“That’s all you have to say about it?”
“There’s nothing I can say.”
“I’ll send it to you.”
I nod as I pick up the bottle of vanilla vodka from the coffee table and take a quick drink.
He tucks the phone into his jacket, watching me. “Whoa, there, Simone. Hitting it hard tonight? All alone?”
I shrug and offer him the bottle. “Just having a drink. Want one?”
“I’m on duty in an hour.”
“Sorry, officer.” I use the somewhat mocking tone my brother uses on Ricky at times. “Put the cuffs on me and take me downtown.”
Ricky bites his lip and then, almost apprehensive, laughs. “Yeah. I would, but I don’t have them on me yet.”
“Then I guess I’ll keep drinking in peace.” I take another small sip, mostly just wetting my lips and licking the alcohol off them. It doesn’t burn that way. I most definitely could be a lizard. “So, why are you here?”
He shrugs as he watches me take another drink and then lick my lips, out of habit at this point. Ricky hesitates again. “Just... I... Just thought I’d stop by and show you the picture. See how you’re doing.”
“Thanks.” I frown, not feeling particularly grateful at the moment.
When I bend to put the bottle down, I also realize I’m wearing the booty shorts I wear to bed. Ricky clears his throat, and I look over at him, pulling them down some to cover me more. “What?”
“What the hell are you doing, Simone? Why him?”
I cross my arms again since his brown eyes drift to my tits. Maybe I’ve had more alcohol than I realized too. “I don’t have a reason.”
“There has to be one to have dragged me into this scheme of yours.”
My eyes sting, but I power through. “It didn’t work, so I don’t need you anymore.”
Ricky runs both hands through his hair, roughing up the TV hair of his costume. “Hey, now. I do have feelings. Damn.” As he returns his hair to its natural disorder, Ricky’s eyes flicker to my chest and then back up to my face. “What does he have that I don’t? I mean, seriously.”
I shrug, looking away from him. “Nothing.” Everything.
Even though I don’t say more, Ricky says, “Oh, no, man. Christ Almighty. Shit. You’re kidding me.”
Genuinely stumped, I ask, “About what?”
Ricky shakes his head, crossing his arms, and just about glares at me. “You’ve fallen for fucking Greg Rodwell.”
I laugh, turning back to the vodka. “No, I haven’t.”
“Such bullshit. You know I can spot a lie a mile away, right?”
“I’m not lying,” I argue, but he still doesn’t believe me.
“You were basically living with him, helping take care of his kid. Who does that kind of shit for someone they barely like?”
“Like you, he’s just a friend.” I sigh, hating this new line of questioning.
“A friend whose attention you’re obsessed with scoring. You’ve been pretending to have a crush on me. You helped him with his daughter in exchange for him spending time with you, helping to win me. You even stayed at his apartment. That’s batshit crazy. What’s crazier is that I agreed to help you do it all, showing up at the gym when you needed me to, flirting with you in front of him, and making sure he sees me checking you out? All to get Rodwell to notice you and make him jealous. You know how hard it is to keep this scam from Finn? Not easy when all of us are together. If he thought you and I were hooking up behind his back and betraying his trust, Richmond’s star sportscaster would chop me up into little pieces with a chainsaw. On his fucking sports segment. No dare required.”
“Let him. Killing a police officer is a big crime, especially with a million witnesses. He’d go to prison for a long time.”
“Sure. But I’d be dead.”
“I guess so.”
He frowns. “Try to not get too broken up about it. Christ. Don’t forget I’m risking my ass for you.”
“I’m not trying to upset the fucking dare princess. He’ll just have to get over it.”
Ricky grins. “I’ll give you 50 bucks if you call him princess to his face when I’m around.”
“Deal. Anyway, it’s none of Finn’s damn business who I’m with.”
“Is that the point of this? Sex? I mean, Greg Rodwell is far from the only single guy in Richmond.”
“I imagine he’s not.”
“Shit. Forget about Finn thinking we’re hooking up. If you fuck Rodwell, your brother will kill him with his bare hands. I’ll help him bury the body. You know I would.”
“Finn did ask if I was dating Greg since I was helping him with Birdy. I asked him if it was a problem and he said he wouldn’t care if we were dating.”
Ricky laughs. “Good God. And you believed him? That’s funny.”
“I’d handle Finn.”
“Right.” He sighs, licking his lips as his eyes again land on my chest. “If Rodwell hasn’t taken the bait by now, he’s a fucking dumbass. Shit. You’re... You should just move on. Give someone else a chance, who maybe you’re overlooking.”
“There isn’t anyone else. And it’s not about screwing him.” I told Greg I like sex. The truth is I could take or leave sex. Most of my ex-boyfriends bored me. I didn’t even want sex anymore. But when I was with Greg, I suddenly wanted it so fucking bad with him. I had never wanted a cock like I did his. I was to the point of wanting to fuck him on the couch, jeans on, skirt up, and no condom. Just owning him. He doesn’t know I saw him in his room without his shirt during my week with him. That had me jilling off against the wall in his bathroom. I had to bite down on a finger to not yell his name as I came hard, hearing him in the living room talking to Birdy.
“Then, what is it about?”
“He’s so funny. He’s a good person. I love his best friend. He has great fashion sense. He’s trying to be a good daddy to Birdy. He’s a loyal friend. An awesome softball player. An ace at pool.” I giggle, forgetting Ricky’s watching me. “But he has a horrendous nickname. His truck is horrible. He’s totally oblivious to me. He’s a mediocre baby burper. A terrible cook...” And because of every single one of those things, Greg Rodwell is the sexiest guy I’ve ever met. Who doesn’t want me.
“So, I’m right. You’re in love with him.”
Remembering how Greg questioned my reputation, I lose my smile. “Stop saying that. I’m not.”
“Say whatever you want. I’m calling it as I see it. I’m sort of trained to notice these things.”
“You’re wrong. I just like him.” I did. A lot. Now, I don’t know how to feel about him.
Ricky lifts one of his crossed arms and touches his bottom lip with his finger, studying me. “So, you’re dating other guys?”
“No.”
He sighs, sounding more irritated as he talks. “I don’t get it, Simone. You’re infatuated with a guy who’s not interested. And it’s goddamn Greg Rodwell for fuck’s sake. You can do so much better.”
“As in you?” I laugh and roll my eyes, picking up the vodka. I don’t know why I put it down.
Ricky smirks, but his gaze suddenly falls away from mine. “Well...yeah.”
I take a sip and laugh again. “My brother would murder you. Chainsaw? TV? Remember?”
“If we went behind his back, he would be mad. But if we’re honest with him from the start...”
I laugh, but Ricky doesn’t, and I instantly stop. “Jesus. You’re serious?”
He shrugs, but his dark brown eyes are now intent on mine. “Yeah. Serious.”
“Why?” I anxiously laugh, again perplexed. Ricky has never given me a second look before. I’ve always been his friend’s brat sister. Ricky is muy caliente. I don’t deny that at all. But he’s also a player. A cheater. I’m neither. I can’t even cheat on a non-boyfriend who thinks I run some kind of stud farm on the side.
“Why am I serious? Because...” Ricky smirks and then laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because I like yo
u. I always have, Simone. It’s just that the timing has always been off. I mean, I met you when you were 14 or 15. I was married. Things change.” His eyes wander over me, and I read between the lines.
“I grew boobs, you mean? I have an ass now.”
He laughs louder. “Shit. Yeah. You definitely do.”
“But I’m no virgin. I know those are your favorite.” Being Finn Wilder’s sister, my brother would just love to hear how I lost my virginity on a dare, having a lot to prove.
Ricky’s smile recedes. “And how the hell would you know that?”
“I heard you talking to Finn a few years ago. You said finding a virgin is a rare diamond in the rough. You compared them to tearing open Christmas presents.”
“Fuck. That doesn’t mean anything. We were just talking, Simone. I didn’t know you were listening. Shit. What else have you heard?”
“I heard you tell Finn to marry Hadley.”
“I did. He was losing her. Someone else was bound to come along. That would’ve...killed him.” Ricky frowns like someone just stabbed him in the stomach.
“My brother would die without Hadley. I’m not stupid. That’s the way it would be, he’s so in love with her. They have a Romeo/Juliet dynamic. I don’t know how in the hell he made it through their breakup. If it had gone on much longer or if she hadn’t taken him back, he wouldn’t be here.”
Ricky doesn’t comment, but his solemn expression says he knows shit I don’t.
Pushing that aside, I state, “I don’t want casual, Ricky. I want a love like they have.”
“I figured that, Simone. I’m not talking casual. Your little scheme worked on me when it was supposed to work on Rodwell. I didn’t like seeing you with him. It made me see you in a different light and think maybe there really is a chance with you.”
“You’re like 11 years older than me. You’ve been married twice. I don’t think you know what you want. I do.”
“Shay dumped me. It wasn’t my fault.”
“I’m sorry about that. But I want the butterflies. I want the fireworks. I want the real thing. I know I sound cheesy and I know fairytales don’t exist, but I want to be swept off my feet. Hard. I want him to be addicted to me as much as I crave him. I want it all. And if I can’t get what I want...from any man...then I don’t want any of it. I refuse to settle for fucking less.”
“Shit. But you’re hung up on Rodwell. Do you think he’ll give you any of that?” He was off to a great start with the butterflies and how I craved him. Before he basically called me a slut. My heart aches, thinking of Greg connecting Shasta’s dots of lies. She’s a fortunate bitch for having him even once. I only get a far-fetched fantasy.
“I doubt you can give me any of it either. Your past track record and your current playlist are...full. I’d just be one in the shuffle.”
Ricky looks at his watch and then says, “Finn is my best friend, Simone. You’re the one woman I can’t hurt. I have so much to lose if I do.”
“I can’t...”
He nods, sighing, “Rodwell.”
“Nobody right now. But I’ll think about what you said.”
Ricky’s smile doesn’t return. “Okay. We don’t have to say anything to your brother until... Just... Don’t leave me hanging for too long.” He leans over, kissing my cheek, something he’s done thousands of times before. It feels different now, though. “Night, Simone.”
“Bye. Have a good night at work, Officer Tesco.”
“Yeah. I’ll try.” He pauses before going out the door, looking at me but not saying anything. When he leaves, it’s only then I realize the gravity of what Ricky just said. After all these years, he wants me. Still, I don’t feel the same for him. Maybe that’ll change.
But...Greg.
But he fucking hurt me. I wanted him more than any guy I’ve dated. And contrary to Shasta’s belief and now Greg’s, I don’t have one-night stands, sleep with strangers, or plunder random cocks, as he accused me of doing. I’ve been faithful to him since the day we met on the sidewalk in front of his gym, after stalking him that day, finding out from my brother who he was.
Then, he’s even starting to date Rhonda. Why can’t he want me?
Feeling hot from everything Ricky said, I pull off my T-shirt and toss it onto the couch. My phone dings with a text from Ricky. The picture of Greg pops up, and I sit down, staring at it. His hair is styled straight up in the air, and he’s wearing a flannel with the sleeves rolled up, a T-shirt, and ripped jeans, the same ones he wore to our last practice. I’d remember them anywhere. He’s standing next to Rhonda, Ali, and Hadley, who has her arm around his as they smile at each other. A real smile. I wish he would’ve smiled at me like that. All he knew how to do with me was argue or ignore me altogether. But I’m glad he has Hadley.
Damn it, though. I miss Birdy. I miss the butterflies.
I miss him the most.
My eyes burn again, and I clench my teeth. I won’t cry.
Goddamn it.
Ricky’s right.
CHAPTER 22
When I pull into the driveway, I reevaluate why I’m here. Maybe it’s to apologize for earlier. Maybe it’s to tell her about Shasta and Grant. Maybe it’s to tell her about Simone. Maybe it’s to admit to her what happened graduation night. Maybe it’s to confess that we have a daughter together.
It’s late, so I forego the doorbell and knock. With Wilder coming home soon, I need to decide why I’m here. Hadley peeks out the window, confused before she answers the door. With her hair down and no makeup, she’s wearing red shorts, and a white T-shirt sporting Wilder’s station. Taking one look at my face, she says, “Rod, you’re a mess!”
Inhaling a raspy breath, I’m only setting myself up for more torture. “Where’s the baby?”
“Julie put Finley to bed and then fell asleep. I’ve been worried about you. So...upset. You and Ali... Did you really...?” Hadley blinks away tears as she waits for me to answer her.
I whisper, “I didn’t do that with her.”
She sighs, relieved, but she doesn’t say so. She doesn’t have to. Sniffing, I hoarsely ask, “Hadders, do you love me?”
As she holds onto the door, her wet eyes widen, and she’s quiet. I avert my gaze to the bush next to the stoop, so Hadley doesn’t see me fucking cry more. “Look, I know... Shit. No, I don’t know. I just... I wish you loved me. Because right now, I need it.”
“Greg. Wow. I...”
“Fuck. I already know your answer. But it’s torture no matter what it is. I do know that much. I know I shouldn’t be here either.” I sniff and take a step back, but as I do, Hadley grabs my hand, yanking me into her house. As she pushes the door closed, she looks up at me, her tears falling right along with mine. My hands go to her face, and I lean my forehead against hers.
She whispers, “I’m sorry for hurting you. I never meant to. Never ever.”
Lifting my head from hers, I make another confession that I was also taking to my grave. “Hadley, I’m kind of in love with you. Jesus Christ, I am. I’ve loved you from the beginning. Every single day. Every single night.”
She shakes somewhat as she whispers back, “I...know.”
Before either of us says another word, I kiss her. The kind where nothing else fucking matters.
The kind where her hands go to my chest, scrunching my shirt in her fists as we both moan.
The kind where she falls against the wall as I lean into her more, picking up where I left off that almost-night in her hotel room.
The kind where my hands go to her ass, wrenching her against me before we fall against the wall again.
The kind you shouldn’t do with a married woman.
But this time, I’m not bolting, even as my frustrated body, my broken heart, and my fucked-up mind race.
Dear E,
Your little brother is beyond help so call off the shitty search party and stop the goddamn beyond-the-grave sermons. The last of my rationale has hit the skids and exploded. I know that. Maybe I’
m unhinged. Maybe I torched every fucking bridge I ever crossed on my way over here, but I’ve come full circle. Back to the start. There’s no going back.
Simone hates me. Yeah, well after what she just did to me, I might just hate her too. I was right about Garrison from the beginning. But she’s Finn Wilder’s whore of a sister, so I shouldn’t be surprised she exploited and tortured me. Clawed at my soul until I bled out at her feet. Fuck her. But it won’t be me doing the fucking.
I know kissing Hadley will lead to something more in the next few seconds, but I also know it will go one of two ways.
So, go ahead and judge me. But just so you know, I also lost every last fuck I had to spare. Even for a dead chick.
Scratch that.
I did save one fuck.
Because either way it goes with Hadley right now, I’m leaving here totally screwed.
Greg
The door refuses to open. Slamming my shoulder into it does nothing, so I kick the fucker, and it flies open, echoing off the wall like a gunshot in a tin can. I then kick it closed—not unlike any sound normally heard around here at night—as I rub the back of my hand over my eye.
I thought it was exactly what I needed.
But going there with her, right or wrong...
Shit.
Dropping to the couch, I hunch over my thighs, holding my head in my quaking hands. What the fuck did I just do? This night, every single second of it, has been life-changing, most of which have changed me.
I can’t believe the things I said. The things I did. The women I kissed. The women I...
Jesus H. Christ.
Too amped up, I can’t even sit for three seconds, so I pace the living room, not having anywhere to go, anyone to talk to, or anything to do. I think I pretty much covered all those bases tonight.
Son of a bitch.
I won’t be able to sleep or eat for days. All I’ll think about is tonight. My confessions. My indiscretions—if I’d call them that. They were more like complete breaks from a shitty reality.
A knock lands on my door, making my heart pound harder than it already is. There’s nothing I can do to calm my shaking or my extreme thoughts, but I go to the door anyway hoping Death didn’t forget me after all.
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