Label Me Proud

by Stephie Walls

  I studied Beau and Peyton across from me, and I thought how hard it must be for Masyn to sit here watching them together. They weren’t all over each other, even though it was clear there was a mutual attraction. And while Masyn attempted to talk to Peyton, I thought about how horrible it would be if Beau and Peyton were supposed to be together, yet he’d had to meet Felicity to get to Peyton, and that one connection would keep them from ever having a real relationship.

  When I rejoined the conversation, Lani delivered a tray of wings and fries and another bucket of beers. “What have you two done all day?” I asked, once the waitress left.

  Peyton and Beau glanced at each other like teenagers caught skipping school. Then Peyton answered, “I went over to the Chastains’ house, and Beverly helped me go through the contracts from the wedding to see what was owed and what needed to be taken care of. And the two of us made some phone calls.”

  I nearly choked on my beer. “Beverly?” I’d known the woman my whole life and only once dared to call her Bev—right before I smacked her on the backside. Needless to say, it didn’t go over well, and I never tried again.

  “Yeah, what do you call her?” Peyton asked with humor in her voice.

  Masyn and I answered at the same time, “Mrs. Chastain.”

  “I don’t think Ryland even calls her Beverly,” I joked. “We used to laugh about Beau’s parents calling each other mister and missus while they were having sex, and how formal intercourse must be between them.”

  Masyn laughed next to me, clearly remembering the same things I did. Beau hadn’t thought it was funny then, and he didn’t think it was now. I thought it was a riot.

  “She told me to call her Beverly.” Peyton’s confusion was almost cute until Beau patted her on the leg and told her to ignore us. At that point it was nauseating. “Anyhow, once we finished all that, I helped Beau identify what gifts came from whom, and we made a trip to the post office to return as many as we could fit in the car.”

  “We got most of them addressed. I’ll just have to make a few runs to drop them off.”

  I couldn’t imagine what postage on all that would cost. “Did you open any of them to put in the new house?”

  “No. My mom insisted they be mailed here so she could keep track of them. She was afraid with us moving that things would get lost or one of us wouldn’t remember where something came from. Felicity was pissed then, but I bet she’s thanking her lucky stars now since she doesn’t have shit to deal with.”

  Masyn glared at Peyton, and I hit her under the table. She quickly pushed my hand aside and proceeded. “It’s like Felicity got off scot-free. How did you end up doing all the dirty work?”

  Peyton shrugged. “The luck of the draw, I guess.” Then she glanced at Beau and grinned. “It hasn’t been so bad, though. And now that I’ve gotten all the actual work done, I have a couple of days to hang out before my flight leaves on Friday.” A moron could have seen how excited she was about having some time to spend alone with Beau and how grim the prospect of flying out was.

  “I’m sure it’s nice to get away from the grind for a while.” My statement was absentminded and certainly not intended to lead into anything.

  “You know, you’re welcome to come to New York anytime you want to escape. I don’t have a huge place, but my roommate and I can certainly make room for visitors.” The invitation was extended to all three of us, but it was intended for Beau. Peyton glanced around the table when no one said anything. “Lee, why don’t you come home with me? I’m sure you’re not able to work with your thumb like that.”

  That was out of left field. “Me?”

  She placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Yeah, why not? You could take a few days off, come see the city, and then fly back Monday or Tuesday. I don’t have school all summer. I could show you around Manhattan, take you to see the Statue of Liberty, the Chrysler Building, Times Square.”

  Peyton was walking dangerously close to the edge of a cliff, one that Masyn might push her over. Here she was all hugged up on Beau, and when Masyn finally surrendered to let Peyton in, Peyton goes and asks me to come to New York.

  “I’ve already asked Beau, and of course he can’t, what with starting a new job on Monday and the house in Atlanta that’s sitting empty. You hurting your hand is perfect. Well, not perfect—I’m sorry you cut yourself. I meant it gives you a good excuse to take a breath of fresh air.”

  I could sense Masyn’s stare like it was burning holes through my cheek. Yet when I dared to meet her eyes, there was no emotion there, only indifference. I wondered if she’d heard that the only reason Beau wasn’t going to New York was his new job. I couldn’t read her expression, and that scared the hell out of me.

  “I’m not off work, Peyton. Just on light duty.” It was an excuse, not an answer.

  “Maybe it would do you some good to get out of Harden, Lee.” Beau’s encouragement threw me for a loop. And his aloof attitude when he sipped his beer and put his arm behind Peyton on the back of the booth left me perplexed as to what world I’d entered.

  I didn’t get his angle—hell, maybe he didn’t have one.

  Peyton relaxed into Beau’s casual embrace. It was one that claimed her without screaming he’d done it. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind the two had had sex since the last time I saw them—they both glowed with a post-orgasm haze. He was a damn fool for pursuing that. And if I saw it, I was certain Masyn did, too. Yet when Peyton eased into Beau’s side, it didn’t seem to bother Masyn at all.

  I didn’t have a clue what the hell was going on with any of them.

  “I appreciate the offer,” I responded to Peyton.

  “Think about it. It wouldn’t be hard to get another ticket for Friday if you change your mind.”

  Masyn nudged me. “Can you let me out? I need to go to the restroom.”

  I hopped up.

  Beau used the brief intermission to probe. None too casually, I might add. “So…what happened Monday night?”

  “Now’s not a great time to talk about it, Beau. I’ll tell you later.” It was obvious to Peyton I didn’t want to have the discussion in front of her. “She’s not going to be gone long. I don’t want her to come back and hear us talking about her.” I tried to smooth things over, although I sucked at that kind of thing.

  “Fine. I’ll get her to dance with me and ask her myself.” Beau finished his beer and set the bottle at the end of the table for the waitress to pick up.

  “Let it go, Beau. Seriously. It’s been painful enough without you digging into it.”

  Before he could respond, Masyn returned and waited for me to move. As I slid down to allow her a seat on the end, Beau stood and took her hand. Masyn was a sucker for anyone to dance with, and that person was never me. There was nothing unusual about Beau dancing with her; I prayed he kept my name off his tongue and was gentle with whatever information he provided her with about his newfound interest in Peyton. He was leaving on Sunday and wouldn’t have to deal with the shitstorm his wedding and visit to Harden left behind.

  Peyton and I sat in what I considered uncomfortable silence. There were people milling around as the happy-hour crowd mingled and conversations took place around us, yet I was at a total loss for what to say to her.

  “I’m serious about my invitation, Lee. You guys have been so nice to me while I’ve been here; I’d love to reciprocate and show you a little piece of my life.”

  Ignoring her suggestions, I dove right in without any lube to ease the transition. “What’s going on with you and Beau, Peyton? It’s none of my business, and you can do what you want. It seems like an awfully messy relationship right now for either one of you to entertain.”

  She waved me off like it wasn’t a big deal. Yet this was the same girl who said she never dated. And she didn’t know Beau. He was a relationship kind of guy. “It’s harmless.”

  “To who?”

  “We’ve been thrown together in an odd twist of fate. I know once I leave he
re and go home, I won’t see him again.” Famous last words.

  This was the same guy who’d flown to Italy over spring break at the last minute to see Felicity because the idea of being away from her for a whole week was more than he could stand.

  “Does he know that? Or is that your assumption?”

  “Both, I guess. I don’t have any expectations. My parents would freak out if they knew I was even spending time with you guys. You wouldn’t believe all the crap I’ve heard from my mother since they left.” She rolled her eyes like that drama was any different than what would ensue if those two dated.

  “I don’t get the impression he’s thinking that way.”

  “Beau’s life is in Atlanta. Mine’s in New York. Neither one of us is moving. It’s not hurting anyone to have fun while I’m here.” She might not get hurt, but I wasn’t so sure I could say the same for Beau.

  The song Masyn and Beau danced to ended, and they returned to our table. The expressions on both of their faces were hard to read, but I’d say they were confused. It was a three-minute song. Yet in that amount of time, Peyton managed to tell me she was playing around with Beau, so there was no telling what Beau and Masyn had discussed while they were away.

  Masyn took a seat at the same time Beau did.

  “Did we interrupt something?” Masyn’s quizzical stare didn’t make me want to open up in the slightest.

  Peyton smiled at me. “We were discussing Lee making a visit to New York.”

  No, we weren’t. That wasn’t at all what we talked about.

  The silent exchange between Beau and Masyn didn’t sit well with me. Peyton was a nice girl, but she’d brought a tornado into town with her, and I was ready for her to go. I’d tried to be nice. I’d tried to welcome her into our fold. But at the end of the day, she was playing with a bunch of people’s emotions—mine included. And the end result would be people getting hurt.

  “You really should consider it, Lee. You never leave Georgia or Harden for that matter. Some time in the Big Apple could breathe some new life into you. Put things back into perspective,” Beau said.

  My brow furrowed. I’d made it clear I had no interest in Peyton. “Can I talk to you, Beau?” This shit had to stop.

  “Now?” His response surprised me.

  Before I could get out of the booth and yank his ass outside, Lani came to the table to ask about more drinks. Our food sat untouched, and I was at a loss for words. When Lani finally left, he pulled Peyton out of the booth and onto the dance floor completely avoiding me. I stared at the two of them as he took her into his arms, and they laughed about something I couldn’t hear. To an outsider peering in, it sure as hell didn’t look like either one of them was just having fun for a couple of days. I knew my best friend, and he was falling fast—even if he shouldn’t.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Masyn and I stayed at Sadler’s for a while longer and ended up playing pool while Peyton and Beau danced, played darts, and talked to people Beau knew and hadn’t seen in ages. They were far more comfortable together than I’d ever seen him act with Felicity. Yet once we were able to separate from the two for a bit, Masyn and I had a good time doing what we always did.

  Some random guy tried to hit on her, and I made sure he knew she wasn’t interested—I didn’t care if she was or not. Masyn wasn’t my property, but she was my friend, and everyone in town needed to respect her. Then she beat me at four out of five games of pool. I refused to admit it had anything to do with the stitches in my right hand. Personally, I think her accidentally pressing her ass against my crotch and grabbing my sides from behind at critical moments in the game was cheating, but either way, I now owed her omelets and a foot massage. And every time the jukebox stopped playing the two of us raced to drop quarters in the slot and bickered over song choices, because we each hated the music the other one picked.

  It was who we were and had always been. We both complemented the other, she filled my cracks, and I was the glue for hers. Yet none of it was heavy, we were more like light, fluffy marshmallows than thick caramel. I just wished she was the cherry on top of the whole damn sundae.

  When we left—arm in arm—Beau and Peyton sat at the booth talking without a care in the world or a place to be in the morning. Masyn didn’t seem the least bit bothered by Beau’s latest love interest, or that he would leave with another girl. Maybe they’d ironed things out between them when they danced. I didn’t know and wasn’t going to ask. I couldn’t handle another heart explosion from Masyn where Beau was concerned. It wouldn’t hurt my feelings in the least if she didn’t want to talk about anything remotely romantic.

  “Are you okay to drive?” I asked her, already knowing the answer.

  She held out her hand for the keys and looked at me like I was an idiot.

  It didn’t take us long to get in the truck and on our way back to my place.

  I stared at her, trying to keep from begging. “You staying?” It came off rather indifferent. Thankfully, she hadn’t picked up on my hidden emotions.

  She quickly turned in my direction and wagged her brows like a goofball before watching the road again. “Absolutely. You owe me omelets. And a foot rub.”

  I would never admit it to Masyn—or anyone else for that matter, because riding shotgun made me look like a bitch—but there were rare times I enjoyed having her drive. It gave me the freedom to stare at her virtually unnoticed, and she always assumed it was because I was drunk. I wasn’t drunk—I could have driven home. I’d only had two beers in twice as many hours. Normally she kept close tabs on my consumption; tonight, however, she hadn’t.

  I relished any chance I got to touch her when she didn’t see it as intimate. “Are you collecting on the massage tonight?” My tone indicated I hoped she wouldn’t, while my heart hoped she would.

  “Maybe.” She drew out the word teasingly. “Depends on how bad you irritate me between here and there.”

  I reached over and switched the radio station back to country music and turned it up with a smirk.

  Masyn huffed out an amused chuckle. “Oh, so you want to be at my beck and call tonight, huh?” She swatted at my hand.

  “Just hoping I can open your mind to real music one of these days.”

  She pushed the preset button. “Not going to happen.” Masyn ran her tiny hand through her long hair, and I couldn’t help but notice her stained cuticles that matched my own.

  Never in a million years would I have thought I’d find that sexy on a woman. But on her, it knotted my stomach in anticipation, and my heart skipped a beat. A painful beat.

  “Are you really considering a visit to New York?” Her focus stayed on the road; she didn’t even glance at me to catch a reaction.

  “Hadn’t planned on it. Don’t get me wrong, I think it would be fun to go someday.”

  There was a pause that was a beat too long. Masyn wanted to ask a question, but I knew from experience, she wasn’t certain she wanted an answer. “So why not now?”

  “Do you think I should go?” I might throw up if she said yes.

  She shrugged, never taking her eyes off the road. “If you want to.” That was terribly noncommittal.

  I didn’t, and she pulled into my driveway at the perfect time to keep me from answering or continuing this discussion. “Home sweet home,” I chimed, and jumped out before she could stop me.

  Masyn joined me on the porch. She unlocked the door, strolled into my house, and then dropped my keys on the kitchen counter. “It’s not late. You want to go swimming?”

  There wasn’t an ice cube’s chance in hell that I would ever turn down the opportunity to see Masyn half-naked. Ever. “Sure. Let me change. I’ll meet you out back.”

  Not two minutes later, I heard my name echo down the hall like a wolf howling at the moon.

  She didn’t knock, she didn’t wait for me to respond, she simply barged through my door as I pulled my shorts over my ass. “Lee!”

  “What?” I tied the drawstring the best I coul
d using only one thumb and gawked at her like she’d lost her damn mind.

  Her face was beet red, and her chest heaved in what I could only assume was agitation based on the snarl curling her upper lip. “Who’s been in my room?”

  Shit.

  Playing dumb was always a safe way to go where a woman was concerned. Most of them believed men were morons anyhow so I tried to get away with it. “Huh?”

  “Don’t ‘huh’ me. Where’s my white swimsuit?”

  I should have thought through my response before I let it fly out of my mouth. “You mean the dental floss Peyton found in your drawer?” I grabbed the bikini off my dresser where I’d left it after washing it.

  She glanced at the swimsuit, and her expression morphed into horror, or maybe disgust. “Oh my God. You let another woman wear my bikini?” she shrieked. The tone of her voice shot up an octave. If I didn’t think she’d hit me, I’d cover my ears.

  “Is that what you’re calling it?” I dangled the two pieces from my fingers, one on each hand. “Where the hell did you even get something like this? And who the fuck have you been wearing it for at my house?”

  She snatched it from my fingertips with a drastically overexaggerated huff. “Please tell me you washed it!”

  I nodded and folded my arms over my chest, waiting for answers to my other questions. None of which I got. Masyn pivoted on the ball of her foot and pranced down the hall like she hadn’t just come in here like a bat out of hell, raising cane. I decided it was in my best interest to let the questions go for now, since she hadn’t come unglued about Peyton wearing her swimsuit.

  Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, could have prepared me to see Masyn Porter strutting around in that barely-there bikini. My mouth went dry at the sight of her standing by the pool, and all I could think about was slowly untying each one of those strings and watching it fall to the ground to expose what little of her skin it covered. Every inch of her body was perfectly toned and precisely proportioned. And even from the side, the swell of her breasts sent an ache between my legs that I didn’t want to tame. The familiar tightening in my balls and heat flooding my dick only made me want more of what I couldn’t have.