CHAPTER TWELVE

James

“What’s new with you?” Barrett asks me after we get our drinks and place our food order.

This is supposed to be one of the best unknown steak houses in all of Michigan. So far, what I’ve seen is nothing but good things. I would love the chance to take Carly here soon.

“Just getting the house ready for the move since it sold so quickly, cleaning the apartment above Balance so I can move in.”

“Seen Carly since Christmas night?” he asks boldly.

“Umm,” I hesitate, not wanting the guys to hear much. Suddenly, I once again feel like I’m in high school.

Barrett waves Josh and Andy off. “Oh, please. Josh knows… well, about as much as I do because his wife is Lauren. Besides you’ve known him most our lives. And Andy?” He points to Andy, who I’ve met quite a few times, considering he’s one of their employees who’s been with them from the beginning.

“I left my wife after I caught her mounted up on a total Hummer-driving douche, and I haven’t seen her since.” He lifts his chilled glass of Shock Top in my direction then takes a big drink. He settles back into his seat and grins. “Tell me your story. Does love still exist?” he asks, teasing.

I stare at him, stunned by his honesty and a little shocked at the fact that he can be so open about it, not sounding bitter or pissed at all. “Are you…”

“Serious? As a heart attack. Fun times.”

I laugh, slightly uncomfortably, but yet feel a little bit of kinship with him. “I bet.”

“We know that Andy got screwed over, literally. And we know your wife screwed you over too, so you guys have that in common,” Josh says.

“Well, I didn’t have the fortunate experience of seeing her mount up, but I have no doubts it happened. But she’s not worth talking about. Not now, not in the future.”

“Got it,” Andy says and nods once. “You and Carly, huh?”

I sigh heavily and scrub my face with my hand. I don’t know how to begin this conversation, or even if I want to have it, but I think maybe it would be good to hear their insight. “I can honestly say I have no clue what’s happening with us. We hang out a lot. I mean, not as much as I’d like to, but still. And Jack is awesome. He’s such a cool kid — he and I are actually getting pretty close. But Carly? We talk every single day. Man, I don’t know. There’s something that spooked her. I know she’s attracted to me, but she swears she just wants friendship.”

“You’re not dating?” he asks as he takes another drink of his beer.

I look at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to figure out if he wants to know for personal reasons.

“Holy shit!” he says, laughing, almost spitting beer out of his mouth. “Did you see the look on his face?” he asks Barrett and Josh, who are chuckling behind their own glasses of beer.

“What look?” I ask.

“Right. You gonna piss a circle around her? Go all Tarzan and carry her off into a tree?”

“Shut up,” I say, laughing.

“Seriously, man, are you sure you guys aren’t together? It seems like you are. And Christine says she’s never seen her so happy.”

“Christine, huh?”

“Shut up.” Andy grins, repeating my words.

He might think that gets him off the hook but really it only shows me where his head is, whether or not the stuff with his wife just recently happened or not.

“I feel like I’m being bombarded with all this information. I don’t know what to focus on first,” Josh says.

“You’re worse than a chick,” Barrett guffaws.

“You’re just as bad as I am!”

Barrett ignores his comment and continues on. “We’re gonna get back to that ball you just dropped about Christine, by the way,” he says, pointing at Andy then shifts his gaze back to me. “Alright, so what’s up? You don’t want to just be her friend anymore?”

“Never did, honestly, but didn’t want to miss out on getting to know her, either. Friendship is better than nothing.” I shrug.

Our waiter brings our orders of New York strip and places family-style bowls of garlic mashed potatoes, bacon-wrapped asparagus, creamed spinach, and sautéed garlic mushrooms. My mouth immediately waters, and the conversation shifts to much lighter topics.

The guys go back to asking about my plans for the restaurant and apartment above it, and Andy explains his Christine-situation. From the sounds of it, she was there for him after he found his wife, Heather, having sex with another man. Considering that was only a few months ago, Andy and Christine aren’t dating but are spending time together, and he said the friendship is nice. I see it in his eyes, though. It’s the same I see when I look in the mirror. He wants more, but more than likely neither are ready for that yet.

Just as the waiter places our checks on the table, my phone lights up with a name I haven’t seen in a long time. I scrunch my eyebrows, wondering what Miguel from El Charro could possibly be calling about.

“Miguel, my man, what’s up?”

“James, friend,” he says, cracking up even as he says my name. “You may want to get yourself down here, and maybe bring your brother-in-law because your sister and her friends are three sheets to the wind.”

“No shit?” I say, laughing.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s funny as shit, but they’re getting a little…”

“Too much?” I ask.

“Well, not for us. Like I said, it’s funny, but yeah, the rest of the guests aren’t so sure,” he says, still laughing.

“Alright, I’ll be there in a few. Keep them calm, and maybe no more alcohol.”

“I’m not sure that’s going to fly with them, but I’ll try,” Miguel says.

“Oh great. Thanks, man. See you soon.”

“See ya,” he says and hangs up the phone.

“Well, boys, looks like we have a rescue mission.”

“Oh boy, now the whole Captain-America-thing is going to your head.” Barrett lightly shoves me.

“I take anything I can get from her.” I nod my head, grinning unashamed.

 

 

So many thoughts are flying through my head like stunt planes in an air show. I can’t decide which deserves the most attention.

She’s drunk.

She’s never been drunk before.

She said she wants to stay in the friend-zone.

Drunk Carly wants more than friendship.

Drunk Carly wants to lick me. Again.

Drunk Carly is all in.

Drunk Carly is full of lots of information.

Drunk Carly is puking all over the ground next to my car.

Drunk Carly is still the most beautiful woman in the world.

When Miguel, the owner of the El Charro restaurant I helped makeover last year, called to tell me my sister and her friends were well on their way to wasted and we needed to pick them up before they caused a scene — a bigger scene, that is — I had no idea her friends included Carly. I just told the guys that we needed to get over there and save the girls. Barrett hauled ass to his pickup mumbling something about a fine line, and that he wasn’t going to waste whatever buzz Tess had going on. Since I didn’t have any desire to know what he meant by wasting the buzz, I just got in my Grand Cherokee, figuring I’d help Barrett and Josh with their crazy wives when I got there.

I opened the restaurant door and saw several of the waiters laughing and watching the show. The show that was Drunk Carly, Tess, Lauren and Christine. I stood stock-still at the scene before me. Carly had her head on the table, Tess and Lauren were slow dancing together, and Christine had her phone held up in the air playing “Everything” by Lifehouse. Josh, Barrett, and Andy came barreling in after me, then ran into my back, sending me a few steps forward.

“What the…” Barrett asked.

“Yup. That’s about it.” I nodded.

“What are they…” Josh asked.

“No clue.”

“Shouldn’t they have been cut off?” Andy held his hands out in question.

“Absolutely.”

Tess saw Barrett and threw her arms in the air then rushed toward him, jumped into his arms and wrapped herself around him like a monkey. “Hey, baby! We had margaritas!”

“I see that. And an entire bottle of tequila?”

“No straight tequila. Fine line hasn’t been crossed. I promise,” she said, crossing her heart.

“Let’s get you some water before you trip over that line, shall we?” He chuckled.

She nodded her head and released her hold on him then looked over at me and pointed to Carly.

“What happened?”

“Margaritas and fajitas?” she said and shrugged like that made any sense.

I stepped over toward their table, which seemed to be littered with quite a few empty pitchers. I heard Carly mumbling and saying that someone has beautiful blue eyes and scruff she wants to lick. It didn’t take a genius to realize she was talking about me.

I glanced up to see Andy crouched next to Christine, running his fingers through her hair, while she looked precariously close to throwing up, and Josh and Barrett were frantically throwing money down on the table as they tried to get their wives to the door quickly.

The four of them stood next to the table, the girls looking guilty.

“How much did she have to drink?” I asked them, trying not to growl and show my frustration.

“Not nearly as much as the rest of us,” Tess said.

“She doesn’t drink. Like ever.”

“Whoops,” Lauren said, wringing her hands together.

Barrett leaned in close to me. “Need help with that?”

“Nah, I got her.”

“Yeah. Yeah you do,” he said, and if I wasn’t holding a completely drunk Carly, who had never been drunk before in her life, in my arms, I would have shaken his hand because that small statement is exactly what I needed to hear.

As I’m walking her to my SUV, watching Carly closely and head reeling from all the information I’d learned, I hear the tell-tale signs of a return trip of the margaritas she consumed tonight happening. I gently set her on her feet about two seconds before she drops to her knees and starts throwing up in the parking lot.

I open the back door and reach into the back seat of my car and grab an old sweatshirt off the seat and a bottle of water that I had in a cooler. When it looks like she’s about emptied her stomach, I hand her the water after using the sleeve of the sweatshirt to wipe her mouth.

She smiles shyly up at me. “Here, take a drink. It will make you feel better,” I tell her.

“No more drinks,” she mumbles as she shakes her head lightly.

“Water, beautiful. It’s just water,” I assure her.

She nods and takes a small drink. “Ugh. Why do people do this?”

“Jury’s still out on that one.” I chuckle.

She looks at me with wide eyes and gasps then points at me. “Hey, when did you get here?” she asks, making me grin. “And why are you here?”

“I got here a little bit ago. Miguel, the owner of this fine establishment, called me to let me know you guys may have had a few too many.”

“Ugh. I feel awful. He probably hates us. I have a feeling we weren’t very quiet, and I swear I saw your twin inside.”

“My twin, huh? Didn’t know I had one.”

She stares at me as understanding dawns in her eyes. “Oh shit.”

“Oh shit?”

“Yeah. Oh shit. Why can I never keep my mouth shut around you? I’m such an idiot.” She groans and puts her head on her knees now that she’s sitting on her butt, dangerously close to the vomit puddle.

“Let’s move out of here, shall we?” I help her stand up. She’s leaning against me, my arm around her waist. “And, you’re not an idiot. I can promise you that.”

“I’m not?” She looks up at me and bites the corner of her lip.

“No, baby,” I promise her and watch her eyes soften as she smiles lightly before she frowns.

“I don’t feel very good.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” I chortle. “Let’s get you home.”

Fifteen minutes later, I’m pulling into her driveway. I texted Jack before we left the restaurant to let him know he needed to let me in when he saw me pull up. As soon as I get out of the car, Jack steps out onto the front porch. I look over at the snoring Carly and wince, hating that he’s going to see her like this.

“What happened?”

“My sister and her friends happened.”

“What?” he asks, laughing.

“Well, your mom may have had a few too many margaritas tonight.”

He raises his eyebrows at me with wide eyes. “No way. Mom doesn’t drink like that.”

“Yeah, I know. So it could be ugly.”

“Well shit.”

I find it funny that he uses the curse word when his mom’s not coherent. “That’s about it.”

I walk around to the passenger door and lift Carly out, cradling her against my chest. I wrap her arms around my neck since she’s like a limp rag.

She nuzzles her nose into my neck then mumbles a little bit, but it’s nothing that I can decipher.

“I’ve never seen her like this,” Jack says, fighting a smile as he holds the front door open for me to carry her in.

“No?”

“Um, no. Mom isn’t the let-it-loose-over-margaritas-type.”

“Yeah, I kind of gathered that.”

I lay her on the couch and remove her fuzzy boots. I knew that she had a class this afternoon, and now I’m glad she did. Yoga gear is definitely more comfortable to pass out in, which she’s already done.

Jack comes into the living room and sets a trashcan by her head and sits down on the coffee table. He looks her over then glances up at me.

“Is she going to be okay?”

I take a seat on the chair and nod my head. “Yeah, bud. She will. She’ll probably feel like crap tomorrow, but she’ll be okay. I guess it’s a good thing y’all are on Christmas break, huh?”

“Definitely. But that’s not what I meant.”

“She’ll be okay,” I promise him.

He stares at me for a while and shifts in his seat before lowering his eyes. He leans over, resting his elbows on his knees, and clasps his hands together in front of him. He chews on his bottom lip, no doubt a trait he picked up from his mom.

“You know, when we relocated here, everything had happened so fast. We just had to get out of there. We had to. We came here, and it’s been great. And then, well, we kept moving forward. Never thinking about it or talking about it, really.”

He’s looking at his mom, but wherever his mind is, it’s definitely not here. I don’t want to go behind Carly’s back and talk about their past, but it’s clear that Jack needs to talk to someone, and I don’t want to stop him.

“He was such a bastard,” he says, his voice low and angry.

What. The. Hell?

My fists clench, jaw tightens, and anger courses through my veins so rapidly that my heart starts racing, and my breathing goes shallow. The room feels like it’s heating up as I try to remain calm. I stay seated, though what I really want to do is stand up and pace.

“I always had this feeling, you know?” he says as he looks from his mom to me and back at her again. “I mean, I wasn’t stupid because obviously, I lived there. And there were these times that I heard things. I hoped it wasn’t that way, but she always tried to shield me from it. Always. And I get it. I really do. I’m her kid, her only child. She’s one of those moms that you just know would go all mama bear on anyone she thought was hurting her son. She’d take a bullet to the heart or a thousand beatings before letting it come at me. But I couldn’t… I just couldn’t, James.”

He looks in my direction again and that’s when I know he needs me to hear whatever is about to come out of his mouth. As much as it angers me to hear what I’m hearing, I do my best to keep a straight face.

“That’s why I introduced her to Tate, you know. She needed that, to realize that she was stronger than anyone gave her credit for. Especially him. She’s fierce, man. I mean, you’ve seen her in there. She has this kick that can take a grown man down like that,” he says, snapping his fingers, smiling slightly. “And it’s so awesome. To see that. To see that she can defend herself. Because at one point, she couldn’t. And I couldn’t. But never again. Never again, James,” he repeats and starts shaking his head. He looks at me, and tears have filled his eyes. “I won’t let it happen. I won’t let some man come in and bring her down.”

“Jack…”

“No. Just listen to me.” His voice has gone hard, and he’s angrily swiping away a tear that escaped. I nod my head for him to continue. “I love that she’s opening herself up to you. For a long time, it was just her and me. She’s the best person in my life, James. She’s my only family. You don’t know what it was like. To see the person you love most in the entire world… and I already told you I approve of you. I already told you that I think you’re a good guy. I was being honest. It’s not about that. I want her happy and feeling safe more than anything. But seeing her like this?” he says, pointing to her lying on the couch, a trail of drool coming out of her mouth. Even drunk off her ass, she’s beautiful.

“This makes me scared. I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. Something triggered her to get to this point because my mom? She doesn’t drink. Her mom…”

I pause, wondering if it will bother him to know she and I spoke about it, but I want the honesty to stay open between us so I let it out. “I know. She told me.”

“Then you know this isn’t like her.”

He’s definitely not lying there.

“No, you’re right about that.”

“So, tell me — why now? In all of her forty-two years, she’s never once gotten drunk, but knowing you for a few weeks, and that goes out the window?”

I wish I had a good explanation for him, but in the end, he wants the truth, so I give it to him. “She’s falling for me, or maybe already has, and it scares her.”

He looks at me with his eyebrows drawn close and sits up. “What?”

“Jack, I assume you want truth from me, yeah?”

“That’d be good.”

“I’m falling for your mom in a big way. Like in an I can see a forever with her kind of way. And I know that she’s right there with me. But, like I said, it scares her. I don’t know your story. Not fully anyway. I’ve gathered some stuff, assumed things… but you know what they say about assuming. And I really, really hope I’m wrong about everything I think I know, but I’m afraid that I’m right,” I say to him.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and nods faintly.

“Jack, I think tonight was your mom letting it all out. And not that I like seeing her like this, but maybe it’s a good thing. Maybe she needed to have a night where she let herself…”

“Get wasted?”

“Well, yeah. Not really, but yeah. Am I making any sense?”

I am messing this up so badly.

“Kind of.”

“Here’s the deal. Whatever happened for you two before you moved here shifted something in your mom. And not to sound cocky, but ever since she met me, she’s been allowing parts of herself she’s kept hidden for so long to shine through.”

“I see that,” he says as he gazes at his mom passed out on the couch. “So, uh, this is kind of awkward. I mean, no more awkward than asking for kissing tips, but still… I don’t really know what to do here. I’ve never been around a drunk person before.”

“That’s good news,” I tell him, grinning. “I’ll help you get her to her room, then I’ll sleep on the couch. I’d like to be here in case she needs me. If that’s okay with you, that is. Not that I don’t trust you to take care of her…”

He lifts a hand. “Yeah, that’s okay with me. I’ll go get her bed ready for her if you want to carry her in?” he says pointing in the direction of her bedroom.

“You got it,” I assure him.

He grabs the trashcan, and I hand him a bottle of water. I watch as he disappears down the hallway leading toward her bedroom, and I bend down next to Carly.

“Carly, sweetheart,” I say in a quiet voice. “I’m gonna lift you up and bring you to your room, okay?”

She grunts and moans but doesn’t protest, so I pick her up to carry her. Just as I’m getting to her doorway, Jack is stepping out.

“I moved her blankets aside so you can just lay her down, and I put the trashcan beside her bed, just in case.”

“Thanks, bud.”

“Do I need to do anything else?”

“Nah, I’ve got her. Thanks though. You’re a pretty good kid, you know that?”

“Eh, she makes it easy,” he says as he backs away and moves into his own bedroom just across the hall.

“Here you go,” I whisper into her ear, taking a moment to inhale her intoxicating scent that luckily isn’t overrun by vomit, as I lay her down on the bed.

I stand up straight and look around. As dark as Jack’s bedroom is, Carly’s is just the opposite. Everything is white, except for the wall her bed sits against, which is a deep teal color, and a few throw pillows it looks like Jack tossed on the ground that are the same color. On one wall, she has three signs hung, each with one arrow on them, painted in gold and teals, and a large golden full-length mirror on a stand in the corner. The bedroom furniture is all white, with frames of pictures of Jack covering the surfaces. It’s Carly. And my eyes can’t take everything in quickly enough.

She starts mumbling, and I turn my head toward her, noticing her eyes are on me.

“Hey, beautiful. How you feeling?”

“Mmgrffs are the dlivl,” she says.

“Ha! What was that?”

“Margaritas are the devil,” she says much more clearly this time.

“Well I think that might have a little to do with the quantity rather than the margaritas themselves.”

“Eh, you say potato and I say tomato,” she says nestling in to her bed.

Man, she’s even adorable drunk. “Need anything? Aside from sleep?” I ask as I pull the covers up over her chest.

“Nuh-uh, sleep is good.”

I look down. Her eyes are already closed, her dark eyelashes fanning out, cheekbones still flushed and dark pink lips set in a pout. Her lips part and start to move slightly, like she’s trying to say something.

“Baby, you need anything?”

She looks back up into my eyes, hers surprisingly clear. “You,” she mumbles.

I kneel closer, praying she continues. Praying that I heard her right.

“I just need you, James. You’re my lobster,” she mumbles before closing her eyes again.

Thank the good Lord Tess is still a Friends freak, so I know exactly what she meant by that. And the thought has me smiling all the way to the couch where I stretch out my long body, arms behind my head, feeling more content than I’ve felt in… well… ever.