Troubles (Beekman Hills Book 1)

by K. C. Enders

  Maybe.

  The weekend passes in a blur of sleep and hours upon hours spent mixing drinks. Aidan left for a shoot and will be away for a few days. It’s built-in space. The space I usually crave to get my head on straight and in the right place. And I don’t want it. Sex changes everything, but I’m feeling like it’s a good change and I find myself wishing time away.

  Grades for Friday’s test won’t be posted until tonight, but I still feel really confident that I did well. Anything above a B and I’ll stick it out for the summer session. The bistro is slow and I settle in to study. Aidan is meeting me here for dinner and then, who knows. I know this is scary territory. I’ve opened my heart to him. I’ve let him in.

  Jenna pulls me out of my textbook. “Lis.” She nods toward the front window. “You waiting for someone?”

  “Who is Lissy waiting for?” It’s so slow in here tonight that Tony’s left the kitchen to his sous chef and is having dinner with Jenna. I don’t know if it counts as a date if you own the restaurant and cooked your own entrees, but that’s what they’re doing.

  I bring Tony another beer and look out the window watching Aidan cross the street toward the bistro. Toward me. “Who’s that?” Tony’s gaze going from me to the man who’s wiggled his way past my barriers. The man who takes days off from work to help me. The man who’s made me feel important.

  My smile spreads across my face, when he finally looks up and his eyes meet mine. I lean my body toward the window—feeling the pull to him—when his steps falter. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he stares at the screen for a beat. That same look he had last week washes over his features. The look like he’s holding things together, but just barely. His shoulders rise with tension as he stops and puts the phone to his ear. Closing his eyes, he pushes the air from his body like he can push whatever news he’s getting away with it.

  My stomach twisting, I slink into a chair at Jenna and Tony’s table and watch as Aidan pivots on his heel, turning back to cross the street. With nothing more than a small wave thrown my way, he disappears around the corner.

  AIDAN

  “Aidan, I’m…I’m pregnant.” Even knowing the words are coming doesn’t prepare me for the level of devastation in her voice. “I’m… I don’t know what to do.” Lorna’s words are nearly drowned out by her tears.

  “Lorna, love, shhh…it’s okay.” It’s okay. It’s good, really.

  Weaving through people, I make my way back to my car and lean up against the side, clinging to the hope that I can sort this quickly and get back to Lis.

  “It’s not, Aidan. I can’t do this alone. This was supposed to happen with Michael, not by myself. I’m all alone.” She’s sobbing, now. Unable to catch her breath, she hiccups through the miles and my heart breaks all over again.

  Resigning myself to the fact that I’m not spending my time with Lis tonight, I get in the car and head home, hoping the flat is empty or at least quiet. It might be time to think about getting my own place.

  “Lorna, you’re not alone. You’ve your parents and mine. You’ve family and people who love you within arm’s reach. And now—now you have a piece of Mick too. This is what you wanted. What you both hoped and prayed for. Shhh…you’re alright.” Hearing her devastation through the phone and not being there to make her a cup of tea, hold her hand while she cries, is so much harder than I thought it would be.

  We’d spent the two weeks from Michael’s diagnosis to his death in a shocked version of that. Holding on while letting go. I’d been scheduled to leave on assignment when he’d called and asked me to come over. The whole thing was unreal. Cancer sucks.

  “Lorna…Lorna,” Not sure she can even hear me through her tears, I call to her softly, trying to soothe her, trying to calm her. It’s late in Dublin. There’s a good possibility she’ll end up crying herself to sleep. And then what? Christ.

  I’d needed the space, distance, from his death to get over the shock. To grieve. But I’d not thought or planned for this. This may well be too much to talk through on the phone.

  Heading straight through the flat to the kitchen, I pause to stare out the window. The neighbor’s kids play in their garden. Heart heavy in my chest, I reach for a beer, opt for a whiskey, and go sit out on the deck. The warm humid air even feels sad wrapped around me.

  “Will you talk to me? I need you to talk to me, just like before, like we did a couple months ago. Teacht anois.” Come now.

  “…I miss him so much…” There. We’re making progress. “Aidan, what am I going to do?”

  “Lorna, you’re going to have a baby. A piece of Michael, a piece of his heart to hold close to you for the rest of your life. You don’t ever have to give him up, now.” Lord, don’t let that compound the sadness. “Tell me the good stuff. You’ve been to the doctor, yeah?”

  My hand goes to the back of my neck, squeezing as I wait for her to say yes. To let me know she’s at least done this—Christ, she’s got to be four? Five months along? I don’t know.

  “When are you due?”

  Lorna sighs. “November…the end of the month.” She sniffs, but her voice is starting to sound stronger. “I heard the baby’s heartbeat, and all I could think is that Michael should be with me. God, he’d be beside himself.”

  It feels like hours that we talk. About everything, about nothing, about my brother’s baby and how she’s going to be just fine. She needs to talk to both sets of grandparents—I can’t believe she’s not told them yet.

  “Lorna, you need to take care of yourself. Think about how excited they’ll be.”

  “I know. I think maybe…I wasn’t ready for the excitement part? I don’t want to be sad about such an amazing gift, but…it’s bittersweet, yeah? And I’m surrounded by him, but he’s not here. It’s…I don’t know. Maybe I need to move.”

  She is surrounded by him. I tried to help her clear some of his things away after the funeral, but it was too soon. I didn’t make it a week before leaving Dublin. Trying to run from the grief.

  “You need a holiday, maybe. Go shopping in London. Spend a few days at the beach. Visit a spa. Is that kind of thing okay for you to do?”

  Finally, she lets out a laugh. It’s small and sad, but it’s a move in the right direction. “Yeah. I can do those things. I just feel like I should save every penny—I don’t know. And alone? That kind of thing’s not fun alone, Aidan.”

  “Don’t worry about the money. I’ll send it to you. Take a girlfriend. Take one of our sisters—Christ, there’s enough of them to choose from.”

  We were both from big families, but Lorna and I had been close. Close in age, growing up together we were always running about. At their wedding, I was both the best man and the man of honor.

  The last of my whiskey slides down my throat as my thoughts turn to my niece or nephew. “Will you find out whether it’s a boy or a girl?”

  “I will. Next month, I think. You could…you could go with me? I miss you, Aidan. Are…are you coming home soon?”

  No. Maybe.

  Her question asks for answers that I can’t give her right now.

  “I don’t know. I’m doing well here. I’m settled.” Torn. I’m absolutely torn. I ran away from Dublin and now—now there’s a reason for me to stay here. “I’ll send you some money. Go somewhere—take care of you and we’ll talk soon, yeah?”

  Fucking hell.

  I log on to my bank account and send a good chunk of money to Lorna. Enough for a holiday and some extra to help ease the expense of setting up for a baby—or to help ease my conscience. I want to stay. I want to see what this is with Lisbeth. I want a chance at the happiness my brother and Lorna had—just no tragic ending.

  Jimmy eases out the door and joins me with the bottle of whiskey resting at his side. “Was that Lorna, then?” He pours a good measure for each of us. “She tell you, finally?”

  “She did.”

  The street light illuminates the amber liquid as I swirl it around my glass. Legs stretched out in fr
ont of me, I lean my head back against the side of the building and close my eyes. Jimmy lowers himself down next to me and waits. Patiently. He nods and sips his whiskey as I fill him in on all that Lorna and I talked about.

  “What are you goin’ to do?” He shifts his eyes from the faint smattering of stars barely visible above us to my face. Gaging where my head is. “Are you leaving? Goin’ back home?”

  The question sucks just as bad the second time I’m asked it tonight. “I don’t know.”

  Chapter 21

  Lis

  Gracyn is burrowed into the end of the couch with a glass of wine watching shit TV when I get home. “Hey. How’d it go today?”

  “Not yet. Give me a minute?” I go straight to my room and ditch my clothes for jammies. Wrapping my hair in the messiest of all buns, I make a beeline for the glasses and bring the rest of the open bottle of wine to the living room. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  “You get the grade on your test yet?” Gracyn peers at me over the top of her glass.

  “Nope. Hand me your laptop.” The look on Aidan’s face as he answered his phone earlier is replaced with the memories of ink marking his skin and the look in his eyes as he broke through my barriers. I log into my university account and take a big gulp of wine. “Ready?”

  “Yeah. Go.” Gracyn buzzes, almost as tense over my grades as she is over hers. “What do you need to stick with it this summer?” She’s practically bouncing with nerves.

  “Anything over a B, and I should be okay. I just…” Gracyn jumps and almost spills her wine when I screech. Almost. “I got an A—holy shit.” I bite my lip trying to suppress the huge smile that wants to take over my face. “G, I’m gonna make it. Oh my God, I’m gonna do this.” Eyes huge, I split the rest of the bottle between our glasses.

  “Yeah, you are. I never doubted you,” she says with all the sincerity in the world. I’m the one with all the doubts and fears of failure.

  I set her laptop on the coffee table and let out a huge sigh of relief, nestling myself into the arm of the couch and shoving my feet under the throw blanket she’s got wrapped around her.

  “And what about Aidan? Things are good there?”

  The first thing that pops into my mind is the call he got—the frustration and concern etched across his face. He hasn’t responded to my text, yet.

  “I think, yeah. I haven’t seen him since Friday, but yeah. He was incredible helping me…study?” I didn’t mean for that to come out as a question. “He takes care of me. Makes me feel like I’m a priority to him. I think my trust—my comfort?—is important to him.”

  I grab my phone from the table and send him another message before dropping my phone in my lap.

  “Yeah?” I know for sure that she’s concerned for me, but her questioning it makes my glass pause on my lips. “What’s the plan there? Is he staying, Lis? In the States? Or is he going back to Ireland?”

  I check my phone for a message I know isn’t there, lower my glass, my gaze falling to the loose thread in the blanket.

  “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about that. It’s been all about me—my needs—my…”

  “Don't you think you should find out—before it’s too late?”

  Deep breath in, I tilt my head back against the side of the couch.

  “Lis?”

  The air rushes out of my lungs. Thoughts are racing through my head. Pinging around inside my brain. “This is just a distraction, remember? It was your idea,” I whisper.

  “I…just don’t want you to get hurt. Talk to him. Don’t set yourself up for heartache again.”

  My eyes drop from the ceiling meeting hers in an intense stare.

  Gracyn raises her hand, palm out while she rationalizes. “Not that I think for a minute he’s going to go fuck Maryse behind your back, but what’s he doing here? Where is his head? You need to talk to him. Soon.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Not much about tonight’s sitting well with me. “What about you, G? You gonna sit there and tell me I need to protect my heart, when…”

  She cuts me off with a snort. “Dude, really? I’ve got your fucking back—I’m just looking out for you.”

  “When you’ve been off since spring break, Gracyn.” Not good. I don’t want to do this with her. I hate fighting. “What’s up with your shit?” Trading my wine glass for her laptop, I open Facebook and search her timeline.

  “What are you doing? Stop, Lis.” Her feet push at me and I have to grab at the computer to stop it from hitting the floor.

  “Look Gavin up, do a search. Have you looked for him at all?” The heat rolling off her glare is scorching. “I love you, and you know I appreciate you looking out for me, but what about you? For the love of God, G—what’s the deal? It’s been months and I still find you staring at his picture on your phone, but you won’t look for him? Contact him?” It’s totally ridiculous that I’m getting this pissed.

  Deflecting? Probably, yes.

  “What if he’s in the area? What if he’s thinking about you as much as you’re thinking about him?” She’s blinking way too fast for that to be anything other than tears she’s fighting. “Gracyn. What’s the name of his band?”

  “The UnBroken.” She practically whispers it. “But I don’t want to know. The timing’s bad.”

  “The timing is only bad because you won’t let it be anything else. I care about you too, you know. And you’ve been moping for months.” There are a ton of posts on Facebook for the band—they’re tagged all over Instagram—all over. “G, they were just here last week. They were the band that played the college summer series. Did you know?” She refuses to make eye contact with me. She absolutely knew. “You knew he was here and you took all my hours last week.”

  “You needed the time off to study. This class is important to you.” I don’t know what to even say to that.

  “Don’t you dare twist this and make it about me. You know someone else could’ve worked the bar. Using me as an excuse makes you sound like my mom—and you don’t want that—I know you don’t.” My mother has been manipulating shit my entire life. Anything to make Maryse look good. “Gracyn, I love you, but that’s just wrong. I’m…I’m going to bed. I can’t…forget it.” The air in the apartment seems to have shifted. The tension is high and I’m pissed.

  Of all the fucking things to do, twisting my needs to suit her wants and fears is too much. And she knows it. She’s seen my mom pull that shit and Gracyn’s been the one to scrape me off the floor from the aftermath. Literally.

  Done with today. I’m done with it. The morning hasn’t improved my mood. The fight with my friend reminded me why I’m not good at accepting help. I never thought this shit would happen with Gracyn.

  Never.

  “Lis, I’m sorry, okay? What…what do I need to do? How can I apologize?” She knows. She fucking knows that she can’t twist things and use me as an excuse to get what she wants—or avoid what she thinks she doesn’t.

  I’ve got Gavin’s tour schedule saved to my phone. They come anywhere close to this area again and I’m dragging her ass to the show. That’ll help.

  “Dammit, Lis, stop. Just…I knew I would end up there if I didn’t have somewhere else I had to be.” Her voice drops and she slumps into a seat at the kitchen table. “I needed to work that night as much as you needed the time off.”

  “Why not talk to me, though? What the hell? I don’t understand.” I throw my hands up in the air, before letting them fall to my sides.

  “I know. I…you have so much going on and…listen to me, just for a minute.” Her fingers twist through her hair, frustration rolling off her in waves. “If anyone gets how important this class is for you, staying on schedule to graduate early, it’s me. I know. I get it—I’ve been with you through all of your family shit. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you he was here and that I needed to be busy. I just…I will. Okay? Next time, I will.” She finally raises her head and looks at me. “I just need some time.”

  “Gracy
n, you’re scaring me. Tell me what happened?”

  “Not yet. Not now, but I promise to tell you everything. Soon.” And with that, she leaves. No makeup, not put together. Just grabs her keys and leaves. Tears already streaming down her face.

  This is so not right. It seems like every time things start looking like they’re all going to line up and life is going to move forward without drama, something shakes loose. We’ll be okay. It just goes to show that disappointment is lurking.

  This is the most we’ve talked in weeks. We just haven’t crossed paths—which is odd. I can honestly say I’ve not been avoiding her. I really hate conflict and the shitty feelings that never seem to dissipate, and talking is the only way I know to make things better. But she’s been steering clear of me.

  I dump the rest of the coffee into my go-cup and grab my bags. I’m going straight from class to work today, like I have been for most of the summer, and then hopefully to Aidan’s.

  Things have been going really well, other than with my dear sweet friend, and it scares the shit out of me. I don’t want to think about the next thing to go wrong, but I feel like the snowball has started down the mountain.

  My knuckles barely land on the door, when it flies open and Aidan steps into me. He wraps his hands around my cheeks pulling me in close and kisses me like he hasn’t seen me in ages. I’m completely consumed by him as he kisses my breath away.

  He pulls back and with his lips ghosting over mine, he whispers, “Christ, I missed you. What are you doing to me?” Aidan’s forehead rests against mine as I breathe in the faint scent of stale beer, sweat and him.

  “Come in, then. I was just waiting to take a shower until you got here.”

  He scoops my bag off my shoulder and pulls me through the door.

  “Pretty presumptuous,” I laugh when he turns to look at me, cheeks flushed and brows pinned to his hairline.