by Cotton, L A
A girl laughed at something he said. She was hidden behind a cluster of trees marking the edge of the Breakers’ house and the beach, but now I was closer I could see her. She reached out and touched Devon’s arm, and I wanted to break her slender fingers. But even worse than seeing her touch him, was seeing him not stop her.
They moved closer. Devon wrapped an arm around her waist as she stumbled into him. Were they drunk? It was hard to tell from here, but I couldn’t make myself move any nearer.
I didn’t want to be any closer.
I didn’t want to see this. Yet, I couldn’t make myself look away.
The party raged on behind me; kids cheering and laughing and singing. It was the end of the semester and everyone was in the party spirit. But I felt nothing but agony as the girl pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed him. I waited for Devon to push her away, to stop her lips from touching his, but he didn’t. She moved closer, pressing the lines of her body against his, wrapping her arms around his neck as if he was hers.
Devon.
My Devon.
Except, he wasn’t my Devon anymore.
Maybe he never was.
“WHOA, THERE,” A DEEP voice said as I downed another shot. Things were a little blurry, but the pain in my chest was almost gone.
Almost.
Another three or four and I’d be numb.
“Trey?” I blinked, trying to focus. “Trey Berrick?”
“Macey Prince.” He smirked. “Does your brother know you’re here getting butt drunk?”
I glared at him, grabbing another shot off the tray and knocking it back. “No,” I said in my best sober voice. “But I’m sure you’ll tell him.”
Rick and Trey went way back. They were good friends before they both went off to college. Although I never really understood what my brother liked about Trey. He was a dog. A total player. And he never took anything seriously.
“You know he’ll kill me if I don’t at least offer you a ride home.”
“Seriously? I wouldn’t get in a car with you if someone paid me,” I scoffed, but my attitude was ruined when I hiccupped.
“Ouch. I see your claws are as sharp as ever.”
“Meow,” I growled, going for another shot.
“Oh no you don’t.” Trey intercepted my hand, pushing the tray out of reach. “I just watched you down like four of those things.”
Six. But who was counting?
“I get it,” he said. “You’re on a mission to end up covered in your own puke with a hangover from hell. And while I want to be the grown up here and make you go home, I also value my balls. So, I’ll make you a deal.”
“A deal?”
“Yeah. You promise to switch to beer and alternate with water, and I promise not to let you make too much of a fool of yourself.”
“I don’t need you to look out for me, Trey.”
“No, you don’t, but consider it a favor.”
“A favor?”
“To me. We both know if Rick finds out I was here laying witness to your stellar drinking habits, he’d tear me a new one. This way everyone wins.” My frown must have deepened because he added, “You get to forget whatever it is your drinking to forget, and I get to keep my balls.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” Trey grabbed two beers and a bottled water from a cooler and slung his arm over my shoulder. “Now let’s find somewhere quiet to chat, and you can tell me all about Lions.”
Just when I thought the night couldn’t get any worse, it did.
“WHAT THE—” I BLINKED, trying to figure out why my eyes wouldn’t work. Everything hurt. My head. My muscles. My stomach. Especially my stomach. I rolled over onto my side and bile rushed up my throat. “Oh, God.” I lay perfectly still, waiting for the waves of nausea to pass. Thankfully, after a few minutes, they did.
I scanned the unfamiliar room trying to figure out where the hell I was. Slowly, drunken memory by drunken memory began filtering into my hazy mind.
Devon.
Devon with a girl.
Devon kissing a girl.
Shots.
Lots of shots.
Trey.
Beers with Trey.
Crying on Trey’s shoulder?
Oh, God.
I felt sick again.
“I can hear your thoughts from here,” a deep voice washed over me.
No.
No.
Oh, fuck no!
“What time is it?” Trey’s baritone voice sucked the air clean from the room. I was in bed with the hangover from hell... with one of my brother’s oldest friends.
I dipped a hand underneath the covers, relieved when I felt material covering my body. It was quickly dashed when I realized it wasn’t my dress, nor was I wearing pants.
I was in bed half naked with Trey Berrick.
“Did we...?” I swallowed down more bile. “Trey, did we...?”
A loud knock at the door splintered my head. “Macey?”
Shit.
Shit.
“Just a minute,” I called out, trying my best to sound normal.
“We’re coming in.”
We?
I really hoped he meant himself and Laurie. I’m not sure I could have handled seeing Rick yet.
“Shit, you need to go,” I hissed at Trey, who barely had his eyes open.
“Go?” His voice was thick with sleep. “Where the fuck do you want me to go, and why are you freaking—”
The door swung open, and Kyle and... Kiera walked in. What the hell was she doing here?
“Sorry for the early morning call. A little birdie told me you might need a—” Kyle’s mouth dropped open as his eyes landed on me and then flicked to Trey, who was still passed out beside me. “Is that Berrick under all those sheets?”
“I’m dying, Stone. Fuck off and let me sleep.”
Kyle shot me a ‘what the hell?’ look and glanced over at his sister who was staring at the bed. But she wasn’t looking at me... her cold gaze was set firmly on the huge lump next to me.
“Kiera, I’ll meet you downstairs.” Kyle’s voice snapped her out of her strange trance, and she nodded, mumbling, “Y- yeah,” but not before sending me a funny look.
Trey grumbled something under his breath that sounded like, “Fuck,” and I narrowed my eyes at Kyle wondering what the hell was going on.
When Kiera was gone, I asked, “Why do I feel like I’m missing something?”
Finally dragging himself out of bed, Trey pulled on his jeans. “It’s not what you think, man,” he said to Kyle.
“Why would I think anything?” Kyle said around an easy smile, but I noticed a tightness around his eyes. He was pissed, and something was definitely happening between them. But I had no idea what it was.
“Is someone going to tell me what’s going—”
“We should go,” was all Kyle said, his eyes still burning into Trey, who stood like a statue the other side of the bed.
“Give me a second?” I asked him, feeling like the teenager caught at a party by her parents.
“I’ll be downstairs.”
“What was all that about?” I asked Trey, the second Kyle was gone.
“It doesn’t matter.” He ran a hand over his buzz cut.
And then it hit me. The way Kiera had stared at the bed. The way Kyle had stared at Trey.
“You and... Kiera?”
“There isn’t a me and Kiera. You of all people should know that.”
Because Kiera was Kyle’s sister, his baby sister. She was barely sixteen, and Trey was a nineteen-year-old guy in college. No way in hell Kyle would ever let him near his sister. Not to mention the fact he was a player with a capital P.
“Oh,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“Did we... last night?”
“Holding back a girl’s hair while she pukes her guts up, doesn’t really get me in the mood.” He gave me a wry smile.
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”
“Nah, it’s al
l good. I said I’d keep an eye out for you and I meant it. It was easier to crash here than try to get you home.”
“You couldn’t have taken the floor?” I rose a brow.
“I said I’d look after you, I didn’t say I’m a saint. But don’t worry, I didn’t peek.”
“Thanks, I guess, for everything.” I went to go, but his voice stopped me.
“Macey?”
“Yeah?” I glanced back.
“Your boy Lions didn’t look so happy when he saw us.”
“H- he saw us?” The world spun.
“Yeah. I was trying to get you upstairs, and he was walking by.”
Of course he was.
“He helped me carry you up here.”
My chest contracted, squeezing my lungs, my heart. “Did he... was there anyone with him?”
“Nah, he was on his own heading home.”
He was?
“Macey?”
“Yeah, Trey?”
“I don’t know all that happened between you two, but he looked as sad as you.”
My shoulders sagged, but I didn’t know what to feel. So, I said goodbye to Trey, and went in search of Kyle and Kiera, and Tylenol.
Chapter 28
DEVON
“Merry Christmas, Son.” Dad greeted me with a glass of orange juice and a bagel, but I did a double take when I realized what he was wearing.
“Is that a Christmas sweater?” My brows furrowed at the sight of him; he looked ridiculous.
“Like it?” He grinned, tugging it out so I could get a better look. “I picked it up from the store when I was getting the ham.”
“Ham?”
“Yeah, for dinner.”
My throat went dry. Ham was Mom’s favorite. Every year, she’d spend hours glazing the thing, wanting it to be perfect.
Dad’s out-of-character good mood melted away. “I know what you’re thinking, but this isn’t that,” he said. “I want today to be nice. Me and you, dinner, a few beers later. Maybe even a board game or two? Just like old times.”
“I... I don’t know what to say.” I’d prepared myself for another day of misery. Between me moping over Macey, and Dad moping over Mom, the mood in the house hadn’t exactly been full of festive spirit.
“There’s nothing to say.” He smiled again. “I think we’ve done enough wallowing, don’t you?”
“I... I guess.”
“Look, Son,”—he dropped the jolly elf act and his expression grew serious again—“I owe you an apology. Since your mom left, I’ve been... well, I’ve been checked out. I saw the signs. I watched her blossom under another man’s attention.” He swallowed as if the words were painful to say. “But I was too focused on work, on making the business a success, to see it. By the time I realized, it was too late. Not a day has gone by when I haven’t wished I’d noticed sooner.”
“Dad, you don’t need to—”
“Yes, yes I do. I’ve done a lot of soul searching the last couple of weeks and I’ve realized I need to do better. Devon, I’m sorry. So very sorry.”
I had no words. I’d waited so long to hear this. To have some semblance of my dad back but part of me had wondered if he’d checked out for good. He grabbed me, pulling me into his arms, and all I could do was hold on.
When we finally broke away, we both rubbed our faces. “Right, where were we?” He cleared his throat.
“Something about a ham?” I said.
“Ah yes, the ham.” He scratched his head glancing at the oven. “I don’t suppose you have any idea how to cook a ham do you?”
“No idea.” My chest rumbled with laughter. “But I’m sure we can figure it out.”
Four hours and three recipes later, we were sitting in the living room watching one of our favorite holiday movies, Bad Santa.
“I am stuffed.” Dad stretched out in his chair rubbing his post-ham pot-belly. “We did good, Son.”
I glanced over at him and saw something I hadn’t seen in his eyes for a long time—hope. Inclining my head, I studied him. “Is there something you want to tell me, Dad?”
“Hmm... I... say what now?” His cheeks heated, and my chest rumbled with quiet laughter.
“It’s okay, Dad, you can talk to me.” I don’t know how I knew, but all day I’d watched him. He had this glow, and while I’d wanted to believe it was all down to me and our first Christmas together, I’d slowly begun to suspect there was more at play than just festive spirit.
“I... wow.” He smiled tightly. “There’s no getting past you, kid, is there? I didn’t want today to be about anything other than us.”
“Dad, it’s fine. I’m fine. What’s her name?”
“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Sherri, her name’s Sherri.”
“How’d you guys meet?”
“Whoa there, slow down now. We had drinks once. That’s all, I swear. I think she took pity on this old man drinking alone.”
“I’m sure she didn’t.”
“It felt good, you know? Talking to a woman. Knowing I’ve still got it.” His eyes twinkled. “Even if nothing happens, it reminded me that life goes on.”
“That’s good, Dad, real good.”
“It got me thinking about something. Wait here a second.” He disappeared out of the living room. When he returned, my eyes grew to saucers. But before I could speak, he said, “Merry Christmas, Son.”
I accepted the gift from him, my eyes running over the Gibson guitar. “Dad, this is too much.”
“She’s used, but the guy said she’d only had one owner and had plenty of use left in her. She’s a beaut, isn’t she?” He admired the worn cherry body as I ran my hands over the neck, relishing the feel of her beneath my fingers.
“She is,” I agreed. “But are you sure you can afford—”
“Now, now, it’s a gift. I lost your mother to work, I won’t lose you too.”
“You’re not going to lose me, Dad. I already told you I’ll be with the company after graduation. Whatever you need.”
“And that’s real admirable, Son, but I can’t accept.”
“W- what?” I stared at him, confused.
“Lions Construction is my dream. Not yours. You should be going off to college, finding yourself, figuring out what you want to do with your life. Me and the business will always be here, and there will always be a place for you... but only if you truly want it.”
“Dad, I...” the words stuck in my throat. He was offering me everything I’d ever wanted. A shot at music, at college. But...
“I couldn’t do that to you,” I said.
“Yes, you damn well can. Devon, I want you to follow your dreams. I’ve been selfish for long enough, but that all changes starting now. I know it’s probably too late in the day for scholarships, but we’ll figure something out.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Which is why I have beer. Merry Christmas, Devon.” He produced a beer from the small cooler at the side of his chair.
“Merry Christmas, Dad.” I leaned over, grabbed a bottle and clinked it against his.
I’d dreaded Christmas. The first Christmas without Mom, and with no Macey by my side. But Dad had surprised me in more ways than one. And I had a feeling that maybe, just maybe, things would work out.
“SON, THERE’S SOMEONE here to see you.”
My fingers paused against the strings at the sound of Dad’s voice. It was the day after Christmas Day. Liam was spending the day with Autumn, and Jared was with his family, so I’d planned on spending some quality time with my new guitar.
I hadn’t expected a visitor.
But as I made my way down the hall trying to figure out who might be visiting, no one could have prepared me for who I found standing at my door.
“Maverick?” I had to pick my jaw up off the floor. He raked a hand over his head, looking every bit as surprised and uncomfortable as I felt.
“I’ll give you two some privacy,” Dad said, squeez
ing my shoulder as he left us.
“I...” Nope. I had nothing. Okay, I had one thing. “If you’ve come to kick my ass, can we at least do it outside?”
His lip curved in an amused smirk. “I’m not here to kick your ass, Lions. Can we talk?”
“Talk? You came here, to my house, to talk?”
“No one is more surprised than me, trust me. I could really use a beer.” He left the unspoken question hanging in the air.
“Sure, come in, I guess. We can sit out back.”
Maverick followed me inside the house. Dad had made himself scarce. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned. Grabbing two beers from the refrigerator, I motioned to the back door.
Macey and I were done, but it didn’t stop me from wondering what Maverick saw as I led him outside to the yard. “Sorry about the mess.” I winced at my words, hating that even after everything, I still cared what he might think.
“You should see my dorm room.” I was almost certain I heard a smile in his voice.
We sat there, in two garden chairs in my small yard, drinking beers like old friends. Except we weren’t friends, and I still had no idea why he was here.
“She didn’t sleep with Trey.” Maverick leaned forward, the beer hanging from his fingers. But he didn’t look at me. He just stared straight ahead as if this conversation was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
It occurred to me, it might have been.
“Did you hear me?” he asked, when I didn’t reply.
“I heard you. But it doesn’t change anything. Macey was never planning on giving us a real shot. She’s moving three thousand miles across country for fuck’s sake.”
He finally lifted his head and looked at me. “That’s not about you, it’s about me. Our family. But not you, Devon.”
Devon.
I don’t think I’d ever heard him say my name before. It was strange.
This whole thing was strange.
“Do you hear what I’m telling you? Nothing happened between them.”
