Between Octobers Bk 1, Savor The Days Series (11 page)

Read Between Octobers Bk 1, Savor The Days Series Online

Authors: A.R. Rivera

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #hollywood, #suspense, #tragedy, #family, #hen lit, #actor, #henlit, #rob pattinson

“Loser was his name. Big. Fat. Loser. Don’t
laugh. It’s not funny.” She pointed accusingly at my smile and
giggled.

“I have to warn you, I’m pretty good at
this.” I patted Evan’s shoulder and sat beside him. “Boys against
girls?”

“That hardly seems fair. You ladies will be
passed out before ten.” The look on Evan’s face said he was very
pleased by the possibility.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of
you.” Marcus nudged Lily’s arm.

She was about to offer a nonverbal retort,
but I intervened on her behalf to keep things civil. “You guys have
no idea who you’re talking to. She’s my ace in the hole. In fact,
I’m so sure you two will lose—should we give them a handicap,
Lily?”

“Hell yes.” Lily raised her shot glass and I
met it with mine. We knocked them together and shouted “Salut!” in
unison before gulping.

“Good, you can swallow. Now, how do you
play?” Marcus snickered.

Evan erupted at the euphemism.

I shook my head. The strong burn of whiskey
kept me from responding verbally.

Lily threw Marcus a knowing look that said
she intended to make him pay in other, more amusing ways. “The
rules are: each player gets one chance to toss the quarter into the
glass at the center. You have to bounce it—only once—off the table.
If I make it, you drink,” She pointed to Marcus. “If Grace makes
it, Evan drinks, and vice versa. If you miss, you drink the shot
yourself. We keep going until you guys need to stop.”

They asked a few questions and took a few
practice shots. Then, we flipped a quarter to see which team would
start. Marcus won the toss and decided to go first. He barely
missed the glass and had to drink. It was Evans turn next. He made
the shot, but didn’t bounce the quarter and had to drink. Lily took
her turn. She made the shot and pointed to Marcus, he took another
drink.

Then it was my turn. I carefully placed the
quarter between my index finger and thumb, adjusting my grip. If I
missed, I’d have to drink. I could already feel the effects of the
handicap shot. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to use the double
shot glass.

“I’ll put you to bed,” Evan smiled.

I bounced the coin. It hit the table and
leapt in a perfect arc, soaring into the small glass at the center.
The quarter jingled into the bottom of the cup—it was a beautiful
melody, proudly singing my victory.

“I made up the guest bed. It’s a full size,
so you two can share.” I pointed to Evan with satisfaction. “That’s
your drink, dude.” He rolled his eyes and tossed it back.

After a few more rounds, all of which are
split between our opponents, Marcus and Evan were getting pink
cheeked. Though it was not hot, I opened the back door. After a few
more rounds, Marcus’ movements started to slow. His head bobbed as
he asked for coffee. After I put on a fresh pot, Evan invited me
outside to talk while he smoked.

We stood on the patio and I watched the
smoldering billows of smoke waft in hectic circles around his
attractive profile.

“You weren’t kidding about a high tolerance.
You guys are nearly on the second bottle.”

“All in a day’s work, my dear,” he bragged
in his usual pleasant manner. “You Americans think you’re so
superior. You may have won the war, but that’s all you’ll win.”

We laughed together and talked about menial
things until he was done. He smothered the burning end in an
ashtray I’d picked up on my last trip to the store. “It was kind of
you to get this for me.”

“How do you know it’s for you? Maybe I’m
thinking of taking up smoking.” I simpered mischievously.

His smile slackened. “Stop looking at me
like that. I need to concentrate on winning.” He kissed my forehead
and slipped into the house.

I was alone in the cold, wondering what look
I’d given him until I remembered it didn’t matter. He may have been
composed enough to carry on a short conversation, but he was well
on his way to inebriation.

Back inside, Lily was busy coaching Marcus
on how to hold the coin at the proper angle to get a nice curve on
it. I guessed by that point, she knew we were so far ahead and they
were so far gone, it didn’t matter. We’d already won.

When Evan returned with coffee, the game
picked up again. Despite all the training, Marcus was hopeless.
Evan did get lucky and made a shot. I reached for the glass but
Lily swiped it.

“Finally! A girl could die of
dehydration.”

One round later, Evan asked for a break. We
told him to take all the time he needed. He got up and staggered
with Marcus to the sofa. Just as Lily and I were considering
cutting them off, Marcus’ eyes rolled back and closed.

“Do you hear that?” Lily asked, leaning over
him.

“Hear what?”

“It’s the sweet melody of another clean
victory!” She clapped her hands together and raised them over her
head.

Her shout was acknowledged by Marcus’s head,
followed by his body, rolling onto the floor without so much as a
grunt. We laughed while enjoying a victory shot.

“I hate losing,” Evan grumbled.

“Well?” I sat beside him on the small couch,
waiting for the concession speech.

Lily was behind the sofa, doing her victory
dance. I was sure if Marcus could’ve heard, she’d sing.

Evan scooted to the edge of the couch,
placing his hands on his knees. As he hoisted himself up, he
timbered to one side.

“I got you,” I swooped in to help.

“I ge’the bed,” he slurred. “The pansy keeps
ass out here.”


Okay,” I soothed, not quite sure what
he was saying, but wanting to remain agreeable. “That last shot was
the killer, huh?”

I escorted him to the guest room at the end
of the hall and set him gingerly on the bed. A misguided elbow
knocked the lamp on the nightstand but I caught it before it fell.
His eyes were slightly drooped over his amused smile. He was a very
pleasant drunk. When I asked him to wait while I snatched some
Gatorade and ibuprofen, he grinned dizzily and folded his hands
across his lap.

I ran full-tilt to the kitchen, fumbled
around and leapt back, hoping to make it before he passed out. When
I barreled into the room, he was still sitting up, dreamy-eyed and
grinning, his hair a beautiful mess.


Here, take this.” He grabbed the
bottle after I opened it for him. “This, too.” I held out the
tablet. He opened up wide and I set the oblong pill on his
tongue.

I heard the swirl of liquid as he gulped.
“What was it?”

“Pain reliever. Drink as much as you can and
your liver will thank you in the morning. If you stay hydrated,
maybe the hangover won’t be so bad. It used to work for me when I
partied.”

“The responsible you. A party girl? I’d love
to see that.” He spoke slowly, carefully enunciating.


Maybe you’ll get lucky. I’m getting
you pajamas. Be right back.”

Creeping into Noah’s room, I pulled an
unused pair of sweat pants from the bottom of his dresser. I bought
them a little too big and was supposed to return them, but kept
forgetting. On my way back to Evan, I clipped the tags off with my
teeth.

“Here, change into these.” I tossed the
sweats and they landed, folded, on his lap.

“How did you win?” His shining eyes held as
much awareness as the liquor would allow.

I smiled, pleased with myself. “I said you
were going to lose to a lightweight, and you did. Big time. I only
got the one shot, before we started.”

He complained, indecipherably, leaning back
onto the pillow—gorgeous, smoothing his chaotic hair with his
fingers and blinking slowly. He had very thick eyelashes.

The taste of victory was sweet, though I did
feel a little guilty about the method. He had to realize winning
was entirely dependent upon dexterity and not the highest
tolerance.

“I’ll tell you a little secret.” I leaned
over and whispered, “I’m almost sorry.”

His strong hand pressed on the back of my
head. His lips made several landings along the side of my
neck—every cell in my body exploded with heat—before I reacted.

“What are you doing?”

The stupid question was barely out of my
mouth before being muffled by his. Despite the sudden nature of the
exploit, his touch was gentle. That bursting heat coursed through
me as I feebly pushed against him. His hand disappeared from behind
my back and resurfaced beneath my shirt. I gasped and leapt
away.

Across the room, as I struggled to regain
composure from the unexpected assault, Evan seemed quite pleased
with himself. Of course, he had just polished off a pint of whisky,
so he had an excuse. Once my labored breathing leveled-off, I made
for the door.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you at
the bar.”

“Good night, Evan.”

Lily was babbling about something on the
news as I sat down beside her, taking in my surprise. Not at what
transpired, because that was totally my fault—I got too close—but
the way I felt about it. I didn’t want to push him away

I’d been readily convinced that that part of
my life was over. No more butterflies for me. No longing glances
from devoted eyes, or cold nights spent curled up with someone to
keep my feet warm. I was alone and ready to deal with it. I’d only
gotten as far as I did because of the parameters of my carefully
prepared routines.

Then he hit me with this curve ball!
That kiss . . . oh,
that kiss
.
It wasn’t like the other and I couldn’t ignore it. I should’ve been
angry. He had no right to touch me like that. I wanted to be mad.
Maybe I would have been if he hadn’t felt so good. What was he
doing to me?

I coaxed the hairs on my arms down with my
fingers, thinking of his silken hands and rough touch, his
beautiful lips. “Evan kissed me.”

The first time, Evan and I agreed it was a
mistake. It wasn’t going to happen again. I tried to forget,
telling myself it made no difference. No need to tell Lily.

“Details!” She squealed, excitedly grinning,
and pulling her feet onto the couch to avoid Marcus’ head on the
floor.

“Is he alright down there? That can’t be
comfortable.”

“He’s fine—tell me.”

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. “Well, I
showed Evan to the room, gave him some Gatorade and ibuprofen—”

“Yeah, yeah, for the hangover. And . . . ?”
She muttered, cuing me to get to the good part.

“Well, I was apologizing for getting them
wasted and he kissed my neck.”

“He kissed your
neck
?” Her eyebrows shot up.

“Then my mouth. And put his hand up my
shirt.” My face was burning red.

“Hmm . . . a boob man.” She smiled wickedly.
“What did you do?”

“I got the heck outta there. But he did
mention something about seeing me at ‘the bar’?”

“You met him in the elevator, right?”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“Maybe he got you confused with someone
else. That would explain him being handsy.”

I followed her as she got up. Along the way
to the kitchen, her comment sank in. I didn’t grumble like I wanted
because I was sure Evan knew who he was talking to and getting
upset over a simple comment seemed asinine. But it bothered me.

“He knew who he was talking to.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Of course he did.”
Her version of a retraction.

I poured a shot for us both after we cleared
away the traces of our impromptu party. When I knocked it back, my
thoughts wandered towards the guest bedroom. My lips tingled, my
mouth watered and burned.

“Ugh, this is terrible.” Lily squinted,
leaning in. “So, you liked the kiss,” she surmised, and followed up
with a surprising question. “Why didn’t you let him feel you up?
Mama needs a little fun.”

My shocked laugh startled us both. “Shoot! I
don’t know. It scared me. It’s been too long. And not long
enough.”

I touched my neck again and looked towards
the clump of flesh out cold on the family room floor. The volume of
his snore was escalating so I moseyed over and tucked a decorative
pillow under his head.

Lily and I talked until the shot kicked in.
I gave her my bed and took the chaise.

As I sat on the end, unfolding my blanket,
the feeling of Evan’s palm brushing sweetly against my bare skin
overwhelmed me. The feeling was so strong, like he was in the room
with me. The feeling evoked a strange anxiety, too—shock at being
touched with such familiarity—because his hands did not belong on
me. I curled up under my blanket and tried to forget.

 

October
18
th

I woke to the sound of my alarm blaring and
smashed the top of the clock. Hobbling out of bed, I felt anxious
to shake off my strange dream. I was riding the city bus all over
Los Angeles. Solomon was the bus driver who wouldn’t let me off. He
kept telling me if I wanted off, I’d have to jump. But the bus was
moving so fast and the speed scared me.

I made my coffee, took my vitamins, read my
devotional, and hit the treadmill. The list of things I needed to
accomplish—costume shopping was a must—was clouded with thoughts of
Evan and his manicured hands. After a shower, I got the kids up. We
kept quiet for Marcus, who was still sawing logs on the living room
floor.

Once Caleb and Noah got off to school, the
house was filled with glorious silence. Everyone else was still
sleeping and I felt like cooking. I took out my ingredients and got
to work on country potatoes, eggs with bacon, and fluffy pancakes.
Contentedly craving carbs, my light mood made me go overboard. By
the time Lily woke up, everything was done. We sat at the table and
talked over breakfast.

“Don’t you think Marcus is a nice guy?” She
asked.

“Yes. He’s cute, too, despite the full
beard.”

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