by Scott, S. L.
“Yes, if you’d have let me.”
“Why then? What changed your mind?”
“You. That’s the truth.” I wish I wasn’t holding this beer so I could hold her tighter, feel the curve of her waist to her hip, and then slip my fingers under her shirt to feel the skin of her lower back. Images of that lower back before me as I fucked her and then turning her over so I could see her face . . . “I still want to see you.” The song comes to an end, and I don’t waste a second of the quiet. “I waited. For you, I’ve waited. I’m always fucking waiting.”
Turning around, she presses her back to my chest. “You shouldn’t.”
“I know every inch of your body, probably better than you. Let me get to know the rest of you.”
“Complicated—”
“I know. I know. Messy. I don’t care, though.” The left side of my mouth slides up. “I like messy.”
She laughs, and there’s a genuine sincerity this time. “You like getting messy between the sheets.”
“True. When it comes to you, I do. As for complicated, we can simplify things in time. What do you think about going from having an occasional meetup to dating exclusively?” It’s an offer I’ve thought about often but didn’t know it’d come out tonight. She makes me crazy and scrambles my thoughts.
Her head whips to the side, her mouth falling open . . . God, I love that mouth. “Hutton?”
“Ally.”
“You want to date exclusively, and I haven’t even been introduced to your friend.”
“You’ve met Gear.”
“Who’s the other one?” Her gaze goes from them back to me, and she says, “You look like you could be brothers.”
“We are. That’s Ethan. I want to introduce you to him.” I’m not sure what one thing has to do with the other, but I pick up the crumbs she’s setting down, trying to follow her train of thought. “But not meeting my family before we start dating can’t be the reason you’re holding back.”
“I’d like to meet him.” After taking another sip of her drink, some of the tension leaves her body, and she turns completely to face me, her arms maneuvering around my neck. I like when she gets possessive in public. With that sexy, sweet smile on her face, the one that attracted me to her the first time I saw her, she asks, “How long are you in town?”
“Tonight.”
“Then let’s make the most of it.” The pressure of her lips on mine is a quick reminder of the heat we’ve always shared.
I give in to her like I always do and kiss her back. I care about her. I can’t stop thinking about her and what she does when we’re not together, which is ninety percent of our lives.
I like the way she feels against me. I like the feelings she stirs inside. I like that hope seems to find its way through the dark nights we’ve spent together, letting me believe, if only for a short time, that we might be together come dawn.
When the audience starts clapping, Margie eyes me, and then asks her, “I’m heading home in a few songs. Are you staying?”
Ally smiles at me. “I am.”
“Are you sure?” she follows up, seeming to understand more about where Ally stands with me than I do.
Confident in her answer, she tightens her smile, and replies, “Absolutely.”
“Okay then.” I’m tapped on the shoulder, Margie’s ash-gray eyes home in on me. “Take care of her.”
“I will.” I stand firm in my stance and response. I like that Margie cares about her, but I’m not the enemy she’s made me out to be.
She then raises her eyebrow at me as if to say, really?
“Scout’s honor.” Even though I was never a boy scout. My retort earns me a smirk before she turns to Ally. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
They give each other a hug and say their goodbyes. When Ally turns to me, I say, “Margie doesn’t like me.”
“She doesn’t have anything against you. She just doesn’t like some of my choices.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “Like me.”
“Stop it.” Playfully patting my chest, she still smiles, amused by the conversation, or maybe I make her happy. “It’s me, not you. That sounds like a cliché, but it’s true.”
“She knows about us?” Is that a good thing?
“I’ve told her how I feel.” I just wish I knew exactly what that meant. Does Margie think I’m truly a menace to Ally? I want to know what this girl thinks. I want Ally to believe we could actually be more.
“You know, I’d love for you to clue me in, sweetheart. After all, I’m smitten, remember?”
There’s that sigh mixed with a smile again as she rolls her head to the side. “Hut—”
“Shhh. Not now, beautiful.” Time for a redirect. “Let’s go brave my brother. He’s had a few beers, so I take no responsibility for what comes out of his mouth.”
“Meeting your brother, hey? That feels pretty big.”
“I know firsthand that you can handle big.” I wink.
Her laughter fills the air, the building depth of conversation having been put off a little longer. The mood lightens between us. “I meant a big step.”
“Why take any if they’re not big and moving in the right direction?” As I lead her by the hand, we cut through the audience watching the band. When we reach my brother and Gear, I pull Ally from behind so she’s front and center.
When the song ends, the band announces an equipment check, so I take advantage of the quick break. “This is Ally Edwards. Ally, this is my brother, Ethan, and my friend, Gear.”
She shakes their hands and then glances back and forth between Ethan and me. “You and your brother look a lot alike.”
“Strong genes,” I reply.
“Genes of Everest proportions.” She laughs with a little snort, punctuating the bad but completely adorable joke. “You have another brother, too, right? Mount?”
I’m not sure how much she’s had to drink, but the alcohol has apparently kicked in. The guys are amused. It’s not the first time we’ve heard mount or climb in reference to us. Ally, a little loose from alcohol, is a bit of a spitfire. Carefree. Fewer inhibitions. And for the most part, we’ve always kept things fairly fun and easy, never getting too deep, as if the risk was too high. So why am I so intent on risking that now?
“Yes. Bennett.”
Peeking up at me, she says, “I can only imagine the trouble the three of you were in high school.”
“And college,” I reply, laughing. “But we don’t need to talk about that.”
Orrrr we can . . . To Ethan, she says, “I bet you have some good stories about Hutton.”
Ethan chuckles but is smart enough not to get into that. “Too many to tell.”
“I can imagine,” she replies as if she’s in on the joke. Her independence was something else that caught my attention the first night we met. She doesn’t need a warm-up. She’s comfortable talking to anyone, and it’s as if she’s known them her whole life. Welcoming. Kind. Funny. She continues to talk to him. “Let me ask you something. Was he always such a ladies’ man?”
Glancing back and forth between us, he takes a swig of beer. “I’m pretty sure that anything I say will be used against him, so we’ll go with, he was very popular in school with the ladies. Their boyfriends, though? Not so much.”
It’s only a light punch to the shoulder, but I was tempted to do more, like when we were growing up. I’m pretty certain I owe my brothers a few real punches from all the years of annoying sibling fights I endured.
Ally’s eyes go wide. “They had boyfriends?”
I’d love to avoid this conversation because clearly, I’ve matured since then. I almost laugh at my thought. I answer instead, “Only a few—the head cheerleader, the homecoming queen, that cute girl who worked at Subway, and . . . okay, more than a few had boyfriends, but I can’t help that they stepped out on their relationships.”
Fisting my shirt, she pulls me close. “God, you’re just the kind of trouble I used to look for.” She practica
lly purrs as she sinks against me. “You are so not innocent. I find that so hot.”
What the? Who is this girl? This possessive, touchy—greedy—girl. I like this side of her. A lot.
3
Hutton
The music kicks in again, and Ethan and Gear finish off another pitcher while Ally sips her drink. By the end of the set, I tell my brother, “We’ll be right back.”
Holding tight to Ally’s hand, I make it clear I want her with me. Hopefully, she wants the same. By how tight she holds on to me, I’m thinking she does. I really like this change, both of us showing how we feel instead of the usual guessing game.
People start clearing out, so it’s easier to reach the stage. “Hey, Jet,” I call out. I met Jet Crow in college. I was a senior, but this freshman punk ass was hitting on a girl I dated briefly back then. We settled the score in a parking lot, but I gave him props for holding his own. We never had classes together, but I dug going to his shows. We’ve been friends ever since.
Since I moved to Houston, I don’t get to see him much. When he looks up with an amp cord in his hands, he says, “Well, look who came back to our old stomping grounds.” Walking closer, he hops down. “Good to see you, fucker.”
The band is still struggling to break out. They’ve had some local success, enough to pay the bills, but nothing to retire on. It hurts my financial soul.
Jet’s always been cool, but his youngest brother reminds me of Bennett and is a pain in the ass. If there’s a good kind of pains in the asses. He’s funny, no doubt. Tulsa eyes up Ally. His dirty thoughts about my girl are written all over his face. He lowers his voice and holds out his hand. “Tulsa Crow, guitarist and vocals. And whom might you be?”
“Fuck off,” I tease, feeling possessive and stepping closer to Ally. She’s with me. I don’t have to say that to him, but the thought crosses my mind. Jet outgrew his angst, though he’s still not settled down. Rivers is still recovering from some bad breakup, but Tulsa wears a smile no matter what life throws at him. The three of them don’t date, but don’t have any trouble hooking up either.
They honor the bro code, though, so the only logical deduction I can make of my reaction is because of who they’re meeting. “This is Ally Edwards.” Bothered by feeling this way, I flex my fingers before wrapping them around her waist again.
She used to be softer, her face a little fuller, her hipbone less obvious. It’s been almost two months since we’ve seen each other. Something’s going on with her. We don’t confess our feelings, not the real ones, but maybe, like our behavior this time, she’ll open up to me and talk about what’s gone wrong since we last saw each other.
When she didn’t come to Houston like we planned, I tried to move on. Tried. Figured since she was a no-show and then never returned my calls or texts, she wanted nothing to do with me.
But here I am, in Austin after one of our coded text conversations.
Her: I’m sorry.
Me: Me too.
Her: You have nothing to be sorry for.
Me: I’m sorry you stood me up.
Her: Yes. I regret it every day.
I liked her . . . I still do.
Me: Saturday
It took her two hours to reply, but when she did, I started breathing a little easier.
Her: 4th Street?
She knew to look up where the band was playing. I’d seen my friend’s band play a thousand times but still supported them when I could. If I’m in town, I go out.
More details weren’t shared. She liked the mystery, the intrigue, and finding me. She liked pretending we didn’t know each other, at first anyway. She loved to flirt but never with another man.
My chest tightens just holding her, and I swallow harder. My throat thickens with all the questions I want to ask her, more than just to be mine.
We’ve gotten by with courtesies and compliments, surface conversations that never strayed too far into deeper waters, but tonight is different. A hurricane of truths is brewing. I can sense it. I can feel it. I can see it in her eyes.
“Good to meet ya, Ally Edwards. So you’re with this guy?”
“Save it, Crow,” I say, laughing.
Her head leans against my arm, her hand flattening across my stomach, and she nods. “I am.”
“That’s cool. He’s a good guy.”
“He is,” she adds.
To me, Tulsa asks, “You guys hanging out a while or heading out?”
“We’ll hang out for a drink or two. Can I get you a beer?”
“Grab a pitcher at the bar for my brothers and me. Tell the bartender to put it on our tab and add a round for you guys.” He goes back to clearing the equipment off stage.
Ally’s hand slides down my arm and into mine. Our fingers fall together, entwining. Tonight is definitely different. Everything’s not about getting out of here to have sex. There’s an intimacy we’ve never shared in public before. “You doing okay?”
“I’m good.” I detect sadness in her tone, matching something in her eyes. She’s missing the light that used to shine from within. Is that the tradeoff? The shine, her happiness, in exchange for this closeness? How does that work when this closeness is what makes me happy?
It’s a lot of heavy. I need a drink. Leading her to the bar, I ask, “Do you want another?”
“No.”
I’m about to order something for me, but my gut tells me I should stay sober. I grab two pitchers for the guys, though. We sit at a table Gear and Ethan nabbed once the place cleared out.
When the guys from the band come over, we shuffle our chairs to fit the extras for Jet, Rivers, and Tulsa. I’ve met them plenty of times, but the others haven’t, so I do the introductions and pour the drinks. “Great show.”
Jet’s not moody, but he carries the weight of responsibility that older brothers seem to have. I relate. Jet says, “Thanks. We’ve been working out a few songs.” Looking at Rivers, he adds, “I think the crowd liked them.”
“Yeah, it was a good audience,” Rivers says. “They didn’t even notice when Tulsa screwed up the chorus.”
Tulsa chimes in quick, “Hey. Hey. I can’t help it when there’s a little honey in hot pink distracting me from the front row.”
Jet rolls his eyes. “Try harder next time.”
Ethan says, “Hutton’s tried to get me out to a show for a few years now. Glad I caught your concert tonight.”
Rivers leans back. “It’s good to finally meet you. Hutton’s not all bad,” he says, chuckling. “Where are you living? Houston?”
“New York. I started a new company last year after settling up north. I don’t get back to Texas much anymore.”
They keep talking, but I notice Ally looking down at her phone. Leaning over, I ask, “Everything all right?”
“Fine. I just . . .” She looks at me as her hand slides onto my thigh. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too, but why do I get the feeling I’m missing something?”
She lifts and kisses my neck. With her lips on me, she whispers, “I want to be alone with you, Hut.”
Rubbing her thigh, I turn and kiss her mouth. That craving she stirs deep inside me is aroused. “We can leave.” I stand. “We’re cruising out.” I shake their hands and then Gear’s. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, just text me. Not before noon, dude, or I’ll hurt you something fierce. We’ll leave for Houston around two.”
Ethan says, “I leave at noon. Text me when you’re up, and we can grab something to eat before I fly out.” I want to crack a joke about him having a flight schedule when he owns the damn jet, but I don’t. He’s outgoing in many ways, but when it comes to his money, he likes to keep things low-key.
“I’ll text you.”
As soon as Ally and I are out the door, she shivers and leans against me while the wind whips around us. “Where are you staying?” she asks, huddling closer.
“Omni. You don’t want to go to your place?”
“No.”
I notice that she looks away when she answers.
We always go to hers. She has a downtown condo overlooking Lady Bird Lake. “What’s going on?”
“I’m cold, Hutton. Can we go?” I try to catch her eyes, but she walks toward the corner before I have a chance. As if she wills herself not to look back at me, she says, “We can walk if you want.”
Hurricane . . . “Okay.” I pick up my pace until we’re side by side walking north. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I keep it light. Weather is always a good non-confrontational topic. “It’s gotten cold. You sure?”
“Yeah, walk faster.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
The winds of her emotions are picking up as well. We cover two blocks before I get tired of the silence. Quiet is not usually an issue between us like it has been tonight. “What’s going on with you?”
“What do you mean? I’m just walking.”
“I mean all night. You’re quiet, more reserved. Then hot, cold, handsy. Not that I’m complaining about the handsy part, princess.”
“Princess?” she snaps. “Why do you call me that?”
Shrugging, I reply, “I don’t know. Like sweetheart. It just came to me, but as for the emotions, you’re all over tonight. Almost like you’re ready to get tonight over and done with.”
Stopping, she appears wounded as if I hit a raw nerve. “I don’t mean to. I like my time with you. I wish we had more of it.”
“We can,” I reply, moving to her. “Surely, you can tell I want more with you.” Her long hair blows across her face, so I reach forward and slide it behind her ear.
“What do you want, Hutton?”
You.
What am I doing? Am I being impulsive? A year is a long time to be faithful to a person I’m not sure is committed to me. We don’t have rules of dating to abide by. We haven’t ever defined what this is between us. I just like it. Maybe I’m a fool for exposing my heart, but this feels like a last chance, so I’m taking it. “I meant what I said earlier. I want you in my life. Every day. I want you to think about us being together. Waking up. Going to bed. Eating dinner.” Smiling, I slip my hands around her waist. “Fucking. Making love. Spending our lives together.”
