Forever With You

by J. Lynn

  “You say arrogant, and I say observant.” Nick shifted before I could respond, reaching between us and tugging one of my braids. He tugged gently, his fingers curling around the braid. “You and I cool?”

  It took me a moment to answer and I wasn’t even sure why. Deep down, I already knew the answer, so I forced it out. “Yeah, we are.”

  “Good.” He slid his fingers down, smoothing them over the loop, drawing my attention, and I was helpless to not watch his fingers work their way down. “Will I see you at Mona’s again?”

  Drawing in a short breath, I lifted my gaze, but he was staring at my braid. “Maybe.”

  “Say yes.”

  My heart was starting to beat faster. “Yes.”

  “That was easy.”

  “To see Roxy,” I added, and I smiled when he laughed. “I’ll make sure I say hi to you if you happen to be there.”

  “Make sure you do.” Smiling, he tugged on my braid once more and then flipped it over my shoulder. His hand lingered in the space between us and then he cupped my cheek. The move startled me as he dragged his thumb under my lip. “It’s really a shame.”

  I frowned. “What is?”

  “Us,” he said, his voice low as his thumb made another sweep, and my breath caught. “That you and I are the way we are. It’s a damn shame.”

  Chapter 7

  The smell of fried bacon and maple syrup caused my stomach to grumble like a monster straight out of a horror movie. It screamed, Feeeed meeee.

  Stopping in front of the empty hostess station, I stretched up on the tips of my sneakers and scanned the booths for two somewhat familiar heads. The texts from Roxy and Katie had started Saturday evening, and I would’ve agreed to meet them Sunday morning right off the bat, but their escalating pleas and messages had been quite entertaining. At one point Katie had threatened to break into my apartment and draw a mustache on my face if I didn’t come.

  The funny part was, I wouldn’t have said no to them. Sure, Katie, whom I’d only met briefly, seemed like she might be missing a few screws, but whatever. Who was I to judge? I missed my old friends and our weekly, or sometimes triweekly, meet-­ups. Admittedly, I was a social creature most of the time, and the loneliness I’d been wallowing in wasn’t going anywhere.

  I spotted Roxy and her blue glasses toward the back of the busy restaurant. The walkways between the booths were crowded with racing kids covered in sticky jelly and older ­people trying to rein them in as I made my way toward them.

  Roxy’s hair was pulled up in a messy bun and her eyes squinted as she glanced up at me. “You seriously went running before you came here. You weren’t lying.”

  “Nope. I try to run every day.” I sat beside Katie, who compared to Friday night was dressed down in a baby blue off-­the-­shoulder sweater that looked like sequins had thrown up on it. Her blond hair was pulled back in a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. “I have to work out,” I explained, placing my purse between Katie and me. “I eat like five starving guys in college. It’s actually embarrassing how much food I can consume in one sitting.”

  Katie laughed. “I don’t have that problem. I can eat whatever I want and not gain a pound. Actually, I’d probably lose weight.” Her shoulders rose in a shrug. “Sucks to be you all.”

  Roxy scowled at her. “You don’t need to rub it in, you know.”

  “Don’t hate me because I was born this way.” Katie grinned when Roxy rolled her eyes. “Maybe it’s Maybelline. Maybe it’s Katie.”

  I giggle snorted.

  The waitress appeared at our table, clicking the pen she’d pulled out of the pocket of her apron. She took our drink order and then dashed off to fulfill it, her white sneakers squeaking across the floor.

  “I’m glad you came,” Roxy said, propping her elbows on the table. “I was worried I was going to have to search you down and force you to come eat with us.”

  I laughed again. “I’m pretty sure you’d have a hard time doing that.”

  “I’m scrappy.” Roxy grinned. “I could take you.”

  Thinking of the shiner I’d first seen her with, I decided she was probably telling the truth. “I’m glad you guys invited me.” I paused while the waitress returned with our drinks before disappearing again, then I said, “So, I know Roxy works at the bar, what about you, Katie?”

  “At the club across the street from Mona’s.” Katie dumped a packet of sugar into her coffee and then picked up five more, managing to rip the tops off in one impressive swipe. “It’s a strip club.”

  “Oh.” How had I not noticed a strip club across the street from Mona’s?

  Katie dumped the sugar in her coffee. “I strip. I don’t dance. I take my clothes off for a living and get paid damn good money for it, too.”

  I blinked. “That’s cool.”

  Her gaze turned shrewd. “You don’t have a problem with that?”

  “Um, not if you don’t.” I glanced at Roxy, who was busy cleaning her glasses, a small smile pulling at her face. I picked up my soda and took a deep drink.

  Katie tilted her head to the side, studying me. “Really?”

  I lifted a shoulder. “Nope. Honestly. I think it’s pretty cool you have the lady balls to do it.”

  A slow grin appeared. “You should do it. You’d make so much money. Hell, I’d pay to see you—­”

  “Katie,” sighed Roxy, resting her chin in her hand. “Stop trying to recruit rookie strippers. You do this every time you meet someone. No one has agreed yet.”

  I grinned as I pictured the odd blonde roaming the city, looking for women who wanted to take their clothes off. “I don’t think I could do it. I’d get up there and then forget how to take my clothes off.”

  “Taking your clothes off is the easiest part,” Katie replied seriously.

  Roxy looked doubtful. “Those spandex running pants leave very little to the imagination. If I had your body, I’d walk around naked all day.”

  “I have no problem getting naked when it’s—­I don’t know, an intimate situation,” I announced, “but doing it in public is a different story.”

  “That’s good to know,” the waitress said, pen in hand. “Do you guys know what you want to eat?”

  “Awkward,” I murmured under my breath as my eyes widened.

  Roxy giggled, and we quickly placed our orders. Katie ordered grits and a waffle, and I went with an omelet and a side order of bacon. Roxy went for some kind of fruit thing and a bagel. I watched the waitress zoom away and then said, “Well then . . .”

  “I think she needed to know your getting naked preferences,” Roxy said, sitting back against the worn red booth. “So how is it working out at the Lima Academy?”

  “You’re surrounded by hot guys from nine to five, right?” Katie perked up, like a bell had been rung. “Especially Brock. Mmm. Goodness. Brock can get all beastie with me anytime he wants,” she said, and I almost spit out my drink when she added, “My vagina would have its own personal landing strip for him.”

  “Oh my God,” Roxy whispered as she snickered. “The imagery. I’ll never get it out of my head now.”

  I never wanted that imagery in my head. “I actually don’t see a lot of ­people, and I have yet to meet Brock. I think he’s coming back next week or something, but it’s pretty cool. I’ve been doing a lot of running around, but all and all, it’s what I expected.” I lifted up, sitting with my legs crossed. I always had to. It was weird, but I wouldn’t be comfortable if I didn’t. “Everyone is nice. Well, except these two guys that work in sales.”

  “Are they mean or something?” Roxy asked.

  I shook my head. “Not really. Just overbearing and douchey. One of them said the only reason why I got hired was because of the way I looked.” Flipping my ponytail over my shoulder, I rolled my eyes. “And he meant that as a compliment. For real. Like I should’ve thank
ed him for that.”

  “Wow.” Roxy frowned and her glasses slipped down her nose. “What an ass.”

  “Pretty much.” No arguing that. “He said something about the girl who used to work in my position, but I don’t remember much other than him saying he hoped I didn’t end up like her.”

  Blood drained from Roxy’s face so rapidly I jolted forward. “Oh God, are you okay?” I asked, wondering if she had some kind of medical condition.

  “Yeah. Yes. It’s just that . . .” She trailed off, straightening her glasses.

  “Wait.” Katie wrinkled her nose. “Wasn’t that girl attacked by the Kip Corbin creep?”

  “Yeah,” Roxy confirmed quietly.

  Something was most definitely going on, and I didn’t have to wait too long before Katie expanded on the details. “If you ask me, a guy with two first names as their first and last name just says bad shit is on the way,” she said, and I pursed my lips together, because that didn’t make a lot of sense to me. “Kip Corbin was this freak who basically stalked Roxy for months and attacked a bunch of other women.”

  “What?” My eyes nearly popped out of my head as my voice rose a notch.

  Our conversation halted while the waitress brought our food, and all the plates of yummie goodness sat untouched while Roxy fidgeted with her fork. “He was this guy who lived above me,” she said. “Seemed normal. Obviously wasn’t. He was basically a budding serial killer.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “He attacked a lot of other girls. I was lucky.” She smiled tightly, and again I thought of the bruise I’d seen on her. That was now explained. Good God. Horror swamped me. “Reece showed up in time and . . .” Color hadn’t returned to her cheeks as she stared at her plate of food. “I was very lucky.”

  “Total white knight right there.” Katie stabbed her bowl of grits with her fork. “But that girl who used to work at Lima, she was the last executive assistant.”

  Holy crap.

  And Rick had made the poor woman’s exit sound like it wasn’t a big deal. God, he was grosser than I had given him credit for. One look at Roxy told me she wasn’t doing too well. I reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

  “It’s okay.” She squeezed my hand back. “You had no way of knowing. And it’s in the past.”

  “And Kip Corbin is dead.” Katie shoved a heap of grits into her mouth. “The girl who used to work at Lima was Isaiah’s cousin. And of course, you don’t know who Isaiah is, but you’ll probably meet him at some point at Lima. I think he’s a funder of the academy or something, or whatever you call ­people who pay for stuff.” She scooped up another mouthful. “Anyway, Isaiah is like the legit mafia. Everyone here knows that. Don’t get on his bad side.”

  My gaze swung sharply to Roxy. “For real?”

  “For real.” She forked up a strawberry. “Kip ended up hanging himself in jail, but it was real suspicious. No one crosses Isaiah or messes with one of his own.”

  Picking up my knife and fork, I started to cut my omelet into absurdly small pieces. Hot UFC fighters. Sexy bartenders. A serial killer. And now a mob boss? This was like a romance novel. Or a Lifetime movie channel. Geez.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” I suggested. Relief eased the taut line of Roxy’s shoulders. I searched for something else and settled on familiar grounds—­the connection between here and Shepherdstown. “I’m still kind of in shock that you all know everyone from Shepherd. It’s a small world.”

  “I know!” Roxy exclaimed, her eyes brightening. “It’s bizarre—­amazing—­but crazy bizarre. I know they were just as surprised as you were. I know you don’t know Calla well, but I hope you get to hang out with her when she comes back to visit. She usually spends every other weekend here with Jax.”

  “That would be cool,” I murmured, forking the omelet into my mouth.

  Katie snickered. “You said, as enthused as a kid opening up a package of socks Christmas morning. Why’s that? You don’t like Calla?”

  “No. I mean, I like Calla, but, I don’t know her, but . . .”

  “But what?” Katie prodded.

  Pushing the fluffy yellow stuff around my plate, I didn’t know how to respond, because I wasn’t sure how much Calla had known and told Roxy. I picked up a slice of bacon and crunched away. By the time I finished, I decided to be truthful, because why not?

  Wasn’t like I was ashamed of anything Calla could’ve told Roxy.

  “I’m not sure if she likes me,” I said, picking up another slice of salty, greasy bacon.

  “What?” Roxy’s lips parted as she pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Why would you think that?”

  “Well, maybe because I’ve had relations with Cam . . . and Jase at one point.” I went for a drink of cool soda. “Not when they were with Avery or Teresa or anything like that, but . . . yeah, some girls don’t care if that was in the past, before them. And Calla is really close to Teresa.”

  “Oh.” Roxy blinked once and then twice. “Calla never mentioned anything like that.”

  Pressing my lips together, I resisted the urge to smack myself in the face. Well, perhaps this was an even worse conversation idea. Go Steph! “Well . . .” I raised my hands with a shrug. “Anyway, I’m not really close to any of those girls for that reason.”

  “But all of them seemed super excited to see you,” Roxy insisted, frowning. “None of them were catty or gave you the side eye. And I notice all cattiness from a mile away. It’s like a special radar I have.”

  Hmm. Maybe they were cool with me? But I wasn’t even sure Teresa knew about Jase and my one and only hookup. I knew Avery had found out about Cam, but Avery was always hard to read. Maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut about all of this. I barely knew these girls and I just told them I’d hooked up with two random guys they knew.

  I went back to pushing my omelet on my plate. “You probably think that sounds slutty—­”

  “No. I don’t,” Roxy stated firmly. “Not to me.”

  My lips curved up in a smile. “Contrary to what some might believe, the list of guys I’ve been with isn’t as long as my arm.”

  “Mine is as long as my leg,” Katie replied and then tipped her head back. Her brows furrowed together. “Well, wait. Probably as long as both legs and an arm.”

  “Wow,” murmured Roxy, appearing impressed.

  “Sounds like you have me beat.” My smile raised a notch as I peeked at her. “But it’s weird being close to them—­Avery and Teresa. Which is strange, because one of my other friends—­Yasmine—­she’d messed around with Cam, too, and it’s not weird for us.”

  “Was Yasmine in love with Cam and Cam in love with her?” Roxy asked. “Because if not, then that probably explains it.” She popped a piece of cantaloupe into her mouth. “And you weren’t in love with him either, right?”

  “Nope. Good point.”

  “I bet some chicks think you’re a real tramp.” Katie laughed.

  My smile slipped off my face. “Well, yeah, I’m sure some do. Actually, I know some do.” Suddenly, I thought of Nikki Glenn, a girl who was in my English 102 class my second semester at Shepherd. “This one girl, a ­couple of years ago, wrote ‘vengeful tramp’ in shaving cream on the hood of my car.”

  Roxy’s eyes widened behind the glasses. “Oh, wow.”

  “In September, during a heat spell.” Pursing my lips, I nodded. “Yep. I ended up having to get a paint job. That doesn’t come off. And just imagine the looks I got when I drove the car into the body shop.”

  “Did you sleep with her man or kick her dog into traffic?” Katie asked.

  It was my turn to laugh. “No. I’ve never slept with a guy—­at least knowingly—­that was involved with someone else. Nor have I kicked any animal. This girl was mad because I was friends with her boyfriend. I’d known him for
years, long before she came into the picture. We went to high school together and had gone to homecoming as each other’s dates one year. That was it. According to her, based on my reputation, I’d slept with every guy I’ve ever talked to.” I paused, thinking back. “Ironically, they are no longer together and I still chat with the guy whenever we see each other.”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “The funny thing is, Donnie—­that was the girl’s boyfriend—­he was such a player before he met Nikki. Now he is probably someone who has two legs and two arms worth of girls he’d been with, and she didn’t have a problem with him sleeping with an entire zip code worth of chicks, but boy did she have one with me, and I hadn’t even so much as kissed the dude on the cheek.”

  “They never do,” was Katie’s sagelike reply.

  “I don’t get it.” Roxy slathered a continent-­sized amount of cream cheese on her bagel. “Like why would anyone care who someone was with if it was in the past and everyone was safe about it? Consensual sex or whatever between two ­people isn’t shocking. I don’t walk around thinking Reece has never been with anyone but me, and he knows I’ve been with other guys before. And I know damn well Avery and Teresa don’t think their guys haven’t been with anyone else. That whole mentality is stupid.”

  “Yeah, it is,” I murmured, staring at my plate as an old burning sensation picked up in my gut. What ­people thought of me, especially virtual strangers who had absolutely no impact on my life, didn’t bother me most of the time. But I genuinely liked Cam and Jase, so that meant I liked their girlfriends by extension, and . . . yes, I wanted to be liked by them, too. I didn’t want them to think I was lurking in the shadows somewhere, about to pounce on their guys. Truthfully, though, there were times when the opinions of virtual strangers like that of Nikki Glenn did get to me. Moments when whispered words and harsh looks had cut deeper than they should—­moments when words like “slut” and “whore” were laced with enough venom to take me down.

  I’ll never really understand it, I realized as I sat there, staring at the red and green flecks of the leftover peppers, why others’ sexual habits bothered ­people—­especially other women—­so much. Of all ­people, you’d think women would be more tolerant of other women’s choices, but sadly, a lot aren’t. In a lot of ways they could be worse than the guys. It wasn’t like I was sitting in judgment over those who waited for marriage or believed sex automatically equaled love. I could care less if someone had two partners or fifty. So why did they have to?