“What time is it?”
“Almost two. I finally woke up and wondered where my little body pillow was.”
“Sorry we borrowed her from you.”
“Judging by the amount of tequila that was consumed tonight, it was needed.” He grabs the half empty glass from the side ofLainey’s table, bringing it to his nose for a sniff and winces. “Damn, you girls are tougher than me.”
I nod, the motion making my head spin so I lay back down and curl into a ball, pulling a spare blanket over me.
Ryan sets the glass back down, sinking into the couch to pull Lainey’s legs over his lap. He adjusts the blanket to cover her and reaches a hand up to smooth her hair out of her face. “So what was tonight about?”
“Um…well you probably realize Jim and I have been hanging out.”
He smirks, eyes never leaving the side of Lainey's face. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that.”
“And um…well we went on our first official date tonight.”
“How did that go?”
The date itself was amazing. The best date of my life, hands down, just like every other time I’m with Jim. If I could relive that moment up until we pulled in my driveway, I’d lock it up inside a core memory that I can reflect on when I’m old and gray. “It was perfect, until we got back to my place and my ex was waiting on my front steps.”
Ryan’s hand pauses mid-swipe, and his brows raise. “Do you still have history with this ex?”
“No. Fuck no. Haven’t talked to him in well over a year. He just showed up to be a dick. You might even know him. Um, my ex is Marcus Sheppard, who apparently is Jim’s cousin.” I pause, but don’t have the gall to look at Ryan’s expression.
He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Jesus. So you’re telling me that your ex-boyfriend Marcus, who I’ve only heard shitty things about, is the same person as Jim’s shithead cousin Marc, who Iknowis a certified asshole?”
“One and the same.”
Ryan is silent, eyes slowly blinking to absorb the information. His only response is to bring his own bottle of water to his lipsfor a drink, so I continue, “Anyways, Marcus made a comment about my sister dying, then called me a fat C-U-Next-Tuesday, so Jim beat the shit out of him in my driveway.”
Ryan’s hand pauses mid-air, the bottle tilted dangerously close to his lips, the liquid on the verge of spilling. His hand drops so fast, water splashes up and out of the bottle, landing on his pants. “Holy. Shit.”
“I was embarrassed and pissed off, so I kicked them both off my property. And then I came here. Oh and I’m in love with Jim, but probably just royally fucked everything up.”
Ryan’s head shoots up to me. “I don’t even know where to start. I’m still trying to figure out how I never realized Marcus and Marc were the same person.”
He brings up a good point. “Yeah, how did that happen? Lainey met Marcus once or twice maybe.”
He runs a palm over his wild scruff, the side effect of working too many shifts in a row. “Yeah, but the second time was pretty short-lived, right? I think you ended it before I had a chance.”
Guilt starts to weigh on me, a heavy stone sitting on the center of my chest. If Ryan didn’t know, it’s really possible Jim didn’t know for that long. It’s also a possibility he didn’t mean anything by not telling me.
“Plus, hehatesMarc. Marc’s a twat, really can’t see you with him. Actually,” he says, pausing to finish off his water. He works his throat in one heavy swallow, twists the cap back on the bottle and tosses it on the table before continuing. “Way back in the day, Jim had some semi-serious girlfriend that he had been dating since undergrad, and she cheated on him with Marc while at a family event. They were never close, but that sparked their hatred. Marc is jealous of Jim, I think. He’s always looking for a way to one-up him. Besides the occasional run-in with him for basketball, they don’t speak.”
I let my head fall back into the couch, feeling like such an asshole. How hurt has Jim been by Marcus over the years, just for me to throw it in his face that he was a liar.
“This finally explains that basketball game.”
“Basketball game?”
“Every once in a while Marc will drop in on our three-on-three basketball games. We try to avoid playing with him because he’s an asshole, but occasionally we need another person. A few weeks ago, he and Jim got into it. I’m not even sure what happened, Jim rebounded and Marc fouled him, Jim got in his face and before we knew what happened they were fighting. Marcus clocked him right in the eye.”
I gasp, a hand coming over my mouth. So Jim’s black eye was truly from basketball, but not for the reason he claimed.
“It was such a cheap shot. We’re in the middle of a gym with a fucking youth basketball tournament right by us. Jim wasn’t going to fight in front of kids. It killed him to let Marc hit him and walk away from it without defending himself, but he's a better man than that.”
Jim is a good man. Even in my half-dazed tequila haze, I’m not sure how I ever doubted that. “Explains why he went full caveman on Marc earlier tonight.”
