Keep Her (7 page)

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Authors: Faith Andrews

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: Keep Her
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“Enough!” Marcus roared. “You have no right.”

“Oh, the hell I don’t!” I did so have a right. She was
my
friend and I’d just gotten her back. Once he was done messing with her, I’d lose her again. Marcus wasn’t relationship material. This was just sex. And even though I felt guilty for ranting and raving at these two after pretty much doing the same thing with Beck, Beck was different than Marcus. I had hope. I’d seen it enough times to know that my brother was
hopeless.

“You think you can just fuck whoever you want and leave me to pick up all the pieces, don’t you? This won’t work, Marcus, and when you decide you’re done with her, like you did with all my other friends, she’ll be devastated and she won’t want to talk to me anymore. Again!”

Marcus glared at me with fury and rage in his eyes. His fists clenched at his sides, and his breathing picked up so that his chest heaved. He was about to rip me a new one, but before he could open his mouth, Tessa was between us. “Okay, everyone calm down. Marcus, why don’t you let me talk to Riley? We can catch up again later.”

He eyed me with pure hatred, his nostrils still flaring, but when Tessa walked over to him and stroked the bulging muscles in his tensing arm and whispered something to him, he visibly calmed down. “You’ll call me later,” he barked like a Neanderthal, like he had something to prove to me.

I rolled my eyes, but didn’t look away. I had to witness this whole ridiculous exchange for myself.

Tessa caressed his arm one more time and said, “Promise. Now, go cool off.”

He bent down to kiss her—a long, lingering kiss right on the mouth—again, making a show of what he thought I needed to see. It meant nothing to me. It was all an act. He was trying to impress her. There was no depth—Marcus didn’t do depth.

After he collected his belongings and walked out with a huff and the slam of a door, I sat down at the kitchen table next to a babbling Luca.

Tessa was the first to speak. I guess one of us had to break the ice. “Hey,” she said with a small smile. I had to hand it to her—here I was barging in on her Saturday morning afterparty and she didn’t seem the slightest bit annoyed with me. I guess, unlike my brother, she understood I only wanted the best for her. I didn’t want to see her hurt again.

“He’s bad news, Tessa.”

With that, her expression changed from appreciative to irritated. “Drop it. Please? I understand where you’re coming from and I appreciate it with all my heart, but I like being with him.”

Oh God, he’d gotten to her.
“Ridiculous. I just can’t see how—”

“Riley.” She inched closer, locking her eyes with mine. “Leave. It. Alone.” It was a stern warning and I knew better than to push my luck.

I looked away from her and down to Luca, who instantly made me smile. But then Tessa reminded me of why I’d been here in the first place and my smile grew even wider. “So, wanna tell me what you barged in here ranting about before you started your tirade on me and Marcus? I gave you that key for emergencies. Is there something you need to tell me?”

I found myself embarrassed by what I had to admit, yet I was giddy and couldn’t stop smiling, thinking about the way Beck had made me feel. But Tessa only knew him as Marcus’s friend—his
not single
friend. She would judge me for being with Beck, knowing he had a girlfriend.

And what about me being the world’s
biggest
hypocrite? After the ass-chewing I’d just given her and Marcus—hadn’t I’d done the exact same thing in reverse? I was probably about to get a well-deserved ass-chewing of my own. Pushing away the guilt, I feigned ignorance and played the drunk card. “I—shit, I was so dumb.” My head dropped into my hands, trying to hide my embarrassment,
and
the big smile that just wouldn’t go away. “I slept with Beck last night.”

“You
what
?”

I’d never heard Tessa shriek that loud. In fact, I was pretty sure her own son hadn’t either, because at the sound of her shrills Luca was in tears.

“Oh, Luca. Don’t cry, baby.” I stood up to take him out of his high chair, but Tessa clamped a hand on my shoulder, pushing me back down.

“Oh, no. Not so fast. I’ve got him. You talk.”

 

 

 

So, now I was supposed to feel guilty, right? Was I supposed to call Marissa and tell her I made a mistake and that I was sorry for acting out my anger with a revenge fuck? Problem with that was—I didn’t feel one ounce of remorse. Not one.

This was what
she
wanted. Marissa needed a break from me, and while we were on that break I should be able to do whatever and
whomever
I wanted. I didn’t need to explain myself to her anymore. She had no right texting and calling me like a nagging mother—she’d given up on us. Didn’t she have some studying to do or something?

So, after I made my way across town to my apartment and took a quick shower to wash off the night before, I dialed Marissa’s number with pure ambivalence.

“Hi,” she answered on the first ring.

“Hi. Everything okay?” I didn’t want to care, but I did. You couldn’t just turn off your love for someone.

“Yes. I tried calling you last night and when you didn’t answer I stopped by, but you never came home. I’m not judging or even asking for an answer to where you were, but—can I come over? I want to talk.” For the first time since she told me she needed a break, I could sense the urgency in her voice.

Maybe she wanted to come over to apologize and admit that she was overreacting when she broke up with me. That was all fine and dandy, except for the fact I’d just spent a really incredible night with my best friend’s sister. It had me thinking things I wasn’t sure I should be thinking.

I didn’t owe Riley anything after one time together, but by the same token, I promised I’d call her. I wasn’t going to hurt Riley Grayson. She was one of my oldest friends. She didn’t deserve to be treated as a rebound fuck because she wasn’t.

In fact, I wondered exactly what these thoughts were stirring up in my brain. I found myself replaying our night together with a huge smile on my face. And it wasn’t just because of the smoking sex with a beautiful woman. Even in a drunken haze, we shared something that needed to be explored again. I wanted another shot with Riley.

So, where did that leave me with Marissa?

Regardless of my newfound interest in Riley, I gave in to Marissa’s request. “Sure, come over. I’m here.” I had no idea how this would play out, but I owed it to Marissa—and myself—after two years of being together.

When the doorbell rang, it was nothing like all the times before. In the past, when I was expecting a visit from Marissa I was actually giddy—yes, giddy—with anticipation. We rarely ever fought because there wasn’t much time to do that. I worked crazy shifts at the firehouse and with her studying for the bar, lately we were lucky if we saw each other once a week. That worked for us. It made everything better when we did get to see each other. But I guess it was my stupid mistake for wanting to spend even
more
time with my girlfriend. Asking her to move in obviously wasn’t on her radar. Her wanting a break wasn’t on mine. But since that conversation a few days ago, a lot had changed and I wasn’t exactly feeling all warm and tingly when I opened the door.

“Hi,” she murmured. I could tell by the puffiness of her face and the redness in her eyes that she’d been crying.

“Hey,” I said back, gesturing for her to come in. I was harboring so many emotions it was hard to react. I didn’t like to see her upset, but I was hurt over the way we’d left things. Seeing her made it sting even more. But what was worse was the guilt that crept its way in. I didn’t know what the reason for her being here was, but I wouldn’t be able to lie to her if she asked questions.

And she wasted no time rambling them off. “Where were you last night? Why didn’t you answer my calls? I think I made a mistake, Beck. Do you think we made a mistake?”

Whoa.
Way to get right to the point. “Ris, calm down,” I coaxed her, ushering her into the living room. “Why don’t you sit on the couch and relax? I’ll make you a cup of coffee and we’ll talk.” One of us had to be rational, otherwise this would be harder than it had to be. I just hoped I could do this the right way.

She simply nodded as she wiped away her tears. I turned my back to head into the kitchen.

I’d been making her coffee for two years. Cream and two sugars, with one ice cube so she didn’t burn her mouth. It occurred to me that I really did know everything about Marissa, except when it came to our future. I knew all her quirky, beautiful ins and outs—the way her feet rubbed together like a cricket’s right before she fell asleep, the way her tongue crept out of the side of her mouth while she furiously wrote notes while studying, the way she sang terribly off-key in the shower when she was happy. I knew all those things and so many more, so how could I have missed that the two of us were not on the same page when it came to moving in?

Maybe part of me was an ignorant ass to not see this coming all along. She’d never really talked about marriage and always brushed off the idea of kids, but I still assumed she saw a future with me and that taking the next step would make her happy. I never imagined it would freak her out and have her second-guessing what I believed was a perfect relationship.

The refrigerator hummed in the quiet kitchen as I plopped the ice cube in the mug. It was my turn for second-guessing. I might not have been so keen on the break when she dropped that bomb on me the other night, but being with Riley made things different. Was it shitty that sleeping with another girl made me realize this? Maybe. But it wasn’t just that. Being with Riley made me question things about my relationship with Marissa. I wasn’t the cheating kind, and even though it wasn’t
technically
cheating, I wouldn’t have been so quick to jump in someone else’s bed if I didn’t have my own doubts about my future with Marissa.

Walking into the living room, balancing our Saturday morning coffee in my hands, I knew what I had to do. It wouldn’t be easy since I figured she was here to convince me otherwise, but suddenly I needed this break as much as she did.

 

 

“You slept with someone?” she cried, jumping out of her seat on the couch. “We were broken up all of forty-eight hours and you fucked another girl? Beck, how could you?”

I glared at her from where I sat, realizing that my honesty might not have been the best segue into telling her our break was a good idea. I reached for her arm to pull her back down to her seat, but she yanked it away from me.

“Marissa, please. Can you sit down and let me talk to you?”

“This is unbelievable. I just can’t believe—I’m not sure I want to hear what else you have to say. You’re obviously not the man I thought you were if you need to go out and fuck away our issues.”

What I took from that wasn’t sadness, jealousy, or even anger. I heard the truth behind her words. “So, you
are
admitting we have issues. Not to mention that if I’m not the man you thought
I
was, then you’re certainly not the woman I thought
you
were.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

I didn’t want this to turn into a brawl, but I needed to be honest. There were things that needed to be said. “It means when I asked you to move in, you fucking clammed up. Not only did you reject my invitation to take the next step, but you reminded me of all the times you’ve pushed away my hopes for the future.”

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