“Isn’t therapy getting me to work through stuff? You shouldn’t force issues.” My dad puts a hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me but it doesn’t.
“Yes. And that’s what we will do. You have my word. I want you to release what you’re holding inside, even if it’s silently so we can start building a relationship with your dad and one day you can tell him.”
Makes sense. Still fucking sucks. “Okay.” I don’t know if I just spit another of my half-truths.
“I don’t want to eat here, Saylor. Just come to my house, and we’ll have dinner.” Deacon is standing in my living room. I’m shocked to see him; I’m working hard to make amends, but he’s the least receptive. With good reason.
“No. This won’t work, and things won’t get better if you don’t try.” Her hands rest on her hips, and she’s giving him no room to change her mind.
“Maybe I don’t want things to work. I love that you’re so forgiving. You were hurt the most out of all of us. Besides Julie. What she tried to do to our little girl . . . I don’t know if I can forgive her. I sure as hell don’t want to eat dinner with her.” His words hurt. His words are truthful.
I gasp, and they both turn to me, shocked I was in the room. “Shit,” Saylor mumbles. Deacon doesn’t apologize, look remorseful, nor should he.
“It’s fine.” I suck in a deep breath. “Deacon, what I did was fucked. I get it. I’m not asking you to get over it, and I don’t want you to discount your feelings or anger.” God, I sound like Dr. Ross. “Fuck it. You’re pissed. You should be. I’ll say sorry every day until you believe me.” I swipe a tear. My anger isn’t directed at him. I’m hurt. I’m pissed I did this to them. And the pain I caused kills me. “I’ll go out for dinner. Y’all enjoy dinner tonight.”
“No the fuck you won’t.” Saylor pushes from Deacon.
“Short stop,” he calls.
“No. You stay here. You,” she spins pointing her finger at Deacon, “go get Julie for dinner. You can leave her here and go or stay like a grown ass man and eat dinner. Choice is yours.” His mouth drops, I force myself to curb my snort. She’s always been saucy with Mason, but she is comfortable in her relationship with Deacon . . . and it shows.
“No.” I jump in. I refuse to cause an argument. “I’ll go. It’s fine. I need to study anyway.” I rush to my room to get my books together, so I won’t look like a liar, and when I get back to the living room Avery, Mason, and Caden have shown up.
“Hey, Lee Lee.” Avery smiles. She’s been trying to ease the tension with us.
Caden pulls me in for a hug, and Mason tugs my hair, kissing my temple. I hurt all of them; but I came close to obliterating Deacon. Saylor. Julie. “Don’t be late, Lee Lee.” Saylor calls. “Magic Mike starts at nine. I’ve got wine and ice cream.” She winks at me.
“You aren’t staying over?” Deacon sounds like he just lost a championship game.
“Nope. Your sleepover privileges are revoked— just like your man card.” Silence. Everyone is staring at them.
“What? Why?” Deacon’s stupefied, and Mason is crowing.
Saylor eyes Mason, flipping him off before she turns her attention back to Deacon. “Because you’re a bitch. That answers the termination to both.” She starts plating up whatever she’s cooked. I have the urge to flee, but I try one more time to make it right.
“Saylor, don’t punish him for my actions,” I plead.
“I’m not. All isn’t forgiven, but we’re all trying. Especially you. If he wants to be a toddler, he can play by himself. I have one child I love taking care of. I don’t want another.” She shoots him a pointed look.
“He doesn’t play well with others; we should get him a sandbox,” Mason quips.
Saylor laughs.
Deacon huffs.
Caden shrugs.
Avery smiles.
I leave.
Dipping my fry into my frosty, I’m lost in my head until a book slams down, rocking the table. Jerking my head up, I’m shocked to see Brody.
Embarrassed as well.
We didn’t part on the best terms. “Hi.” I smile at him.
“Is this seat taken?” I shake my head and move my feet so he can slide in the booth across from me. “How have you been?”
I chuckle. “Eh. Here.”
“That doesn’t sound promising.” He stares at me for a minute. “And that’s disgusting. Fries in your frosty.” He shudders and I giggle. God, I fucking giggle, and it feels good.
“It’s good. Have you tried it?”
“No. Let me guess you dip your fries in ranch, too?” I waggle my eyebrows, letting him know he’s correct. “Gross.”
“Don’t knock it. How have you been?”
“Busy.” I bet. He’s gorgeous. A real catch. “I’ve picked up a job while taking a full course load so it’s taken some getting used to.”
“Ah. It’s good to be busy.” I wish I were. Maybe I’ll get a job.
“Why you here by yourself?”
“Family dinner and it’s still sort of awkward.” I scrunch my nose.
He nods but doesn’t offer me anything. “If you want to talk— I’m here.” He had plenty to say to me last time we were in each other’s presence.
“I told them everything. Some shit went down with my dad,” he interrupts me.
“I know.”
“Yeah, I know. He mentioned your visit today in therapy.” Shit. I have the biggest mouth. He doesn’t react, so I continue. “I’ve apologized and I have been trying to make amends, but I hurt a lot of people, and it wasn’t like ‘I wore your favorite shirt and stained it with ketchup.’ It’s like ‘I cut your hair the eve of your wedding and shredded your dress’ kind of pissed.”
He chuckles at me. “You have a way with words. But, I’m proud of you.” His order number is called. “Do you mind if I eat with you?”
“No.” I smile. It feels comfortable.
“How are you adjusting to civilian life?” I quirk my lips up.
He shakes his head. “You know I wasn’t a lifer. I was a civilian before, now I am again.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“Don’t. I know you see stuff that sticks with you. It’s just you and me at this table.” I want to reach for his hand, but it isn’t my place.
“It’s been a while since we’ve talked like this. I’m not sure how to proceed after our last encounter.” His hurt evident— in his tone and face.
I close my eyes and clear my throat. “I’m sorry, Brody. I’m fucked up and shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess.”
His eyes lock on my face, and the tension leaves his body. “You want the truth?”
“Always.” A stab of guilt hits me at how easy he let me off the hook.
I notice the rigidity in her shoulders. Her apology wasn’t a surprise, but it’s welcome. I can’t call what she’s doing a transformation. The girl she was trying to be . . . wasn’t Emberlee. It’s like she was modeling a suit that didn’t fit her and tried to mold into that persona. Sure, she’s a girl who cares about her looks, her clothes— she can be superficial at times but her heart, it was pure gold. I knew if she dug enough she’d pull her head from her ass.
“It’s been sort of tough. I’m used to a schedule, being busy and so tired I drop in bed and sleep like a log.”
“Have you made any new friends?” I bite my lip. If she had a clue, I wonder if she’d be mad.
“Some. I have my classes and that is as regimented as I get. It’s just different. I miss the brotherhood. The knowledge someone had my back.” Shit. I don’t mean to burden her because I know she’s struggling in her own way.
“I wish I could help you.” Yeah, I know she could, but she isn’t there yet.
“Therapy, huh?” I don’t tease, but I want her to talk to me.
“I was hoping you missed that slip. I should’ve known.” She snickers. “Me and my dad. Weekly.” She acts likes she’s gagging pulling a laugh from me.
“How’s it going?” Fo
r her sake, I hope it’s what she needs.
“Honestly?” She stares at me.
“Always,” I mimic her.
“I know you’re kind of loyal to my dad.” She hesitates.
“I’m loyal to you.” I stare at her, hoping to convey how much she means to me.
“It’s weird. I can’t remember a time I didn’t crave his attention. Didn’t hanker for his love.” She looks down at the table. “Problem is, I allowed it to consume me. Turn me into someone I hate. I did things I can’t take back. I take responsibility for that, but I can’t help blaming him.” She exhales, her eyes shimmer. “I’m a mess. Part of me wants to tell him to go fuck himself, but the part that’s dreamed of his affection keeps fighting, hoping to get his acceptance.”
Fuck. How’d I miss how bad it was? I think I just figured I could be that for her. I wanted to be her everything, and I ended up being the demise of her. I lean across the table, “Listen to me. You do what makes you happy, and fuck what he thinks. I know you want a magic cure; you want this to be fixed. It’s gonna be work, and if you don’t have it in you, that’s okay. He has a lot to prove to you, and don’t feel guilty for making him. It’s the least he can do.” I want to scream at her, give me another chance and you won’t doubt your worth. You won’t have to beg for my love, I’ll give it willingly. But I don’t.
“Thanks.” She winks at me. We continue to talk, keeping to mundane topics. Until she turns the conversation to her friends. “God, I came close to killing them with my cooking. I’ve dyed all their underwear and jock straps pink. I was trying to help Saylor with laundry, and that was the wrong task. After they saw their shit pink, they tried so hard to ignore it.” She’s laughing at this, and I relax. “So I bought this dye shit, I was gonna make them all black so I couldn’t fuck it up again. Yeah, Avery just painted our basement walls, and I knocked the entire basin of black dye everywhere. The walls. The new floor.” I laugh with her, and she’s in tears. “Needless to say, domestic goddess isn’t an appropriate career choice. Which really sucks.”
“Why does that suck?” I realize I don’t know what she wants to do.
“Because that was my dream.” Her whisper hits me between my ribs. “All I’ve ever wanted was to be a mom. A wife. I know most females would shame me, scoff. Tell me I could be anything. But, that’s all I wanted.”
“So take a cooking class. Learn how to do laundry. Or don’t. Hire a housekeeper and order meals. That doesn’t take away from your ability to be a mom or wife.” My heart swells, picturing coming home every day to her, surrounded by our rug rats and a messy ass house. I’d wear pink underwear all day, every day for that dream.
“How do you think I could be a mom if I can’t wash clothes? I’d kill the kid.” She’s beating herself up. I could kill her dad because it all stems from him.
“Fuck that, Embe. You’ll be the best mom and wife. Erase that shit from your head. I’ve seen you take care of your friends.” Her lips twist. “Maybe not recently, but you put everyone’s needs above yours— even if you try to hide it. I’ve seen it. I’ve been lucky enough to experience your love, and believe me— it’s gotten me through many nights.”
Her mouth turns up. “Thank you.” The sincere tone in her voice warms me and makes me want to hear it every day.
“So I’ve taken to buying gift cards, or just talking and trying to be what they need. Hence why I’m at Wendy’s for dinner.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What?”
“Tonight is family dinner. We try to do once a week dinners since we started school here. I’ve been excluded for a while with reason. Saylor wanted me there. Deacon didn’t. He hasn’t been as forgiving as others . . . with reason. I didn’t just hurt him and Saylor. I had the potential to ruin a good thing for Julie. I didn’t want them fighting, so I came here.” Her eyes downcast, the shame she carries is enough.
Fuck that. I get she fucked up. She knows she did them dirty. She’s admitted it. She’s owning up to her mistakes. This one thing doesn’t discount all the years she’s been loyal. Been their rock. They’ve got history you can’t erase. A fucking real man would accept that and move on. I get being guarded, but you don’t have to be a dick. “Fuck him.”
She tilts her head. “Brody, I brought this on myself. He has the right to be angry.”
“No he doesn’t, babe. Yeah, you messed up. You admitted it. You’ve done everything but crawl across broken glass to say you’re sorry. He needs to man the fuck up and realize no permanent damage was done. How are the others treating you?’
“According to Mason, Deacon can’t man up.” She rolls her eyes. “Mason took his man card when he fell for Saylor. She said jump and he asked how high. It’s sweet.” She’s smiling. “Caden is Caden. He is my gentle giant. Nothing is changed with us. I said I was sorry, and he accepted it. Avery— things aren’t the same, but we’re working to fix it. I was horrible and she is sensitive. She feels things deeply, and I knew that. I used that weakness and dug in the knife. Mason,” she snorts. “It’s different. I know he’s trying, but Mace and I have always had a different connection.” I cough and ball my fists. “Yes, we had sex. That’s all it was. We’ve just connected on a different level. He was the one I let see the pain back then. So, we’re trying to find a new level. With everything we’ve been through, everything he drug out of me— I think it hurts him I didn’t turn to him instead of against him. He’s a big baby.”
“So are y’all . . .” I leave that question hanging, not capable of forming the words.
“No, we aren’t. We won’t again. It would be for the wrong reasons this time. It was when we started it if you want the truth, but it became our normal.” I nod, and suddenly my appetite disappears. “Saylor is being great. I know it’s hard for her because we don’t have the history like I have with the others, but she’s trying. Which is more than I deserve.”
“You deserve the world, Emberlee. I can’t wait for you to realize it.” She shakes her head at me. “Can I call you sometime?” I sound like a pussy, but having this back in my life is something I can’t let slip through my fingers.
“One condition,” she challenges me.
“Shoot.” I tease back.
“Eat a fry dipped in frosty.” I groan. She purses her lips, waiting to see if I’ll do it.
I grab a fry and dip it in her frosty. Fucking disgusting. “Mmmmm.” I moan as I force myself to swallow that soggy ass concoction.
Her eyes light up, mistaking my moan for pleasure. “Good isn’t it?”
I’m going to hell. “Hell yes.” I grab a few more and dip them and choke them down with fake enthusiasm. Mason may be taking my man card because the smile stretching her cheeks makes me want to order stock in this shit and eat it with her— for a lifetime.
“Shit. I didn’t realize the time.” She picks up her purse.
“Hot date?” Please say no.
“Yep.” Shit. “With Avery and Saylor and HBO.” She smiles. As she stands, she walks to my side of the booth and bends, kissing my cheek. “Don’t forget you owe me a phone call.” She sashays off, and I’m staring at her ass adjusting myself.
I’m in the gym working the guys through training. We’ve come up with a good routine, and they are excelling in stamina and wins. “Douglas. That all you got?” I shout, drawing his attention. It’s clear by his ‘what the fuck’ expression he doesn’t know why I’m shouting at him. “My grandmother had more strength than you’re giving me.” Sneers echo the gym, and I can tell I’ve pissed him off. Good, feeling’s mutual. I’m having them do plyo push-ups and they’re a bitch. Start in plank position and power up off the ground, clapping once before landing. “Okay, guys. Next exercise. Except for Douglas. Give me four additional reps to make up what you fucked up.” That fucker’s gonna be so tired today he won’t be able to give Emberlee shit.
His brows draw tight, and he keeps his mouth shut. I watch him do the reps and join the guys at the next station. I work him like this at each one, rib
bing him, and he wants to be pissed but that takes energy. Something he doesn’t have extra of. They’re almost done. “Douglas, you seem to be lagging today. I noticed your stamina down at the last game.”
I cross my arms, daring him to challenge me. “Saylor said your stamina was down. I only heard like four ‘Oh Gods’ last night.” Mason busts his balls, and I want to laugh. But getting payback for the way he’s treating my girl is more satisfying.
“That sucks,” I deadpan. “Come back after practice, and I’ll have something to help you.”
Two hours later, he drags his ass in the gym and looks like he’s gonna collapse. “Grab those dumbbells. Lock your shoulders and walk in lunges until you can’t hold on anymore.” He eyes me, and I feel a twinge of guilt. He does have a kid to take care of. Then I remember the sadness and shame Emberlee portrayed the other night. “I don’t have all day.” I go back to the paperwork and act disinterested. He makes it seven steps, which is impressive after all I’ve put him through, plus practice.
“We’re gonna be here all night. Ten steps minimum. Seven times.”
He huffs and narrows his eyes. Picks up the dumbbells. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Drops and shrugs. Picks them up and gets twenty. Well, fuck me he’s got grit. After the last rep, he turns. “You done?”
“Yep. Are you?” His head jerks back. “Quit being a dick to Emberlee. I know she did you wrong, but it doesn’t discount all the things she’s done right.”
“Fuck.” He spits. “Now you’re gonna fight her battles?” His tone pisses me off.
“No, but I will continue showing you what a dick you’re being. Doesn’t feel good for someone to kick you when you’re down. Need to do some more reps?” He shakes his head. “I get it. She fucked up. She’s sorry. And you know as well as I do she’s a good person. That’s why it’s so hard for you because you care for her and you know her.”
“I was blindsided,” he admits. “I almost lost Saylor.”
“But you didn’t. And Emberlee didn’t have to admit that. I’m not saying forgive her tonight but quit giving her a hard time. Remember the girl you grew up with. Remember she has her own shit going on— and it’s a lot worse than the few months of hell you had. She’s had her whole life of that shit.”
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