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On the inside of the bare ring finger of my left hand, my name is tattooed. And that reminds me that now, I belong only to myself. That my second chance is only one heartbeat away. I just have to not give up.
Now, if only I could find a way to murder that woman Stone brought here tonight and get away with it.
I ignore the stab of pain, the sense of betrayal, the melody that hurt plucks out on my heartstrings with the reckless abandon of fingers dancing across a guitar’s bridge.
I told him to move on.
So, why does it make me breathless with pain to find that he has?
I know that this is for the best. It’s just that… Stone Rivers stripped every shred of protection I put around my most tender places. And, my stupid heart hasn’t learned any of the lessons I’ve tried to teach it. It wants what it wants and when it comes to Stone, it has the allegiance of my body, too.
Feeling fortified and strong again, I head back out. I’m not going to sit there and watch Stone with another woman all night. I don’t need this shit. Stone can have his stupid little girlfriend.
With my equilibrium back in place, I walk back out to the backyard.
Memory Lane
Stone
Hayes and Confidence left a few minutes ago to relieve their babysitter, and he whispered, “You’re so fucked,” when he hugged me goodbye.
He was right.
Regan’s expression as she walks out of the house is a little terrifying. She’s grinning, but it’s more like a predator baring their teeth than a smile. Her dark brows are drawn low over eyes that look like they’re ready to shoot lightning.
I’ve always known she’s possessive and even though I feel a trickle of unease at the way she’s watching Celine, it’s nice to know that she’s jealous.
Because I am, too.
Of her brothers, of her friend Dina—even her clothes have earned my envy tonight. They all get to touch her, talk to her, tease her. And I have to sit here, watch it all, and pretend that’s not my girl.
And it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. If I could stop looking at her, it might be easier. But I can’t. I’m so greedy for the sight of her.
She’s wearing this scrap of blue fabric masquerading as a blouse. A delicate gold chain belt wraps around her tiny waist. Her little white shorts are probably illegal in some autocratic countries.
I can’t take my eyes off the supple, taut skin of her thighs as she walks right past me to sit next to her brother.
“Did I say you could smoke weed in my yard?” She shoots Tyson the middle finger before she sinks down next him.
“She gets passive aggressive when her feelings are hurt. It’s her tell.” Tyson says, laughing through a haze of smoke from the joint he’s just fired up.
“I am not being passive aggressive. Why are you such a traitor?” Regan asks and splashes him with water.
He just laughs and continues to poke at her. “She’ll never actually say that she’s upset.”
“Tyson, that is a lie,” Regan says, her indignation real, this time.
Tyson’s grin only grows more mischievous. “No, it’s not. I’m not judging you, Reggie. We’re all friends here, right, Stone?”
I narrow my eyes at Tyson’s cajoling tone. “Right.” But without any of the humor he’s exhibiting.
“How about everyone tell me how you know each other,” Celine says in a singsong voice, taking the joint from Tyson and taking an impressive draw.
“Why don’t you start since you’re so new?” Regan answers with a singsong that’s just a touch shy of being mocking.
Celine’s smile widens. “Okay! Well, I moved here to work with Teach for America after I graduated from BU. I’m so glad I joined that gym. I’ve had the hardest time making friends with anyone but work people.”
“What’s wrong with work people?” Regan asks, grabbing the joint which had worked its way to Dina.
