Five Ways to Fall (33 page)

Nicki tries a slightly different approach, taking a seat next to me so that we’re eye level. “What’s going on with you, buddy?” she asks softly, handing me a beer.

With a groan, I drop my head into my free hand.

And then I tell them about everything. Even the paintball ambush, which thankfully they find more humorous than disturbing. When I’m done, I find myself facing two sets of eyes, one harder than the other, but both empathetic.

“He was sleeping with her almost the whole time you were married?” Nicki asks, her eyes widening in disbelief. “I just don’t get it. He seemed so into you. Like, there were no signs that made me think ‘cheater.’ Not one!”

Lina heaves a sigh. “I don’t know what to say about all of this, Reese. Is this healthy? No. Are you going to get hurt again? Yes. Is it worth it?” She pauses, as if to let us both think about it. “No. I mean, that bitch deserves what’s coming to her and she’s going to get it eventually—don’t you worry about that. Karma never forgets. But it doesn’t have to come from you. There’s really no point in keeping in touch with the douchebag. What you two had is gone and even if you get back together, it’ll
never be the same
. You won’t ever trust him again!”

“I told you, I don’t want to get back together with him!”

Lina’s face turns sour. “I need a drink to deal with your stubborn ass. Your turn, Nicki.” I watch Lina’s willowy frame march stiffly through the door, wondering why my best friend seems so angry at me all of a sudden. We’ve been through a lot together and she’s always been the nonjudgmental constant for me.

“She’s just worried about you,” Nicki confirms, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “We all are. I know you loved him but the guy’s a waste of air, Reese. I wish you’d see that.”

I tip my head back and let out an exaggerated moan. “I do see that!”

“Well, then when is this going to end? How far are you going to go with this?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” That’s the truth. I’ve played a few scenarios out in my head, but I’m not married to any of them.

“Well . . .” A wry smile curls her lips. “At least you have Ben to keep you occupied.”

“I do,” I agree, smiling as I peer over my shoulder through the window.

To see a platinum-blond hovering and Ben grinning down at her. “Shit. When did
she
get here?” What happened to those litigation guys keeping her entertained? I guess she’s not after just any lawyer.

She’s after mine.

I take a long draw of my beer as I try to make sense of the tightening feeling in my gut right now. Is it jealousy that he’s been with her? Disappointment that that smile’s not reserved only for me?

“Well, you’d better get in there before she puts her stripper moves on him,” Nicki says, standing. I follow suit and find myself face to face with Mason.

“Hey.” His face pinches up a bit. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” I look over his shoulder, but there’s no Lina in sight. “She’s inside,” he confirms, adding, “doing shots with Kent and Travis.”

“Ooooh . . .” both Nicki and I wail in unison. “Lina plus shots equals pukey-pukey tomorrow. Make sure you have a bucket,” I warn Mason, adding, “and hold her hair back.” Mason’s not going to deal with boyfriend vomit duties very well. This may prove a true test to their relationship.

“Catch you inside,” Nicki says with a pat on my shoulder, leaving me alone with my stepbrother. I fall back into the lawn chair and he joins me, to sit silently as I watch a stray cat dart across the street, its eyes glowing against an approaching car’s headlights.

“So . . . I think I know what’s going on.”

“You’re
so
clever.” I reach up to stroke his head and he swats my hand away, an annoyed frown touching his face.

“You know, when you moved back, I was sure you were trying to swindle Jack out of money. But so far you’ve done nothing but work and try not to act insane. My dad’s really happy, Reese. I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.” He pauses. “And he wouldn’t be happy if he knew what you were doing.”

He’s playing the Jack card on me. And it’s working, guilt settling onto my shoulders like a dead weight. “Are you referring to what I’m doing with Ben or Jared?”

“Both.” Mason pauses. “You know, relationships aren’t supposed to be like this, Reese. I don’t know if you’re going after guys like this because you’re a glutton for punishment or because you’ve just never seen what a decent relationship looks like, but—”

“I’m not
after
Ben,” I snap. “And Jared was all heart and no head. That’s really the only way I can describe that.”

“And were you using your head tonight?” he pushes. “Because I get the impression that you think you have a score to settle with your ex.”

“What do you care, Mason? I get that you want to be nice to me because of Lina, but don’t suddenly try to be my big brother.”

“That’s not . . .” His lips purse together tightly. “Don’t you ever wonder why your mom is the way she is? What made her so callous? People don’t just grow up like that.”

“No, I don’t, Mason. I try not to think about Annabelle
at all
.” My irritation is growing by the second. Where the hell is Lina? She needs to come fetch her
boyfriend.

“Well, I think it had something to do with what happened between her and your dad. I think she never got over it, and that makes her chew up good men like Jack.”

“And what happened between Annabelle and my dad exactly, Mason? Because I’d love to know and I sure as hell have no idea. Do you?” I learned at a very young age that bringing up Hank MacKay got me nowhere but sent to my room. Annabelle could have ranted about my father to me, but what she chose to do was far worse. She just pretended that he didn’t exist.

“No, I don’t,” he admits. “But I know that we’d
all
hate to see you turn into her.” He sighs. “I knew she was cheating on my dad before he did. I heard her on the phone, late one night. I just wasn’t sure who it was with. Then, when my dad caught them . . .” Mason’s jaw clenches. “I hated seeing him cry over her.”

A lump spikes in my throat. Jack
cried
over Annabelle? I certainly never saw Annabelle shed a tear over Jack. In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen her cry since the day I watched her set fire to a box of my dad’s things in the driveway. She stood there, her arms wrapped around her body tight, ignoring my questions, until there was nothing left but ashes.

“Well, I’m
not
Annabelle and don’t
ever
compare me to her.”

Mason’s mouth twists up. “I really hope that’s true, Reese.”

“All right.” I stand, struggling to quash the bubble of pain rising. “I’m going to join your girlfriend for some shots.” I round the corner and step through the doorway.

And find Ben with a Twinkie attached to his chest.

Chapter 24

BEN

Shit
. This
really
isn’t helping right now. I peer down at Mercy, at her tits pressed up against my chest, the man-made cleavage through the center. I’m betting Mercy was an A—B, tops—before her implants. “You took the entire night off?”

She shrugs and then offers me a coy smile.

Fuck.
I’m halfway drunk and now I have a sure thing rubbing her nipples against me. Where the hell is Reese? She wouldn’t have left without her phone and I’m not giving that back until tomorrow. The last thing I need her doing is responding to him. Leaving the party to go meet him. To do what? Vengeance fuck the guy?

I shouldn’t care, but I do. I’m just having a hard time figuring out exactly why. I don’t like watching my friends make stupid mistakes, but my gut is feeling off about the entire situation. I take a long sip of my beer as I try to figure out if I’m more bothered by her acting like an idiot or her screwing around with another guy when I want to be the one screwing around with her. The woman has turned me upside down. Ben Morris does not concern himself with this kind of shit. Ben Morris goes with the flow. Ben Morris is fucking Switzerland! He can get hot ass wherever and whenever he wants it, no strings attached.

“Are you upset about something?” My eyes find Mercy’s double-Ds waiting for me when I look down. Case in point. Though this doesn’t appear to be without strings anymore.

I give her my best dimpled grin. “Do I look upset?”
Shit, do I?

“So what’s going on with that lawyer from your office?” she asks innocently.

“Just a friend,” I admit, not bothering to correct her on the lawyer piece.

“A friend like me?” Her hand slides down the front of my pants. Mercy giggles as she feels the hard-on I’ve been carrying around since Reese stalked into the bar in her red dress. “So this is okay? I mean, she could join if she wanted to.”

I struggle to keep beer from spraying out of my mouth with my burst of laughter as I picture Reese’s face in response to that proposition. It’s followed by a rush of blood southward. Damn, that could be hot. I wonder if she’d be into that?

Cool hands slide up under my shirt and then back down to my belt. “Want your gift now?”

Oh, hell
. I stall her fingers with my hand. Where is Reese? Her friends are at a table pounding shots of tequila and Jäger, but she’s not there. Scanning the crowd, I catch Kacey’s eye. I don’t know when she got here. I give her a wave. She responds with a nod toward Mercy and then that “what are you doing?” glare.

“I leave you alone for two minutes . . .” I hear Reese’s voice—laced with annoyance—coming from my left and I quickly maneuver out of Mercy’s grasp to wrap both arms around Reese’s body in a close-fitting hug.

“Please don’t leave me again,” I whisper into her ear. “I’m defenseless against her.”

“Jackass,” she mutters, glaring up at me. I can’t tell, but I think she may be genuinely mad at me. There’s definitely a spark of anger in those gorgeous eyes.

So I drop a lightning-fast kiss on her lips and beg, “Save me from her silicone.”

She cocks her head to the side, her gaze dipping down to my mouth. “You know you’re a pig, right?” The bite is gone from her tone, though. In fact, I feel her leaning farther into me.

“Yeah, but I’m
your
pig tonight.”

“You weren’t lying.”

I smile. “Mama bought me two sets.”

“I didn’t think they even made them for a bed this big,” she murmurs, her finger tracing over a grinning Buzz Lightyear. Her gaze roams my room—the plain blackout curtains, a couple of empty beer bottles lining the dresser, and a wall of half-naked football cheerleaders, each poster signed and personalized to me.

“It’s exactly as I pictured it.” She steps over to read one of the messages and then shakes her head. “So, when do you plan on growing up?”

“Never. Just call me Peter Pan.” I don’t even notice the posters anymore. They’re like wallpaper. I figured I’d toss them when I move, whenever that is. I’ve actually started scanning the newspapers for a one-bedroom apartment, but the very idea of living alone isn’t appealing. That’s the thing I like about living in a house with five guys—there’s always someone around, always people coming and going. Just like growing up with my brothers and Elsie.