by RB Hilliard
“She told them that?” Olivia screeched.
I glanced at Alex-Ann, who was staring straight at me. I needed to say something. As if sensing my inner dilemma, she shook her head and mouthed, “Later.”
“No. She told them she was with her good friend, Baxter, and the dickhead corroborated her story. I need a beer,” he muttered. Bobby held out a cold one. I watched as Evan walked over to where Bobby was standing and took the bottle.
While the guys huddled by the ice bucket, I got the grill started. Once again, my mind raced with uncertainty. I really should say something.
Chaz eventually broke away from the huddle. As he headed for Olivia, Alex-Ann whined from her pool float, “I thought you were going to play for us?”
“We were until that phone call,” Chaz grumbled.
“Well, at least turn the radio on or something,” Gretchen slurred.
“I’ll put something on,” I announced. It gave me an excuse to catch my breath.
I didn’t realize he was behind me until I reached the door and saw his shadow looming over me.
“I’m pretty sure I can handle the music by myself, Rock Star,” I told him. In a rather stealthy maneuver, his hand slid under mine and latched onto the handle.
“Evan—”
“She lied,” he murmured, his voice laced with fury.
“Let’s get inside.”
He kept talking. “She wasn’t with Baxter. She was here, paying me back for fucking up her floor and...for taking the damn car from her.” The last part came out in a rush of pent up air. I stared at the door, wondering what to do. Should I run? Should I call for Chaz? He pressed his forehead to my back, right between my shoulder blades, and my heart hammered ninety to nothing in my chest.
“She cheated and lied for who knows how long and I had no fucking idea. What does that say about me?” The vibration from his voice reverberated through my body.
I let out a loud huff, and twisting around to face him, said, “Okay, now you’re just talkin’ crazy. That woman is nuttier than a porta potty at a peanut festival. She cheated on you, not the other way around. She’s the two-timing ho bag, and if I was you, I wouldn’t give her a cent of my money.” His shocked expression would have been funny if it wasn’t directed at me.
“Nuttier than a porta potty at a what?” he asked.
“Peanut festival. You’ve never heard that before?” His response was a loud burst of laughter. He bent at the waist and dropped his hands to his knees, all while laughing like a loon.
“I need a shot,” I muttered, which only seemed to make him laugh harder.
I’d barely made it through the door when I felt his hand on my arm. Suddenly, I was in his arms with my face squished against his chest—his very bare, solidly muscular chest.
“What are you doing?” I asked, only it sounded more like “Whardoin.”
“Thank you for being here. I’m sorry I lost my cool earlier and I’m sorry about Chaz. He doesn’t have a filter. I promise he’s a good guy, but he takes some getting used to.” The vibration of his voice made my nipples pebble. He was so warm and felt so good. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been held by a man. Just this once, I thought as I slowly wrapped my arms around him and returned the hug.
“I’m sorry about your wife. I know you love her and I’m so sorry you’re hurting right now. I wish I could make it better for you.” I glanced up as his arms loosened. Our eyes connected, collided, clashed. A ripple of excitement barreled through me followed by a feeling of unease. The look on his face, the heat behind his green-eyed stare, caused my breath to catch in my throat. A million butterflies danced inside my body. We shouldn’t be doing this.
“Evan—” He pressed his fingers to my lips, cutting off my words, which was a good thing because I hadn’t figured out what to say just yet.
“Let’s get one thing straight. Right here. Right now. I cared for my wife. Cared, being past tense. Was I hurt? Hell yes. I spent nine years with her. I’m no longer hurt, though. I’m angry. Before she brought her shit to your doorstep, I was going to give her what she wanted. Now, I’m not.” His arms tightened around me. “I know you feel this. To deny it would make you a liar and we both know how you feel about liars.” Great, now he was throwing my own words back at me. Note to self: no more heart felt confessions. I tried to break free from his clutches, but the man had a death grip on me, so instead, I settled for a glare. He returned it with a smile, the turd.
“Not tryin’ to point out the obvious or anything, but even if I did have feelings for you, which is debatable right at this moment, you’re married.” His smile widened until it lit up his beautiful face, and the butterflies once again took flight.
“I am, which is the only reason we’re still standing here and not upstairs in my bedroom right now.” A laugh flew from my mouth. Pretty sure of himself, wasn’t he?
“No, the reason we’re not upstairs in your bedroom is because I have other things to do, such as turn on some music and down at least three shots. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna do just that.” He released me so fast, I almost toppled over. Before he did something like snatch me back and before I did something like let him, I bolted from the room.
“I’m getting divorced, Quinn,” he called after me.
“Good for you,” I snapped.
“After that, I’m coming for you.” He’s what?
I bolted back into the room to let him have it but found him already out the door.
“Shit,” I whispered. Then I smiled. After that, I went to find the liquor.
CHAPTER NINE
“Soul To Squeeze”
Evan
I’d thrown down the gauntlet. It was shitty timing, but I saw the look on Quinn’s face. One minute she was interested and the next she was worried about getting buried underneath Mandy’s bullshit. She was right to be wary. I was a married man, and even though I wanted out, I still planned to honor my vows to the bitter end. This way, when I walked away, and there was no doubt I was walking away, I would do so with my head held high and my integrity intact. Once that happened, I would be free.
“Freedom can come at a bitch of a price.” Grant once said. I didn’t get it then, but I sure as hell understood now. He wasn’t talking about money. He was talking about a man’s soul. About what one was willing to give up to get what they wanted. I may not have married Mandy for love, but I’d grown to deeply care for her. And even though it had never been overly passionate and all-consuming between us, we’d built a life together. In doing so, we’d formed a solid union. At least, I thought we had.
I couldn’t blame it all on Mandy, though. I was far from the perfect husband. I’d lied about trying out for Meltdown and then left her behind when I went on tour. My sin was wanting too much and hers was wanting too little. Irony, the little fucker, was sure as hell getting the last laugh, because while I was busy beating myself up about leaving, Mandy was off screwing someone else. Not only that, but if I hadn’t come home during Christmas break, I never would have gone to Margo’s with my brother, and I never would have met Quinn.
Six months ago, if someone would have told me I was going to meet a sexy, gray-eyed country girl with the spirit of a lioness and the hair to match, who wasn’t afraid to tell me exactly how she felt, I would have laughed in their faces.
Quinn Kinley: bar owner; ego crusher; ball buster.
The woman had single handedly pulled me from the depths of my despair, and in doing so, had somehow managed to capture the one thing Mandy never could—my heart. She was all I could think about. Her humor, her willingness to listen, her unshakable sense of right and wrong, were just a few of the many things that attracted me to her. She looked at me as if I was something special, and for the first time in my life, I felt special. So call me stupid, I was going for it. Well, not going, going. I couldn’t do that just yet, but I could sure as shit stake my claim.
Right as I hit the pool area, Chaz took one look at the smile on my face, and
shouted, “Someone got himself a little somethin’ somethin’!”
“Fuck off,” I responded, trying not to laugh. The guy really was a shithead.
“Are you going to play, or do I need to turn on the music?” Quinn shouted from the top of the steps. I detected a slight slur in her voice, which meant she wasn’t joking about the shots. Chuckling to myself, I thought, something tells me she’s done more than three.
“Play!” the girls all shouted from their pool floats. I glanced over at Chaz and he shrugged.
I guess that meant we were playing.
It took twenty minutes for all of us to make it inside the pool house. This was because pain in the ass, Alex-Ann, refused to sit on the hard floor and insisted on moving pool lounges inside. By the time everyone was situated, Quinn was back with shot glasses and three bottles of liquor.
Staring at Chaz, I asked, “How do you want to do this?”
“I know!” Alex-Ann shouted. “We each get a song selection. If you know how to play it, the selector has to drink a shot, but if you dooooon’t,” she sang like a goof, “you both have to take a shot.”
“I’m pretty sure he was asking me,” Chaz stated. Alex-Ann gave him a look.
“I like her idea,” Olivia defended.
“Okay, well, what if I know the song and Evan doesn’t?” Chaz asked. Leave it to Chaz to fuck with them.
“Then he shoots, and you don’t,” Alex-Ann snapped, as if he’d asked the most absurd question ever.
“But will you be able to tell? I mean, we’re pretty good at improvising.” Her smirk faded to uncertainty and Chaz smiled.
“He’s messing with you,” Quinn said, handing her a bottle of what looked like Tequila. “Here, take a shot.” Alex-Ann gave Chaz a scathing look before tipping the bottle and downing a hell of a lot more than a shot. I saw where this night was headed.
“I go firsh!” Gretchen, who was already fifteen sheets to the wind, slurred.
“Wait! Are we adding lyrics or not?” I asked.
“Lyrics!” the girls shouted in unison.
“Laaaaadies, let’s not get too crazy here,” I drawled.
“If we add lyrics, then we’re only responsible for the chorus,” Chaz added.
“Fine! I want ‘I was Jack!’” Gretchen shouted. At least, I was pretty sure that’s what she’d said. I hadn’t the foggiest clue what song she was talking about, so I launched into “Hit the Road Jack.” Chaz joined in and I almost pissed myself when we got to the chorus and he belted it out in his best Ray Charles imitation. Quinn and Olivia laughed, while the rest of the crowd stared at us in confusion.
“That wasn’t my sowng,” Gretchen announced, her tone all serious.
“I wanted ‘I was Jack.’”
“Well, since you didn’t bother to give us the name of the artist, you forfeit your turn. Next!” Chaz called out.
“‘Girls Like You’ by Maroon 5!” Olivia shouted. Chaz shot me a look, which Olivia intercepted. “What? I love that song,” she whined.
“Ooooh, can I do Cardi B’s part?” Alex-Ann asked.
“Baby,” Chaz murmured. “Come sit on Daddy’s lap.” Alex-Ann made a gagging noise and Quinn burst into hysterics. Chaz scowled at them both, which in turn, made everyone else laugh.
“I was enjoying Ray Charles,” Tut grumbled. Bobby was now crying he was laughing so hard. With a loud huff, Chaz settled Olivia between his thighs, and launched in with a beat. I counted to ten before jumping in. Since both of us knew the words to the song, we didn’t bother to wait for the chorus. By the chorus, however, the entire room, including Tut, I might add, had joined in.
“Drink!” Chaz shouted when the song was over and smiled when Olivia took a healthy swig of Jack Daniels.
“Next!” I called out.
“Curtis Mayfield’s ‘Superfly,’” Tut said with a knowing grin on his face. I didn’t even try. I just held out my hand and waited for Alex-Ann to pass over the tequila bottle.
“And here I thought you two were musicians,” Tut complained.
“I knew that one,” Chaz muttered.
Olivia jerked her head around and asked, “Really?”
“Fuck no,” he growled. He held out his hand, and for the first time ever, I saw him take a drink. “Next!” he shouted and then added, “And obscure seventies music is now banned.”
“Elton John’s ‘Tiny Dancer,’” Quinn called out. Of course, my groin responded to her voice. If all it took for me to get a boner was hearing Quinn speak, then I was in a world of trouble. Our eyes connected and we both smiled, the memory of that night still fresh in our minds.
“I love that song!” Alex-Ann shrieked, and began singing the lyrics at the top of her lungs.
“New rule!” Chaz shouted, cutting off her serenade. “You have to wait for the music before singing, or you drink. Drink!” he ordered, pointing his drumstick at Alex-Ann.
“No fair. You just made up the rule,” she whined.
“And you broke it. Now, drink.” Surprisingly, she did. Olivia, who was still sitting on his lap, didn’t look too happy. She turned and whispered something in his ear and he laughed. Then he launched into a slow beat. I caught Quinn’s eye and winked. Then I began playing. Chaz, sensing the song meant something to the two of us, let me sing it.
As the last note was played, no one said a word.
“I could just sit here for days and listen to you sing,” Alex-Ann murmured through a breathy sigh.
“Thank you,” Quinn mouthed.
“Drink up,” I mouthed back, and she laughed. With every look, smile, and laugh, she pulled me deeper into her universe.
“Shit, I’m druuuuuunk,” Gretchen moaned.
“One more,” Bobby called out. “I want Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’” I flicked my eyes to Chaz and he smiled. If Bobby was trying to stump us, he’d picked the wrong song to do it with.
“Yes!” Olivia shouted as she clapped her hands and bounced up and down on Chaz’s lap. We both knew that Chaz was about to blow their minds.
We started off slow, just to get warmed up. One thing people didn’t know about Chaz Jones, is his amazing voice. The moment the tempo sped up, the girls shot to their feet and began dancing around the room. Chaz and I played off of each other, him singing the high notes and me the low. Hell, even Bobby and Tut joined in. When the song was over, everyone drank.
Later, while Bobby was grilling burgers, my brother called. We hadn’t spoken in weeks, mostly because I’d refused to return his calls. Being that I was already halfway to hammered, I answered the call, and in conversation, told him we were having a party and to stop by. He took me up on the offer and even brought Jason and Mike with him. Jason immediately latched on to Alex-Ann and Mike headed straight for the alcohol. After saying a few words to Quinn, Ehren found me.
He dropped down beside me onto the pool lounge. “Are you ever going to speak to me again?”
“Not if you’re going to keep criticizing my life choices,” I responded.
“I’m not. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Glancing sideways at him, I asked, “Do I look okay? ‘Cause I’ve gotta say, I feel pretty damn good.”
“Is that the booze talking, or the truth?” he asked, his lip twitching with humor.
“Right now, it’s both.” His chuckle made me smile.
“Mandy’s getting married,” I lobbed at him.
He jerked his eyes from a half-naked, passed out Gretchen back to me. “You got the divorce?”
“Nope.”
His brow furrowed. “I don’t get it.”
“You know she was cheating, right?” He nodded. “Well, apparently, she’s engaged and planning on getting married in Vegas in October.”
“What the hell? She can’t do that!” he exclaimed. I loved when little brother got all bent out of shape about shit.
“Can I tell you something? I wish she would, because then I would be free of her.”
“What are you two over here wh
ispering about?” Quinn asked.
“Nothing,” Ehren quickly responded.
“You,” I said at the same time. She narrowed her eyes at me and I smiled.
I wasn’t quite sure when the party went off the rails. I just know that one minute we were all hanging out by the pool drinking, and the next, Quinn and I were wasted off our asses in the kitchen making chocolate chip cookies. After eating them all, we stumbled upstairs.
“Night, Rock Star,” she slurred. I watched her stumble to her room.
“Night Country,” I whispered back. One day, I thought.
The sound of Alex-Ann’s laughter woke me.
“Make her stop,” Ehren groaned from beside me. Quinn’s best friend topped the Richter scale as the most annoying human on the face of the planet.
For fear of my head exploding in my skull, I slowly turned it in his direction, and asked, “Why are you in the bed with me?”
“Where else was I supposed to sleep?”
“Uhhh, your own place,” I responded, as if the answer wasn’t obvious.
“After doing like a million shots with Bobby, I wasn’t about to drive home. That guy is a drinking machine, by the way. I was practically licking the floor and he was just getting started. Jason got the sofa, so I all but crawled up the stairs and took the other half of your bed. You’re right, this mattress is the shit.”
“Stop talking,” I warned.
After a long pause, he said, “You really like her.” I thought about what to say and settled for the truth.
“I’ve barely scratched the surface and already feel more for her than I ever felt for Mandy.”
“Ouch,” he muttered.
“I know. It’s sad, but it’s true. Mandy didn’t know me. She never even tried. She took the few things she liked and threw away the rest. Not Quinn. She wants it all and I want to give it to her.”
“I’m happy for you, bro.” I could tell he meant it.
“Hold your happiness until I’m officially divorced, then you can let it fly,” I muttered. He laughed.
With a groan, he pulled himself up to a seated position. I wasn’t ready for such a bold maneuver, just yet.
