“Hey.” I try to soothe her with my tone. “Don’t worry about the money. I’ll help you think of something, I promise.” I glance to the poolroom with a hard stare. This is it—do or die. If I let her believe that Eli is the one she slept with, then he gets to be the bad guy. And if I tell her it was me, then we’ll never get back to where we were, and I don’t think I could live with that. Sunday might forgive Eli, but would she ever forgive me? I don’t know if I can risk finding out the answer. It probably doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not as if Sunday and I could have ever evolved past the friend zone. At least she’s never been willing to. “And don’t let that thing with Eli bother you too much. I’m sorry, though.” I look right into her amber eyes and pour my soul out. “I’m really sorry about everything that happened that night.” And that right there isgospel.
She swallows hard, her gaze falling to the floor. “I am, too.” Sunday tightens her coat around her and heads out of the bar as if she was running from an entire pack of rabid bears, afraid of being devoured. Little does she know she was already devoured by a rabid bear in sheep’s clothing—me.
And as much as I want to hate myself for it, a tiny part of me wishes I could relive theeffort.
That will never happen.When pigs flyas my mother likes tosay.
I glance back at the oversized Christmas tree sitting in the corner, and my eye snags on a tiny pink ornament, a pig with wings—and Iwonder.
Knocked Up and Taken Down a Notch
Sunday
To-do before thewedding!
Get nails done sans Trixie who equates a nail salon with false imprisonmentandsans Serena who has clearly imprisoned mysanity.
Avoid the Black Bear in order to avoid Serena and, more importantly, avoid He Who Shall Not Be Mentioned for reasons certain raw and slow to heal orifices would rather notdiscuss.
Stock up on all products that promise the aforementioned orifice relief frominjury.
Research cat breeds for an upcoming future that bars men with weaponized joysticks from ever entering any residence I might take up in. Spinsters are the new black. I’m callingit.
I’ve spent New Year’s Eve in just about every kind of way. My father, being the unofficial baron of New York, made sure that as children, my brothers and I spent that raucous night having many a misadventures down in Times Square amongst the chaos and the all-around revelry that takes place. I’ve also spent New Year’s Eve at home and knitted a scarf, gone to the movies with friends—so weird to be in the middle of a dull monologue while the rest of the world is screaming their heads off—I’ve done the party scene, the curling up on the couch and watching it unfold on TV thing, I’ve pretty much covered most of my New Year’s Eve bases—and tonight I’m pretty sure I’m covering the last one. A wedding. My brother, Nolan, older by far too many years to remember, is marrying his longtime love, Misty Baker. Misty teaches at Whitney Briggs University in the English department and has earned the esteemed title of Professor Baker—soon-to-be Knight. I’m thrilled to be gaining a sister. In fact, Misty has felt like one all along. And in an odd way, I’m glad to welcome Seth into the fold as well, even if he has always felt a little like family to meanyway.
“This is the place,” I say as Serena and I stare up at the giant pink bird atop The Sloppy Pelican Bar and Grill. The Sloppy Pelican is pretty much a knockoff of the Black Bear, only for the older set—underclassmen and graduate students need notapply.
“Come on, let’s do the obligatory selfie before we head inside.” Serena snaps a quick pic of us making crazy eyes with the bird in the background and quickly uploads it to all her social media sites before we head onin.
It’s warm inside, noisy, no thanks to the house band blaring away, and there seems to be just as many bodies here as there are back at the Black Bear. The floor is covered with peanut shells—per management’s wishes. Each table gets a bucket full of peanuts and is encouraged to toss the shells aside for the hell of it. I’m starting to understand why Serena chose the Black Bear over The Sloppy Pelican since the staff is required to clean this mess up each and every night. A waitress whizzes by with a giant, glibbery steak, and the heavy scent of garlic and onions trails behind like toxicfumes.
“Oh,gross.” My stomach does its best rendition of a spin cycle at the putrid smell. I’ve never been big on red meat, but something about that onion stench—and, my God, did they harvesteverygarlic on the planet just to douse that poor dead cow with it? I’ll be happy if I never get near any of the aforementioned quasi-edible fare everagain.
“It’s not gross,” Serena is quick to correct. “It’s beautiful in here. Lex and her friend turned this place into a goldmine, no pun intended.” Lex is Serena’s older sister, and for all practical purposes both of our mothers. She’s practically raised us as her own, being that my mother is dead and theirs walked out on them way backwhen.
We take a few steps into the cheery establishment and pause. The Sloppy Pelican was once an old mining-themed restaurant and the new owners chose to keep the rustic look of the plywood floors and tables. Mason jars are used instead of glasses. Lex, my psychotic cousin, means well, and I love her as if she were my mother more than my cousin or sister. She’s always been there for me no matter what. But she’s a straight shooter and a little rough around the edges so she takes a bit of getting used to. And, of course, there’s Marlin, Serena and Lex’s older brother, who is now a proud member of the Jepson Police Department. He’s always been there for me too in a brotherly way. A brother with a loaded pistol at his side at all times. I’m pretty sure for the sake of everyone’s safety I shouldn’t even whisper Eli Gates’ name or the acts that may or may not have played out inprivate.
Serena leads us into the oversized banquet room in the back decorated with bright red roses and baby’s breath as far as the eye can see. Each table has a crystal vase filled with their glory, and there’s an arch in the rear with a makeshift altar covered with a bed of wisteria where the knot will officially be tied. Lex and her new husband, Axel, were married here just over a month ago. There’s a violin quartet playing classical music from the stage, and there are enough bodies milling around to contest Nolan’s promise of having a small wedding. I’m not surprised. Misty and Nolan are well-loved byeveryone.
“Ladies.” Seth appears from among the crowd, and my head inches back a notch. My God, does he ever clean up nice. Black, slicked hair, eyes the color of the deep end of the ocean, and that broad chest is stretching taut the dress shirt he’s wearing. Seth in regular clothes is enough to command the girls’ attention. Seth in his basketball uniform for damn sure does the job. But Seth in a dark fitted Italian suit is enough to make even the toughest girls swoon. “Serena.” He nods before looking to me, and his eyes widen a notch. “You lookstunning.”
Serena does a little mock bow. “Thank you. And by the way, there are other girls in this room other than Sunday.” She gives a hard wink my way before heading into the crowd. “Have fun, nerds!” Serena has always teased the two of us as if we were a couple. Insert eye roll. She knows very well that Seth is destined to become brother number three in less than an hour—four if you countMarlin.
“Thank you,” I say, making a face in Serena’s direction. “For helping run an extension with the shelter.” It was Seth who calmly called and explained that I would need a little more time to get the money to them, and they assured him that they always provide a grace period for these kinds of things. Four months. I have until May to make the monetary magic happen. Not that it’s any better—more like a slow slide into my soon-to-bedisgrace.
“You’re welcome.” He tips his head back and his lids hood low, making my stomach squeeze tight. I glance around the room immediately for Rush or Nolan. I always feel guilty for having a smidge of attraction to Seth. Okay, so it’s more than a smidge, but nobody on the planet needs to be apprised of that. “And I mean it. I’ll be helping you get every last dime long before the deadline. Don’t youworry.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” It comes out far snippier than I meant it to, but I can’t help it. I’m exhausted beyond reason. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks. It’s as if sleeping with Eli reset my body clock for one-night stand mode—minus all the fun I supposedly had. I’ve never felt lousier in my life than I did waking up to that naked body beside me—a gorgeous body but nevertheless. I’m never touching a drink again in mylife.
“I’m alwaysniceto you,” hecounters.
“Ha! You just saidniceas if it were a four-letter word, and before you correct me, I’m quite aware it is, smartass. Besides, we’re not nice to each other. It’s our thing, remember? I see you coming and I go the other way. You see me coming and you amp up the rude remarks. It’s our safe zone, and I’m not comfortable any other way, so boot scoot your way to that crowd of vixens eyeing you. I’m sure you’ll rustle up a skank to take back to your place before the night is through and ring in the new year the rightway.”
“Boot scoot? Rustle up? Do I look like I just got off a cattle ranch?” He holds out his arms, and my mouth waters as his shirt struggles to shift along withhim.
“You look like you’re about to do a hit for the mob. You’re not packing any heat, areyou?”
“Honey, I’m packing heat every single night.” He gives his belt a jiggle, and I gasp and swat him with my purse as all the heat in my own body dive-bombs to that sugar hole Eli invaded like a NavySEAL.
