was testing her, she wanted that shit to get back to Merry.

  As for me, I was pissed she was there. I was pissed she was there with her eyes locked to me and her expression telling me where this was going. I was pissed she was bringing this to my place of work.

  But I was also curious.

  Not only at what she was going to say but because Tanner Layne was there to witness it. Tanner was sitting at the end of the bar in what looked to be a debrief work huddle with his buddy Devin.

  They’d both been in since things with Merry and me started officially (and even when it was unofficial). I knew they both knew what was going on, Tanner probably more than anybody.

  But in that time, they hadn’t treated me any differently.

  Tanner liked me. We were buds.

  That said, I knew Tanner had pushed Merry to get back with Mia. And he was too good of a guy to let me know to my face that he thought Merry was making a mistake with me.

  Now, if that was the case or if it wasn’t, if Mia forced something, whatever that was might be unleashed.

  “Cheryl.” I heard snapped, and I stopped thinking all this and focused on Mia, who’d positioned herself at the bar where there were two vacant seats.

  As I did this, I noted I wasn’t the only one focused on Mia at the bar. The entire place was almost silent because everyone was focused on Mia at the bar.

  “Cher.”

  That was growled angrily from behind me.

  I twisted my neck and looked up to see Darryl right at my back.

  “I’m good, Darryl,” I told him.

  Just his eyes shifted down to me.

  “And I’m good standin’ right here, makin’ sure you’re good,” he returned.

  Seriously, Darryl was all right.

  “Fine,” Mia bit out, and I turned my attention back to her. “Cher.”

  I moved closer to her at the bar and decided to start out by playing dumb.

  “You need a drink, Mia?”

  “No, I don’t need a goddamned drink,” she spat. “I need you to leave my man alone.”

  I sighed.

  Definitely making a statement she wanted to get back to Merry.

  “And I need you to know I’ll fight for him if you make me,” she went on.

  “Listen, babe, I’m at work. Can we not do this here?” I requested, then added, “Or, say, at all?”

  “You need to understand the way things are.”

  That meant no.

  I still could not engage (even if I wanted to).

  “Okay, I understand,” I told her. “Now, do you want a drink?”

  At that, she seemed confused, probably because she was expecting a different response from me.

  “Woman, this is a bar,” Darryl entered the conversation when she hesitated one-point-five seconds. “You’re in here, you drink. You don’t drink, you’re not in here.”

  “No offense,” Mia said to him. “But I’m not talking to you.”

  “Don’t care if you are or if you aren’t,” Darryl returned. “Fact remains, you’re here, you drink.”

  “I have a few things to say to Cher,” Mia retorted.

  “You said ’em,” Darryl shot back. “Now order a drink or gonna hafta ask you to leave.”

  Mia decided she was done with Darryl and looked to me. “Everyone knows he’s mine. The whole town knows. They don’t want the likes of you for him. They want him for me.”

  Shit, now she was making me mad.

  “The likes of me?” I asked, though I shouldn’t have. I was keeping it together. I didn’t need to give her the ammunition to make me lose it.

  She looked me up and down. “You know what you are.”

  Yeah, she was making me mad.

  With effort, I beat it back and nodded. “I know what I am. I know Merry likes what I am. And I really don’t give a shit what everyone knows or wants for Merry. Merry wants me and that’s good enough for me.”

  “Merry doesn’t know what he wants,” she fired back.

  Christ, she was annoying.

  “He doesn’t?” I asked sarcastically. “Weird. He seemed pretty sure Thursday night. And Friday morning. And Saturday.”

  As I meant to do, I got in there. I knew it when her admittedly pretty face twisted and she didn’t look so pretty.

  “I’m sure he did,” she hissed. “What you forget is you weren’t the first he was sure he wanted, though I bet with all your on-the-job experience, you gave it good.”

  That wasn’t annoying.

  That was infuriating.

  I moved closer to the bar. Darryl moved closer to my back.

  But in the back and forth, we’d missed the fact that another player had hit our scene.

  “Before more shit comes outta your mouth you’re gonna regret, Mia, you need to end this and go.”

  I looked to the left to see Tanner standing there.

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with you, Tanner,” Mia replied, but she wasn’t done. Sliding a catty glance at me, she turned back to Tanner. “Though, I’ll say I’m surprised it seems you don’t want better for Merry.”

  “Doesn’t mean shit what I want for Garrett,” Tanner stated, and I felt that in not good ways, seeing as it wasn’t a ringing endorsement or a throwdown for me. “What does is what Garrett wants for Garrett,” he went on.

  “And Raquel didn’t want you for seventeen years, but you both knew better,” she returned.

  I watched Tanner’s mouth get tight and I thought that was him conceding the point.

  I was incorrect in this assumption.

  Very much so.

  “I a
m not Garrett and you sure as fuck aren’t Rocky,” he bit out. “This is not about that. This is somethin’ totally different. You want it, I’ll give it to you. You’re right. I do want better for Merry. I want my brother to be happy. And I know him. I know no way in fuck he’d be happy with a woman who’d spew the shit you just spewed to a good woman anytime, but sure as fuck not waltzin’ in her place of business to throw down with her in front of everybody.”

  “This has to be said,” she returned, lifting her chin even though a hint of uncertainty hit her expression.

  Tanner shook his head. “You’re intent to make your statement clear after five years of fuckin’ around and doin’ not one thing to get back your man. Advice? Wake up. You dicked around too long. It’s done. You lost him. And just a heads up on that, Mia, this town is talkin’. And while your women might be fillin’ your head with shit to keep you on a path that is no longer righteous, the rest of the ’burg is glad Garrett finally found a woman who’s got it in her to stick.”

  Okay, right.

  That was a ringing endorsement and definitely Tanner throwing down for me.

  Suddenly, I wasn’t angry.

  Suddenly, I grinned.

  “He’s mine,” Mia told Tanner, her voice weakening but only in the face of his words. It did not reflect her resolve. I had a vagina. I saw the look on her face. I knew that as fact.

  Shit.

  I quit grinning.

  “Heard about it. Reckon I don’t know shit about it,” Devin stated, also now there, leaning in to the bar over an empty stool, looking at Mia. “But what I heard, seems to me he’s never been yours.”

  “I don’t even know you,” Mia said to Devin.

  “Well, little miss, I know about you,” Devin replied. “And since you seem to be puttin’ a lotta stock into what everyone thinks, thought I’d share straight from the mouth of a member of the peanut gallery.” After Devin delivered that, he looked to me. “Now, I am here to drink, so I’d be obliged if you’d get me a fresh one. I’m half parched, waitin’ on this ridiculous drama to play out.”

  It had lasted less than five minutes.

  Then again, Dev could put away some booze.

  “I’ll get on that, Dev,” I muttered.

  Before I could, more muttering happened and this came from Tony Mancetti, who was sitting on the closest barstool to our drama.

  “Need a fresh one too, Cher. And, just addin’ from my seat in the peanut gallery, I’d put money down on you.”