Wreck Me

  "Nova, she doesn't want the rule broken. She's been through stuff... things that..." I shouldn't be talking about this with her, because I'm not sure if Avery would want me to. "But anyway, yeah, we're just friends and that's all she wants from me."

  "Fine. You're just friends," she agrees, more to appease me than anything. "It's amazing how much you two have to say that."

  Giving up, I sigh and start for the car again. "Come on, or I'm going to be late."

  I make it about two steps before I hear my name being called out. My body goes as stiff as a board as I turn to find the neighbor jogging toward me. I have no idea how he figured out my name other than I must have told him when I was drunk. I don't like that he knows it.

  "So, do you have the money?" He's out of breath by the time he reaches me, hunched over, gasping for air as he clutches his knees for support.

  I tell myself to remain calm, even though my instincts beg me to tell this guy to go fuck himself. "I'll have the hundred by Tuesday." I refuse to look at Nova, because I don't want to see the disappointment in her eyes. "I'm getting paid then."

  He straightens up, his face pallid, his pitted cheeks red. "I told you it was five hundred."

  My fingers curl inward as I stab my nails into my flesh, fighting to keep my temper under control, something I've rarely done in the past, never thinking ahead. Now I am. I'm thinking about work, about seeing Avery at the bar, about spending time with her on Sunday, getting to see the ocean for the first time.

  "And I told you there wasn't five hundred in that bag," I say as coolly as I can. "And you're delusional if you think I'm going to give you extra because you owe this Skullman dude or whatever."

  "You're walking a dangerous line," he warns, shooting a harsh glance from Nova to me. Then his bloodshot eyes darken and he inches toward me, lowering his voice. "You better watch it or stuff might happen."

  An invisible rubber band snaps inside me and all my restraint flies right out the window. I slam my hands against his chest and shove him back. "You better watch it, or I swear to God--"

  "You swear to God what?!" he shouts as he recovers his footing and barrels back at me. I move toward him, too, knowing firsthand that his druggie body is no match for me when I'm sober. When he realizes he's not scaring me, he shifts his direction and backs away toward the motel. "You have no fucking idea who you're messing with. And when you do find out, that pretty little face of yours is going to be fucked up." He spins unsteadily on his heels then makes a crooked path back to his room.

  "Fuck," I mutter under my breath as I turn to Nova.

  Her eyes are so massive that they magnify all her fear and distress. "What was that about?"

  "Nothing." I signal for her to follow me as I stride toward the car, more irritated with myself than anything. I've been doing well and shouldn't be dealing with this crap anymore, but it's like trouble follows me. Always has.

  God, what would Avery think of me? I really need to start making better choices. The thought strikes me out of nowhere, and I'm not quite sure what to do with it or where the hell it came from.

  "Tristan, don't shut down on me," Nova demands, her sandals scuffing against the gravel as she jogs to catch up with me. "You can't shut down."

  "I'm not shutting down." I skid to a stop when I reach the car. What the hell do I tell her? Lie or admit the truth? The truth will reveal my cracks, and Nova will open them up even further because that's what she does.

  Lie?

  Truth?

  Old Tristan?

  This weird, new sober one?

  Honestly, I kind of like the new one, which is really fucking hard to admit. After years of self-loathing, holding on to everything bad I've done, suddenly I don't want to feel the pain of my past anymore.

  I open the passenger door. "Get in and I'll tell you what happened."

  I wait until we're driving down the highway toward The Vibe before I spill the truth to her. By the time I'm finished, I feel a bit better about the situation. Not great, because I still have to deal with our neighbor, but okay.

  "Do you even know who this Skullman is?" Nova asks after I've finished explaining. We're nearing the edge of town, the trees on the sides of the road shifting into sidewalks and small stores.

  "I don't even know the neighbor's name for God's sake. He just showed up out of nowhere, demanding his drugs." My head flops back against the seat, and I close my eyes. "I never should have dumped that bag down the toilet."

  She's quiet for a minute, and when she speaks again, her voice is gentle yet firm. "Yes, you should have."

  I open my eyes and look at her. "Okay, I don't mean for this to sound rude, but are you crazy?"

  Her knuckles whiten as she grips the steering wheel and gives me a sidelong glance. "No. I just know that, the longer you kept that bag, the more likely it would have ended up in your bloodstream than in the sewer system where it belonged."

  "I messed up." It's all I can think to say. "Just like I always do."

  "Everyone messes up, Tristan. It's how we deal with the mess ups that define us." Her attention returns to the road as she makes a turn down a side street. "You chose to dump the drugs because you knew it was the best thing for you to do."

  "And because of Avery," I add without any forethought.

  "Yes, with Avery's little push, you did make that choice, and I love her for it. But, in the end, it was your choice, Tristan. You made it. All by yourself."

  "Yeah, but now I'm supposed to, what? Just overpay the dumbass neighbor for drugs I didn't even do because he threatened me? Because I don't want to."

  "Then don't." She downshifts as she slows down to pull into the packed parking lot of The Vibe. Almost all of the spaces are filled, and there are vehicles even lined up against the curb.

  "Jesus, there's a ton of people here tonight," Nova mutters as she cranes the steering wheel, maneuvering the car into a compact space near the back door employees enter the bar through.

  After she shifts into park, she revolves in her seat to face me. "Here's what we're going to do. When you get home, we'll all pile in what money we can afford. Then Quinton and you will go over there, give the guy his hundred dollars, and tell him that's all he's getting."

  "I don't want you or Quinton involved in this." I unclick my seatbelt and let it unwind. "This is my problem."

  "You're our friend, so it's our problem." When I open my mouth to argue with her, she cuts me off. "Tristan, whether you'll admit it or not, you helped out Quinton and me in the past, so now we're going to help you."

  I roll my eyes. "More like the other way around." I reach for the door handle to get out, but her fingers enclose around my elbow before I can get anywhere.

  "That day on the roof with Quinton, when you forgave him and thanked him for saving your life... You helped save him, Tristan. And you never blamed him for what happened to your sister, and he needed that."

  "Yeah, well..." Yeah, well, what, Tristan? What is your arguing point on this one?

  "Good, then we have an agreement." As her fingers leave my arm, she sits back in her seat.

  "I'm going to pay you guys back every penny." I flip the handle and push the door open. "I promise, Nova. I don't want to be that guy with you two--the one who gets into debt over drugs."

  She smiles tolerantly, and I know it's going to be a pain in the ass paying her back, but I will do it because I need to do it, need to be better than the old me.

  "I'll pick you up at one."

  "Thanks, Nova." I climb out and step into the busy sounds of the people and bustle. Avery was right when she said Friday nights were intense--there are so many people waiting to get in, the line winds around the building. "And I mean that. Thank you."

  "You're welcome." She smiles as I close the door then she backs away.

  I make my way down the alleyway toward the back door, smoking my last cigarette for the next couple of hours. Once I'm inside, I clock in then stop by the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face, trying
to shake off what happened; not just with the neighbor, but with Nova. I wasn't lying when I said I didn't want them getting involved in my problems, but a part of me is grateful I'm not alone in this, like I have been for years.

  It's going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. This isn't like the last time you got yourself into a mess.

  I exit the bathroom and start down the hallway, stopping just short of the bar. If I thought the noise outside was intense outside, it's nothing compared to the inside. Music is booming through the stereo system and people are packed from wall to wall. The only gap of space is behind the bar where Avery and Charissa are working like crazy to fill drink orders.

  Like magnets, my eyes lock on Avery. She's wearing a tight, white tank top and cut off denim shorts. Purple strands of her hair frame her face while the rest is pulled up into a loose knot on the back of her head. I can see the tip of the tree tattoo peeking out from her shirt. Every time she bends over to grab a beer from the cooler, her shorts ride up and her ass cheeks peek out of the bottom, giving me a good glimpse of that flower tattoo on the back of her thigh. It's a nice ass. A really, really nice ass. Perfect enough to give me an instant hard on. God, the things I could do to that ass.

  I probably stand there a little too long, admiring the view, before I push my way through the crowd and toward the front door. I end up taking an unnecessary route behind the bar, so I can stop by and say hi to Avery.

  As I move up behind her, I find myself oddly nervous as the desire I felt earlier pours through me like a lethal dose of heroin.

  While I'm checking her out, resisting the urge to grab Avery's ass and kiss her neck, Charissa glances over her shoulder at me. She gives me a quick wink and a discreet glance in Avery's direction, as if giving me her approval. For what exactly, I'm not sure, but I have a couple of ideas. Why I react on these ideas, I have no clue. Maybe it's because I'm horny as hell and haven't had any in months. Or perhaps it's that I'm attracted to Avery more than I have been to anyone else. Or maybe it's just the simple fact that I want to touch her, get close to her, breathe her in, just have her anyway she'll let me.

  Dipping my mouth close to Avery's ear, my fingers graze the sliver of skin between her shirt and shorts. "Hey," I whisper.

  "Holy fucking shit!" She jumps, dropping the bottle opener and spinning around. Her eyes are wide, her lips parted, and she's breathing wildly. "Jesus," she breathes, pressing her hand to her ravenous chest. "You scared the shit out of me."

  "Sorry," I apologize, but then I bust up laughing.

  She narrows her eyes at me. "You think it's funny?"

  "Yeah. You would, too, if you saw the look on your face." My laughter silences as I realize how close we are. Our chests are pressed together and our hips could easily grind against each other's like they did in the alleyway. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to say hi."

  "Hi," she says then shoos me away. "Now go away. You're throwing me off my game."

  I don't budge. "What game?"

  "The 'I Am a Sex Goddess' game." She puts her hand on my arm and gives me a gentle shove. "The one where I get a lot of tips."

  That's when I realize just how low cut her shirt is, way more revealing than what she wears to the jobsite and weekdays when she's at the bar.

  My gaze travels to the cleavage peeking out. "I'm sure you'll get a lot of those." I scratch at my neck as I steal another glance.

  "Did you seriously just check out my chest?" She pushes me again, her cheeks flushed. "What the hell, Tristan? That is so breaking the rules." She doesn't seem very upset. In fact, I think she might be flattered.

  I grin shamelessly. "Hey, you didn't make a no checking you out rule."

  She opens her mouth to object then seals her lips shut. "You're right. I didn't."

  My mouth curls to a smug smirk as I recall the sight of her flushed cheeks. "And I think you might secretly kind of like that I was checking you out, which is why you're blushing."

  She bites down on her lip, driving my body into a mad frenzy once again. "Whatever." She points her finger at the front door where people are piling inside. "Get to work."

  "Yes, boss." I flash her my best sexy grin then turn to walk away.

  "Wait," she says, quickly grabbing my arm. "I have to ask you for a favor."

  "Whatever you need, I'm game." I twist back around to face her. "You know that."

  "Good." She lets me go then does a quick scan of the bar. "Don't judge me later, okay?"

  I scratch my head. "Later...? What are you talking about?"

  She sighs. "You'll know what I mean soon and, please, just don't think any less of me... I need the money."

  "You have me worried. You're not in any trouble, are you?" I can't help thinking of Conner, wondering if this has something to do with him.

  "It's not about him," she presses, as if reading my mind. "It's just work stuff. You'll get it later, and I hope it won't change your opinion about me." She returns to the tap, grabbing a glass and dismissing the conversation and me.

  And just like that, any inner peace I was feeling dissipates.

  I think that's when I know--when I realize Nova is right. I do have deeper feelings for Avery than simply being friends. That everything I feel, the way I act, is greatly affected by her. I've changed over the last couple of weeks in both good and terrifying ways because of her, which pretty much means I'm fucked.

  Because, once again, I'm falling for a girl who won't reciprocate my feelings.

  And, once again, I know I'm too stupid to walk away, instead heading straight back to that place where I'll be broken again.

  Chapter 25

  Welcome humiliation.

  Avery

  Everything was going great until I stupidly asked Tristan to the beach, acting about as nervous as a sixteen-year-old girl who's never been on a date before. And it's Friday night, so my embarrassment is about to go through the roof because Friday night is dance night.

  God, I hate dance night.

  "He's quite the charmer, isn't he?" Charissa ambles up to me from behind the bar and stuffs a small stack of bills into the register. "I think you like his charm, too, considering you've been staring at him for ten minutes straight."

  The Vibe is loud tonight, pop music throbbing from the speakers, and people on the dance floor are getting hot and heavy. The air is muggy and smells like beer and sweat, and I've got a line of impatient costumers waiting for their drinks. I'm moving a little slower than normal thanks to my obsessive need to check on Tristan and make sure he's not getting too overwhelmed. I promised I'd keep an eye on him, and God dammit, that's what I'm going to do.

  "I am not." I line five shot glasses onto the countertop, pretending what she's saying is a lie. Because I have been really aware of him--how he's doing, every time he laughs, every time a girl comes in and flirts with him. It's driving me crazier than it should. Getting him a job here seemed like such a grandtastic idea at the time, but with each moment we spend together, we get dangerously closer. And I feel like I'm falling again.

  Down.

  Down.

  Down.

  The.

  Rabbit.

  Hole.

  Stupidly returning to dreamland.

  Where guys are good.

  And don't break me apart.

  Where I can give them my heart.

  And they won't shatter it.

  "Yeah, you are. And I notice how much you smile around him, too." Charissa plants her butt on the counter, her legs dangling over the edge. She's dressed to draw attention--her blonde hair in a high ponytail, her smoky eyes seductive, and her lips a fiery red. Her strapless dress leaves little to the imagination, and her leather stilettos are about six inches high. "I'm pretty sure I've never even seen you smile, like a real smile, until the other night when he showed up here."

  "I real smile all the time," I argue. "Tristan just jokes around a lot with me, so it happens more often."

  As she crosses her legs,
the guy who ordered the shots zeroes in on them. "That's such bullshit. You two so want to rip each other's clothes off. I can tell."

  I grab a top shelf tequila, twist the lid off, and tip the bottle to fill each shot glass to the brim. "We're just friends, Charissa. Guys and girls can be just friends."

  "Yeah, but friends don't kiss out in the alley."

  I place the bottle on the counter and glare at her. "Hey, I told you that under the assumption it would remain confidential."

  "I didn't tell anyone," she promises. "I'm just pointing out that you did kiss, and you said it was a hot but forbidden kiss."

  "Forbidden being the key word. As in, it never should have happened."

  "Forbidden doesn't mean wrong, Avery. It just means you're confused because you liked it."