CHAPTER 4

SCOTT

Their house is dark when I pull in the drive, but that doesn’t stop me from getting out of the car and approaching the front door. I probably shouldn’t have driven all the way here; not that I feel the least bit drunk. Not anymore. The sound of her laughter… Nothing has ever sobered me faster.

I rap my knuckles on the door. Once. Twice. Three times. No response. No noise coming from the other side of the door. If they’re in there, I know they can hear me. After all, it’s safe to say I’m probably being a touch obnoxious right now. Pretty soon, I’m banging on the door with both hands. And wait some more.

Two minutes.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Yeah. I’m not going away that easily. Right now, my head is a mess and I need to talk to my best friend. Cage is the only one who knows how badly the break-up with Skylar affected me. I never even told Cassie what happened. All she knows is that one minute Skylar and I were inseparable, the next we were over and she was on a plane to Atlanta. The way it all went down probably left Skylar thinking I’m a heartless prick; nothing could be further from the truth. I spent a whole year wracked with guilt. Beating myself up over the way we left things. Truth be told, I haven’t been the same since the night I told her we should try taking a break from each other. Still, after all these years, I can picture her face. Hurt. Betrayal. Tears. Sometimes the memory of that night haunts me in my sleep.

The side of my fist meets the wood once more before I hear someone approaching the door.

“Pound it one more time, motherfucker, and I’ll kick your annoying ass up and down this street,” Cage threatens while throwing open the deadbolt. “The fuck is your problem, asshole?” he bitches when he discovers I’m the one who interrupted his little sex fest. I gather this from the rumpled hair and massive woody his sweatpants and t-shirt fail to conceal. My suspicions are confirmed when Cassie comes down the stairs. Face flushed. Shirt turned inside out. Sporting a serious case of bedmash hair.

Ew. The last image I want floating around in my head is one of Cage boning my sister. It’s bad enough knowing what goes on behind the walls of their bedroom. Witnessing the aftermath firsthand? Fuck. That. Shit. To be honest, it was one of the reasons I decided to get my own place. Let me be clear. I don’t have a problem with Cage dating Cassie. I’m still getting used to it. But I don’t have a problem. Not. Really.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” Cass walks over, arms automatically circling my waist. “This is a nice surprise.” Cage goes to protest, but she silences him with a swish of her hand. “A bit late for company, but still a nice surprise.”

“Yeah. Sorry for the late hour. Something happened tonight… I just need to talk to my best friend.” My admission is met with shocked silence. Let’s just say it’s been awhile since I’ve referred to Cage as my best friend. God, I really am an asshole. “I hope that’s okay.” They both speak up at once.

“Of course, it’s okay.”

“You know I’m here, bro.”

Cassie tightens her grip on the back of my shirt. “You sure you don’t want me to stick around? I’m pretty good at giving advice.”

“Thanks for the offer, Cass, but not tonight.” I drop a kiss on top of her rumpled head. “But hey, maybe we can do French toast this week?”

Her slender arms give another squeeze, then she peers up at me. Blue eyes identical to mine. Unconditional love staring right back at me. I can’t help feeling a twinge of guilt despite months of apologizing. I can’t believe I almost lost her. All because she fell in love with my best friend and I couldn’t handle it.

“You know it. Angelo’s?” she verifies.

“Only the best for my baby sis.” I tap the end of her tiny nose. Everything about Cassie is petite. She gives me a pat on the chest then turns her attention to the man waiting patiently behind her. The look on his face tells me he’d wait forever if that were what she needed.

She cups his face in her hands as her voice drops to a whisper. “I’ll be upstairs. Wake me if I fall asleep. We can pick up where we left off?”

One hand curls around her hip, while the other cups the nape of her neck. The connection is tender. Personal. A promise. “I won’t be too long. Love you, Dimples.” They share an intimate kiss, and I have to clear my throat to remind them I’m still in the room.

“Night.” She wiggles her fingers in our direction before disappearing back upstairs. He stares in that direction long after she’s gone.

“Dude. I should have called.” I throw my hands up as if to say my bad. Setting aside my agenda, I glance toward the empty staircase before turning back to meet his eyes. “You two are so goddamn sweet I get a friggin’ toothache just being in the same room with you,” I tease. Completely aware of how jealous I must sound right now.

His hand goes to his chest and he flashes his trademark panty-melting smile. “She’s the love of my life, bro.”

One look at his face, and I can’t help smiling. Dude is grinning like he just won the fucking lottery.

“So, grow a pair and do something about it already,” I quip, knowing damn well he’s been carrying around that diamond for the past six months, waiting for the ‘perfect moment.’

“I’m working up to it, but Cassie… Man, she’s everything, and I just want the moment to be perfect. Speaking of perfect. We were just about to—and then the knocking—so, yeah.” At least the fucker has the decency to pretend to feel bad about boinking my sister.

“I get it. That’s awesome, man. I’m happy for you. I mean, I’ve never been on that same ‘level’, but it’s cool. I get it. Seriously. I couldn’t ask for a better man for Cass.” I give him a brotherly thump on the back. “Sorry for breaking up your party, but I needed a voice of reason.”

At this, he laughs. “Voice of reason? You make it sound so serious. What’s going on?” His eyes go round as he falls back in the recliner. “Holy shit. You didn’t get some girl knocked up, did you?”

“No,” I scoff, plopping down on the sofa across from him, resting my elbows on my knees. “I’ll leave Daddy duty to Davis.”

“Daddy duty,” he snickers. “You realize what that sounds like? Doody? Do-do.” He cracks himself up with his own stupid sense of humor.

“For fuck’s sake, shut up already. I get it.” I can’t help rolling my eyes. “I swear you’re a child trapped in a man’s body.”

“Yet you come to me as your voice of reason.” He makes a popping sound with his mouth.

“Maybe I’m having second thoughts,” I huff, and he pushes up out of his chair.

“Alright then, best be going. Don’t want you to get caught up in all that bar traffic.” He hooks a thumb toward the stairs. “Mrs. Cage is up there waiting, so…”

I shake my head and point a finger at the recliner. “Park your ass in that chair. We’re not done here. And she’s not Mrs. Cage. Not yet, anyhow.”

“Fine.” He makes a dramatic show of flopping back down in the chair then leans forward and gets serious. “What’s got you so shaken up?”

Let’s see… How do I say this without sounding like I’ve lost my damn mind?

“I had something happen tonight. Something I’ve never encountered before,” I admit on a sigh.

“Wait a sec, is that code for ‘I couldn’t get it up?’” He does the air quote thing. “Because if that’s the case, I don’t know how much help I’m gonna be.” I fold my arms across my chest, and my lips draw into a thin line. His hand goes dramatically to his chest. “I, for one, have never had that problem. But I hear it’s normal for guys as they get older. You know, after their sack hairs go grey and shit.”

I give him mad props for getting all that out while keeping a straight face.

“You through being a dickhead?”

He taps a finger against his lips, pretending to ponder my question. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Anyway, I got back from Chicago and stopped in The Hideout for a drink.”

“Dude, I keep telling you you’re not going to find anything but skanks in that dive bar.” He makes a tsk tsk sound while shaking his head.

“I wouldn’t say that. That bartender Melissa is pretty sweet. Nice rack, too,” I point out.

“True.” He nods in agreement. “But that rack is already spoken for.” Realizing I’m not following him, he adds. “Her fiancé, Jax, owns the bar.”

“Wait,” I interrupt him, still confused, though I’m not sure why I even care because this is totally off topic. But now that he’s brought it up, I feel compelled to clarify. “Bald? Goatee? Wicked tattoo sleeves down both arms?”

“Six four. Ex-military. Could rip your balls off with one hand and force you to eat ‘em. Yep. THAT guy.” Cage leans back in his recliner. “You weren’t in there hitting on her again. Were you?”

I blow out an exasperated sigh. “For the last time. I’ve never hit on Melissa. I pay her to get me drunk. That’s it. Besides, that’s not where I was going with my story.”

“Well, then, make your goddamn point. I’ve got some serious sexin’ to get back to.” He glowers at me.

Cassie loves him. Cassie loves him. I silently chant the words and take a cleansing breath to keep from taking his head off and stuffing it under that damn recliner.

“The fuck, dude? You know, you’re lucky she loves your sorry ass, or I’d throat punch you right now.”

He throws up his hands in a show of concession. “Sorry, it’s just that you’re starting to piss me off. Stop rambling and tell me what made you drive all the way out here when you clearly weren’t in any condition to be driving.”

“Stop interrupting and let me finish.” My brows shoot toward the ceiling, daring him to argue. “I ran into Ashley at the bar.” He opens his mouth again, and I hold up a hand to cut him off. He steeples his fingers beneath his chin in an attempt to appear calm, but the look on his face tells a different story.

“We had a lot to drink. One thing led to another. There was kissing, and she wanted me to screw her in a bathroom stall. Solicited sex in a dingy bathroom.” His eyes go round with shock. “For the record, I didn’t sleep with her. For a minute there I thought about it. I tried to make myself numb and just go through the motions, but this woman came into the bathroom, and the fragrance she was wearing reminded me of someone. After that, I told Ashley it would never happen for us and that she needed to move on. I went home, but that damn scent was in the stairwell of my apartment building. It was like I couldn’t escape it. Then I heard this woman laughing.” I pause and take a deep breath. Let it out slowly. Dragging it out. “Cage, I’m not sure if it was the alcohol or if it really was her.”

Come on, dude. You already know.

“Her, who? Which her are we talking about?”

“Skylar. Skylar Dennison. High school. Senior year.”

“The virgin?”

“That would be her.” I meet his sympathetic gaze.

“Oh, shit.” It’s funny how two simple words can sum up what I’m feeling so eloquently.

“This woman in your building.” He pauses. “Does she live there?”

“I don’t know. She had keys, so I guess so. I’ve never seen her there before, but she went inside the apartment across from mine.”

“Well, this is good. At least now you’ll be able to find out if it really is her.”

“And just how the hell do you propose I do that?” I scowl.

“Umm, by knocking on her door.” There’s a duh inflection in his tone, but he spares me the eye roll this time.

“Uh, no fucking way.” My head moves back and forth to reiterate my objection to his stupid idea.

“Why not?” he demands.

I hop up and start pacing the living room. “For starters, she fucking hates me. Can’t say I blame her, either. Looking back, I was pretty awful to her.”

His brows rise with amusement, and a smirk tickles the corners of his mouth. “You’re seriously gonna pussy out? Geezus, Rivers. It’s been four years. You really think this girl is still pining over you? Hell, judging by the pictures I’ve seen, she’s probably dating some guy who respects the hell out of her. Gives her two point five orgasms a day.” I shoot him the finger, and the look he returns says fuck you, too. “Look, all I’m saying is, that was high school. Things change. People change.”

“You still don’t get it, do you? I’m not saying I’m hung up on this girl. But when we were together… She’s the only girl who didn’t want me to be something else. Ashley was always looking to change me into her ideal man. But with Skylar, I already was her ideal man and all I had to do was be myself.”

“If she was so perfect, then remind me why you broke up with her?”

“Because I was a dumbass who listened to his shithead friends instead of his heart. A few of them suspected I hadn’t popped her cherry, and they gave me shit about it all the damn time. They grilled me day in and day out, reminding me that I had all these girls lining up to sleep with me and I was busting my ass trying to do the impossible. They took to calling Skylar ‘Fort Knox.’ Things just got really bad. Looking back, I should have told her about everything I was feeling, but then she came over and told me she was ready. Fuck. I was so goddamn hard my hands were shaking. I fumbled around trying to roll that damn condom on.” I chuckle at the memory.

“Dude. Been there. Go on.” His hands go behind his head and his eyes close, as if he may be reliving his own memory.

“We were so close, but at the last minute, she asked me to stop. I don’t know, man. I was eighteen. Stupid. Horny as hell. I lost my head, and at that point, I was so angry with her for toying with my emotions. All I could think about was Rachel Westin offering to let me back in her bed.” My face falls into my open hands, and I let out a frustrated groan. “After that night, Skylar wouldn’t even talk to me. I tried. I sent text after text. Then, one morning, she just vanished into thin air. I went to her house, and her mom told me Skylar had moved away. I haven’t spoken to her since that fucked-up night. I never found out why she left without saying good-bye.”

“Dude, can you blame her? Sounds to me as if she was just scared. Women really aren’t as complicated as men make them out to be. All they really want is to know they’re loved. They want you to hold them when they cry. Tell them they look beautiful, even on mornings when they wake up with the previous day’s crusty mascara and they haven’t brushed their teeth. They need you to show them that you’ll be there for them when times get hard. Especially when times get hard,” he emphasizes.

My gaze drops to the floor. Ashamed. “I tried doing all those things, but in the end, I failed her.”

“Scott.” His voice commands me to look at him. “You were a kid. You need to stop beating yourself up. You tortured yourself enough during freshman year. What’s the worst that can happen? So, you knock on this woman’s door and it ends up being Skylar. You apologize. Pour your goddamn heart out if that’s what it takes to move on. Whether or not she accepts your apology is on her. Not you. Even if she slams the door in your face, you haven’t lost anything.”

“Okay, Dr. Phil.” I smirk at him. “Thanks for listening. I guess I just needed to process everything out loud. And you’re right. I shouldn’t let the past consume me. After all, I’m sure we’ve both moved on. I don’t know why I reacted the way I did. Thanks for not thinking I’m crazy.”

“Oh, I never said that.” He starts making his way toward the stairs. “You hooked back up with Ashley; that right there tells me you’ve got a screw loose somewhere in that fool head of yours.” I give him the finger, but it’s a half-hearted attempt, because he is partially right. “You want to crash here?”

“And listen to you two screwing each other’s brains out? No thanks. Go. I’ll let myself out.”

“Lock up behind you!” He calls before bounding up the stairs three at a time.

I let myself out, locking up as I go, but when I reach the sidewalk, I find myself turning, rooted to the small section of concrete beneath my feet as I stare back at the house I called home for the last three years. Flashbacks flicker through my brain as fast as a thirty-second infomercial. The day we moved in. The first party we ever threw. The inevitable hangover the next day. Davis burning a bag of microwave popcorn in the middle of the night, which led to the screeching smoke detector rousing us out of bed in our underwear trying to turn the fucking thing off. Coming home to find Cage in our kitchen with Cassie and the fight that occurred moments later. The last night the four of us stayed here...

Now, everything’s different. Life is changing so damn fast, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. What I do know is, some days I find myself wishing I could go back to the way it once was.