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I wondered if that was true. Kristen and Evan had been around the block but never committed to each other.
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Recreationally?” Testing the word out, Hunter smiled at me between a bite of his mozzarella stick juicing down his chin when I handed him a napkin. We made an even exchange when he handed me the other half. Without thinking I took it, eating it and savoring the cheese while Brittany gave me the death glare. I was guessing that Miss Marbles didn’t like that either, oh well.
“Whatever.” Damien tipped his drink back, but I knew he never liked Evan Rooney. They fought in high school and gave each other the stink-eye every chance they got. It probably didn’t help that Evan was the high school quarterback their senior year and went on to the police academy just upping the ante between them.
“Don’t be such a snowflake about it,” Hunter teased him as Damien tossed a piece of bacon from the potato boat, hitting his shoulder. No one should waste bacon that carelessly in my opinion. Damien Hart was a Bacon Waster which was the equivalent of a felony in my mind.
Sighing, I let my fork do the talking and speared a second mozzarella stick into the marinara sauce. “I’m willing to let things happen as they should in due time.”
“Here’s to little Toolbox’s fine wisdom.” Damien raised a glass of beer, changing my name as usual.
I picked mine up to clink our glasses.
Hunter grunted, “Well, I’d be a little concerned for Taylor Jane seeing as how Jeremy Dolan almost killed her.”
“Yeah, he’s probably not a good match and, besides, you keep my spare EpiPens in your truck anyway.” We hooted a little more uneasily now. Leave it to Kristen to sour the evening with her deep existential thoughts.
“That reminds me to make sure they’re up to date.” Hunter sipped his beer again.
“I haven’t gotten a script in ages being so careful. Thanks for the reminder.” I pulled out my agenda book and added that to my to-do list.
“So that’s what that junk in your truck is for?” Brittany sneered and her face scrunched up, giving her a lemon looking pucker. At least her eyes weren’t rolling around, yet.
Hunter broke the uneasy silence by grumbling and nudging his date out of the booth to stand. “Anyway, Brit and I were just stopping in before hitting the movies. Come on, Brit, let’s go.”
I was sad to see them exit, or at least my best friend. The movies used to be our thing, the drive-in at Hyde Park across the river, but I guess now it was any girl’s thing with him. Hunter dropped a handful of twenties on the table that would more than cover the entire tab.
“Hunter, what the heck?” I grabbed the money before it fell in the blue cheese dip.
“I’m the accountant, thank you!” Kristen reached for the bills, and I handed them over to let her count them.
“No worries, Taylor Jane, that’s for the tab Damien and Kristen are likely to rack up.” He tilted his head and gave me a sobering dad voice that made a shiver work its way down my spine. “My treat, and drive home safe.” Hunter placed a hand on the smirking Brittany and gave her behind the momentum to keep going by prodding her along.
“Right, thanks, Hunter.”
Kristen and Damien traded quips with Hunter before they left and I was staring into my drink that didn’t taste nearly as good as it did thirty minutes ago. Safe and soul mates… huh. I thought I knew what safe was; now I had a lot of things to think about watching my soul mate walk out of the bar with another woman gripping his hand tightly, leaving no room for me to squeeze in.
Maybe I should ask my doctor for an anti-EpiPen and just stab Miss Marbles with it?
It would seem my evenings were booked solid with whatever was up next on the Hallmark channel, sitting on the couch in my dad’s house listening to Kristen contemplate killing Demon repeatedly. Guess not much changed in ten years after all.
7
Hunter
I was glad to leave the bar after the probing questions, propelling Brit out the door with a touch to her hip. Cool sprinkles of rain tapped against my head and neck, bringing with it the beginnings of a headache. Weather like this triggered the flashbacks I worked hard to keep buried along with my temper. I looked up at the moon that seemed to be winking at me conspiratorially. The asphalt of the parking lot, darkened with dampness, and I heaved a weighted sigh. Everything felt heavier in the rain. My friends were good people, even Kristen, who was just being Kristen ribbing Damien and his harem—except she got me thinking in ways I tried long and hard to avoid.
Taylor Jane was off the table.
Completely.
She was never on the table—except when I wanted to fantasize about her and that was not happening. I hadn’t let that happen since prom, since my first deployment—shit, since the first night I knew she was back in town and hadn’t called me. It bruised my ego in ways I didn’t have words for, but it chaffed, honestly chaffed my ass because I wondered if I was the only one feeling this way all this time.
“Come on, let’s go.” I took Brit’s hand a bit more roughly than I intended and pulled her toward my truck now wet in the parking lot helping her get inside the cab. I jogged around the front and got in, starting it up and pulling out onto the street.
“In a hurry?” Her smirk irritated me but not enough to drive straight to her house. I headed for the movies close by instead of the drive-in I preferred in Poughkeepsie. That was my place with Taylor Jane and I wasn’t looking to encourage Brit any further tonight than a quick fuck if I could even manage that much interaction with her.
She was going to kill me working on this project. I had to physically remove Brittany and myself before things got really weird and Kristen started down memory lane once again. I knew Brit felt threatened by my close friendship with Taylor Jane, but we were friends, and always would be. I wouldn’t give her up, not even if I was in the desert without water. She was my oasis. It didn’t matter if I couldn’t have her and quench my decade long thirst. Brittany, on the other hand, was a woman I liked to have sex with when the need arose, and it did quite often, especially when my best friend was back in town flipping a house barely dressed for the job site.
