Thursday Nights (The Charistown Series)

by Lisa N. Paul

  Max laughed a deep, hearty laugh for the first time in ages as Gage proceeded to kick his ass at pool…again. But then he got serious. “I already apologized.” Max filled Gage in on what happen at Sunday dinner, and he watched as Gage’s face went tense and red.

  Max didn’t realize his mistake until he saw Gage’s reaction. Now he feared for Kyle’s life even more. “Oh shit, Gage. I’m sorry—I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have told you that.”

  “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” Gage seethed. Max knew that Gage’s interest in Lyla went much deeper than the surface, but he also knew that he wouldn’t get involved with any woman on more than a physical level until he squared away his family issues. And for Gage, Lyla was much more than just physical.

  It sucked to see his best friend alone for so many years, but he totally understood his desire to keep a potential loved one away from the craziness that was his mother. That being said, he knew Gage was protective of Lyla even if he couldn’t have her. Max saw firsthand that Gage wouldn’t stop Lyla from sharing her bed with other men—he had watched the way Gage would quietly breathe while white-knuckling his drink every time Lyla left Danny’s with her man du jour—but he also knew that Sebastian Gage would go out of his way to harm anyone that hurt her. Kyle was in deep shit.

  “Sebastian, I know you’re upset—”

  Gage cut Max off at the start. “Do not emotionally manage me, Max,” he said, blue eyes flaring and voice strained. “I don’t fucking need it. I know you still feel some sort of loyalty to Kyle or…whatever. But Lyla…goddamn it.” His nostrils flared. “She is mine.”

  Max put his hands up in resignation. He knew the look Gage was giving him meant that the conversation was over…at least for now. So he dropped it while Gage practiced what he liked to call his “zen breathing.”

  Max did feel a sense of loyalty to Kyle. No matter how much of an ass-hat he had been lately, Kyle was the one who clued Max in to Chloe’s cheating. At the time, Kyle and Max had just met, and Kyle recognized a picture of Chloe that Max had taped to the bar. A stunned Kyle explained that his friend was dating her. Had it not been for Kyle, who knows what would have happened. In hindsight, Chloe probably would have tried to pass the baby off as his if he hadn’t found out. Kyle stood by and supported Max when his life went to hell and had been by his side ever since. And Max wasn’t going to give up on Kyle if he was going through a hard time now, either.

  “Okay,” a more relaxed Gage continued. “What happened after Kyle”—he actually snarled Kyle’s name—“fucked with Lyla to the point where she left her own damn house?”

  Max relayed every detail he could from going to Janie’s house to Janie having had no communication with Lyla—which, again, he mentally kicked himself for when he saw the murderous look reappear in Gage’s eyes—and how broken and lost Janie had looked.

  “I told her I wanted to be there for her…as a friend. But she looked at me with those eyes…” He could feel a physical reaction from just the mental picture he was drawing. He didn’t verbalize the rest of the story. He didn’t say that his instinct was to support and comfort her, and that is what he did. Multiple times. Those were secrets he didn’t want to share even with his best friend. As his memory began to clear, his focus shifted back to a now-smiling Gage.

  “So…again, I seem to be missing the problem,” Gage said, genuinely confused.

  Max looked at Gage, annoyed. Was he being purposely obtuse? “Gage,” Max said, raising his voice. “I can’t do that again. I can’t fall in love with her. I refuse.”

  Gage looked soberly at his best friend and said with such simplicity, “Look in the mirror, brother. It’s too late. You already have.”

  Max grabbed his glass and downed his drink in one swallow. He was pissed at the truth Gage spoke, and anger took over reason as he glared at his friend with as heartless a grin as he could muster. “That’s where you’re wrong. Janie Silver and I are just friends, Gage. Friends who fucked. We had our time together, and it was great, but when it was done, I left. If she can’t deal, that’s her problem. I haven’t called her, and I haven’t seen her. It was fun, and now it’s over. Case closed.”

  “Thanks for the bulletin, Max.” The sweet, sexy voice that haunted his dreams and starred in his fantasies sounded from behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He didn’t have to turn around to know exactly who it was, and after what he’d just said, he didn’t want to, but he did.

  The pain of his words were etched on her face like the names carved in the tabletop.

  “We were friends, Max.” He flinched at her words, but she continued. “And yes, we had sex…which has now become my biggest regret. So, thanks for that! And now that we’ve ‘fucked,’” Janie said with air quotes, “you can go fuck yourself.”

  Max bolted to a stand, knocking over his drink, and reached out for her. Janie glared at him, her normally sparkling teal-blue eyes flaring with anger and betrayal, and pulled her arm out of range.

  “Don’t you ever touch me again. Do you hear me? Don’t check on me, don’t sit outside my apartment waiting for me to come home, and don’t talk to me. You’re right, Max. It was fun…and now it’s over.”

  Janie turned around and stormed out of the bar.

  “Fuck!” Max shouted, slamming his fist on the table his roar silencing the once lively bar. Oblivious to the prying eyes, he stared after her, his expression shocked and appalled.

  “I think that went well, no?” Gage said sheepishly.

  Janie had planned to meet some of her co-workers at Choppers to play pool when she saw Max and his friend—who she recognized as the only man in the world Lyla couldn’t approach. Janie hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but when she heard them talking about her she couldn’t help but listen. Head pressed against the steering wheel, she allowed the tears to flow. She had known her relationship with Max was going to be different after their two nights together.

  “What did I think was going to happen?” she asked her empty car, before banging a fist on the wheel. “I thought I might be enough for him…”

  Sobs wracked her body as she replayed Max’s words. We had our time together, and it was great, but when it was done, I left. If she can’t deal, that’s her problem. I haven’t called her, and I haven’t seen her. It was fun, and now it’s over. Case closed.

  His voice had been hard, his words cold. They felt like a bucket of ice water in her face.

  “I am so pathetic,” she said aloud. The need to call Lyla was unbearable, but she restrained. Lyla was trying to meet a deadline, on top of everything else, and the days before her books were due were always the most stressful already. The girls considered them the High Holy Days. Lyla would basically put herself in lockdown—otherwise known as her “Ho-House”—coming out only for the meals that Janie would bring. When she was in the Ho-House the only interruptions allowed were those of the life and death variety. Knowing that this was just an extreme case of bruised ego, she needed to let Lyla work. She could wait until tomorrow or the next day for Lyla, but she needed to talk to someone. Palming her cell phone, she started to dial.

  “Christ, Ryan, can you lower the TV?” Ashley shouted as she lifted the phone receiver. “I like to hear myself come when I’m masturbating…Oh, hey, girl!”

  “Yuck! Ashley, can’t you have those conversations before you pick up the phone?” It didn’t matter how many boundaries Ashley crossed, Janie found herself loving her new friend more and more. While Lyla would always be her best friend and her sister, Janie was realizing that there were other people out there who she could depend on, as well. Ashley and Julie were two of them.

  “Whatever,” Ashley yelled back to who Janie could only assume was Ryan. “You’re not so quiet yourself, Mr. Moan.”

  Janie laughed out loud. Yep, this was exactly the person she needed right then.

  “Ash, can you focus on me for a second?” Janie giggled again, already feeling a little better.

  “Sure thi
ng, love. What’s up? No, Ryan,” she called, “I am not talking about you.” Ashley groaned. “Jesus...self-centered much?”

  “Ash, I really need to get out. I need a friend…preferably someone who will help me man-bash. And preferably with the help of alcohol.” Janie was convinced that Ashley could hear the palpable need in her voice when she told her she would meet her in twenty minutes at Chopper’s.

  “No!” Janie practically shrieked.

  “Okay, not Chopper’s,” Ashley said confused. “Is the Sombrero safe, or is that suddenly creepy too?”

  “Chopper’s isn’t creepy. It’s the person drinking there tonight that I find unfavorable. Sombrero it is—see you in twenty.”

  “That motherfucker!” Ashley shouted over the blaring music being played at the bar. Janie sucked down her margarita sans salt. “That’s it. He’s getting the nut cracker!”

  Ashley swallowed her tequila shot angrily, and Janie laughed at the pinched expression Ashley made when she sucked on the lime. Ashley was no lightweight when it came to drinking; the girl could drink most men under the table, a fact she boasted about frequently, especially when she was already drunk. “What is his problem?”

  Janie shrugged her shoulders at what she presumed was a rhetorical question. “We’ll have another round, please,” she said, gesturing to the bartender.

  “I mean, I know what his fucking problem is.” Ashley’s speech was slightly slurred. “We all do.” Her gaze went from her shot glass to Janie’s inquisitive eyes when her words penetrated her inebriated brain. “No, Janie, don’t ask. I’m buzzed, and if you ask right now, I’ll talk, and it’s not my story to tell.” Ashley slung back her next shot and excused herself to the ladies’ room.

  With Ashley away from the table, Janie used the opportunity to call Ryan. No way could Ashley get herself home safe in her drunken state.

  “I’m sorry, Ryan. This was my fault, and I hate to call you, but you know Ashley, and if I suggest a cab she’ll just try and drive herself home.” Ryan thanked Janie and said to keep Ashley distracted until he got there to pick her up.

  Why can’t all men be like Ryan? Janie thought. That man is protective and wonderful, and they aren’t even a couple.

  “Listen, Jane, honey.” Janie startled, not realizing Ashley had come back from the restroom. “Max has been through emotional hell, but he hasn’t coined it. You know what I mean?” Janie nodded, not really sure she was understanding but wanting Ashley to finish her train of thought before Ryan arrived.

  “What I’m saying is, you have also been through a lot of shit, and here you are willing to try again. If Max isn’t ready, willing, or able that is his problem, not yours.”

  God, Janie thought, no wonder I love this woman so much—she sounds a whole lot like Lyla.

  “My advice, which is why you called me in the first place I’m assuming, is that you listen to the words Max is saying, not what you want them to mean. He said, ‘It was fun…now it’s done.’ So let it be done.”

  “But you didn’t feel what it was like when we were together… It’s hard to believe that I was the only one who felt something.”

  “That boy has been closed up like a beach house longer than I’ve been around,” Ashley said thoughtfully. “I think it’s been something like a decade. You can’t fix him, Janie. You just can’t. He needs to want to open himself back up, take the dust covers off the furniture and open the windows. If at some point, he finally decides to do that, and you are still interested…well, then good for him. Otherwise, it was his opportunity to lose. Do you understand?” Janie stared at Ashley, mute with shock at how reasonable Ashley was being when so inebriated. “Words, Janie. Or at least nod your head.” Ashley winked, and the smile Janie let out radiated warmth through her body.

  “Seriously, Ash, that was the most profound thing I have ever heard you say. You are so not as twisted as you seem.”

  “Shh, don’t tell anyone,” Ashley whispered. “I prefer when people fear me.”

  Just then, Janie saw Ryan making his way into the Sombrero, an amused look on his handsome face. Ashley looked over her shoulder to follow Janie’s gaze.

  “Really, Janie?” Ashley asked. “There was no need to call Romeo, here. I am totally capable of getting myself home.” As if trying to prove her point, Ashley stood up—and promptly lost her balance. A pair of strong, muscled arms wrapped around her waist. Large hands subtly grazed her breasts, steadying her just before her ass hit the terracotta floor.

  “Yeah, Ash, you seem perfectly fine to drive.” Ryan winked his thanks to Janie and led a partially embarrassed, partially annoyed Ashley out of the Sombrero. Ashley mumbled something about this being the thanks she gets for helping a friend in need, but Janie noticed that at no point she did Ashley ever try to disengage from Ryan’s embrace.

  Janie lay in her bed replaying the night’s events. So much had happened and not all of it was horrible. With heavy lids, Janie thought about what Ashley said. She just may have a point after all. It was time to start living her life, not waiting for some guy to get his shit together. She was twenty-eight years old; she had a great job, a nice apartment, Lyla, and some wonderful new friends. It was time to start enjoying what she had instead of wishing for the things she didn’t have.

  That night, Janie fell asleep for the first time in her life with a calm, quiet mind.

  Stoopid Girls

  The next day, Janie arrived at school early. She had gotten up before her alarm went off and spent a few extra minutes on her hair and makeup. Lyla always said to “fake it till you make it,” so that is exactly what Janie intended to do. The first half of the day flew by, and finally she was sitting in the teacher’s lounge with her lunch tray and her e-reader.

  “May I join you, Ms. Silver?” a baritone voice crooned behind her. Janie jumped in surprise–– she hadn’t heard anyone come in.

  “Mr. Michaels, of course, you may. How has the week been treating you? Any more interactions with junior high girls from Venus?” Janie asked playfully. He laughed deeply, making Janie’s smile grow wider.

  “ They’re still relentless, but I have headed your advice.”

  Janie listened and watched him carefully. There was something about him that intrigued her. So she spent the rest of the lunch break, and the prep period that followed lunch, in fun and friendly conversation with him.

  “Okay, I will totally deny ever admitting this, but I loved that movie too.” His deep, rich laugh sent a warm feeling through Janie’s veins.

  “I’ll take it to the grave, Michaels,” she said, smiling as she reached for her water bottle.

  “So, Ms. Silver…” He looked deeply into her blue eyes.

  “Yes, Mr. Michaels?” Janie answered breathlessly.

  “I was wondering if you would have any interest in going out with me tonight?”

  Janie’s smile faded. “I…I’m sorry, I can’t.”

  Before she could finish her statement, he put his hands up, embarrassment covering his face. “I’m sorry. I should have asked if you were with someone. You’re beautiful, intelligent, and funny—of course you’re involved. Please forgive me.”

  Janie could see the disappointment flash over his sexy features, and then instantly, it was gone and replaced with a mask of indifference. He moved to grab his trash when Janie placed her hand on his and leaned over to force eye contact.

  “Michaels,” she said softly. “I’m not with anyone…I thought maybe something was happening with someone, but it turns out I was the only one fall—”

  He interrupted her thought with his own. “What an idiot.”

  Janie looked back at him and continued. “What I’m telling you is, yes, I would love to go out with you…I just can’t tonight.” She could see his face relax and his shoulders loosen.

  “How about Saturday night?” he asked.

  With a shy grin spreading over her lips, she replied, “I would love that.”

  He took her hand and studied her face. “Can I a
sk for one more thing?” With a smile Janie nodded. “Can we use each other’s first names now? It feels dirty every time you call me Mr. Michaels.”

  The laughter poured out of her like water from a pitcher. “Yes, Owen. You can call me Janie.”

  “Until Saturday, then, Janie.” Owen squeezed her hand and left the teacher’s lounge.

  Janie sat there with a bloom of warmth growing in her belly. Had that really just happened? Holy shit! Fuck the Ho-House, Lyla was getting a text…and so was Ashley!

  God, I hope she comes here tonight, Max thought to himself. Janie had been on his mind nonstop since their run-in at Chopper’s two days ago, and he needed to apologize to her. She needed to know that he didn’t mean any of what he said. He had tried to call her, but his calls went straight to voice mail, and his text went unanswered. He couldn’t blame her for avoiding him. Hell, he could barely look at himself in the mirror.

  “Max,” Danny growled after calling him into the office and closing the door behind him. “Sit down, son.”

  That was never a good sign. But Max had no idea what was coming. He was scrolling through his mind like a Rolodex trying to pinpoint what he could have done at work to upset Danny. He kept coming up blank.

  “Um, I would rather stand, Danny,” Max said sounding like a nervous teenager.

  “Sit your ass down, boy,” Danny ordered, and Max sat. “Look, Max, we’ve known each other a long time. I like you as a person, I trust you with my business, and I love you like a son. Right?” Max nodded, and Danny patted Max on the leg. “Good, good...then take this with the love I mean when I say you are acting like a selfish ass.”

  Max flinched from the verbal slap.

  “Since the day we met, you have been an amazing, generous man. You loved that wife of yours until it almost destroyed you. You gave to her even when you had nothing left to give. After she died, even after what she did to you, you still loved her. But you never talked about her. You just kept it inside and let it eat away at you. You worked for me and with Gage until you were physically exhausted and your hands were bleeding. We had to forcefully remove you from work. Do you remember that?”