Party at your brother’s tonight. I’ll be there all day prepping. I expect to see you tonight. Wear clothes! Those don’t need to come off until later.
A smile rides on my lips, first genuine one of the day. But there’s something about that note, the words, the flowery loops of her handwriting, the playfulness that veils a slight desperation, all of it grieves me on some level. I don’t know Zoey enough to feel anything real toward her, for her, but I know what it’s like to have your heart ground down to powder and blown in your face. And in that way, we seem to be kindred spirits. I head in and pull out my laptop. That name she said last night ricocheted around my mind like a boomerang. I was set on memorizing it for later. Holder Gleason. I’ll admit, I’m a sucker for a good investigation—and the mysterious asshole who turned Zoey into a walking ad for vodka is the exact asshole to scratch my itch.
I head out to the porch and google the shit out of him. Obituaries of people whose names are a close second pop up, a handful ofGaryHolderswho seem old enough to be her grandfather. Nothing to look at. I try to rack my brain for the name of the university she mentioned. Portland? Perch? Port. I initiate a refined search for Port and combine it with Holder Gleason’s name and bingo. Up comes his happy, smiling face, toothy grin, squinted eyes—jack-o-lantern smile my mother calls it, one eyebrow consistently higher than the other. A dull huff of laughter rolls through me. Can you really trust someone with one eyebrow out of joint? I click through a few articles. Academic debate instructor, the shining star of the studies of gender equalization programs, a human rights activist with a plethora of leadership positions. A professor. Huh. Nothing but net. This guy is as golden as his picket fence smile. A dark laugh rolls through me. Sure, he looks good on paper, but Zoey is bright, beautiful, and witty. And if I can glean all that in one night, how the hell could he not have seen it? I say good riddance to the guy.
It’s hard to believe Zoey would drop out of school and hole up at the lake to nurse a broken heart over the president of the Gender Equalization Board. It’s laughable. Zoey can get any man she wants at that university or out. Maybe I’ll talk to her later. Offer up a pep talk. I’m pretty good at those. When you have clients that are up against the wall, sometimes a pep talk from their attorney is the only thing that gets them through the day. And more often than not, this was a daily event. I had inadvertently become a legal cheerleader, and yet in my own life I found nothing to cheer about.
The sun presses down its glory over the lake, and I watch as a couple of kayakers and boaters do a careful dance navigating around one another. Down to the left, the day campers are staking their tents, the people as small as my thumb. Summer is just getting started, the heat already pulling the oils from the pines, perfuming the mountain with their goodness. This is what I miss about Loveless, the scented air, the rhythm, the tourists who can’t help but smile because they’re free from real-world responsibilities.
I close my laptop and slump in my chair. I am in Loveless breathing fresh pine-scented air, free from all real-world responsibilities, then why the hell aren’t I smiling?
Elizabeth bounds through my mind like a ghost, reminding me of all the horrors like an indelible stain that has etched over the deepest part of my heart. The memory of what was and what still is lacerates the wound right open. A part of me never wants to smile again.
* * *
Caleb and Kennedylive in a colossal home on the ritzy side of the water. Luxury in Loveless isn’t just a requirement. It’s a commandment written in stone and laid out for all the people to see and abide by. Night has fallen, but the property has a lattice rooftop of twinkle lights stretching overhead that reaches all the way to the waterline. The stars hang heavy above the lake like a sea of angels pouring out a benediction over it and the fireflies sway as if they were drunk between the rubber trees that line the periphery. Night magic has always been the lake’s greatest trick.
An entire catering crew works diligently manning the rows and rows of stainless chaffing dishes. The scent of something spicy and meaty has my stomach grumbling for attention, but I’m not looking in that direction at the moment. I’m sweeping my eyes over the hordes of beautiful girls who are laughing, dancing, running around barefoot and carefree on the powder white sand. They all look about Kennedy’s age. Caleb mentioned her sorority sisters would come, and come they did—about five hundred strong. But I recognize a few old-timers from the lake as well, familiar faces that peppered my childhood like stock actors appearing and disappearing on cue.
A firm hand falls over my shoulder. “What’s up?” I turn to find Gavin Jackson with that huge grin I last saw him sporting once he was home free with Demi. Things haven’t been easy for them, and now I suspect with Zoey on his hands, they haven’t improved all that much. Zoey is a handful. I do another sweep around. For the life of me, I can’t seem to get that woman out of my mind. I suspect it has to do with the proposition. Once my dick’s ego is inflated, it’s a hard obstacle to get around. It hasn’t always been this way, but it’s been a dry season going on months now.
“What’s up with you?” I offer up a firm handshake. “Looking good, man. You look happy.”
“Couldn’t be happier.” That grin he’s sporting confirms the fact. Demi shows up by his side, wrapping her arms around his waist, beautiful, bright-eyed, still very much emanating love for this guy right here. “Last I heard you were on your way to Loveless to forget about life.”
Demi jabs him in the ribs. “To write a book.” She smiles sweetly. “I hope it’s going well.”
Before I can answer, a burly man, familiar dark hair, day-glow smile, jumps me from behind before slapping me five.
“Ace Waterman.” I shake his hand and pull him in. Ace and I used to row across the lake each morning when we were kids. “You still kicking ass on the water?”
A sweetly perfumed girl with the face of a china doll pops up behind him. It’s Reese. I recognize her from the day at the cabin last year while trying to pin down who was blackmailing Kennedy. “Kicking ass and taking names. He’s on the rowing team at Yates.”
“Yates? No kidding. Congrats, dude.” I slap him five. “That’s huge. I’m proud of you, man.”
“How’s the book?” Ace’s eyes darken, and his brows dip as if calling me on my bullshit. And like magic, Caleb pops up as the music roars to life with a louder, trashier song about bare booties and big tits. I’ve always been a lyrics man. It’s nice to know I’ll be appreciating the fine art of wordsmithery via the millennial generation’s contribution to music. It’s technically Caleb’s shindig by proxy, so it’s nice to know my brother is keeping it classy. I’d tease him, but I wouldn’t want to offend Kennedy. She’s a spitfire,andmy future sister-in-law, so I want to keep the peace. Besides, the way Caleb’s been smiling every single day since the day they’ve made it official, I should be penning her a thank you note for pulling him out of his perennial funk—which ironically was due to Kennedy herself. It turns out, Caleb had spent his entire life wishing for the girl. Can’t blame him. Kennedy is a stunner.
“The book is going great, Ace. Thanks for asking. How’s school?”
I dig my gaze back into the crowd, winnowing through the blonde Zoey lookalikes to try to find the real deal.
“School is wrapping up. You’ll see my ugly mug back here on a regular basis. Keep an eye out on the lake in the morning. If you see me out there, join me. You know where I keep the sculls.”
“That I do. Thanks for the invite. I’ll be there kicking your ass all over that lake.” We bark out a laugh because neither of us thinks that’s possible.
Reese grimaces a moment. “Can I ask if you’re single?”
Ace growls at her playfully before chomping down on the side of her face with a cannibalistic kiss.
“I mean”—she giggles into Caleb—“I have a friend who would love to have coffee with you.”
“Do people do that?” Ace shakes his head. “Coffee?” he mouths as if it were an expletive.
“Actually, coffee sounds safe.” It doesn’t sound safe. She might as well have asked if I wanted to drink arsenic. Coffee sounds perfectly satanic at this point. But after Elizabeth, every unassuming task has a toxic potency to it—like writing that damn book for instance.
“What friend is this?” Kennedy presses into our tiny circle and pulls me into a hearty embrace, her tits smash over my chest, just a casualty of a platonic hug, but nevertheless they make me uneasy, considering my brother’s proximity to their owner. Kennedy holds the strong scent of beer mingling with her sticky sweet perfume. More toxicity and I force a smile to come and go as we part ways. I’m guessing Kennedy would have strongly disliked Elizabeth. She was no sorority girl. She would have frowned at the idea of attending this boisterous gathering, and that thought alone makes me feel smugly self-righteous and damn glad to be here.
“Brylee.” Reese breaks out into a sinister grin while curling her finger at a blonde not too far away. And horror of all horrors, said blonde bounces over in a pair of hot pink heels, matching vinyl dress, and pouty full lips. If you squint, she could be Zoey’s sister, but there’s a mean streak to Zoey that makes her a little edgier than the bubbling girl before me. “I have someone I’d love to introduce you to.” Reese commands her voice in a singsong manner, and my stomach does a revolution. I’m not big on a setup. I’m hoping my new friendBryleewill find me both old and repulsive because my heart is still bleeding out from its latest adventure in love and relationships—two things I’ve sworn off for the long haul. I’m sure my brand of wounded isn’t something beautiful Brylee is looking for.
