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My pulse is still fast, but less fast, and Amber is with me. Everything really is going to be okay.
I lived to see another day.
Chapter Six
Brody
I’VE BARELY LIFTED MY HEAD from the couch since Friday. What a fucking mess that day was. That pothead was lucky I didn’t help him meet Jesus. I smashed a few bongs, though, so that was satisfying.
After we got home that night, Amber thanked me for helping, then reminded me to stay out of Paige’s life. Apparently, I was being too friendly with her outside Josh’s apartment. Paige was having a bad trip. What was I supposed to do? Say, ‘Well, toughen up, buttercup, and let’s go.’? She clearly needed comfort and reassurance, and I wasn’t going to be a jerk and act like I didn’t care.
I do care. I’ll admit it. But only because I hate to see a woman discarded by some asshole of a man. Even though I keep things casual, I’m always a gentleman. I treat women with respect. No way in hell would I kick a woman out if she’s going through something and needs help. ‘No strings’ doesn’t mean treating women like trash.
I spent the entire weekend secretly seething about Josh. I wish weed was still illegal, so I could’ve gotten that douchebag arrested. Leaving Paige outside alone in that state…
While I seethed, my irrational sister ranted that the only reason she asked me to drive to Josh’s was because she’d had some drinks. That I did a good thing by confronting the guy, but I need to stop trying to be buddy-buddy with Paige. Somehow, my helping was good and bad simultaneously.
“Do you want to push me over the edge?” she yelled. “Because if you keep acting flirty with Paige, you will. The anniversary is coming up, and I do not need to worry about you with my best friend. She’s too important to me. You’ll only break her heart and hurt my relationship with her. I’ll get stuck in the middle and it’ll be one big cluster fuck I can’t handle right now.”
First, I’m not trying to start anything with Paige, only help as needed. And second, how was I flirting? She hugged me! Amber gets these ridiculous ideas in her head that circle around until she’s completely detached from reality.
The air is still tense between us, but it’ll smooth out. Eventually.
Now she’s on a self-care kick. She woke up Saturday and cleaned the entire kitchen and living room, filling the fridge with organic meat and produce. She even threw out my twenty-bucks-a-can craft brews. I checked the trash, but Frank had already rummaged through it. That beer is gone.
I know Amber has an addictive personality and wanted to remove all temptation, but she could’ve warned me. I would’ve been happy to spend the entire weekend drunk on quality beer. At least Frank got to enjoy them.
Today, she’s at the spa. She tried to invite Paige, but Paige scrunched her nose and made her phone say, “Ewwwww,” in an annoying Paris Hilton voice.
Paige isn’t acting like herself either. She’s been hiding, maybe recovering from what happened on Friday. She stays in her room and watches porn on her phone. I know because I hear it. It’s barely been a day and a half, but I already miss her dancing around the house like a raver.
I roll onto my side and hug a pillow while hockey plays on the TV. Guess this is a house of wayward adults dealing with shit their own way—alone. Fine. I don’t need to get involved in anyone’s business, and they don’t need to get involved in mine. But I’ve still got my eye on Amber. She’s making me wary the closer the anniversary gets.
On top of everything, I haven’t told her or Paige about Troy. Why am I acting like such a scared little boy?
Paige’s door creaks open, and then I hear flip-flops smacking down the hall. They stop behind the couch and some keys jangle. The next moment, she’s sitting on the back of the couch, staring down at me. I force myself not to look. I can only look in the vicinity of her braless chest so many times before I lose all sanity.
“Where do you need to go?”
I try to focus on hockey, to think about sports and dudes fighting. When I let my mind wander, I immediately return to how Paige’s face lit up when she saw me outside the stoner’s duplex. How she hugged me like she’d never let go. How soft and wonderful she felt in my arms.
I’m weak. That’s what this obsession with her is. A flaw in my programming.
“It’s cool if you take my car,” I say. “The game’s only on second period.” Yeah, like I care. This isn’t even national hockey.
She’s silent so long that I finally turn to see if she’s still there. Her torso towers above me, her concerned gaze fixed on the wall.
Her shoulders hunch, then she flashes a thin smile. The flip-flops smack their way to the kitchen. They move back and forth nonstop.
I lift my heavy bones into a sitting position. Paige keeps pacing around the table. What’s got her so jittery? “It’s really okay if you take my car.”
She eyes me like there’s something she’s holding back. Then her head shakes, and she moves to the hall.
I drag my hand through my hair. I can’t bear her looking so dejected. Cuts a hole right through me. “Wait. I can drive you. Let me get my shoes.”
