by Kylie Scott
“I didn’t fuck your friend, Nell!”
“I made a mistake. I got drunk, and I made a mistake.” Again, her eyes welled with tears.
Hand outstretched, Eric stepped forward. “Pat—”
“I don’t want to hear a single thing from you.” Beneath his faded black shirt, Pat’s shoulders heaved. “Not a single damn thing ever again.”
Mouth hanging open, Vaughan didn’t seem to know where to look. All of his family and friends gathered around him and now this. What should have been a positive experience had hit the wall.
“I trusted you,” snarled Pat. “I trusted both of you.”
“Enough,” said Vaughan, shoving a hand through his hair, obviously struggling. “Leave, Eric. Now.”
“Christ.” Eric hung his head, giving a harsh laugh. “I came here to smooth things over with you. To bury the hatchet. This is such bullshit.”
“Man, c’mon.” Joe grabbed at Eric’s shoulder, but he shook it off.
“Bullshit is it?” Pat took a step forward. “You fuck my wife and that’s bullshit?”
“You know what I don’t get,” said Eric. “You walked out on her, man. So why are you so bitter about this? Got some regrets, Pat?”
“Stop it.” Nell groaned, tears coursing down her face.
“She wasn’t your wife,” continued Eric as if he hadn’t heard. “You heard her. You two had been separated for ages. It isn’t like you’ve been waiting for the divorce to come through before moving on, is it? More like making up for lost time if you ask me.”
“Both of you assholes, shut up now,” yelled Vaughan. “You don’t make my sister cry. Not here, not in this house.”
Lip curled, Pat glared at Eric. Neither of them moving.
Vaughan took a deep breath, visibly reaching for calm. “I think it’d be best for now if both of you left.”
A sobbing sound came from Nell and she turned her face away, obviously distraught. Funnily enough, the fury in Pat’s eyes faded when he saw her in that state. But I don’t think Eric noticed at all, cruel gaze and handsome face warped with anger.
“You know, Pat, I thought you were crazy sticking with the one woman all these years,” said Eric, holding his face up. His smile was more of a sneer. “But now I understand. Fuck me, if Nell isn’t the hottest piece of—”
With a roar, Vaughan suddenly launched himself at the man. Fists flew, sickening thuds. “You don’t talk about her that way!”
Feet kicking, voices shouting, wood splintering as the coffee table exploded beneath the brawling men. Things moved impossibly fast. Someone was screaming. Nell, I think. It was all too much for my drunk dazed mind to comprehend.
Rosie grabbed my arm, hauling me as best she could over the back of the couch. I scrambled to keep up. To get to safety. The two men were like a hurricane, destroying everything in their path. Warm blood splattered my face, then I was up and over, falling onto the floor, crawling away to stand by Nell.
Both Joe and Pat entered the fray. I think Joe tried to tear the men apart, but Pat seemed to have lost his senses. While trying to land a punch on Eric, he clipped Joe’s arm. Joe defended his brother. Of course he did. The couch was shoved back, sliding toward us. I put out my hands, pushing back before it made impact. Rosie grabbed Nell’s arm, dragging her into the hallway.
Fuck. I’d never seen a fight before. Not like this.
I wanted to heave. And Vaughan was in there, caught up in that mess. The thought of him getting hurt made me want to do something extreme. God knows, he’d stood up for me more than once.
“Don’t,” said Andre, pulling me farther back before I could do something stupid. Probably unnecessary, my feet were stuck, frozen. The rest of my body was pretty much stuck too, deep in shock.
On the floor, the four men fought it out. I could only see blood and violence, Vaughan and Eric still struggling on the floor. In the hallway, Nell gave into the impulse to puke. The sound and smell made me swallow hard. I took deep breaths.
Time seemed to be messed up. Because it didn’t feel like that long until I heard sirens fill the air.
“Thank god,” I said, sagging against Andre.
His arm tightened around my waist, his head leaning against mine. It wasn’t sexual in the least. We both needed the comfort.
“It’ll be okay,” he said. “They’ve all been friends for a long time. They’ll work it out.”
“You really believe that?”
He puffed out a breath. “No.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
I stood at the foot of Vaughan’s bed, slowly looking the half-naked man over. Moonlight shone through the open window, a summer breeze toying with the curtain. The things he did to me. All the emotions and effects of just being near him. Crazy. It was crazy.
“What?” he asked, voice husky.
“Just thinking.” I smiled.
“About?”
“How hot you look lying on your bed with a bag of frozen beans stuffed down your jeans to ice your bruised balls.”
One side of his cracked, puffy lips started moving upward. Then stopped. “Ow. Thanks.”
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No.” He patted the mattress beside him. “Sit with me awhile?”
“Sure.” I sat by his side, trying not to move the mattress too much and aggravate his sore bits. Kind of hard considering the beating he’d taken.
“Can’t believe Eric kneed me in the groin,” he said, sounding wounded. “Even for him, that’s low.”
“You did attack him first.”
“Mm.” He sighed. “He had no business talking about Nell like that. I don’t care what’s gone down between them or how long I’ve been away. I’m still her brother. No way could I just stand by and let him say those sorts of things.”
“I get that you needed to defend your sister.”
He made a noise. God only knew what it meant.
“I thought it was nice of Officer Andy not to throw you all in jail.”
Vaughan snorted. “He would have if Nell hadn’t been here. Schmuck. Couldn’t believe the way he was crawling up her ass.”
“It’s just as well she could talk him into walking away.”
He watched me from his one good eye; the other was hidden beneath an ice pack. Shadows and lumps marred his beautiful face and one side of his ribs.
“I better let you get some sleep.”
“You okay?” he asked.
I halted, searching for the right words. Thing was, there were none. “The fight scared me, Vaughan. Hell, it terrified me. You could have been seriously injured.”
“Lydia,” he said, then stopped. With various pained noises he moved himself over, making more room. “Lie down.”
With nil grace, I did as asked, kicking off my shoes and lying down on the bed beside him. Head on the pillow, I immediately started to yawn. It had to be three, four in the morning at least. Any alcohol-induced happy buzz had worn off hours ago. Soon enough the sun would be rising. What a night.
“Hey.” He hooked my pinkie with his, holding on tight. “Thanks for worrying about me.”
“I was worried about all of you.”
A pause. “That’s not what you said.”
“Yes, it was.”
“No. You said, you could have been seriously injured. ‘You’ meaning me,” he said, carefully turning his head to face me.
I just sniffed tiredly.
“You were worried about me.”
“Whatever.”
Shadows shifted across the ceiling, dark and mysterious. Outside, with the exception of the occasional horny bug sending out its booty call, silence reigned. Everyone was asleep. Or at least everyone in our little corner of the world.
“Is that why Andre had his arm around you,” he asked out of nowhere. “Cause you were scared?”
I rose up on one elbow. “You and Eric were trying to kill each other and you still somehow managed to notice this?”
No answer.
Amazing. The man was simply amazing. I lay back down, resumed staring at the ceiling. My ribs felt a size too small; all the important organs in there were overexcited. I tried not to smile, but failed.
“You going to say something?” he asked eventually.
“You like me.” The knowledge sank deep, soaking into my bones and settling. With it came a strange sort of calmness, a rightness, even though I should have been freaking right out about how transient we were. Sensibility dictated I keep him at arm’s length. Sense wanted to stick its hand down his pants, bury its nose in his neck, and get something going. Now.
“Didn’t we cover this already?” He gave my pinkie a squeeze.
“I don’t know. Somehow it feels more real now. Or maybe I wasn’t listening properly before.” I grinned. “Or maybe I’m just having a moment.”
“You’re always having moments.”
True. “Deal with it. If you hadn’t gotten involved in the fight we could be getting biblical.”
A long and loaded moan. “Do not talk to me about sex right now.”
“I’m just saying…”
“Well, don’t.”
“Fine. I won’t.” I shut my eyes tight, took a great big breath then slowly let it out. Disappointment. It sucked. Things low in my belly leading to my loins were aware they’d been very badly treated.
Completely denied.
Christmas lay right beside me, but I couldn’t touch my present for fear of hurting him further. I might just beat up Eric myself. Slap him around the head a few times with a handbag, something like that. It would be fitting.
Vaughan’s hand slid over mine. Care of the calluses on his fingers from playing guitar, they weren’t soft. The skin there was harder, jagged, even. But I didn’t mind. He could touch me as much as he liked. Hell, mood I was in, I’d tape myself permanently to his side if I could get away with such a thing.
“Did you hear from the real estate agent?” I turned my hand over, palm side up. All the better to catch his fingers with mine and hold on.
“He’s bringing through some people tomorrow. Guess the trashed sitting room isn’t going to look so great.” He swore softly.
“It’s fine,” I said. “Nell and Rosie and I cleaned up the worst of the mess. If they ask, he’ll say you’re a minimalist who doesn’t believe in having much furniture or something. It’ll be fine.”
A sigh. “Yeah. Well, it’ll have to be. Thanks for helping out.”
“No problem.” I gently lifted his hand to my lips and kissed it, careful to avoid the two cracked knuckles. “Can I ask a personal question?”
“Shoot.” He didn’t even hesitate.
“What’s the deal with Eric and you? Why did he react so badly to you working at the bar in the first place?”
The groaning was back, but it soon turned into laughter. The sound was not a happy one. “Thought you’d have asked about that before now, actually. After that damn scene at the bar last night.”
“I didn’t want to pry.”
Without a word he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. Oh, god. I was melting. All they’d find of me come morning was soppy goo on the bed and it was all his fault.
“I like you, Lydia.”
“I like you too, Vaughan. Now give me the gossip.”
His laughter turned to an altogether more acceptable sound. “Eric was in the band all during high school. Helped me put it together, actually. We were tight back then. His parents only live a street over, so we pretty much grew up together…”
“What happened?”
“Same things that’s happening now. He fucked it up with the band. He was always screwing around, never taking the group seriously. All he had to do was learn how to hit the fucking drums in time, but was he able to do it?” He held my hand to his chest, heart pounding away against the back of my hand. It felt strong, good, like the man it lay within. “Not a chance. I warned him, if he didn’t get his act together then he wasn’t coming west with us after graduation. Guess he didn’t believe me. Time came and I had to tell him he was out. He didn’t take it well.”
I sucked in a breath, blowing it out between pursed lips. “Hell. That must have sucked. Now I know why you were nervous about showing up to work at the Dive Bar.”
“Yeah.” He said no more.
We lay in silence, holding hands, ever so slowly dozing off to sleep. Despite my busy mind, exhaustion called to me loud and clear. Sheets and pillow smelling of Vaughan, the heat of his body right next to mine and a cool early morning summer breeze blowing in through the window. My own personal paradise. God, if anything I was overtired. The weight of my body seemed to have tripled, and yet, it felt light as a feather at the same time. Like I could feel myself sinking through the mattress and floating off into the ether, attached to the earth only by Vaughan’s hand. I wanted to float there forever, having sweet dreams.
I wondered how Chris and Paul were doing, living it up in Hawaii. Interesting, the thought could almost drift through my brain without me wanting to go into a berserker rage and set fire to shit. Almost. The time Chris and I had spent together, the wedding that never was, all of it just kind of free-fell through my mind.
Beside me, Vaughan’s bare chest rose and fell in perfect rhythm. All of his immaculate ink no more than a blur in the low light. The eye that I could see was closed, his poor battered face relaxed.
“I didn’t love Chris like I should have,” I whispered. “I think I was just lonely and all the attention … I don’t know, it went to my head or something. But it wasn’t real.”
He didn’t move. Nothing changed. The night went on.
I stared back up at his bedroom ceiling, my old friend. It made as good a witness to my confession as any. “In two and a half days I think I’ve honestly come to feel more for you than I ever felt for him. It’s different, though. I thought I knew exactly how life would be with Chris. What we’d do, how we’d be together. He fit into this mold that I thought I wanted and understood, and you don’t.”
I rolled my eyes back, moaning at my own drama-itis. Nothing made sense. Everything perplexed me. Vaughan Hewson had my vagina on insta-dial if he could just figure it out. Pathetic, crazy, and all the rest. Hang my sad sore heart to dry and be done with it already. Gah.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I wouldn’t give up a second with you for all the months of being lied to and manipulated by him, as insane as that sounds. That’s all. The end.”
There, it was out there, floating around in the universe. The truth as I knew it released.
God, it felt like some mammoth weight, some big cumbersome bastard, had been lifted off me and thrown into the abyss. Down and down into the darkness.
Let the new day begin and all of yesterday’s crap go. I was done with it. It hurt, it cost me, and I was done with it. I’d lived, I’d learned, et cetera.
Wisdom came at a bitch of a price. But I’d paid it and now I’d move on.
“Babe,” said a voice in the darkness, grasping my hand.
“I thought you were asleep,” I said, voice weirdly clogged. I guess throwing off your emotional crap into the depths of space took a toll on your nasal cavities. “Are you in pain? Do you need me to get you something?”
“No. Just stay with me.”
“Okay.”
Silence.
“Are you drunk?”
“No,” I said, feeling myself inside and out. “No, I don’t think so. I think it wore off a while back.”
“’kay.”
Silence.
“Lydia, the band breaking up, having to come back here…” His breathing in the darkness sounded so loud, profound, even. The silence broken and my secrets revealed. Man, it was so always the way with him. I couldn’t hide if I tried.
“Yeah,” I asked, urging him to go on.
“Meeting you makes it almost worthwhile.”
Almost. But his pain, his dreams had taken a decade or more than mine to grow and die. Our situations weren’t t
he same. That was the truth.
“Thank you,” I said, holding on tight to his hand.
“Go to sleep, babe. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Men were the weirdest.
We’d been scheduled to work from noon until nine the next day. As soon as we entered the Dive Bar, Vaughan oh so casually headed behind the bar, moseying up alongside Eric, who was chatting with his brother, Joe. It was ridiculous. Five rounds with Godzilla couldn’t have made the three men any prettier. Busted lips, black eyes, grazed cheekbones, they had it all. Ninety-nine percent of their faces were colored black and blue.
The men all looked at each other … and nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
They did the manly chin-tip thing then got to work. If the fight had been between women, I’m pretty sure hostilities would have carried on for months. Which just goes to prove my point regarding women being the superior species, and having more commitment to things in general. We stick.
Today, the chalkboards hanging on the walls of the Dive Bar were all about tacos. The menu options were always based on whatever Nell happened to be in the mood to cook. Some staples were always on offer, such as steak, mac n cheese, sliders, and fries covered in every good thing you could imagine. Stuff like that. But outside of those, what might be available was a constant gastronomic mystery.
Got to admire a woman who respects Taco Tuesday, though.
Scrawled across the boards were shredded beef, chili lime chicken, spicy shrimp, and roasted sweet potato with black beans. Yum. I was getting high just off the smell. The Dive Bar was fast becoming my happy place.
I filled my tray with a combination of margaritas, a couple of Coronas, and a shot of Herradura tequila with a slice of lemon on the side.
“All good?” asked Vaughan.
“All good.” I looked between him and Joe, smirking just a little. “How’s fight club going, boys?”
“Can’t talk about it,” mumbled Joe.
I laughed and lifted my tray, heading over to serve the order to a group of older couples. They were on their second round of drinks—smiling, relaxing, and just plain having a nice time.
