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Aha. No wonder Chris was in a bad mood. He was feeling rejected. Rick could empathize with that.
“I wish I had that problem,” Jared said from the couch.
Both Rick and Chris sat bolt upright.
“Marissa wants to marry you?”
“I don’t know.” Twirling the empty beer bottle in his hand, Jared scowled at it. “She bought a wedding magazine. It’s underneath my bed. I wish she’d taken it with her. I think she’s hinting.”
Since he wasn’t look at them, it was easy for Rick and Chris to exchange looks. Holy shit. Rick knew Jared felt responsible for Marissa, and he had loved her at one point... but he couldn’t possibly be thinking about actually marrying her and living in this misery for the rest of his life... could he? Surely emotional blackmail could only go so far.
“Are you going to?” Chris asked tentatively.
It wasn’t often Jared opened up about the issues in his relationship, because he knew exactly how his friends felt about Marissa and sharing tended to only make things worse. Especially since he kept getting back with her even when they did break up for short periods of time.
“Fuck no,” Jared said, his scowl getting even darker. But he still hadn’t taken his eyes off the beer bottle, rather than looking at either of them. “I’d rather swallow a bottle of pills myself.”
From the bewildered look on Chris’ face, Jared hadn’t shared that particular story with him. Rick grimaced, searching for something to say which would deflect attention from what, to Chris, probably sounded like a weird declaration. Fortunately, Chris unintentionally did it for him.
“Sooo... why are you still with her?” Chris asked slowly, looking between Jared and Rick, as if searching for clues. His dark eyes were concerned, at least he wasn’t looking quite so melancholy about his own issues now.
“I think it’s just habit,” Jared said, shrugging. He slumped back against the couch, his eyes looking slightly reddened and very tired. “Habit... and she won’t let me go. But I don’t fight it very hard either.”
“In vino veritas,” Rick murmured. Chris gave him a sharp glance, but Jared didn’t appear to hear him.
The giant man looked surprisingly small, hunched in on himself in the center of the couch. He looked lost. Drunk… small and lost. It was almost humbling, because Rick had never seen Jared like this.
Shit... is this were a mismatched BDSM relationship led? Maybe he should just leave Maria the fuck alone. Lifting his own beer to his lips, Rick took a long swallow.
Monday morning hangovers were the worst. Justin had picked up Chris at some point, but Rick had stayed the night. Commiserating. Supporting. Jared had gotten drunk off of his ass, and then they’d gone out to the parking lot and burned the wedding magazine Marissa had left. He didn’t know how sober-Jared would feel about that, but drunken-Jared had been downright gleeful.
It blew Rick’s mind that Jared could stay in a relationship where he was so twisted around and unhappy, but that was the danger of someone like Marissa. Who was willing to use all the intimate things she’d learned about Jared to hold onto him. Sometimes Rick thought Jared was her safety net, her anchor in a world where she was constantly taking risks for her future. It was a shitty fucking situation for Jared. Marissa was a downright bitch for putting him in this position and using emotional blackmail to keep him there.
He and Jared had gone to a diner down the street and had an extremely greasy breakfast and about a gallon of coffee before Rick finally felt up to heading back home. Jared seemed surprisingly even-keeled considering his misery the night before and the fact his head must be pounding even more than Rick’s. When Rick left, Jared was laid out on his couch, one arm flung over his head and his eyes closed, resting.
Rick couldn’t wait to get home and do the same.
Fortunately, it was only about a ten-minute drive. His hangover was bad enough he really shouldn’t be on the road for even that long, but he forced himself to stay as alert as possible until he finally managed to pull into a parking space in front of his building. Blissfully close to the stairs.
The day was just starting to heat up and he groaned as he shut the door of his car, leaning against it for support for a moment. Just a moment, before he could drag himself up to his apartment and collapse again. He hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep the night before.
“Rick?”
The soft feminine voice was tinged with shock. Great. Just what he needed right now. And yet he couldn’t stop the stupid grin from spreading across his face as he looked up at his sweet little tease. The woman who’d driven him to this state.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
He looked awful. And gorgeous. At the same time. That just wasn’t fair.
This morning she’d come out to the pool, forcing herself not to look to see if he was there until she’d gotten onto the pool deck. Leaving it up to fate, since she’d come down later than she had been when she’d been getting up to meet him. He hadn’t been there. She’d been both disappointed and relieved. She still didn’t know what she wanted from him, she just hadn’t been able to stay away. Right now she just wanted to talk, see where things led now that she had a better idea of what he expected from a romantic relationship. Maybe test if the knowledge changed the way she interacted with him.
Yesterday had been too soon, but today she’d felt mostly ready. And then he hadn’t been there.
Now he was standing in front of her, well leaning really, all scruffy and red-eyed, and still achingly attractive. He looked like he had the hangover from hell, but even that couldn’t stop the sex appeal. How did he do that?!
He stumbled forward, and Maria immediately scooted to catch him. Scruffy blond hair covered his jawline, slightly darker on the underside, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him.
“Gotcha.”
