by Brooks, Anna
All I need is some booze and music and pussy. I won’t be getting the last one because Kelly’s has one hard and fast rule, and that is you never bring a chick home that you meet here. Ever. The Kellys aren’t just our friends; they’re family.
And you don’t fuck over family. The last thing they need is some psycho chick causing issues. Plus, it makes this a place where we can go and just chill.
We’ve been coming here for so long it’s like we’re regulars even though our trips home are sporadic and oftentimes short. We usually do an acoustic show when we’re home and have one planned for the following week. Well, we did. But now that we don’t have a drummer, I don’t know what we’re going to do.
As I walk in, Meara’s head lifts, and she smiles bright behind pink lips. “Hey, you.” She leans over the bar top and kisses my cheek, her longer blond hair is tame for her style, but seeing as she’s a mom now, I guess she toned it down a little. “Hey, Gabe. Holy shit, it’s so good to see you.” That’s Meara. Happiest and most outgoing chick I’ve ever met in my life.
“You, too, babe.” I sit down and toss my cell on the bar top as I look around the fairly empty place. “Here alone?”
She shakes her head and expertly pours out a beer without me having to ask her, the huge rock on her finger reflecting the light from the neon sign behind the bar. “No. Lisa’s just taking a break before it gets swamped, and Nik’ll be here in about an hour.” That makes sense since Lisa is Nik’s, and the way he is, he won’t want her to be without him behind the bar. Especially not after what happened to her a couple of years ago.
I take the frosty mug and bring it to my mouth. “Thanks.”
She waves off my appreciation. “What’s with the long face?”
Behind the glass, I raise a brow. “What?”
“You look upset or something, and you really shouldn’t be. It’s Christmas, and you’re home. Life is good.”
Liam’s really lucky he nailed such a great woman, and not in the sexual way, though I could see how he’d want all that spice in his bed. Meara is as loyal as they come. Stood by him when shit got real and gave as good, if not better, than she got.
“I’m good, Meara.”
She rolls her eyes like she doesn’t believe me, and I hop off the stool, knowing if I stay, she won’t stop the inquisition. “I’m gonna go shoot pool. If your worse half gets here, let him know I’ll be up to kickin’ his ass in a game.”
“He should be here in a little over an hour, so I’ll let him know. Have fun.” She wiggles her fingers at me, and I wave dramatically back, making her laugh as I walk away.
The pub has a game room on the second floor, and it’s the sickest thing ever. Old-school video games and darts and pool. They even got a shuffleboard a couple of years ago.
I’m on my third game and third beer when I finally get my head out of my ass and text my sister.
I’ll take care of your cats.
She replies immediately. Don’t bother.
Don’t be a bitch. I said I’ll take care of them.
Don’t be a dick. I said don’t bother.
God, my sister has an attitude and a temper like no other woman I’ve ever met. But then again, so do I. I wish I could say this is the first time we’ve gone head to head, but sadly, it’s not even close to the only time. It is, however, the first time she told me to lose her number, and that shit doesn’t sit right with me.
She’s my sister, no matter what, and no matter how pissed I am at her, I’d never cut ties with her. And not just because she’s essentially the only family I get along with… for the most part. But because she’s always there when I need her. When nobody else gets me, she always understands and doesn’t make me feel like a loser.
You asked me to do it, so I’m doing it.
You’re not.
Gianna.
I wait for her reply, and she doesn’t disappoint. It’s fine. I don’t need you to. Seriously, forget I asked. Then a moment later, another one comes in. But don’t forget my number.
My lips tilt up, and I feel the chest tightness from earlier soften as it dissipates completely.
Never.
Just as I shove my phone back in my pocket, Liam shows up.
“Heard you were lookin’ for an ass whoopin’?”
We shake hands and pat each other on the back. “How are ya?”
I’ve known him almost my entire life, so when he smiles, and says, “Good, man,” I know he’s lying.
“You sure?”
He runs his hands through his hair and nods. “Yeah. It’s all good.”
Our very first performance as Reason to Ruin was at our eighth-grade graduation. When Lee left a few years ago—damn, a little over four—it was something we all knew was coming but didn’t want to happen. As much as we understood it, it sucked for us. Liam Anders was and is one of the best drummers of our generation. He brought so much to the band—with not only his music but also his lyrics—that in the time we’ve been without him, it’s been harder than anyone wants to admit. And now, it sucks even fuckin’ worse since his replacement, fucking Kolby Rappaport, left… or got kicked out, whichever way you want to look at it.
“I saw your post with Melody playing drums the other day.” I’m not surprised she’s better than any kid I’ve ever seen in my life.
The knowing look he gives me isn’t cocky, it’s proud. “She’s good, huh?”
“Dude. For a four-year-old? Are you kidding me?”
“I know. She’s perfect. Causing mayhem wherever she goes, but her mom is Meara, so I’m not surprised.” I ignore the stab of whatever the hell that was in my chest when I wondered if my kid would like to play the guitar, but because I don’t want kids, I have no clue where that shit came from. “She goes to this thing at the library where the librarian sings and reads stories, so whenever she comes home from that, she wants to play.”
“Cool.” I then nod toward the pool table. “Wanna rack?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
Over the next couple of hours, we play a few games. We’re joined by Mike a little later, and not surprisingly, Jamie doesn’t come. But I don’t blame him. A few members of Liam and Meara’s family show too; her brother Pierce and her cousin’s husband, Travis. We all play pool and shoot the shit like old times, and it’s exactly what I needed.
Cady
It’s dark outside, but I have every light in Gia’s apartment on even though I know it would help with my headache if it’s less bright. I’m curled in a ball with the heating pad on my stomach and a bottle of ibuprofen, a quart of blue Gatorade, a bag of oyster crackers, and a can of ginger ale on the coffee table.
Her black cat, Mario, sits at my feet, while the orange one, Peach, is curled and cuddled against the warmth coming from the heating pad. I’m the most comfortable I’ve been all day and can’t wait to fall asleep for the night because I know when I wake up, I’ll feel much better.
The TV is on, but so low I can barely hear it over the surprisingly loud purr of Peach. I’m actually grateful Gia is out of town because I am not good company right now. When she asked me if I could take care of her cats, of course I said yes.
I have no problem hanging out with her kitties, but what I wasn’t planning on was sleeping here. However, when she left this morning, they meowed at the door as if they knew they were going to be alone more than usual. I could hear them all the way from my apartment. Poor kitties.
So after I ate dinner, I went to her place with the intention of feeding them and then crawling in my bed for the night, praying that when I woke up, I’d feel better, which is usually the case.
Today is an unusually bad day. It’s bad every month, but this time is the worst. A sharp, stabbing pain slices through my stomach, and I clench my teeth, but that makes my headache worse.
I took four ibuprofen an hour ago on top of Midol, and it didn’t even help.
When I whimper, Peach jumps off the couch, and I actually miss the pressure she’s putting on the he
ating pad.
I think about leaving to go to my own bed where I can curl up with my body pillow that I sleep with because it’s the most comfortable thing ever. Plus, when I’m cramping and having my horrible monthly symptoms like right now, it helps that I can relieve the pressure on my lower back by hitching a leg over the top of it.
But I’ll feel bad if I leave the cats, and if I do try to go home, I’ll be worried they’ll be sad, and then I’ll probably hear them meowing, which means I’ll just end up back here anyway. So I’m stuck here. Whatever.
Knowing it’s not going to get better, I reach for the remote to turn up the volume on the TV. After flicking through the channels, I stop on the Hallmark Channel and get lost in a movie marathon.
I don’t care that the stories are predictable or that they’re all pretty much the same because I love them. Partly because some of them are books turned into movies, but mostly because I’m a sucker for all things romance. Fictional, of course.
It’s during a commercial when I just get back from the kitchen with the tub of ice cream that I brought over when it happens. I have the spoon with a heaping scoop of chocolate chunk in my mouth when I hear a key in the door.
Gia just left in the morning and won’t be home for at least two weeks, so I know it’s not her. A chill snakes its way down my spine that has nothing to do with ice cream and causes the hairs on my arms to stand up. The doorknob jiggles, and I stand from the couch, the cramp in my stomach making me whimper. If it wasn’t for that, the fear would cripple me.
I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I look around for a weapon. I’m in so much pain there’s no way I could defend myself, but still, I find anything I can use; a lamp, a book, a candle.
Luckily, I can see the door from where I am because when it swings open and Gabriel Hunter struts in, over six feet of trimmed muscle and tattoos, I fall on my ass. The soft couch cushions my fall, but the jostling movement makes everything hurt so badly that I let out a moan of intense pain.
My eyes never leave him, though, and at the noise, his head whips up, and he pushes the door closed. “What the fuck?”
I don’t say anything back, not because I don’t want to, but because it’s physically impossible, what with a spoon hanging out of my mouth and rendering me speechless.
He moseys closer, and I brace when his thick, dark eyebrows sink down, forming a V. The deep brown of his eyes seems somehow lighter than what I thought they’d be in person, and those beautiful irises dart down to my socks that go up to my knees with books all over them, up my bare thighs, past the tub of ice cream covering my chest, and finally land back on my flushed for more than one reason face.
Then I prepare myself because he looks pissed, and I don’t know what the hell is going on. “Who are you?”
I pull the spoon out of my mouth, sliding my tongue over the cold metal before I stab it into the quart of what could pass as soft serve at this point.
I swallow loudly. “Who are you?” I know who he is, of course. God, do I know who he is. But I don’t know why he’s in Gia’s apartment, which is what I really want to ask.
“I asked first.” He tosses his duffel on the floor next to the coffee table and crosses his tattooed arms.
From playing the guitar, I know those muscles in his forearms get worked and worked hard. And nothing is hotter than when they’re making beautiful music. It takes a lot of internal pep talking, but I manage to rip my eyes from his fantastic biceps.
He must get impatient because he tells me, “I’m Gianna’s brother.”
I know. “I’m her neighbor.”
He tilts his head, his eyes move down my body and back up, and then he licks his lips. His demeanor changes in the blink of an eye, and the look he gives me makes me melt. “Hi.”
Oh, God. I clear my throat. “Hi. Why are you here?”
“I’m taking care of her cats.”
I fight against the pounding in my head. “But she asked me. I’m taking care of her cats.”
“Funny, since I’m here.”
Not only am I not in the mood, but I want to be anywhere else in the world that’s not in the same room as him. The man I’ve crushed on since I was a teenager. The shock of seeing the guy I’ve dreamed about for years is the only thing keeping me from embarrassing myself. It’s going to wear off, and I’m sure I’ll say something idiotic. “I’ll just go home.” Then I stand. Fast… definitely too fast because the room spins and a barb shoots through my skull. The bucket of ice cream slips from my hand and plops to the floor, and I squeeze my eyes closed and fall back to the couch, whimpering as my ass hits the cushion. I double over from the cramp in my uterus.
“Whoa. Are you okay?” I don’t lift my head but hear him with concern in his voice and know he’s closer. I can smell the spiced, woodsy leather. God, this is embarrassing.
“Yeah.” I take a breath through my lips. “Just got dizzy.” When I stand, his fingers curl around my arm. The touch sears me, and I react so violently, I fall back down, trembling and breathless. Of all the ways I wanted Gabriel’s hands all over me, while I’m in the middle of some of the worst pain I’ve ever experienced is definitely not in the top one thousand ways I fantasized about.
“Hey, hey.” He crouches in front of me, and his calloused hands grab my thighs. His touch goes from searing to on fire, and I’m surprised I don’t see smoke. “Relax.”
I nod, sucking in air to mask the pain.
“Are you sick or something?”
There is no way I’m telling him that my uterus is torturing me before it kills me. “Or something.”
His eyes stay trained on me while reaching into his back pocket, pulling out his phone, then putting it to his ear. “Yeah, Gianna. Care to tell me why the fuck you ask me to watch your stupid cats, and I come here to do it and there’s already someone here? Yeah, she’s here. Who else did you ask, Jesus? I would, but despite what you think, I ain’t that much of a dick I’m gonna do that. Because she’s sick or something and looks like shit.” He winces and holds the phone away from his face. “No offense.”
“None taken.” I press my lips together.
He smiles without really smiling before he stands and lumbers into the kitchen. I can hear the murmurs of Gia’s voice coming through the receiver but can’t actually hear the words. “What-the fuck-ever, I told you I would. No, I can’t. I rented it out while you were gone and figured I’d just crash here. Yeah, it went that fast. It’s the week before Christmas, Gianna; there’s a damn waiting list.”
As he’s talking, I pick the ice cream up from the floor, thanking my lucky stars that it didn’t leak all over the place.
“Fuck no, I’m not going to Mom and Dad’s. Jamie sold his place, no way. Fine. Okay. Yeah, I know. You, too.” His voice gets softer. “Hold on.” He comes to me and holds out his phone. I stare at him. Then at his face, so close, so handsome. He nudges it at me. “She wants to talk to you.”
“Oh, right.” I take his phone, and when our fingers graze, our eyes connect at the contact. His pupils flare, and under the intensity, I swallow. Then I snap out of it when I hear Gia’s muffled voice and hold the phone to my ear. “Hey.” I look down at my feet and wish my hair wasn’t in a pony tail so it could cover my face.
“Are you sick?”
“Uh, kind of.”
“God, I’m so sorry. I got in a fight with him when I asked him to take care of my cats, and I thought he wasn’t going to. But Gabriel’s there now, so you can go home to your bed.”
I glance up from under my lashes at Gabriel, who’s stepped back and is now leaning on the wall with his legs crossed at the ankles, intently and unabashedly watching me. My heart gallops. “Yeah, he is. I will.”
“Okay, feel better. And if you need anything, just ask Gabriel. He’s kind of a jerk sometimes, but I know he’d help you out.”
The idea of asking him for anything freaks me out. “No, I won’t need to. I’ll be fine.” I’m trying to play it cool even though my
nerves have made me feel nauseous. My stomach is fluttering with anticipation that will never be fulfilled. A desire that will never fade. I can’t believe he’s standing in front of me.
The truth be told, it irritates me that the whole time I’ve known Gia, she never told me about her brother. I mean, he’s a guitarist for one of the hottest rock bands in the history of ever.
And I would know.
How do you not mention that at some point? He never got brought up in any way other than the rare mention of her having a brother.
In her defense, I’ve never told her who my dad was or that I have a stepbrother, so I really have no right to be upset with her. Since she never told me, I assumed she was hiding it for a reason, so I didn’t push.
“I hate that you’re sick and I’m not home, so before you go, get his number so you can call him if you need something.” Yeah, that’s not happening. “So sorry you had to waste your time at my place.”
“Gia, it’s not a waste of time. I love your cats. They’re sweet, and I’d hate for them to be alone, so it really is no problem.”
“You’re the best. Talk soon.”
With sweaty palms, I hang up, and I set the phone on the table. No way am I handing it back and risking touching him again. “I’m just going to go back to my place.”
He doesn’t move a muscle, except for the ones that controls his vision, because he’s studying me. I shrink into myself from his scrutiny and become paralyzed. “No, you’re not.”
“I… I’m not?”
“No. Not until you get better.”
I want to shake my head, but I know if I do, I’ll get dizzy. “I’m fine.”
“Woman, you got so dizzy you could barely even stand. I’ll just hang with you till I know you’re not gonna pass out. Then you can go home.”
Immediately, I reply, “I’m not gonna pass out.”
He tilts his head at the desperation in my voice, and his eyes soften. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“I… okay. I’m not really worried about that. It’s just, I don’t want to be in your space and—”
