Caught Up in You (7 page)

We had found a common ground.

It actually felt kind of good.

Lia was crying now, begging her sister for forgiveness. Alex was having none of it. Not that I expected anything different. Insults were thrown, comparisons were made, and then Alex broke free from our grasp and stalked toward the door.

Lia collapsed in Grayson’s arms, sobbing. Danika beckoned me to follow her into the kitchen, giving them space.

Once we were out of the room, Danika whirled on me, backing me up against the door of the walk-in refrigerator.

“You know, I don’t get you.”

I blinked, surprised by her bluntness. “Um, I don’t even
know
you.”

“You love her.” She said it like it was an accusation. She may as well have said, “you shot him, you son of a bitch.”

I laughed and shook my head, trying to move away but she put an arm on either side of my shoulders, trapping me between them.

My eyebrows rose flirtatiously. “Oh. So that’s how you want it, huh?”

She shot me a look of disgust. “Cut the crap. I know you’re in love with her. I can see it.”

“Alex is crazy.”

It was a weak, spineless cop out and she didn’t buy it for a second.

Danika’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not talking about Alex.”

“Then I don’t know
what
you’re talking about,” I said. I was no longer able to keep the lightness in my tone. And it was starting to show.

“If you love her,” she challenged. “Why on earth would you sleep with her sister?”

The question hung in the air like stale smoke, threatening to make me cough. I tried to look away but Danika pinned me with a glare. She wasn’t going to let me go without giving her an answer.

Well, fuck her.

I didn’t owe her anything.

I didn’t owe
anyone
anything.

“It’s none of your Goddamn business.” I violently pushed her arm away and stormed off toward the back door. I shoved it open with my shoulder and let it slam closed behind me.

It wasn’t until I was alone in my car that I actually answered her question. Because the one person I did owe an answer to was myself.

I sighed and jammed the back of my head against the headrest.

“Because I knew she’d never love me back,” I whispered.

But there was no one around to hear it.

Fourteen

I went back to work. I didn’t even have a shift but I didn’t know where else to go. I couldn’t go home. I didn’t want to drive around aimlessly. So I went to Hank’s. I sat in the booth that Lia and I sat in that first night I took her here. When something almost happened between us.

Who am I kidding, though?

Nothing would have happened.

Even if I had managed to get her back to my apartment and get her naked, that would have been it.

Because Lia would never see me as anything more than just a player. And maybe that was because I was never meant to be anything more than that.

I certainly was no Grayson Walker. I had to hand it to that guy. Anyone willing to put up with that much sister drama, was a better guy than me.

I was definitely not cut out for that shit.

Vee kept my drink refreshed and my ego stroked as she continued to cast flirtatious glances at me whenever she walked by. I knew I could have had her if I wanted. I knew all I had to do was say the word and she would be in my bed tonight.

But what I didn’t know is if that’s what I wanted.

I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted anymore.

The jingle of the front door didn’t snag my attention. But the hand on my arm a moment later did.

My eyes widened when I looked up to see Alex Smart literally dragging me out of my seat and into the men’s room at the back of the bar.

“What the fuck, Alex?” I asked but she didn’t respond.

She flipped the lock behind her and dove for my belt buckle.

Before I could process what was happening, my pants were undone and being tugged down around my ankles. Alex pushed me up against the countertop. I felt the cold marble cut into my bare ass as she sunk to her knees and started to swirl her tongue around my cock like she was trying to keep an ice cream cone from dripping on a hot day.

“Alex,” I tried to say, “This is insane. You just...”

But she launched to her feet and shut me up with a kiss, shoving her tongue deep down my throat until I started to gag.

“Shut up,” she said as she pulled away and lifted her dress up to her waist, “and fuck me.”

She turned around and bent at the waist, holding onto the stall door and shoving her ass at me. She was not wearing any underwear. 

I stared down at her. I could see the swelling, the wetness, the tempting promise of another earth shattering orgasm. All the blood had flooded between my legs, leaving my brain to fend for itself with no fuel and no back up.

My hands shook as I reached out and placed them on her slender, delicate hips. My stomach twisted and tightened as I pulled her body toward me, lining her up just right.

I knew exactly what this was about. And it wasn’t me.

It was about Grayson. It was about Lia. It was about Alex’s desperate need to feel wanted. All the time.

“Yes,” she egged me on, shaking her beautiful pussy at me. “Do it. Fuck me hard. Shove it all the way in.”

My fingers tangled in the fabric of her dress, gripping the material until my knuckles turned white.

Her body was so gorgeous. Her delicious inside was calling to me. I was throbbing for her.

“What the hell are you waiting for?” She backed further into me and I could feel her on me. The moistness. The warmth. My groin exploded with fire. “Fuck me, Blake. Do it, already!” 

And then with one swift yank, I pulled her dress down. Like a curtain being drawn between us. I reached down, grabbed my pants, and dragged them back up my legs, buttoning the fly and then buckling the belt.

Alex whipped around. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“I don’t want to be that guy,” I told her, the words feeling satisfying on my tongue.

“What guy?” she spat.

“The one you use to feel better about yourself. The one you fuck to try to fill the emptiness in your life.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you, Blake, but you
are
that guy. You always will be. Just look at you. You’re hot, you’re good in bed, you have a nice ass, and that’s about it. My advice to you: just get used to the fact that you will
always
be that guy.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from screaming something back at her. So she wanted to talk about what kind of people we were? Fine. I could enlighten her about what kind of person she was.

But I wouldn’t.

Because it would do no good.

And yes, maybe I
was
that guy at one point. Maybe I actually even enjoyed it for a while. But I was not him anymore. 

I could finally be sure of that.

I was finished with the Smart sisters. Finished with their drama, their competitiveness, their messy, complicated relationship.

Finished with being a pawn in their fucked up game.

“Good luck, Alex,” I said quietly, flipping back the lock and reaching for the door handle. “I hope you find everything you’re looking for.”

And then I walked out. Out of her life. Out of her convoluted, fucked-up shit. And most importantly, out of her reach.

And as I exited the bar into the twilight of another completed day, I wondered if I was the first guy in the world to ever successfully disentangle myself from a member of the Smart family.

The thought made me smile.

Epilogue

One year later…

I pour the extra foam off the head of the beer and slide it in front of the tired local who sits at the bar. He looks like he’s had a long day. He nods gratefully at me and takes a long gulp.

“Thanks,” he says with a breath.

“No problem.”

Even though it holds a few bad memories, there are many things I like about bartending at Hank’s. Business is always steady. The drink orders are usually simple and straight forward (nothing I have to look up with an app on my phone). But the thing I like most is the fact that the rich, lonely housewives never set foot in here. I think it’s something about the neon Miller Light sign in the window and the handwritten happy hour menu in the front that keeps them at bay. And that’s perfectly fine with me.

Sure the occasional fight between locals does break out from time to time, but nothing I can’t handle. The fellow customers usually break it up anyway.

At first it was hard to look at the booth in the back and not think about Lia or Alex or the drama they dragged me into. But that’s pretty much worn off by now. I haven’t seen Alex since I left her in the men’s bathroom. I occasionally see Lia around town and we politely say hello but that’s about it.

I hear Lia and Grayson are still together. They rented an apartment in town. He runs the family restaurant and the last I heard she had sold a graphic novel to a publishing house in New York.

I don’t envy Grayson Walker for still being mixed up in that family, but hey, to each their own, right? I guess if you love someone enough, you make it work.

“Another Blue Moon for table 2,” Vee says to me, placing her serving tray down on the bar and bending down to tie her converse sneaker.

I pull a clean pint glass from the rack and place it under the tap.

Vee is dating a really nice stock broker who lives in the city. After three months of rejecting her advances, she finally gave up on me. She told me jokingly the first time she brought him into the bar, “I couldn’t wait for you forever, Blake.”

And I nodded.

I never expected her to.

The door jingles and I look up. It’s still early. Our usual after-work rush doesn’t start for another thirty minutes. I’m surprised to see someone I don’t recognize walk through the door. It’s very rare that we get any non-locals in here.

The girl who just walked in is so stunning, I completely forget that I’m pouring a beer. The cold liquid rushes over the top of the glass onto my hand. I jump out of my trance and release the tap, wiping my wet fingers on the towel that’s hanging on my shoulder.

She approaches the bar and gives me a smile. It’s not the kind of smile that comes with an agenda. It’s just a simple, sweet, carefree smile that shows off a set of perfect white teeth.

Her hair is the color of midday sun. It’s wound in tight curls that bounce off the tops of her shoulders, like they’re playing hopscotch on her fair, freckled skin.

“Hi,” I say, abandoning the pint of Blue Moon, much to the annoyance of Vee who is still waiting for it. But I don’t care. I have to talk to this girl. It’s a need that I don’t even recognize. Because it doesn’t come from any place but the unfamiliar burning desire to simply hear her voice.

“Hi,” she says, and just as I suspected, it’s the most precious thing I’ve ever heard. I look down, half expecting to see my heart in a puddle on the floor. “This is an interesting place.”

And
she has a British accent. Fuck.

“What can I get you?” The words nearly gurgle out of my mouth. I’m feeling so unsmooth right now I barely recognize myself.

She bites her lip as she studies the taps.

Well, isn’t
that
just about the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen?

“Hmmm. What do you recommend?” she asks.

A date with me,
I want to say but refrain. I know instantly that this is not the kind of girl to use sly pick-up lines on. She’ll run the other way.

“Well, that depends. What are you in the mood for?”

She slides onto a stool and puffs out a gust of air. Her breath smells like honey. “Well, I’ve just got off the plane from London and I’ve got to run errands with my cousin tonight, so anything that cures jet lag would be fantastic.”

“Right,” I say, “I have just the thing.”

Even though I don’t. Even though I don’t have a clue what cures jetlag. But I’m not about to say no to this girl. And I have a feeling I might
never
be able to say no to her.

I start pouring liquids into a mixer, not even sure what I’m making. I just know that it has to be epic. It has to make her fall in love with me.

No pressure or anything.

“You said you’re here to see your cousin?” I ask.

“Yes. She’s getting married this weekend. I’m a bridesmaid.”

My mind instantly flashes to the image of this girl in a bridesmaid dress. Something pastel and strapless that shows off her pale skin and delicate shoulders.

Aaaand now I’m hard.

Perfect.

 I adjust my jeans as I finish the mysterious concoction and set it in front of her. She takes a sip and I hold my breath.

Her reaction is perplexing. I can’t, for the life of me, tell if she likes it, or is trying to hide her gag reflexes.

And that’s probably because I can’t, for the life of me, even remember what I put in it.

“So?” I ask hopefully.

She smiles. “It’s perfect.”

You’re perfect
, I think and nearly say it aloud.

I lean forward on the bar, cupping my chin in my hand. “So, how long are you in town? Do you need like a tour guide or anything?”

She giggles. “I didn’t think Eastbrook was the sort of place where one needs a tour guide.”

“Well,” I reply, “isn’t that exactly what one would say if one didn’t know one needed a tour guide?”

What am I saying right now?

I don’t even know if I’m still speaking English.

She takes a sip. “I suppose it is.”

“Is that a yes, then?”

She grins and opens her mouth to answer. I’m almost positive it’s a yes. But I never get to hear it. The front door jingles again and in walks the one and only Lia Smart.

Fuck.

I watch open mouthed as the girl slides off the barstool and runs right into Lia’s outstretched arms. They hug for what feels like an eternity. Enough time for the blood to drain from my face. For all sensation to leave my toes. For my slow, inept brain to make the horrifying connection.