Present
This is not happening.
An emotion has crept in that I’ve never really given much thought to in all of my twenty-eight years. I may not have ever actually felt it, but I recognize it. I’ve seen it thousands of times in the eyes of my friends, girls I’ve been with, coworkers, even strangers, but never have I experienced it burning in me so brightly.
The red-hot ache hit me in the center of my chest the moment her lips touched his.
A midnight kiss that was supposed to be mine. A kiss I never thought meant so much. It’s not like I’ve never pressed my mouth against Cass’s or felt any kind of response to being near her. Only the strongest of men could not have a reaction to her strong, lean body, her drive, her talent. Something is different now. From the moment I saw her after first arriving home, I’ve wondered why I stayed away for nearly ten years. Thoughts of why I never claimed Cassandra as mine began haunting me. Now, only a couple weeks later, I’m watching her kiss him…again…except this time I’m starting to see things a bit differently.
I want Cassandra. I crave her more than I thought possible. She complicates what I’ve always thought I wanted for my life.
The kiss ends and he looks at her in a way that makes me want to punch a puppy. He pulls her against his body, turning a little in the process. I can see Cassandra’s face now, peeking over his shoulder.
There’s something not quite right about her expression. Why, Cass? Why’d you walk away from me just a few moments ago? Her eyes are closed, and I need her to open them. Just open your eyes, Cassandra. It’s like she hears my plea because she’s now looking directly at me.
There’s pain clouding her usually bright cerulean eyes.
I want to hold her, take away the pain. Suddenly, it strikes me, the realization that I’m the one who’s causing her pain. She’s taken. Cass is not mine. The thought is like a punch in the gut.
Defeat—it’s a strange feeling.
I’m responsible for stepping away from the possibility of Cass and me. She and I still live together temporarily.
We have nineteen years of friendship, and I have an obligation to that. I won’t let us down. We’re friends, and friends don’t kiss the way I wanted to kiss Cassandra only moments ago. I decide I’ll back off.
Taking a step back, I give her a slight nod then turn and walk through the crowd, away from her.
When I find Matt standing near the bar with the same group of girls from earlier, I become the Paxton Luke I’ve always been—the guy who doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, the guy who doesn’t feel jealousy, the guy who definitely doesn’t lose himself over anyone, especially his little sister’s best friend.
“Dude! Where have you been?” Matt shouts, slapping me on the shoulder. “Time for the first shots of the new year.”
“Tequila,” I tell him. Tequila seems like an excellent way to forget about the first five minutes of this year. “My treat.”
“Hell yeah, man!” Matt grins, pulling the petite blonde he has in his arms closer, taking her mouth with his with an unbridled passion only someone intoxicated would display in a crowd. I turn away and signal the bartender.
“Five shots of tequila and a Jameson on the rocks,” I yell so the brutish-looking bartender can hear me. He nods then begins filling the order. Turning, I lean against the bar and face the crowd. Matt is still mauling the blonde, and her friends are standing in a huddle laughing.
When the bartender lines our drinks up on the bar, I pay him then begin passing them out. The brunette who was hanging on my every word earlier brushes her fingertips against my hand and smiles. I smile back and clink my glass against hers. “To the new year and new friends,” I bellow out, throwing the shot back then chasing it with a long swig of my whiskey. My throat burns, and I’ll take that over the burning in my chest any day. I don’t care what I drink as long as it takes away this pain I’m feeling.
Suddenly, I feel the warmth of someone pressing against me. When I turn, the brunette, whose name is Mandy—I think—is looking up at me with glassy eyes. My mind is a bit hazy too, trying to erase the memory of another girl. “So, I didn’t get my New Year’s kiss,” she slurs slightly, giving me a dazzling smile.
“Oh yeah?” I respond, not caring what happens next.
“Yeah, and it doesn’t appear you had yours either, or you wouldn’t be standing here now. You’d be with the lucky girl who had the good fortune to be standing next to you at midnight.” She steps closer, pressing her small, pert breasts firmly against my chest, sliding her hands up my chest and around my neck.
Throwing the last of the whiskey down my throat, I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer. I bend my head lower, toward her waiting mouth. My mind registers the fact that I don’t need to bend to kiss Cassandra; she’s the perfect height for me. I only have to move a little for our lips to connect. Amanda is different…or is it Mandy? Same thing, right? Her eyes are barely open, and mine are beginning to feel heavy.
“Well, I guess we better remedy our situation. We wouldn’t want to be the only two people tonight without a New Year’s kiss, now would we?” I don’t wait for an answer, just touch my mouth to hers. She begins prodding my mouth open with her tongue and it feels wrong, but I block the thought from my mind and deepen the kiss, giving this girl what she wants. I shut off my brain, suppressing all thoughts and embracing the lust shooting down my spine. Lust—I know it, and I accept it. It’s a familiar feeling and frankly, the only one I’m truly capable of. Lust is safe.
The kiss goes on and on. Soon our hands are involved and getting a little carried away for such a public setting, but I tell myself not to care. This is me. I don’t even think about coming up for air until my mind faintly registers Matt’s voice shouting the one name I’m trying to forget. “Cass the Sass! Where did you go? You missed Old Pax here buying our first round of shots in the new year! I think we need more!”
Slowly, I break up my make out session with…Monica? Lifting my head languidly, I focus my attention in the direction Matt is staring, pulling the brunette close to my side, casually leaving one arm around her shoulder.
Cassandra is standing stock-still, staring directly at me. Richard is at her side, accepting a shot from Matt.
I can see the hurt in her eyes, and there’s also confusion and determination. She doesn’t want to play this game either. The tiniest of sardonic smiles forms on her oval face, and I give her my own devil-may-care look.
Shaking her head, Cassandra faces Richard and Matt, accepting the tequila shot they are offering. She doesn’t even wait for the group, just tosses it back and sucks the lime wedge they gave her with it. She slams it on the bar and signals the bartender for another.
Matt slams his back and high-fives her.
Richard wraps his arms around her middle, pulling her back against him and kissing her neck. My grip on this girl whose name I don’t even know tightens and I watch as they all accept another shot from the bartender. Cassandra’s tongue darts out, and everything in me tightens. Fuck. I need to leave.
“Sorry, Mmm…” I begin.
“Macy,” she provides, a little saucily.
“Yeah, Macy, I’m going to call it a night. Uh, thanks…for the kiss and …thanks.” I lean down and place a peck on her cheek—I don’t want to be a complete dick. I can see the disappointment in her eyes, and even more when she glances in Cassandra’s direction.
Clapping my hand on Matt’s shoulder, I holler, “Dude, I’m outta here. Be safe and call for a ride.”
“Nah, dude, you can’t leave.” He sounds disappointed.
My gaze lifts to find Cassandra watching me. “I’m done, done with tonight and done with this whole thing.” My statement seems so simple, but it holds a lot of meaning. I mean it—I need to let go of whatever it is I’m feeling. Feelings are dangerous.
Reaching my hand out, I take Richard’s hand. “Dick, good to see you again.” He glares at me as I shake his hand. He has made it clear he doesn’t like being called Dick, which has only prompted me to use the nickname more. I give him a knowing smile.
Leaning forward toward Cassandra, I make the second biggest mistake of the night: I place a soft, slightly lingering kiss on her forehead. It may have been brief and completely platonic, but the weight of it feels heavy. “Cass, see you in the morning at home.” The look in her eyes gives nothing away.
I smile. She smiles. “Thanks, Pax. Happy New Year.” We say more with our eyes—more lies.
It’s all lies, but it’s a deception I’m willing to embrace if it means I remain in control of myself.