Текст книги "Desperate Chances "

Автор книги: A. Meredith Walters

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Changing the tire took ten minutes. The scolding lasted over an hour.

I ended up having to call the estate owner and rescheduling, which was last minute, and she wasn’t pleased.

I was going to miss my deadline and I had had to endure my father’s belittling criticisms. So I was absolutely not in the mood to fight with Viv over where and when she was allowed to diddle the skittle.

I felt frazzled. My head was pounding and if I was honest with myself, all I wanted was a stiff drink.

There were times that I craved alcohol so badly that I could almost taste it on my tongue. I missed the buzz I’d get after two or three drinks. The loss of inhibitions. Those brief moments when I could drop the Gracie act and be the “real me.” Or the version of me that was less encumbered with bullshit.

Drunk Gracie had been a lot of fun. Sure, by the end of the night I was a mess but there were usually a few hours where I was the life of the party.

And I liked the escape. I enjoyed letting loose.

That’s how it all started.

At first it had seemed like normal college shenanigans. Getting wasted was a rite of passage. You hadn’t really had the true college experience until you had danced on a bar top and then prayed to the porcelain god until morning.

But what started as a weekend here and there became every night. Then sometimes during the afternoon. A cocktail around lunchtime to get me through evening classes. Boundaries became blurred and I forgot what willpower was.

I didn’t know how to stop. I wouldn’t stop. Even when Vivian went to my parents and told them about my drinking and they threatened to pull me out of school, I refused to listen.

I was a wreck, plain and simple. But no one was going to tell me that I needed to stop. I was fine. I had it all under control. Until my body made the decision for me.

Waking up in a hospital room with my very pissed off parents hovering over me had been a nasty wake up call.

But it was one I had needed.

Therapy and rehab helped me to identify my problems. They gave me the harsh label of alcoholic. But it didn’t take away the desire. The need.

And yes, it made me unbelievably cranky.

“Look, you just interrupted one hell of an orgasm, so don’t come in here giving me a load of shit,” Vivian growled, buttoning her pants. She put the phone back to her ear, turning her back on me. “Sorry, baby. Now where were we?” Her voice faded as she walked down the hall and into her room, thankfully closing the door behind her.

I sighed, going into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. I should be used to Vivian’s lack of boundaries by now. I had been living with her in some capacity since I was a sophomore in college. She was the woman who thought nothing of pulling her boobs out at Mardi Gras or letting her boyfriend give her a pelvic exam in public.

It had always been a source of good-natured ribbing. We all laughed about it because it was “just Viv.” But it used to more bearable because I had someone to endure it with.

“She’s so loud!” I whined, lying back on the bed, propping my feet up on the wall that separated my bedroom from Vivian’s.

I could hear her moans and groans as clearly as though she was next to me. She and Cole were in the middle of a two day sexathon. He and the guys were home for a few weeks in between shows and I hadn’t seen much of either my roommate or her boyfriend since he had arrived.

“I can hear her! She really does have one hell of a set of lungs,” Mitch said, his voice through the phone doing nothing to drown out the noises coming from the next room.

There was a crash and the wall beneath my feet shook. Then Cole began shouting profanities in between grunts.

“I know that battle cry well. I think it might be time for you to make your exit, G. Things are about to get ugly,” Mitch laughed.

“Christ, the neighbors are going to call the police thinking someone is being murdered.”

“Come over here. You can hang out with me until they’re done,” Mitch suggested.

“What if they don’t stop?” I asked just as the wall shook again from another crash. What were they doing in there?

Scratch that. I really didn’t want to know.

“Then you’ll just have to stay here forever,” Mitch suggested.

“You’ll get sick of me. And I’m a bed hog,” I warned good-naturedly, feeling strangely uncomfortable with the turn in the conversation. Sometimes Mitch could say things that felt…different.

We were friends. The best of friends. Why would I feel weird with him?

I was being ridiculous.

“I’m okay with that, Gracie. You can take up all the room and I’ll be happy just because you’re here. Everything I have is yours, you know that,” he said softly, a strange note in his voice.

I chuckled nervously needing to diffuse the tension. Why was there tension?

“Does that include the Chunky Monkey that I know you keep in the freezer?” I joked.

Mitch cleared his throat. “There are limits, G. Don’t push your luck.”

I was relieved that the moment was over.

We were just Mitch and Gracie again.

Mitch and Gracie.

Best buddies.

“But given your obvious emotional stress, I may make an exception,” he added.

I grabbed my keys and my purse. “I’m on my way. Have the spoons ready.”

Eventually Chunky Monkey became our code word. Whether I needed a quick rescue from the Cole and Vivian sex show or I just wanted to talk, I’d text Mitch the words Chunky Monkey and he’d either call or show up at my door.

No questions.

He was just there.

Then we’d spend the evening watching movies or playing video games. Or if he was on the road, he’d drop whatever he was doing and talk to me for hours about anything and everything.

After I had given up alcohol, Mitch Abrams had been the only escape I had needed. When the urge to get drunk consumed me, I had his sweet voice on the other end of the phone to remind me I could get through it.

My heart ached. I missed Mitch. Sometimes so much that it was like a physical pain. As if on cue Vivian’s moans filled the apartment and I rolled my eyes.

Without thinking I pulled out my phone and typed out a quick text.

I could really use some Chunky Monkey right about now.

I hit send before I could talk myself out of it.

And then I spent the next twenty minutes staring at the dark screen willing it to light up with an incoming message.

But it never came.

My phone remained silent.

Just as I knew it would.

I expected it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t feel like a knife right through the center of my chest.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to come. And you know how I hate to eat chicken wings and breadsticks by myself,” Maysie chided as I sat down across from her in the booth. She looked a little better than she had when she had first come into town. Her complexion wasn’t as sallow and the dark circles were almost gone.

“You look better,” I observed.

Maysie made a face. “I didn’t realize I looked bad.”

I swatted her hand. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you were looking really tired.”

Maysie wiped her fingers on her napkin and took a drink of water. “I’ve just felt really worn down. I caught a stomach bug a couple of weeks ago. It was brutal. It’s taking me a while to get over it.”

“You really need to take care of yourself,” I scolded.

Maysie rolled her eyes. “You sound like Jordan.”

“Well Jordan’s right. This time. Though I’m surprised he handled you leaving him. How can he function without you?” I asked, only slightly teasing.

“He’s a big boy. He’ll be just fine. Besides it’s only until Friday,” Maysie remarked dismissively but she lit up at the mention of her fiancé’s name.

Jordan and Maysie really did have something special. They were so incredibly lucky. And on some level, I could admit that I was a little jealous of it.

Okay, a lot jealous.

Not that I wasn’t super happy that Maysie had found a love like that, I just selfishly wanted it for myself.

I could have had it. If I hadn’t callously thrown it away.

Nope. Self-flagellation was not on the menu this evening. Stop it, Gracie!

“Still sitting in the same booth, huh? Don’t feel like shaking things up and sitting at a high top this time?” I joked, getting rid of any remnants of negativity.

“No way. This booth has history,” she explained.

I knew better than to even suggest we sit somewhere else. Maysie always sat at this particular booth by the bar. Something about it being the same booth she was sitting in with Riley when she first met Jordan. My friend was overly sentimental and I loved her for it.

I reached over and picked up a breadstick and took a bite. I tried not to think about calories or how I shouldn’t eat this sort of thing.

My stomach protested and my brain screamed for me to stop eating. Yet another battle in the ongoing war inside my head.

In defiance, I picked up a chicken wing and ate it quickly, dropping the meat-free bone onto the plate.

Maysie was trying not to be obvious as she watched me but subtlety wasn’t her strong suit.

“Do I have bar-b-que sauce on my face?” I asked her pointedly, wiping at my lips.

Maysie flushed and looked ashamed. “Oh, no, not at all. They’re good right?” she fumbled, picking up a breadstick and shoving into her mouth.

“It’s cool, Mays. I get it,” I said, trying not sound irritated. All of my friends watched me. I felt their eyes. Their concern.

Is Gracie eating enough? Is she going to sneak into the bathroom and drink a fifth of Vodka? She’s looking so skinny, is she starving herself?

Everyone had those questions and I understood why. I wasn’t angry, just resigned that in the back of their minds those thoughts would always linger.

Mitch never looked at me that way. He never made me feel like I was under a microscope. He always made me feel…normal.

Ugh!

Why was I thinking of him so much lately? I had been good about blocking him out.

Lately I was starting to question things. Wondering whether I should do as Viv suggested, and finally talk to him. But so much time had passed. Too much time perhaps. I should have dealt with it a year ago but I had been barely able to pull myself together. I hadn’t been able to handle the implications of that one heart-wrenching night.

But I had done a lot of growing up in the last three hundred and sixty-five days. At some point I had stopped being the girl who forever swept things under the rug. I was trying to get a grip on my life and the thought had taken root that making things right with Mitch was an important step. And it seemed once I let Mr. Abrams back into my head, it was going to take an act of god to get him out again.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t get home until late and then I had to deal with the Viv situation.” I picked up another breadstick and ate this one a little slower.

Maysie cringed. “That’s why I left. I recognized that tone in her voice. I figured I’d better get out of there fast.”

“Well it was happening in our living room. There are some things I can’t tolerate. Communal masturbation is definitely one of them.” We both made a face.

“Does she still do that? Hasn’t she learned to keep that stuff behind closed doors?” Maysie groaned.

I licked Parmesan cheese off my fingers and took a drink of water. “Nope. I’m not holding my breath that she ever will.”

“Well, you think that’s bad, imagine having to hear them go at it from behind a tiny curtain on a tour bus. You think your apartment is close quarters, you have no idea.”

I shuddered. “We need to lock them up in a room. Away from people. We’ll call it a public service.”

We laughed because it was true.

“Maysie! I didn’t know you were in town!” a shrill voice interrupted. Our waitress, a thin girl with straight black hair was grinning from ear to ear. “How are you? I haven’t seen you in months!” Jaz Digby squealed, pulling Maysie to her feet and giving her a hug.

“Hey, Jaz. Yeah, I’m just here for the week. How have you been?” Maysie asked after sitting back down.

Jaz flicked her dark hair and put a hand on her hip. “Can’t complain. Even if I’m still working in this place.”

“Moore’s not a bad boss. It could always be worse, “ Maysie said, waving at the long time manager of Barton’s who was restocking the liquor behind the bar.

Jaz lifted her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah, well I’m getting married next year and we’re planning to move to the city. No more waitressing for this gal.”

Jaz held out her hand for Maysie and I to inspect her diamond-clad finger.

“Wow, impressive,” I told her.

Jaz beamed.

“I didn’t know you were dating anyone,” Maysie said.

Jaz blushed. “I’m marrying Eli.”

Maysie’s eyes widened and I frowned. Eli? How did I know that name?

Then it hit me.

“Eli Bray?” I asked. Jaz nodded, biting on her lower lip. She glanced at Maysie nervously.

“Isn’t that the guy—” I began to say but Maysie cut me off.

“That I dated before Jordan. Yeah.”

“We’ve only been together for a few months but when you know, you know, right?” Jaz gave Maysie a worried look. “Should I have asked you first? I mean, I know you guys were together and I don’t want it to be weird.”

I remember Eli being pretty hot in that whole slacker, pothead townie kind of way. He and Maysie had never made much sense so it wasn’t surprising when it didn’t really go anywhere.

Maysie put her hand on Jaz’s arm. “Jaz, don’t be ridiculous. That was years ago and we were never serious. Eli’s a great guy. I’m happy for you. Congratulations,” she said sincerely.

Jaz beamed and you could tell she was happy.

“Yeah, congrats,” I added.

“Thanks!” Jaz tucked her pen and pad into her apron. “I’ll send you an invitation. It’s just going to be a small ceremony but we’d love you to be there. And Jordan too of course,” she went on.

“Absolutely. I’d love to come,” Maysie told her.

“Awesome. Okay, well, I guess I should take your orders, huh? The usual? Tequila Chicken?”

“How did you guess?” Maysie chuckled.

Jaz and I both rolled our eyes. “Only because it’s the only thing you ever eat here,” I piped up.

“What about you, Gracie?” Jaz asked.

I didn’t bother looking at the menu. I knew it like the back of my hand. “Uh, how about a Cobb Salad.”

“Okay, sounds good. I’ll refill your drinks and get you some more breadsticks.” Jaz took our glasses.

Once she had left I turned wide eyes to my friend. “Jaz Digby is marrying your ex-boyfriend? What crazy sort of Twilight Zone did we just wander into?”

Maysie leaned in. “Oh my god, I know! I was not expecting that one. I hope Jordan doesn’t pop a blood vessel when I tell him we’re going to the wedding.”

I giggled. “Didn’t Jordan knock him out or something? I seem to remember you telling me about an altercation between the two.”

Maysie waved her hand in dismissal. “That was back when Jordan thought peeing a circle around me was a good way to keep guys away. Eli was never a threat. Jordan figured that out pretty quickly.”

“God, it’s hard to believe all of that was almost four years ago. Four years since you went toe to toe with Olivia and Milla over your fiancé.”

Maysie grimaced. “Milla Wood. Yuck. I had tried really hard to forget about her.”

“I heard she got married to some guy from her hometown in Maryland, and has popped out two kids already. I also heard she’s gotten pretty fat too,” I said, grinning.

Milla Wood was our former sorority sister and all around assface. She had gotten Maysie black balled from our sorority over Jordan and had gone around spreading some vicious rumors about her as well. In the end, it turned out Milla was just pissed because Jordan had turned her down. She ended up transferring out of Rinard College, never to be seen again.

“Where did you hear all this?” Maysie asked, looking pretty pleased with the juicy gossip.

I smiled coyly. “I have my sources. I like to keep tabs and make sure karma does its job.”

“I shouldn’t care one way or another about the bitch but damn, that’s good to hear,” Maysie chuckled.

I inclined my head in Jaz’s direction. “But seriously, it doesn’t bother you to hear your ex is marrying someone else? Not in the slightest? I mean, I would be a little weirded out to hear a guy I used to bang was getting hitched.” I said, waggling my eyebrows.

Maysie snorted. “More power to ’em. I’m glad to hear they’re together. Eli’s a good guy. And Jaz…well she’s…”

“Enthusiastic?” I chirped.

We both started laughing again.

“I swear, I feel like I’m the last singleton from our graduating class,” I complained, thanking Jaz when she brought back our drinks.

“Oh no you’re not, Gracie. I know for a fact that Jasper Evans is still single,” Jaz chimed in.

“Who the hell is Jasper Evans?” I asked, trying to place the name with a face.

“The guy that used to sunbathe on the quad in his speedo?” Maysie asked, her lips twitching in amusement.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Jaz exclaimed.

I covered my face with my hands and groaned. “Great, so me and Speedo Guy are both single. Maybe I should give him a call,” I remarked sarcastically.

Jaz looked thoughtful. “I’m pretty sure he’s gay,” she pointed out.

I lifted my hands into the air. “Well there you go, I couldn’t even get Speedo Guy.”

Jaz patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Gracie. You’re a total hottie. You’ll get snatched up in no time. You’re pretty enough that not everyone will care about the fact that you used to be a total train wreck.”

Maysie and I looked at each other and I could tell my dear friend was trying not to laugh.

“Thanks, Jaz. You really made me feel better,” I deadpanned.

She continued patting my shoulder. “I’m glad. Because I mean it. Crazy is easily overlooked when you have a nice face.”

“Yeah, G, she’s right,” Maysie mused, biting her bottom lip.

“Okay ladies, I’ve got to get back to it. Your food should be out soon,” Jaz said with a final condescending shoulder pat.

“Wow. Do you think she hears herself when she speaks?” I asked after Jaz left.

“I doubt it. Let’s hope Eli has a good pair of earplugs. Maybe that could be my wedding gift to him,” Maysie snickered.

I shook my head. “It’s sad when Jaz-Motormouth-Digby can land someone and I’ve been sans a date in over six months.”

Maysie sobered instantly. “I didn’t think you were really looking for anything.”

I shrugged. “I’m not. But an option would be nice to have.”

Maysie raised her eyebrows questioningly. “Where is all this coming from? Does this have to do with you coming with us next weekend to the Rejects show? Because if it’s strange with all of us being with someone—”

I held up my hand, silencing her. “It’s not about anything, Mays. I’m just having a moment of feelsorryformyselfitis. It’ll pass. Listening to Vivian’s masturbatory moaning earlier has given me a case of the grumps is all.”

“There’s someone out there for you, G. Someone perfect,” Maysie said softly.

I laughed. I made myself. It was either that or cry.

Because I was pretty sure I had already found him.

Enough!

I had to stop thinking like that.

“I don’t need a man, Mays. I’m content with my own company. Plus I have you, Viv, and Riley to stop me from turning into a crazy cat lady.”

“I promise that if I see you adopting any cats, I’ll stage an intervention,” Maysie swore.

We ate our meal.

We laughed.

We talked.

It felt really, really good.

I had friends. I had a decent job.

I had a life.

I was sober. I was getting better.

That’s all that mattered.

Just as we were paying the bill, my phone dinged and I pulled it out, forgetting by that point, about my momentary weakness only a few hours before.

When I saw his name, I almost dropped my phone.

“Who is it?” Maysie asked, seeing my face.

I schooled my features into total neutrality. I didn’t care. I didn’t care.

“Just my mom. She’s being her normal, suffocating self,” I lied.

I had just lied.

Why?

“Ugh, sorry, babe. Ignore her until tomorrow.”

I swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yeah, it’s probably for the best. I don’t want to open a can of worms tonight.”

Maysie looped her arm through mine as we left Barton’s and headed out to the parking lot.

“Should we brave the apartment or perhaps should we give them a few more hours?” Maysie asked, digging her keys out of her purse.

I still had a death grip on my phone, unwilling to put it away.

“Uh. I think they might need a while,” I said distractedly.

I don’t care.

I don’t care.

“Should we go see a movie then?” Maysie’s voice seemed to be coming through a fog.

I nodded absently. “Yeah. I’ll meet you at the Cineplex.”

Maysie regarded me levelly. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

I gave her a shaky smile. “Of course. Just annoyed that Mom had to ruin my good mood. But it’s nothing a good chick flick can’t fix.”

Maysie gave me a quick hug. “Put it behind you, G,” she murmured.

“Yeah. I will,” I agreed.

Maysie walked to her car and I headed to mine.

I glanced down at the text again.

Do I need to ride to your rescue?

“Yes,” I whispered into the air, not daring to type out the reply.

Mitch had responded.

What did that mean?

His words felt so…normal.

And for the briefest of seconds we were just Mitch and Gracie again.

My chest felt uncomfortably tight and my eyes started to burn.

Do I need to ride to your rescue?

He had rescued me so many times before.

Mitch had always been my white knight.

But I had learned in the last few years that I couldn’t spend my life relying on someone else. That at some point I had to learn to rescue myself. And I was.

When I lost Mitch I had also gained a strength I hadn’t known I possessed. Because I had to be strong if I was going to survive losing the best thing in my life.

And I couldn’t walk down that road again. We had crossed a line we couldn’t come back from. Not ever. No matter how much I wanted to.

Because now there was Sophie.

So I deleted the text.

It was for the best.

All the while my heart tattooed a word against my chest.

Liar.