Colin
“What in the hell is she doing here, B?” I ask.
Brayden looks over at Laurel, standing in front of the jukebox as she picks out a new song, swaying to the music. She glances over her shoulder at me, giving me a wolfish smile.
“I'm keeping an eye on her,” Brayden says. “Like you told me to do.”
“And you had to bring her here?”
He shrugs. “It was either that or send her to the spa with Bailey and the girls,” he says. “I figured this was the lesser of two evils.”
I sigh. He's got a point. The last thing I want is for Bailey to be trapped somewhere with Laurel. I know how evil she is, and how she'd try and tear Bailey down. It's not an ideal situation, but I guess it’s the best we can do.
Turning, I join my other brothers at the bar. They're laughing hysterically about something that happened more than twenty years ago – as if it had just happened.
“You boys need some new material,” I say. “Oh wait, don’t they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks?”
“Oh, little brother's got jokes,” Liam says. “Funny boy.”
“Funny looking, maybe,” Aidan chimes in.
“I think he looks just fine,” Laurel purrs as she saunters over. “Better than fine, actually.”
She runs her fingertips across my back as she passes by and slips onto a stool on the other side of Aidan. An awkward silence suddenly descends over the group as everyone decides this is a good time to take a long, hard swallow of beer. Way to kill a good mood, Laurel. But then again, she's always been good at that.
“So, anyway,” Liam says, trying to break the sudden tension. “What about you and Bailey? How'd you two kids meet?”
“Probably at the organic farmer's market buying patchouli soap,” Laurel cracks.
I ignore her and stick to the script I came up with. “At an art gallery opening,” I say. “She was exhibiting. I was really struck by her work –”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Aidan says, laughing. “When did you become an art aficionado?”
“Not all of us are uncultured heathens like you, dear brother,” I say.
“No, not all of us,” Brayden says. “But you always were. The closest thing you ever got to art was Japanese anime back in high school.”
The three of them break into laughter, howling like it's the funniest thing they've ever heard. I just roll my eyes but can't keep the grin off my face. My brothers are clowns. Always have been, always will be. Life with them was always a three-ring circus. Some things have never changed. Some things, I hope never do.
“How did I know she was an artist?” Laurel says.
“Gee, Laurel,” I snap, “I don't know. How did you know?”
She shrugs. “She just gives off that granola hipster vibe, I guess,” she says. “So, does she work in finger-paints or paint-by-numbers?”
My face flushed, my temper flaring, I round on her. “What the fuck is your problem?” I nearly shout. “You don't even know her. Who the fuck are you to judge her?”
The bar goes deathly silent, and all eyes turn our way. Brayden steps between us. He grabs Laurel by the arm, practically dragging her out of the bar, and out onto the sidewalk. I can see them arguing through the window.
“Yeah, about that,” Liam says. “I'm sorry, little brother. I didn't know –”
I wave him off. “Not your fault,” I say. “Not Brayden's fault either. His heart was in the right place. He’s right, you know. It’s what Dad would have done. He would have told me to suck it up and deal with it for a day. He thought of the Fredericksons as family, and he always taught us to never turn your back on family.”
Liam nods. “Unfortunately, that’s true,” he says.
“I personally can't believe that Dad would have kept a place at the table for her,” Aidan says. “Not after what she did.”
Liam shrugs. “Yeah, he would've. The Fredericksons were practically family to him,” he says. “And you know that when it came to family, Dad was loyal to a fault.”
Brayden and a very sulky Laurel come back into the bar. Brayden pats me on the shoulder and murmurs an apology in my ear as he takes his spot next to Liam. Laurel drops down onto the stool beside Aidan again and takes a drink, staring down into her glass, but says nothing. Her silence is a marked improvement from before, at least.
The four of us spend the next couple of hours drinking and catching up, reminiscing about old times, and generally, having a lot of fun. Just like the old days, when we were young and constantly running around together. Good times. The older we get, the more I miss those days.
As brilliant as I think our dad was for dividing the company the way he did, ensuring there would be no fighting amongst the four of us for control, he also did us a huge disservice. By having the four of us run four separate slices of the company, spread out over the continental U.S., he also ensured that we wouldn't be together in the same place all that often.
By trying to save the family, he ended up blowing us all apart.
At least we have times like these where we can get together. Maybe, we even appreciate each other more knowing that our time together is scarce. That scarcity of time together, might be what makes it all the more precious to us.
“How far along is Paige?” I ask.
Liam cocks his head. “Three months, I think,” he says. “About that.”
“First one married, last one with a kid,” Aidan says. “I guess the old man's gun is firing more blanks than live rounds these days, eh?”
Liam cuffs him behind the ear but laughs anyway. “Bunch of damn comedians, all of you,” he smirks. “And technically speaking, I'm not the last one with a kid, if you peckerheads stop and think about it.”
And just like that, they all turn and stare at me. I feel like a damn bug pinned to a board with the way the four of them are looking at me. Check that, my brothers are looking at me while Laurel is glaring daggers.
“Yeah, you’re a bit premature here, fellas,” I say. “Hey, isn't that how you ended up with a kid, Brayden?”
“Funny man,” he says, laughing as he punches me in the shoulder.
“Seriously, Bailey and I haven't even been together a year,” I say, knowing it hasn’t even been two months yet. “Let's not rush into anything, okay?”
“That's our baby brother,” Liam says. “Always last in everything.”
I punch him in the side, which makes him double over, and the rest of us howl with laughter.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh it up, jackasses,” I say, grinning. “I'll be right back.”
I set my glass down on the bar and make my way down the long corridor to the bathrooms at the end. I step inside and go to the sink. It's been a while since I've had this much to drink, and I'm feeling the effects. I'm kind of lightheaded and my eyes are glassy. Buzzed. Definitely glad I have my driver waiting out there to cart us around later.
I bend down and am splashing water on my face in. when the door opens behind me. There are a couple of other sinks, so I don't have to worry about monopolizing this one to help me sober up a bit. When I feel a hand on my ass, I jump up quickly and spin around – and find myself face-to-face with Laurel.
“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” I growl.
“Reminiscing,” she purrs. “I remember how you felt when you were inside of me. Do you remember that, baby?”
“I try not to,” I say. “Because every time I think of you, the only image that pops into my head is my old friend drilling you from behind.”
“He meant nothing to me,” she says. “He really didn't. I was bored, he was there –”
“He was there for about a year,” I say. “Most of the time, when somebody's that bored, they can find a hobby other than fucking their fiancée’s best friend.”
“I made a mistake, Colin,” she pleads. “A terrible mistake. And I've been paying for that mistake all these years. Can't you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
“Sure, I forgive you,” I say. “Doesn't mean I want anything to do with you though.”
Laurel flashes me a salacious grin before sliding her hand down and clumsily grabbing my dick through my jeans. A grin that I know means she's taking this as a challenge. A game. I grab her hand and yank it off me.
“Don't ever fucking touch me again, Laurel,” I snap. “Ever. You got me?”
“Why are you playing so hard to get, Colin?” she whines. “You know how good we were together. You know we belong together. More than you and that short hipster girl ever will.”
Listening to her casually dismiss Bailey really pisses me off. The anger inside of me swells to dangerous levels, and I know I need to get out of the bathroom. As if sensing my intentions, Laurel rushes to the door and throws herself in front of it. She reaches behind her and locks it. Not that it will do much good. I'll just move her.
“You put your hand on me again, and I swear to God, I'll start yelling rape,” she warns, her voice low.
That's such a low-class move that I have no trouble believing she'd actually do it. I lean back against the sink and fold my arms over my chest.
“What the fuck do you want from me?” I ask.
“You, Colin,” she says. “That's all I ever wanted.”
“Except for my buddy, and whoever else you were banging at the time.”
“I made a mistake,” she cries. “I'm not perfect. I fucked up, Colin. I'm sorry.”
“Yeah, I heard it all before,” I say. “Still not interested. We done here?”
“You know she's not good enough for you,” she says. “That ridiculous wannabe, hack artist. You know she can’t satisfy you the way I used to.”
A cruel grin stretches the corners of my mouth. “You're definitely right about that, Laurel. She can't satisfy me the way you used to.”
I see a flicker of hope in her eyes and a smile begins to form upon her lips.
“She satisfies me so much more than you ever did,” I say, reveling in watching her face completely fall flat. “She satisfies me in ways you never could have, because unlike you, she's a generous lover. She's not selfish.”
“Screw you, Colin,” her voice booms, echoing loudly around the small bathroom.
“Not even if you paid me, Laurel.”
I slip my phone out of my pocket and call up Brayden’s contact on my favorites list. Laurel looks at me with a mixture of pain, rejection, and horror on her face. Brayden picks up on the first ring.
“Hey, B,” I say. “You need to come get your girl. She’s locked me in the bathroom with her and won’t let me out.”
I disconnect the call and drop the phone in my pocket, folding my arms across my chest again, as I wait for the cavalry to arrive. Tears streak down Laurel's cheeks as she looks at me with undisguised contempt.
“What the hell happened to you?” she sneers.
“I grew up,” I say. “I moved on. Clearly, you didn't.”
“Fuck you, Colin.”
All I can do is laugh and shake my head. Brayden knocks on the door, and for a moment, I'm half-convinced that Laurel isn't going to unlock it and let me leave. But, she eventually relents, and unlocks the door. Brayden steps inside, and steps between us. I use the distraction to slip behind the both of them, and head out of the bathroom.
I walk back through the bar, pulling my phone out again. I stop at the bar where Liam and Aidan are still drinking and yakking it up.
“Hey guys,” I say. “I'm going to call another car and head home.”
“What?” Liam asks. “Why? There's still plenty of daylight left to burn.”
Brayden and a very sullen Laurel emerge from the bathroom, and walk over to us. Laurel follows a step or two behind Brayden, looking like a child who's just gotten one hell of a verbal spanking.
“Because I'm not going to spend any more of my free time with her,” I say, nodding over at the approaching leggy blonde. “I'd rather spend my time with people who actually deserve it. So, I'll see you back at my place in a bit.”
I walk away from my brothers just as Laurel and Brayden reclaim their spots at the bar. More and more people are starting to filter in, so it looks like I picked the right time to bail anyway. I might be going through a lot of changes, but one thing that hasn't changed is that I still detest crowds.
I step out of the bar, and into the cool evening air, doing my best to regain my composure, and push everything that just happened out of my head. For good.
* * *
I'm sitting in the kitchen, having a cup of coffee and reading a book, doing my best to enjoy the quiet and solitude of my home while the girls are out on their spa day, the children are with a nanny, and my brothers are still out at the pub. After leaving them, I decided to come home to unwind and relax for a bit. The scene with Laurel in the bathroom really keyed me up.
It sobered me up real quick, and forced me to stop drinking, so at least I'm not going to spend the rest of the day drunk or dealing with a hangover. Silver linings. You have to take them where you can find them sometimes.
A few minutes later, the front door bursts open, and the loud, booming voices of my brothers echo throughout the house. I close the book with a sigh, setting it down on the table. The fact that they’re home means Laurel is with them, which means things are going to be tense and awkward all over again.
Honestly, I should just put her back on the jet and send her home, avoiding any possible drama altogether. But then, as I ponder doing just that, I'm stabbed with a renewed sense of guilt all over again. I used to care about Laurel a great deal – I can't deny that. Our relationship eventually became toxic, like poison in my veins. But her family was always there for us growing up, and as much as I'd like to ignore it and send her away, I can't. I have too much of my father in me, apparently.
The click-clack of heels on the hardwood floor draws my attention, and when I look up, I see Laurel standing in the rounded archway of the kitchen. I feel my body tense, and the tide of anger, hot and explosive, begins rising in my body.
“What do you want?” I ask, my voice low and menacing.
Laurel crosses the kitchen, a sheepish, almost remorseful look on her face. I don't ask her to join me, but she sits down at the table across from me anyway, seemingly unable to meet my eyes. I pick up my coffee mug, and take a long swallow of the dark, rich brew, my eyes never leaving hers. She reaches out and drags my book over to her, a faint smile on her face as she reads the title.
Laurel finally looks up at me, and I can see her eyes are rimmed with red. She looks like she's been crying. Though, I've known her long enough, and well enough, to understand that Laurel is a fantastic actress, and can cry on command when she's trying to elicit a little extra sympathy. I wasn't kidding when I said the woman is a master manipulator. I sometimes used to wonder if she was a sociopath, honestly.
“Aren't you gonna offer me a cup of coffee?” she asks, her voice trembling.
“The pot’s over there,” I say coldly. “Help yourself.”
She leans back in her seat and seems to fold in on herself a little bit. I have to say, the expression on her face is one of pure misery. She looks distraught. But then, with Laurel, you never know what's real, and what isn’t. That's the problem with being a manipulative bitch – after people see you for what you actually are, they tend to not trust you.
“Listen,” she says. “I know you went out on a limb by inviting me here. And I know I've been a little shit since I arrived –”
“Yeah, just a little,” I scoff.
She winces as she silently absorbs another verbal blow. Seeing the look of misery on her face – though well-deserved – starts to make me feel a little guilty.
Damn, and I was just getting onto Brayden about being a soft touch.
“At the bar – I had a little too much to drink,” she says. “Combine that with being lonely and completely jealous, because even now, after all that's happened, I still want you. Anyway, I know that I acted inappropriately. I crossed the line and I know it. I'm sorry, Colin. I swear to you that it won't happen again.”
“It better not, Laurel,” I say. “I invited you into my home because of what your family meant to mine for all those years. This isn't about us anymore. Anything romantic between the two of us died a long time ago.”
“I know that. In my head, at least,” she says weakly. “But, in my heart, I still belong to you, Colin. And you still belong to me. All these years, knowing just how badly I screwed up – it's been slowly killing me. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I threw it all away.”
“Yes, you did,” I say. “But, it's probably for the best anyway. I don't think the two of us would have lasted, Laurel. We're just too different.”
She shakes her head. “That's not true, and you know it,” she says. “You and I were always good together. We'd still be good together.”
“I don't think so,” I say. “But, the point is completely moot anyway. It's not going to happen, so there's no use in even thinking about it anymore.”
She sniffs and wipes away the tears that roll down her cheeks. “I know,” she says. “And that's my fault.”
I let out a long breath. “At this point, it doesn't matter whose fault it was. All that matters is that we both carry on with our lives. Move forward and stop dwelling on the past. I have. You can too.”
She shakes her head. “I'll never find somebody like you, Colin.”
“You haven't even looked,” I say. “And besides, I'm just a guy. There are plenty of guys out there who would love to be with you. I know it.”
For the life of me, I can’t think of a single one. But then, I can’t say I know any masochists who like being used, abused, and cheated on. I suppose there might be somebody who fits that bill, though.
She sighs dejectedly, scrubbing a lone tear off her cheek.
“Let's just focus on having a nice Christmas together,” I offer. “We'll have some great food, open some gifts – let's have a great time as friends. What do you say?”
“I'd be okay with that,” she says. “So – you forgive me?”
I give her a small smile. “Sure,” I say. “Now, let's just focus on enjoying ourselves for the rest of the holidays.”
“I'd like that.”
“Good,” I reply. “Well, let's go and see what my brothers are doing, besides drinking all the best liquor in my cabinet.”
We're walking across the foyer together when the front door opens, and all of the girls come spilling through in a riot of laughter, their voices echoing all around us.
I turn to the doorway and see Bailey stepping into the house, and when our eyes meet, I can feel the tangible energy, maybe love, even, passing between us. I smile wider and have to resist the impulse to rush over, scoop her up, and keep her right beside me.
I hear a dismissive little snort, and don't need to turn to know that Laurel is walking away in a huff. Guess she wasn't really all that sorry after all.