100 PROOF

by Shanora Williams

  I climbed in and started it up, dragging a palm over my face, but before I could pull off, Vin appeared in front of my car, holding a hand up.

  “Marley, wait!” he shouted.

  “No!” I barked. “Move! Now!”

  I nudged the gas, and he jumped back several steps. He didn’t move out of my way, though. Instead he walked to my window and knocked on it. My anger was still bubbling over. I didn’t look at him.

  How could I? I was embarrassed, and the only reason I was embarrassed was because he knew the truth.

  “Go away, Vin. Please,” I begged.

  “No.” His voice was muffled. “Roll your window down.”

  My finger twitched. I had the urge to roll it down.

  Damn it.

  I rolled it down, only halfway.

  “I’m sorry, Marley. I didn’t mean what I said.” His voice was gentle, like he was trying to tame a wild cat.

  “Yes, you did,” I whispered. “You meant every single word of it.”

  He was quiet for a moment, so quiet that I picked my head up to make sure he hadn’t left. He was already looking at me, and I could see the guilt swirling in his eyes.

  “Didn’t you say he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  A smile weaved across his lips. “Let me ride with you.”

  I frowned. “Where?”

  “Anywhere. Let’s do something. Let me make it up to you.”

  “You can’t make anything up to me, Vin—Vin!” I shouted, but he was already walking around the front of my car to get to the passenger door. His knuckles tapped on the window and I let out an agitated breath, pressing the unlock button.

  He climbed in and buckled up right away. “I didn’t drive here anyway,” he told me. “So be a good future sister-in-law and drive me to my hotel—or anywhere.” He grinned like the Cheshire cat, and I wanted slap it right off his beautiful face.

  “Did you even pay?” I demanded.

  “Left some money on the table. Should cover it.”

  I sighed, keeping a straight face, but deep down I was all mixed up. My heart was booming in my chest, my pulse swimming in my ears. With him so close and his cologne filling the confines of my car, I was forced to roll my windows down just to breathe again. I couldn’t believe how much my body still craved him.

  I couldn’t take it. It reminded me too much of the past—of the old memories. Of the times when he used to let me drive his car around the Laguna area and even around Los Angeles, with the music loud and the wind tousling our hair.

  Those used to be magical nights.

  I looked over, and he was already looking at me. “What are you waiting for? Drive.”

  “You never said where to.”

  He thought on it. “What do you do during all your free time now?”

  I looked through the windshield, smiled a little, and then started driving. I probably should have thought it through, but I didn’t see the point. It would be a quick stop and then I’d drop him off at his hotel. Simple.

  “I’ll show you,” I said, driving away from the restaurant, hoping I wouldn’t regret this decision later.

  MARLEY

  As soon as I pulled up to the bleached brick home, I shut the car off and opened the door, climbing right out. Vin followed my lead without a word, looking towards the building.

  I sifted through my keys, searching for the one to unlock the front door. As I met up to it and stuck the key in the lock, Vin stepped up right behind me, brushing his groin against my hip.

  “Sorry.” His voice was deep and laced with laughter.

  I rolled my eyes, knowing he’d done it on purpose.

  Pushing the door open, I walked inside, my heels clicking on the linoleum. Vin came in after me, and I glanced at him as he looked all around, at the sculptures and paintings. The walls were an eggshell white, the vaulted ceiling lined with skylights, highlighting the artwork inside. It was a two-bedroom home, really small but comfortable.

  “This is your place?” he asked, stepping past me and rubbing one of the clay sculptures.

  “Yeah.” He turned to look at me. “It’s my art studio. I come here every day to draw, paint, or sculpt something.”

  “And let me guess . . . Lloyd is paying for this place?”

  “Actually, no. I bought it with my own money.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me like he didn’t believe me. “How?”

  “Saved up and used the money my Nana had left in a trust for me from her bakery. I made pretty good money as a flight attendant too. Sometimes I worked overtime. I moved here when I left from Cali. My training classes for flight attending happened here and I found this state pretty comfortable. I found this place, but when I did, it was an absolute dump. There wasn’t even a front door when I bought it, and the floors were water damaged. Some of the windows were busted. This house belonged to the previous owner’s grandmother but he didn’t want to deal with fixing it up so he sold it at a really low price. He wanted it off his hands as soon as possible.”

  “Wow,” he huffed out, looking all around the room. “You fixed it up well. Did Lloyd help you?”

  I started to smile, but it fell when he asked that. “He . . . doesn’t know about it. I hired some people to help.”

  He walked towards a stool and sat with a small smirk. “Why is that?”

  “Because it’s my private place. It’s where I come when I need to escape. Plus, if he knew,” I sighed, “he would probably tell me to sell it—try and set up one of the rooms in our house as a studio just to keep me there.”

  “You get tired of being there,” he noted, face serious.

  “That, and I also can’t let go of this place.” I looked around, stepping into the sunlight. “When I got the keys to it, I felt so much pride. Granted, it was worth less than thirty grand, but it was worth it. I was lucky to find it.”

  “You really think he’d make you sell it?” he asked, standing and walking around one of the tables. “Actually—you know what? Don’t even answer that question. I already know he would make you. He’s an asshole, and that’s what assholes do. They crush and kill dreams.”

  I fought a smile.

  “I’m glad you did this,” he told me. “I can feel the love here.”

  “Thanks.” I crossed my fingers. “He’s not such a bad guy, Vin,” I said, resting my elbows on the table.

  All he could do was laugh dryly and roll his eyes.

  “What is it with you two, anyway? Why is there so much hate? I don’t get it. If I had a brother or sister, we would be really tight. Our bond would be unbreakable.”

  He rolled the handle of a paintbrush beneath his palm on the tabletop, eyeing me. “Long story. We weren’t always like this, though. I will say that.”

  My lips twisted. “He thinks you’re going to ruin the wedding.”

  He shrugged. “I just might. It’s bullshit anyway.”

  “Vin,” I said, voice serious, eyes hard. I stood up straight again.

  He laughed. “What? I’m just kidding, Marley. Sheesh.” I eased up as he continued laughing. “Though it would be priceless to see the dumb look on his face. Him and his dickhead of a father.”

  I blew out a heavy breath, resting my lower back against the table and folding my arms as he walked around me. “So, when are you going to fly back to Cali?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure. I’m in no rush to get back.” He walked towards one of the paintings on the wall. When I realized the direction he was going in and which one he had his eyes on, I pushed my back off the table and stepped forward, ready to stop him . . . but something told me not to.

  “That’s your house,” he said, still staring at it.

  My palms tingled. “Yeah.”

  “Looks just like it.” He peered over his shoulder at me. “You miss it there?”

  “Not that house. Just California in general.”

  “You know what I miss?” he asked, turning around.

  “I�
�m not sure if I should even bother asking,” I laughed.

  “I miss when you used to paint at my place—on the balcony, remember? I loved watching you. You were so passionate. You would get so quiet and so into it that I’d have to come and check on you to make sure you were okay.”

  “Yeah, well,” I breathed out, “those days are long gone.”

  “Are they?” he questioned, stepping towards me. He was two steps away, looking down at me with a wicked smile.

  “Yes,” I answered, doing my best to assert my tone. He lingered in front of me, breathing softly, holding my gaze. He didn’t say a word, but those eyes shouted it all. I could read the words in them like a page from a book.

  I want you.

  I miss you.

  I need you.

  I fucking love you.

  I clutched my keys in hand and stepped back, ignoring the small spark of heat flowing in my veins. “So, I showed you what I do during my free time. You ready to be dropped off at your hotel now?”

  He wore a small smile. “Sure. If that’s what you want to do with me.”

  My belly coiled tight. I didn’t even bother giving him a comeback. I knew he was trying to trick me into saying something wrong. I knew all of his games, and as if he sensed that I knew, he broke out in laughter, following me out of the art studio and to the car again.

  “Such a jackass,” I mumbled when we were in the car.

  “That will never change, Bob Marley.”

  I rolled my eyes and started the car, driving away. I couldn’t handle any more of the nicknames. No more laughing and feeling too comfortable around him. I had to get him back to his hotel before I ended up sinking into tempting quicksand.

  He was the first person I’d brought to my art studio. Ever. I don’t know why I did. Perhaps it was because I knew he would never tell Lloyd—or any of his family— about it.

  Or maybe it was because I wanted to show him that at least one of my dreams had come true by leaving California behind.

  I’d told him many times that I wanted to open my own studio and, one day, start classes. He encouraged it and believed in me.

  By the look in his eyes, I could tell he was happy for me and that this secret, along with many others, was safe with him.

  MARLEY

  We didn’t go straight to his hotel. Of course we didn’t. He made up a thousand excuses about how he first needed to stop by the bank, and then by the store for more body wash because he’d “run out.” Oh, and I can’t forget him needing to go to the mall to purchase a new pair of Jordans that’d just been released.

  I had a manicure appointment set up and since we were already out and I didn’t have time in between to drop him off at the hotel, he decided to tag along with me. He sat in the waiting area and could see me from where he sat.

  Vin didn’t get impatient like Lloyd did the one time he tagged along, begging me to hurry up because he wanted to go home. Vin just watched. I pretended he wasn’t there, but I felt his eyes on me from behind, the heaviness weighing down, like strong, warm fingers, caressing my back and the nape of my neck.

  We were finished within an hour, which made it about five in the afternoon by the time we got back to his hotel. He had no more excuses and, frankly, knowing he had to go made me feel kind of . . . weird.

  Despite the past, the mini-argument at breakfast, and the current situation we were in, it was a good day, and I hadn’t had one of those in a really long time.

  “This is me,” he announced when I pulled into a parking spot in the front of the building.

  “Yep.” I pressed my lips tight, squeezing the steering wheel.

  He exhaled, looking sideways towards the hotel. “I will probably leave tomorrow.”

  “Oh yeah? I thought there was no rush.”

  He smiled softly. “There isn’t, but I shouldn’t stay here any longer than I have to.”

  I swallowed thickly, nodding. “I understand.”

  Silence fell down on us, thick and slightly uncomfortable. I squeezed the steering wheel again, waiting for him to get out or speak or do something.

  Finally, he released a ragged breath and grabbed the door handle. He opened the door and started to climb out. My racing heart slowed in speed when he paused, looking back at me.

  “If I asked you to come join me at the bar for a drink or two, would it be too much to ask? And when I say drinks, I mean some soda for myself while you down a few cold ones.”

  “That doesn’t sound very fun for you,” I laughed.

  He shrugged like he didn’t care.

  I blinked rapidly, looking from him to the hotel entrance. “Now?”

  “Nothing too deep, I promise,” he said, sitting back. “I just know if I go to my room and sit there, I’ll want to drink and . . . well . . .,” he scratched the back of his head, “drinking isn’t something I should do right now. I need to be monitored.”

  “Monitored?” I gave him a you’re-so-full-of-shit look.

  He smirked. “Yes. If someone is around me, I tend to do better with avoiding it. I used to hide and ignore bars but the therapist told me pretending they aren’t there won’t help. Now, when I go, I order soda. It’s liberating as fuck, honestly—knowing I didn’t crack under the pressure of all those bottles staring back at me, all the people drinking around me. Zay goes with me sometimes. He gets it.”

  I inhaled deep and strong before releasing it. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Vin.”

  “I’ll buy,” he offered with a lopsided smile.

  “It’s not that. I just . . . well, you know how things are when I drink with you. I don’t want to end up wrecking my car by the end of the night.”

  He smirked. “Trust me. I won’t let that happen again.”

  I fought a laugh, teeth sinking into my bottom lip.

  “Just let me buy you one. It seems like you need it. You’re so damn tense lately.”

  I looked down at my lap, and then over at my cellphone in the cup holder. It hadn’t rung all day. Not one text message or call.

  I didn’t have shit else to do after this anyway. I would go straight home, shower the day away, and crawl into bed, watching soap operas or my guilty pleasure, Ridiculousness.

  I unclipped my seatbelt and shut the engine off before I could think too much about it. When I grabbed the door handle and stepped out, Vin came out with me, smiling over the top of the car like he couldn’t believe this was really happening.

  “I’m monitoring you. That’s it,” I declared. “Don’t get any big ideas.”

  I could tell he was trying hard not to laugh. Instead, he stepped up to my side when I rounded the car and we walked into the hotel.

  “Thanks,” was all he said, but when I glanced sideways, he was grinning.

  I couldn’t believe I was eating right out of the palm of his hand like this. But I told myself I was stronger. Smarter. I could handle myself around Vin. I knew all about him. I knew his habits and even what he was thinking before he said it sometimes. He may have changed a few things, but he was still that same old Vincent Chambers.

  It was funny how easily I could make up excuses to be around him. I should have known better. Lloyd would have pitched a fit, but even knowing that, I didn’t care. I would never tell. Plus, he didn’t know about our past. He didn’t exactly tell me I had to avoid him either.

  It’d been a while since I had a good, hard drink.

  With the wedding coming up and everything happening so swift and chaotically, it felt necessary right now. One night to unleash and unwind. One night to myself, out of the house. One night to feel like me again.

  That’s what I told myself, but deep down I knew the few drinks shared with Vin were probably going to be my ruin, and like an idiot, I kept going, walking with sin right by my side.

  • • • • •

  Sitting at the bar with him wasn’t so bad.

  He ordered a Coke and asked for a tray of peanuts to hold him over. I went with a Screwdriver, one of my favori
tes. I was on my first, and had already told myself I would stop at two and then go straight home.

  “So you quit the drugs completely?” I asked, running my finger over the rim of my glass. “The pills, the coke . . . even the weed?”

  His smile was faint. “The pills and coke, yes. It’s what got me put into rehab in the first place . . . along with being slightly tipsy.” He shrugged. “The weed I still smoke from time to time. It calms me down, keeps me level.”

  “I guess that isn’t so bad. Can’t get into too much trouble with that.”

  “Nope.” He sipped his drink. It was weird. I could tell he was pretending it was something much, much stronger. I almost felt bad for drinking right in front of him, but he swore it was okay when I almost didn’t order.

  I shifted on my stool, picking up my glass and finishing off my first drink.

  “So . . . you and Lloyd,” he started, and my heart sank. “He said you met on a flight, but how did you two happen exactly?”

  I side-eyed him briefly and then pointed my gaze up at the flat screen. “You really want to know, or are you just asking to be nice?”

  “I really want to know.” I could tell by his tone he was serious.

  I sighed, flagging down the bartender. “I need another drink before I talk about it. I’m not buzzed enough yet.” Okay, that was a lie. I was a bit buzzed, but not so much that I was comfortable with talking about his brother and how we met.

  “I know he said it was during an international flight to Beijing,” he went on, after I requested another.

  “Yeah, but I’d been on two other flights with him before that. He just never paid attention to me before the international one.”

  “How could anyone not notice you?” He narrowed his eyes, like he was truly perplexed.

  I shrugged. “He’s serious about his job. Plus, all of the flight attendants would hit on him. He never actually looks at any of them because he’s so used to it.” The bartender slid my drink across the counter and I sipped at it right away. Vin remained silent, waiting for the details. “I worked the cockpit with a veteran flight attendant on that international flight.”