by Mari Carr
Ugh. She was done with her life. Something had to give.
Luckily, the regulars seemed to figure out she was in no mood to talk by her quick nods and hasty retreat.
She’d just reached the door to the stairway when she heard her name.
Not being called out—but sung.
Ailis turned toward the stage just as Hunter sang, “Ailis, don’t leave so soon. I need you to, report to the stage,” to the tune of “Hey Jude.” None of the patrons seemed to mind the fact Hunter was screwing up their favorite Beatles song. Instead, they chuckled and pointed her toward the stage as if she had no choice.
“Hunter wants to talk to you, honey,” Mrs. Warren said.
Ailis sighed. She should have known an easy escape wouldn’t be possible. She looked at Hunter, shook her head wearily and pointed to the floor above their heads, hoping he’d get the message. Of course, the ornery man didn’t acknowledge her unspoken request. Instead, he just kept rewriting one of John and Paul’s greatest hits.
“This is my last song. Don’t make me come up and get you,” he sang, taking some liberties with the notes as “get” was dragged out over at least four or five of them.
Ailis gave up. There were too many people looking at her now, and she wanted him to stop singing to her and finish the song right. She hated being the center of attention, and Hunter knew it.
She crossed her arms and leaned against the back wall. Hunter gave her a devilish grin, pleased to have won. He returned to the classic lyrics as several patrons joined in. And then, at last, the song—and his set—was over.
She walked to the stage as he unplugged the amp, put his guitar away, and packed up several cords.
“Given the fact you’re home before midnight, I’m going to go out on a limb and say the date sucked,” he said before she could chastise him for his song.
“It was lousy.”
“What happened?”
“What happened is you and I both squandered our twenties dating the wrong people and now all the decent men and women are married. What’s left on the market isn’t a pretty sight.”
Hunter chuckled. “I wouldn’t say that. I’ve gone out with more than a few—”
“Sleeping with is not the same as going out with, Hunter. We’ve gone over this before.”
“Maybe not, but sex helps take the edge off. You should try it sometime. You’re wound up tighter than a drum.”
She sat on the edge of the stage and looked across the pub as she spoke. “You know I’m not going to do that.”
Hunter dropped down next to her. “I’m being serious, Ailis. You’ve only slept with one guy your entire life and it was fucking stick-in-the-mud Paul Marshall. Which means you probably didn’t do anything more exciting than missionary.”
“You know, he used to be your best friend.”
“That’s right, he was. I know the man and all his faults. That’s how I know your sex life was uneventful. Go out and get laid. Extra credit if you do something kinky.”
They’d had this argument too many times in the past year, which meant she knew exactly how it was going to end. At an impasse. With her bemoaning his man-slut ways and him calling her a virgin. Neither of them made those comments with any heat or meanness. It was just the way it was between her and Hunter. They teased constantly, but everything they said was out of fondness, out of friendship.
“I’m not sleeping with anyone I’m not in love with.” Ailis had always intended to be like her mother, who had been a virgin when she’d met and fell in love with Sky Mitchell, rock superstar. Ailis loved the romance of that and wanted to be the same. Devoted to the love of her life.
Then Ailis had given her virginity to the man she’d thought she was going to marry.
Six years of her life dedicated to Paul. And then he’d dumped her for Rhonda, leaving her in Baltimore with an equally jilted Hunter.
Ailis hadn’t expected to see Hunter again after he’d left her apartment that terrible night ten months earlier. She believed they’d both move on and their paths wouldn’t cross again.
Then he had appeared in the pub a month later. He’d ordered a beer. And then another. And then her shift ended and she’d joined him. They talked like old friends, war buddies, and they hadn’t stopped talking since.
“Dear God. I have no idea why love and sex are connected in your mind. Completely different creatures if you ask me.”
She was used to hearing that line too. “There’s nothing abnormal with wanting to fall in love and get married, Hunter.”
“What’s wrong with being single? I love my life these days. Kicking my own ass for hanging on to Rhonda for as long as I did.”
Hunter had sworn off long-term relationships after Rhonda left, and he’d decided bachelorhood was the life for him. Ailis suspected his bold proclamation was only fifty-percent truth. The other fifty was the part that wasn’t about to get hurt again, even if it did mean he had to die a lonely old man.
“I don’t want to be single. I want a house and kids.”
He sighed. He wanted the exact opposite. Hunter’s future plans included what Ailis had lived in her past. A tour bus. A different city every night. Paparazzi dogging his every step. Fame. Fortune.
And if Hunter got his wish, a million big-boobed, blonde groupies ready to act out every depraved sex act in the man’s repertoire night after night.
“You’re wasted in this pub, mouse.”
That was the one part of this argument she couldn’t win. Because he was right. She’d come home after the breakup to lick her wounds. She’d resigned her position at the firm with the intention of finding another job in marketing, but she hadn’t done that. Mainly because, when she’d majored in marketing in college, working in an office cubicle had never been her intention.
She had actually planned to take an internship with Les, her parents’ band manager. Then the marketing firm job offer had come right around the same time Paul got his residency at Hopkins. At the time, it had made sense for her to stay in Baltimore with him, to work on building a life with him here, one that didn’t involve a lot of travel.
Now, of course, she was completely adrift, jobless. She’d stuck with waitressing in the pub, burrowing in to soak up every bit of safety and security her family provided.
“I know,” she admitted. He wasn’t the only person to point it out to her. She heard it constantly. From him, her parents, her cousins. Even Pop Pop had pulled her aside a couple of weeks ago to ask her what her future career plans were. “I’m feeling very lost these days.”
“It’s just going to take us some time to get our sea legs back.”
She appreciated that he got where she was coming from, that he was riding this same emotional wave. Good days. Bad days. Just last month, she’d gotten one of his drunk, rambling, how-could-you-do-this-to-me texts to Rhonda. She had told Hunter she wouldn’t read them, but she hadn’t carried through with that promise. Mainly because hearing him speak the words she felt, the ones she couldn’t say to Paul, helped her, made her feel less lonely and fucked up.
“Come on,” Hunter said, standing, and then reaching down to pull her up as well. “Go upstairs and grab some cousins. We’re going out.”
She shook her head, but he waved his hand to cut off her complaint.
“We’re getting shitfaced, A. Drinking tequila, chasing it with Natty Boh and dancing our asses off.”
She crinkled her nose at his mention of National Bohemian beer. “I’ll drink the tequila, but you’re on your own with the beer.”
He laughed as he pointed to his instrument and amp. “I’ll load this stuff in the car while you rally the troops.”
As she climbed the stairs to her apartment, she tried to figure out how she’d been roped into a night out so easily. It was Hunter’s fault. Experience had proven it was easier to just go along with him. Resistance was futile.
“Hey, Ailis. How was your date?” Sunnie asked as soon as she entered the living room.
�
�It sucked. Hunter and I are heading downtown to go clubbing. Who’s in?” Ailis asked, completely unsurprised when Sunnie and Finn bounced up instantly. They both had their mother Riley’s love of adventure. There were very few parties the two of them willingly missed, and typically their only reason for saying no was illness or a hangover from the previous night’s party.
Colm shook his head, looking far too comfortable in the recliner with a beer in hand. “Long day at work. Count me out.”
“Where’s Caitlyn?” Ailis asked.
Colm chuckled. “Did happy hour at her folks’ house with her mom. Sounds like she and Aunt Keira went in for a second bottle of wine, giggling their heads off when she called earlier. She’s crashing there tonight.”
Her oldest cousin, Caitlyn had moved back home about the same time as Ailis after suffering a painful breakup with her own cheating ex, Sammy. It was a freaking epidemic. And while Ailis would never wish unhappiness on any of her cousins, having Caitlyn move in to share a room with her had helped so much. Between her cousin and Hunter, Ailis hadn’t felt nearly as alone in her sadness.
Ailis blew out an exasperated breath as she recalled their Friendsgiving celebration last week. It had been a far cry from the previous year, when she and Hunter had spent the same type of celebration with Paul and Rhonda and a much different crowd. Paul’s friends were typically residents at the hospital who were only capable of discussing work, and Rhonda had included half a dozen people from their marketing firm, whom Ailis didn’t consider friends as much as colleagues. As such, the celebration—with the exception of Hunter’s proposal—had been fairly boring.
It felt as if she’d gotten it right this year. She’d spent it right here with her cousins, Hunter and a few other close friends. She and Hunter had made a pact that they would be grateful for their blessings, stop focusing on the negative, and turn things around. He was going to stop spinning his wheels as far as his music career was concerned, and she was going to find a real job and date more often.
One week in and she hadn’t even bothered to open her resume on the computer to clean it up. And all she had found was Ray, the most boring man on the planet.
“Padraig and Yvonne are working until close, so it looks like it’s just us,” Sunnie said as she rushed down the hallway toward her bedroom. “Let me change into something more hootchie and call Leo. Maybe he’ll want to meet us downtown.”
Ailis sank down on the couch to wait for her with Finn and Colm. They discussed the cold weather, what to buy Pop Pop for Christmas, and which club would be the best to hit. Hunter arrived upstairs at the same time Sunnie returned to the living room.
“You all ready?” Hunter asked.
Sunnie nodded. “I told Leo I’d text him once we decided where we’re going.”
“Cool,” Hunter said. “I’ll leave my car here and we can cab it.” Hunter had his phone out, the app open and the ride requested before they hit the bottom of the stairs.
The trip to the club was fun and by the time they arrived, Ailis was laughing. Something she hadn’t anticipated after shaking Ray’s hand at the front door of the pub. Leave it to Hunter and her cousins to know how to cheer her up.
Hunter had actually been doing that a lot lately. Initially, in those early months, they’d kept each other going, a regular two-man band of brothers. They’d been in the trenches together, suffered the same pain. When she was down, he was there, picking her up. And when he had a rough night, she did the same for him. Those nights were growing fewer and farther between these days.
The music was thumping loudly when they arrived. Sunnie’s friend Leo was waiting for them at the door, and the five of them fought their way through the crowd in search of a table. Mercifully they found one near the back where the music wasn’t quite as deafening. The waitress took their orders—a round of tequila shots and five Coronas—and they settled in to watch the dancing.
At least, she and Hunter did. It was a physical impossibility for Sunnie to hear music and not move.
“Let’s dance!” she begged.
Hunter shook his head. “You go ahead. We’ll wait for the drinks. Meet you out there later.”
Sunnie dragged her brother and Leo out onto the floor, while Ailis looked around.
“I think Baltimore is getting smaller,” she said after a quick survey of the bar.
“What do you mean?”
“I used to be able to go out and not know anyone. I swear to God nowadays it’s the same people every weekend.”
Hunter leaned closer. “I think they all just look the same.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m telling you. We’re trapped in a single-person’s vortex. This is seventh-level-of-hell kind of stuff.”
“It was one bad date, Ailis.”
“I wish it had been. But the truth is it’s been four bad dates in six months.”
Hunter grinned. “You counted?”
“Of course I did. Besides, it’s not like four is that high a number.”
“I didn’t count.”
She rolled her eyes. “Probably because you can’t count that high.”
“Smart-ass.” Hunter ruffled her hair as she tried to beat his hand away with a giggle.
“I thought that was you two,” a male voice said.
Ailis and Hunter looked up at the same time and found themselves face-to-face with the exes.
They’d managed to avoid this for almost an entire year. Somehow, Ailis had let that fact lure her into a false sense of security. While it wasn’t unusual to hear news about Paul or Rhonda on occasion from shared acquaintances, she hadn’t had to face her foes until now.
Paul had texted her a few times after he’d first returned from Vegas with his new wife in tow, claiming he wanted the chance to explain his actions in person. She’d ignored every single one of them and eventually blocked his number. She told herself it was because she didn’t feel generous enough to listen to his apology, to give him the opportunity to try to make amends. After all, the time for chatting was before he’d left town. Not after.
Rhonda, however, had remained a coward, never once contacting her…or Hunter. No matter how many times he got wasted and texted her. And by “her,” Ailis meant herself.
So, in all fairness, Rhonda didn’t know how desperately Hunter had wanted to see her, talk to her. But Ailis did, and her disdain for her former best friend grew with every brokenhearted text until she couldn’t look at the woman as anything less than a complete fucking bitch.
“Paul,” Ailis said in surprise. “Rhonda.” She and Hunter had gone clubbing countless times and they’d never once run into Paul and Rhonda. She’d suspected that was why they kept doing it. Clubs were their safe zone.
“What are you guys doing here?” Hunter’s tone was too chilly to be mistaken for anything other than anger. Time hadn’t healed Hunter’s wounds. The man could hold a grudge like nobody. Not that she was faring much better.
Of course, Paul had never proposed to Ailis, claiming he needed to get his medical career sorted before he considered making that leap.
Hunter had proposed. And Rhonda had said yes. Then she’d left the ring he’d given her and a note on the coffee table and run off to say “I do” to someone else. Well, not just anybody else. Hunter’s best friend. So yeah, his anger was completely justified.
Rhonda stumbled a bit in the face of Hunter’s hostility, and Ailis tried to recall what it was that had made the woman someone she’d considered such a great friend. She was always just a bit too much, when Ailis thought about it. Always trying too hard to be the center of attention, talking too loud, wearing clothes that were super sexy, makeup that was too heavy and flipping her long blonde hair in a flirty way meant to attract men. And on top of that, she sure as hell wasn’t loyal or trustworthy. So why had Ailis hung out with her for so long? She could only assume it was the work thing and the similar circle of friends’ thing.
Rhonda glanced at Paul uncomfortably. “Um. We haven’t been out in
ages. We’ve both been so busy with work. Everyone really misses you there, Ailis.”
Ailis didn’t reply. She merely nodded.
“We thought we’d take this last chance to get out and dance before…” Paul said.
“Before?” Ailis said, immediately kicking herself for taking his bait so easily.
“Rhonda is pregnant. Due in May. Probably the last time we’re going to get to go out for a while.”
Hunter remained stone-faced, silent, which was typically Ailis’s job. She didn’t have a clue how to respond to the bomb just dropped at their table, so she dug deep and threw out her biggest lie of the night. One word laced with so much insincerity it could sink a boat.
“Congratulations.”
Paul didn’t acknowledge her statement. He was looking too closely at her sitting next to Hunter. “I didn’t realize the two of you were friends.”
Ailis resisted the urge to finger comb the hair Hunter had just messed up. She tried to tell herself she didn’t care what he thought, but she wasn’t there yet. Especially not when Rhonda was standing there looking like a fashion model even though she was three months pregnant.
There was something about the way Paul looked at her, almost as if he pitied her, that hurt.
Then it pissed her off. After all, he was the bastard who’d stolen six years of her life then left her here—twenty-eight years old and club hopping, hoping to meet the real Mr. Right, since he’d turned out to be Mr. Wrong.
“Yeah, we’re friends. We hang out,” Ailis said, not sure how else to reply.
“But you two don’t have anything in common. You don’t even like each other,” Paul said, still speaking to Ailis as if she were a child he needed to protect from her own inexperience and naivety.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Hunter answered, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close.
Ailis was stunned when he followed that unexpected movement up with a kiss to her forehead that was definitely more than friendly.
