Desire (South Bay Soundtracks Book 1)

by Amelia Stone

  I turned to face her, my eyes widening in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

  She sniffed and crossed her arms. “You didn’t make any effort at all tonight.”

  “Now, I don’t know if that’s fair-“ Graham began, but I cut him off.

  “I made every effort!” Needing something to do with my hands, I pushed my plate away, sloshing broth onto the table. “I put on the outfit you wanted, I went out despite not wanting to, and frankly, I think I showed admirable restraint in not punching that fatuous motherfucker in his sweaty bald head.”

  Taylor rolled her eyes. “You always use big words when you’re drunk.”

  “I’m feeling a hell of a lot more sober now.” I shifted in my seat, digging in for a fight. My temper had been at the boiling point all night, and I was seconds from blowing my top. “Taylor, you cannot seriously be disappointed that I didn’t make a love connection with that idiot.”

  She threw her hands up. “Of course not, Lark! This was just supposed to be about getting your feet wet.” She leaned forward. “But I did expect you to at least try to be friendly. I went through a lot of effort to arrange this date tonight, you know.”

  “And that,” I spat, gesturing in the direction Harry had just exited, “is the best you could come up with?” I leaned forward, too. “You honestly thought that guy was right for me?”

  “And just what was wrong with him?” she challenged.

  I rubbed my temples, trying to soothe the massive headache that was forming. “For starters, he’s older than my dad. His personal hygiene leaves a lot to be desired.” I ticked off my fingers, leaving the middle one up in a not-so-subtle gesture. “Oh, and I’m about eighty-three percent sure he’s fucking his own mother.” I picked apart the last roll, scattering the crumbs all over the table. “He’s hardly my type.”

  “What is your type?” Graham asked, sounding almost aggressively casual.

  “Someone who’s actually taller than me,” I shot back, and he snorted out a laugh.

  Taylor scoffed. “You can be so judgmental sometimes, Larkin. He’s a perfectly nice guy.”

  I shook my head stubbornly. “I saw no evidence of that tonight. He was rude and argumentative. He did nothing but pick on me and tell me how much his mother would dislike me.” I sucked in a breath. “And he insulted Daniel. I can put up with a lot, Taylor. But that’s a line no one crosses.”

  Remorse flashed in her eyes, and she looked at the table, twisting her hands. But the repentance didn’t last too long, as she spoke again a moment later.

  “Well, it’s not exactly easy to find someone who’d be willing to go out with you,” she sniffed.

  I reeled like she’d slapped me. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  I swiped at the hot tears sliding down my cheeks, staring at her. I was about ten steps beyond angry now. I’d never known Taylor to be cruel to anyone, let alone me. She was my best friend. We’d been closer than sisters for twenty years.

  What the hell had happened here tonight?

  She put her hand over mine like she was trying to calm me, but I yanked it away. There was no calming me right now. I’d been building a head of steam all day.

  All year, really. No, more than that. For sixteen months, twenty-three days, eight hours, and – I checked my watch – fifty-one minutes, I’d been so angry, I could hardly see straight. At my next-door neighbor, for yelling at me about my lawn every time I poked my head outside. At Taylor, for being so goddamn perfect. At the town of South Bay, for never coming out and replacing the main line to the sewer, thus ensuring that my toilets backed up like it was going out of style.

  At Daniel, for dying. At the world, for continuing to turn without him. At God, for obvious reasons.

  At myself. Especially at myself.

  But right now, I was mad as hell at the person who had always had my back, no matter what. Until tonight.

  She swallowed roughly, blinking rapidly like she was trying to stave off tears of her own. “You’re sad all the time, Larkin,” she accused, like I was doing it just to fuck with her. “You don’t eat. You don’t sleep. You don’t go anywhere. You just mope around the house all day, keeping company with Daniel’s ghost.”

  I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady myself before I answered. When I opened them, Taylor’s jaw was locked, her lips pursed in a tight line.

  “I’m sorry I’m not grieving on your timetable, Taylor.” I fumbled with my purse, preparing to leave. Suddenly, I was sick of this argument. We’d been having it for too long, and I had no energy left to keep it going.

  “I never said you had to grieve on my schedule,” Taylor said.

  “That’s all you’ve been saying! For over a year.” My hands finally closed on the strap of my purse, and I slid to the end of the booth. “I am so sick of you telling me how to mourn the loss of my husband. How could you possibly have any idea what I’m going through?”

  “I get it, okay? Daniel was your first love.” She wiped away tears of her own. “He was my friend, too. I miss him so much. But it’s time to get over it. It’s time to find your next love.”

  I stood, reaching blindly for my jacket. “I’m not looking for my next love, Taylor. Daniel can’t be replaced.”

  She let out an angry-sounding breath. “I’m not saying you have to replace him. But God, would it kill you to make an effort? It’s like you don’t even want to be happy.”

  I didn’t even bother to reply to that. How could I, when I didn’t have a convincing counter argument?

  Instead, I pulled several twenties from my purse, slapping them down on the table. “That should cover the bill,” I muttered. “I’m walking home.”

  “It’s dark, Larkin. You can’t walk home now!”

  I snorted. “This is South Bay. Nothing will happen to me.”

  Nothing that I seriously worried about, anyway. Logically, I knew a million horrible things could happen to me. I could get mugged by a rogue tourist who didn’t realize summer had been over for two months. I could trip and fall and crack my head open. I could be murdered by my next-door neighbor because, as he never hesitated to tell me, my haunted-house landscaping drove down his property values. I could get swarmed by those killer African bees and die of anaphylactic shock.

  I could get run over by a car, like Daniel.

  The world was a horrible place, and I knew it better than anyone. But I wasn’t scared of it. I wasn’t scared of anything. It was hard to be afraid when you had nothing left to lose.

  “Let me give you a ride,” Graham offered.

  I looked up, and his green eyes locked with mine. They were warm and urgent in a way that almost seemed more than friendly. But I shook my head, feeling none of the interest from earlier that night. There was nothing but apathy now, for him, for everyone. For everything. I was just done.

  I had a vague notion that Taylor was shouting my name as I turned and headed for the door. She was apologizing, maybe, but I couldn’t hear it over the roaring in my ears. Without so much as a glance back, I shrugged on my jacket and walked out into the night.

  “Now it makes me sad,

  It makes me mad at truth

  For loving what was you.”

  - Billy Idol, “Eyes Without a Face”

  Larkin stormed out of the restaurant, leaving an uncomfortable silence in her wake. The buzz of the crowd around me became nothing more than white noise as I turned to stare at Taylor, trying to figure out how this could be the same girl I’d met just a few months ago. The girl I could have sworn had sunshine and rainbows coming out of her ass.

  The girl I’d foolishly been thinking about for the long term.

  “That was way harsh, Tai,” I said after a long moment, trying to keep the anger I was feeling from seeping into my tone.

  “My name is Taylor,” she snipped. “Taylor, Tay.” She crossed her arms over her chest, turning her face away from me. “Not Tyler.”

  “And apparently you’re the only woman under forty who
hasn’t seen Clueless,” I muttered, dropping enough cash on the table to cover the bill and a generous tip. Then I swept Larkin’s money off the table and stuck it in my pocket. I wasn’t sure when or how, but I’d get it back to her. Number one, because it really did not feel right to make her pay for that train wreck of a meal.

  And number two, because it would give me an excuse to see her again.

  “What did you say?” Taylor snapped, swiveling her head around and flashing me a scowl.

  “Never mind.” I sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

  Because I was still a gentleman, I helped her on with her coat, opened the door for her, and gave her a hand into my Jeep. But I didn’t say a single word to her for the blessedly short ride to her house. I could barely even look at her.

  How had this night gone so completely sideways in such a short time? Not even a couple of hours ago, I’d been standing on Taylor’s front porch, excited for the night ahead. Now, I felt tired, guilty, and mad as hell. At her, at that asshat Harry, and most of all at myself.

  If I’d just put a stop to this earlier, when I’d answered the door to find that sweaty little gnome on the other side, then none of this would have happened. My first instincts had been correct: that walking pit stain had no business being anywhere near Larkin. Or any other human being, for that matter.

  I’d fucked up. I should have shooed him out the door like the rodent he was. I should have protected Larkin from the nightmare of his very existence. But instead, I’d felt so guilty for the sudden, intense connection I’d felt with her that I’d swerved too far in the opposite direction, adopting a mind-your-own-business policy that benefitted no one.

  And it didn’t matter that she’d held her own, sparring with Momma’s Boy like a pro. She shouldn’t have had to.

  I would make it up to her. I didn’t yet know how, but I would make it right.

  When I pulled up in front of the tiny house on the quiet, beachfront street that Larkin and Taylor called home, I turned the car off quickly. Then I shifted to face Taylor, intending to break it off as nicely as I could.

  “I don’t think we should see each other again,” she said, before I could even open my mouth.

  I stared at her for a beat, surprised that she’d beaten me to the punch. “Oh.”

  She gave me a winning smile, like she was trying to make me feel better. But now it seemed fake, and I wondered why I hadn’t seen it before. Or maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see, letting my anger with myself color my perception of her. Maybe this really was an anomaly for her, acting like an insensitive jerk.

  “I’m sorry,” she continued when I didn’t answer. “I know this must be hurtful, but I really think it’s for the best.”

  I cleared my throat. “I agree.”

  That seemed to surprise her. “Excuse me?”

  I nodded. “You’re absolutely right. We’re no good for each other.”

  Her mouth opened and closed several times, like she was trying to come up with the right words. While she stewed on it, I took the opportunity to exit the car, round the hood, and open her door. Mutely, she took my hand, letting me help her down. When we were once again standing next to each other, she gave me a hard, searching look. What she saw must have pissed her off, because she sashayed across the overgrown lawn, her long legs eating up the worn flagstone path and carrying her onto the porch before I could catch up with her ever-changing moods.

  She stopped in front of her door, whirling to face me. Her blue eyes were narrowed in anger as she finally spoke.

  “You’re breaking up with me?”

  What the hell? Was she actually mad at me? I took in her hard eyes and angry frown. Christ, she really was. She was mad at me. For agreeing to break up with her. An idea she brought up first.

  I could have laughed at the absurdity of this conversation – this whole fucking night – if I wasn’t so exhausted.

  “We’re breaking up with each other, Taylor,” I pointed out. “It’s mutual.”

  “But you want to break up with me,” she repeated. “You think it’s a good idea to not date me again. You think I’m… I’m undateable, or something.”

  I ran my hands through my hair. I so did not want to have this conversation right now. Or ever, really. But she was standing there, arms crossed, glaring at me like she was expecting an answer. After a moment, I blew out a long, frustrated breath.

  “Look, Taylor, it’s not you,” I said, sounding about as tired as I felt. “You’re great, but I just don’t think we’re meant to be.”

  “You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” she accused. “You don’t think I’m great. You’re trying to placate me.”

  I shook my head. “No, I mean it.”

  The words were out of my mouth before I even realized I was thinking them, but they felt right. I thought again about everything that had happened tonight, about everything she’d said and done since I’d met her. She was a sweet, thoughtful person. And she might have gone about it in the wrong way, but I believed she really cared about Larkin, and just wanted her to be happy again.

  She gave me a long look. “Really?”

  I nodded. “Really.”

  She looked relieved, and I wondered briefly what that was all about. Had she really been worried about being ‘undateable,’ as she called it? She was practically a walking wet dream. Hot, smart, and genuinely nice? She’d have no problems.

  “I do have to ask, though,” I added, because it had been bugging me all night. “Why that guy?”

  She gave me a guilty-looking frown. “It was an accident!”

  I raised an eyebrow. “An accident?” I repeated, not understanding how a date that had been on the books since Tuesday could be an accident.

  “I was trying to ease her back into the dating scene. We used to go on double dates all the time,” she explained. “Larkin and Daniel, and me and… um, okay, a lot of different guys.” She waved an arm dismissively. “Whatever. I go on a lot of dates.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly. “I’m still not understanding how this was an accident, then. Especially if it’s something you’re used to doing.”

  “Well, I’ve never had to find a guy for her.” She sighed. “They were high school sweethearts.”

  “Football games, study dates, prom king and queen, yadda, yadda, yadda” I supplied, because I could just picture it. Larkin and the guy with the caramel skin and dark eyes I’d seen in that photo were a good-looking couple, I’d give them that.

  Never mind that I was irrationally jealous of a dead man.

  “No, I was prom queen.” Taylor snorted. “Larkin was nominated, too, because she was friends with me. But she stole the ballot box and crossed her name off all of them.”

  I chuckled. That sounded more like the Larkin I’d just met. “Good times.”

  “Yeah.” Taylor let out a sigh that told me she carried a lot more weight on her shoulders than I might have expected, and I wondered how much she struggled under that everything-is-awesome persona.

  “I was trying to find a really great guy. Someone who would catch her interest. Someone who would… I don’t know, wake her up, you know?” She frowned. “But then I got distracted by…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just, this morning came around and I realized I hadn’t found anybody, and I sort of panicked.”

  “And Harry was the best you could find?” I asked, not really believing it. We worked for an engineering firm; even in this day and age, when women were making huge strides in STEM fields, our office was a total sausage fest. There had to be a dozen guys in my department alone who would jump at the chance to go out with Taylor and her friend.

  And every last one of them was a hell of a lot better than a sentient mustache, let me tell you.

  “I just sort of… ran into him. Like, literally ran into him, running for the elevator.” She looked sheepish. “He seemed really put out. He kept rubbing his shoulder like I’d hurt him, a
nd I just felt so bad. So I asked what I could do to make it up to him, and he insisted I go out with him.” She looked up at me. “Obviously, I already had plans with you, so I just kind of… redirected him.”

  I frowned. “You could have said no, Taylor. You don’t owe anybody a date, especially someone like that. And especially not for something as trivial as bumping into him on the elevator.”

  “I know that, okay?” She shrugged. “I don’t like to let people down.”

  I sighed, not bothering to point out that she’d really let her best friend down tonight. She felt bad enough as it was.

  “Besides, it seemed like a good idea at the time! He seemed harmless. And the more I thought about it, the more sense it made to ease her into the dating scene. I didn’t want to intimidate her with someone too good, you know?”

  I shook my head, because I really did not know what she meant. If anyone deserved someone ‘too good,’ it was Larkin. But Taylor was clearly upset, so I decided not to press the point.

  “Obviously it backfired.” She let out a sad whimper. “He was a nightmare, okay? I can admit that now.” She sniffed. “And the worst part is that it pushed her further into her shell. She hates me now.” She looked up at me. “You hate me now. Everyone hates me. I’ll end up alone and miserable.”

  “You will not end up alone.” I shook my head again. “And I don’t hate you. You’re a sweet girl, Taylor,” I added, giving her a long look. Oddly enough, considering how actively I’d pursued her for the last few months, I didn’t feel any pangs admitting that. She was definitely the whole package – but for someone else.

  My words seemed to take the wind out of her sails. Some emotion flitted over her face, something that looked almost like guilt, as she sank down on the porch swing. “I’m not a sweet girl,” she whispered, like she was confiding a secret.

  I sat next to her. “I’m sure you’re just having a bad night.” I patted her knee awkwardly. “That’s all this was.”

  She shook her head. “No. I-” She cut herself off, chewing her lip. Then, with a deep breath, she turned to face me. “I was using you.”