by Erin Leigh
I hang up and feel the ability to breathe again as my ribs loosen. My whole body loosens. Sami is coming. She makes everything better.
I turn off my phone and go back to my cubicle.
“Hey!”
I lift my head as I sit. Randy gives me a smile and offers me a cardboard picture of one of my book covers. It's the one with Brady as the model. I have ten of them now. They’re all him but in different poses. Only two are hockey, the rest are varying. Some are dark thrillers and others are typical romance. “So this was a huge hit. They were wondering if maybe you can do some post apocalypse and horror? They can’t be cheesy. They need darkness but magic and something hidden that makes the reader need to look inside.”
“Sure.” I shrug and grab my headphones. “I can try.”
“I’ve sent the email already. Nice work again, kid.” He offers a thumbs up and leaves the cardboard for me at my desk as he walks off. At least this aspect of my life is clicking. I apparently have an eye for book covers. Who knew this was even a thing? I reach over and run my fingers across the photo of Brady. I don't even care if Will and I ever talk again, but I wish I could go back with Brady to this day where I took the photos. He was so sweet that morning. No one has ever been that sweet to me before.
And I had to go and take advantage.
One guy is nice to me and I act like a stage-four clinger and ruin the friendship?
Liz gives me a grin. “Nice work.”
“Thank you.” I lift the other cardboard from the week before and place it over the Brady one, the one with the girl floating in the water with the lilies all around her. The title is Ophelia so the water and flowers make sense.
“What are you doing after work? Me and some of the others were thinking about getting a drink. It’s Friday!”
“I heard you guys talking at lunch. My friend’s coming from Manhattan. Can I rain check for next time? I’m super bummed I’m going to miss it.”
“Of course. If you want to bring her that's cool too. Six at Vaughan’s.”
“Okay, I’ll see if she wants to.”
Liz offers an excited smile. “I hope you guys come.”
“It’s a pub. She’ll say yes. She’s sort of rocking a drunken stage right now.” I laugh and pull on my headphones as I open the email. The cover is for a post-apocalyptic book called And the Sky Fell. It’s by some YA author named AE Watson. It’s sounds dark and creepy and I want to read it. I have a fabulous idea for the cover.
Liz standing up in my peripheral is the only reason I realize the day’s over.
I spent it creatively entranced and didn’t think about the fact I sent the stupid message to the stupid girls about an even stupider boy. I haven’t even looked at my phone. I refuse to now. I pull off my headphones and save the work I’ve done on the image.
“How’s it going?”
“Awesome. I’ll text you as soon as I get home and see her.”
“Sweet.” She offers a wave and heads for the door. I follow. We all leave as a herd.
Harry gives me a nudge. “You coming tonight?”
“I think so. I have to see if my friend is up for it.”
He laughs. “It’s not exactly the Upper East Side. I can’t imagine any of your friends will want to come to Vaughan’s.”
“You’d be surprised.” I laugh too. It’s forced because the butterflies have actually eaten my stomach, and I have nothing left but acid to eat at the rest of me.
Crossing the park I ignore the constant vibration coming from my phone. I just need to make it to the apartment and fling the phone at her and let her choose the course of action we take from here. She has to make this one for me. I’ve truly blown it thus far.
I hope she just burns the phone and we get drunk. Being hungover I can’t help but shudder at the thought of booze, but some hair of the dog might actually help. I’ll just stay away from the red wine.
As I get close to the apartment I see her sitting on the stairs. Her limo is sitting out front, looking as inconspicuous as limos can.
She waves and sprints across Asylum Street, hardly even looking for cars coming. She’s Sami Ford; cars stop for her. I think the sun and moon would too.
She runs fast for a second and then slows down, completely out of shape. She’s naturally lanky, not fit. She’s walking and wheezing when she gets to me, but it doesn't stop her from tackling me, almost taking us both to the ground.
“Don't ever yell at me again.” She sounds like she might cry. “And don't tell me to go away.”
I can’t. I’m so nervous I can’t cry.
I slip the phone into her hand as it vibrates like mad.
She looks at it over my shoulder, answering it for me. “Hey, dick face!”
It must be William.
She steps back, shaking her head. “Absolutely not. She will not be speaking to you. No. No. No. Bye.” She hangs up and gives me a look. “Thirteen missed calls; all the girls have responded, completely freaking out. Half are denying fucking him. Oh shit.” She starts laughing as she rifles through the messages. “Karen said she’s sorry. She’s one of the missed calls.” She pushes her long sandy blonde hair back behind her arms and shoulders. “Let’s have a listen, shall we?” She presses the voice mail button and puts it on speaker.
“Nat, I’m so sorry. I feel sick. I don't even know what to say. I know you can’t forgive me, and I don't blame you. But I want you to know I am on your side, whatever you need. I hope I can earn back your forgiv—”
We both stare at it, both a bit shocked.
“She was crying.” Sami winces but laughs. “What an epic shitstorm. I’m so excited you pulled this stunt. Of all the stunts, this is epic.”
My eyes start to water. “My parents are going to kill me.”
“Just your mom. Your dad would be proud.” She sighs. “I’m proud. And my parents will adopt you in a heartbeat. They like you way better than they like me.”
We both laugh as she hugs me again.
“What did he say?” I don't know why I care. I guess because three years is a long time.
“Nothing. He said he needed to talk to you and he begged a little bit. It was pathetic and he’s a fucker. Want to get pissed?” She laughs and wipes her eyes.
“My coworkers are going to the pub over there.” I point. “We could go there.”
She nods and sniffles. “Let’s freshen up and do that.”
Freshen up for her involves changing outfits several times, forcing me to wear shoes I know I won’t be in by the end of the evening, and a completely different makeup style.
Friday-night makeup is a thing for her. She has a theme. It’s bronzed and chic and goes with her tawny hair perfectly.
Her attitude and disposition becomes light and airy, but her eyes dart to me in the mirror as we get ready.
“Stop.” I can’t take much more worrying.
“I just hate that all this landed on you when you moved and made such a drastic change in your life. I wish I could have known earlier or later and not now. I tried to shelter you a bit and that's the only reason I didn't tell you right away. And I shouldn’t have told you on the phone. I was drunk and the nachos were delicious.”
I offer up a grin. “I wish you’d known in the beginning. I could have saved myself three years of wondering what else I should do to make him happy.” I nod at the phone. “And I might have avoided making a huge ass out of myself.”
“Oh, not a chance. We’re never going to regret that. I’m so glad you did call those bitches on their shit. It’s worse to me that they pretended to be your friends but slept with your boyfriend than it is that Will slept with other people. I wouldn't have traded this happening for anything. It’s the outcome this fiasco deserves. He deserves to be outed for the disgusting pig he is.” She scoffs as she does her eyebrows. “At least people like Brady, Matt, and me don't try to hide the fact we’re slutty. I wear that badge proudly.” She pulls back and looks at the job she’s done.
“Ye
ah, I think I need to be a bit more slutty. Like my dad said, sew my oats and shit.”
Her eyes widen in the mirror. “You do live with a guy who would be quite good at that.”
“You can’t sleep with someone you live with, moron. That's too close. But he has hot friends. There’s one named Mike. He’s pretty hot. He has huge hands.” I say it, but I’m not sure I mean it. I like Brady, enormously. I don't know that I would ever want to make it awkward between us by sleeping with a friend.
“Well, we are going to a pub. Surely there has to be some talent in Hartford.” She laughs and grabs my hands. “Let’s go.”
I leave the phone behind on the counter. I don't need it to remind me that I’m sad and evil and bitter and cruel.
I also don't need William to call anymore.
Chapter Twenty
Grandma Coldwell in her nightie for the win!
Brady
My legs ache as we enter the pub. Vaughan’s has become something of a second home to us.
One of the servers Mitch screwed strolls over, giving him a smirk. “The whole team?”
“No, just twelve of us.” He grabs her ass cheek, not even being slightly subtle. He’s never subtle. Like Nat said, he’s a little too clingy and crazy. He doesn't understand not banging servers at the place you eat. Or screwing them more than once in two weeks. He needs some player rules.
But not my brother, not my kid, not my problem.
We sit, not in our usual spot. I glance over to the large party, instantly wincing when I see Natalie and Sami. They’re surrounded by hipster-looking people and maybe nerds. It must be Natalie’s coworkers. They scream techy, especially the douchey-looking dude with the winter hat in the pub. It’s not even fall weather outside yet. It’s over seventy-five degrees out. One of the other guys doesn't stop staring at Sami as she laughs and tells some story. They all laugh with her. She looks like a celebrity with them.
“Holy shit, is that Sami Ford?” Mike leans over, giving her a look. “And Nat.” He slaps me on the back. “I’m gonna go say hi.” He leaves me standing there, hating every second of the way her face lights up.
Natalie jumps out of her chair and hugs him. She’s too happy and too animated. It’s very different from how she’s been all week. She looks alive again. She’s wearing colors and not just shades.
I’ve spent the entire two weeks since we did the photo shoot avoiding her. I’m nice, I’m polite, but I keep my distance.
Except I watch her.
The way she avoids her phone.
The way she hasn't really been eating much.
She’s been gaming a ton. I never imagined I would have to fight a chick for my Xbox.
But not tonight.
No, she’s alive and laughing.
I bet she’s drunk or buzzed.
Fuck.
I wonder if she’s wearing that underwear or if she’ll strip for me again?
Dude, think about your grandma.
Grandma Coldwell has a wrinkly face and wears those weird nightgowns. They’re creepy and remind me of a horror movie. Horror movies. Yeah. Clowns and kids singing and dark corners. I hate horror movies.
Mike hugs her too tight and too long. He rests his head on hers and my insides clench.
Nat introduces him to Sami who hugs him too.
Natalie’s eyes follow the path he’s walked to get to her and finds me standing there, wishing it were me hugging her. She pushes past him, walking to me.
Fuck.
“Hey!” She’s not drunk, she’s buzzed and super happy. She looks different though. Too much makeup and too tight of a dress. Sami must have dressed her. Her blonde hair has wide curls I want to tangle my hands in.
“Hey!” I wave but she hugs. The smell of her vanilla shampoo and the feel of her body pressed against mine is the death of me. My fingers long to creep down the back of her just to check what’s under that dress that's so tight that when my hands land on her back I can feel her muscles tense and then relax as she sighs. Her chest squishes against my abs. I flex to feel them better.
Grandma Coldwell. Grandma Coldwell. Grandma Coldwell.
She pulls back, smiling wide. She looks like an angel. “How was the first away game? I know you won and scored some goals.” She looks down like she’s embarrassed.
“How do you know that?”
“I was listening at work while I was doing my new cover. It’s a picture of you.” She looks up at me through those lashes.
Fucking fuck.
“You were listening to my game?” I swallow hard.
“Of course.” She takes a step back, maybe getting the vibe I’m throwing off. The one I don't want to throw off, but I have no choice. I want to grab her face and kiss her so hard I can’t breathe. Acting distant and dickish is better. “Yeah, I always do if I’m at my desk since I started doing the hockey covers. It makes it easy to connect to the character. I can zone out and work and listen to the game. It’s hard to know what’s happening since I don't know hockey, but I think I get the gist of it.” She scowls at me but then smiles and looks at the rest of the table. “Congrats on the win.”
Heads turn, eyes linger and roam and spend a fucking vacation on that body in that stupid dress. Her tight beige dress and bright-red heels make me burn everywhere.
Are those the same red heels?
I think they are.
I can see every inch of her—inches I’ve seen with almost nothing on. Inches I want so badly to touch.
Grandma Coldwell.
Nat leans in, shaking hands and smiling, introducing herself as my roommate.
Every eye lands on mine as I shake my head subtly. They know. My face isn’t exactly hiding the pain and anger I have going on.
I am being busted badly for the major feelings I am having. The feelings I don't know what to do with. They’re a first for me.
If it wasn't for my grandma’s nightgown I’d be getting busted with a total tent in my pants instead of the slight sidearm I’m rocking.
“Why don't you guys join our table?” one of the boys shouts.
She gives me a look as the guys smile wide, clearly all them keen on getting her to come and sit with us. “I’ll see if Sami wants to when my coworkers leave. They didn't plan on staying late.” She waves at us all, giving me one more look before leaving and going back to where Mike has Sami fully engaged.
When he sees Nat again his face lights up even more.
I might have to kill him.
Or someone.
Dean, our lead goalie, gives me a look. “Dude, who the hell is that?”
“My roommate.”
“What kind of roommate is that? Is there a catalogue or a website I need to know about?” Dean laughs.
“Don't.” I look at the server Mitch has been chatting up. “Can I get a round of shots, Jack Daniels? Please. And a pint of Guinness.”
“Is she that Natalie something that’s dating that dipshit, Fairfield?” Anderson asks, leaning back. “I can’t believe he lets her live with you.”
“Yeah.” Mitch laughs, pointing at Dean. “Her name is Natalie Banks and we don't mock her or treat her like a PF, ever. She’s best friends with Sami Ford, obviously, but she’s way cooler than just that.” Mitch tilts his head and points, “While she’s crazy hot and super fun, she’s also a ninja. She can play NHL 16 better than any of us. She laughs at dirty shit, eats pizza and not just one slice, drinks beer, and yeah—she’s perfect.” He sums her up impeccably as he offers me a sympathetic look, not something I expect from him. “If I was you I’d just marry her and end it there. Get it over with. There’s no denying she’s the best chick in the world. She even works and has a degree and takes care of herself. There’s just no fault.”
“That’s ‘cause you’re weak.” I lift my middle finger. “She’s a problem for my dick, nothing else.” I turn and look at her laughing and inwardly cry a little like the little bitch she’s making me. “I like to think of it as a test of strength.” I give the
boys a grin. “And I’m passing with flying colors.”
Everyone bursts into laughter.
I can say whatever I want, but I know it’s going to be a long night.
And it is. I drink and try to find a diversion, but her eyes find mine as often as mine find hers. Her friends all look at her the way I think everyone should. They seem enamored by her.
One by one her table gets smaller, but Sami is still bringing the drinks to them. A few guys leave ours, and Mike nods at the girls. “Let's move over there. They’re down to five and we only have seven.” The guys all get up, grabbing their drinks and moseying to the table of mostly girls. Two Asian chicks, a brunette, Sami, Nat, and the pale nerdy guy who keeps staring at Sami.
Reluctantly and painfully, I get up, carrying my beer to where they’re all sitting. Nat smiles when she sees me. There’s a glassy look in her eyes, like she might be getting a bit drunk. “Hey, stranger.”
“Hey yourself.” I smile back, also a bit drunk.
Dean sits near her, offering her a charming grin. “So, you liking Hartford?”
“It’s all right.” She nods and gives me a grin. She’s the master of seeing when guys try too hard. She points at the brunette and then each person as she says their name, “This is Liz. Maggie. Lin. Sami. And this is Phil.”
It takes me half a second to realize the lone guy isn’t actually into Sami. He wants to be friends with her. He’s actually into me. It’s not the first time a guy gave me the eye.
I’m sure I’m giving the same look to Nat that he’s giving me. “Can you introduce all the guys, little Miss ‘I listen to the games?’” I mock her.
She narrows her gaze. “Challenge accepted.” She points at Dean. “This is Dean, the goalie. Mike, Mitch, Brady.” She smiles wider when she says my name. “Sven.” She points at Anderson, getting it right. She bites her lip, wrestling with it before she guesses the next two, “Marcus Nelson and Fraser Helm? I can’t tell. You guys look the same.”
Fraser laughs. “I’m Fraser. He’s Marcus.” But she has a point, they do look alike. With a helmet on they are almost the same guy. Brown hair, tall, beefy white dudes with scruffy dark beards.
