Keep Her (20 page)

My eyes went wide when I thought of the possibilities that ten minutes alone with Riley could bring, but I cleared my throat, pretending she hadn’t said anything.

This would not be easy. And the hardest part wouldn’t be keeping it from Marcus. The hardest part would be keeping my hands to myself all damn day.

Damn it all to hell! If he was fuming before, he would be super fuming now. Tessa had finally made contact with me, but I wasn’t allowed to tell Marcus about our conversation. Every single molecule in my body fought the urge to be loyal to my own flesh and blood and tell him what he desperately wanted to know. But I also had to stay true to my friend’s wishes. At least until she landed safe and sound in the comfort of her parents’ home, all the way across the country in Arizona.

Did I say he was going to freak out? Marcus was going to lose his fucking bird when he found out I didn’t tell him she was flying to another state to get away from him for God knew how long.

God, I felt so guilty. When had I become such a despicable liar? First I was keeping my relationship with Marcus’s best friend from him, and now I was acting all harboring-the-fugitive with the girl he loved. He was going to rip me a new one for being a horrible sister. I probably deserved it too. But by the time we’d made it back to Brooklyn—in three separate cars, in holiday traffic—Marcus’s stress level had finally lowered a few notches and I wasn’t about to rock that boat.

“You okay?” I asked him as I stocked his fridge with the last of the leftover food from the party.

“Yeah, I just wish she’d let me talk to her. If she’d just let me explain…”

I truly felt sorry for him. It was the first time since our mother died that my heart ached for him because of the way he was handling his “loss.”

Whereas most people used sadness as their outlet, Marcus turned grief into anger. I could tell he was definitely miserable without her, but his irritation at her running away without giving him a chance was what shone through the most.

Joining him on the couch, where he’d plopped down with a beer, I sat next to him and took the bottle out of his hand.

He immediately darted a look at me as if to say, “stop judging me,” but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want him turning to a bottle when I was there to help. He wasn’t
that
guy. Tessa didn’t need
that
guy in her life again. Numbing his pain—the way he did with clubbing and whoring around after our mother died—was not going to solve this problem.

“So,” I finally said, breaking the silence. “Tessa Bradley, huh?”

“What about her, Ry. Why are you busting my balls… now?”

“I’m not busting balls. I’m trying to talk to you. You think you can turn off the angry caveman for a few minutes to talk to your older, wiser sister?”

He wouldn’t look me in the eye. He stared ahead, cracking his knuckles, still visibly enraged, but seeming like he was trying to keep his anger at bay. “I’m listening,” he sang, like the immature brat he used to be.

“I know you don’t think so, but… I’m happy for you two.”

He shook his head and started to laugh so hard I thought he was putting on an act.

“What? What’s so funny, Marcus?” I asked, a little taken aback by his reaction.

“Thanks, but no thanks, sis. Now that I’ve fucked it all up and she’s out of the picture, you’re happy for me? You tortured me for hitting on her and flirting with her when you had no idea what we were all about. You judged me and ridiculed me and said who the fuck knows what to her to make her think I was a bad guy. I kind of blame you for her running off the way she did, you know? If you hadn’t planted it in her head that I was a fuck up, maybe she would have seen what she saw in a different light. Maybe she wouldn’t have doubted me the way you did. Did you ever think of that?” He was spitting it out as if it were poison on his tongue.

The words stung. They ripped me apart. I’d been hard on him. I’d warned Tessa about him and told her to stay away, but that was because I didn’t think he was capable of love. I had no clue he’d finally fallen for someone. I had no clue he was in this deep. If he had opened up to me, maybe tried to reason with me—who was I kidding? I was such a stubborn bitch these last few months, maybe I
was
at fault for the mess they were in right now. There was nothing left to say except, “I’m sorry, Marcus. I truly am. I had no idea how you really felt. I didn’t think it was serious. I just thought you were fucking around and I wanted to protect you both. Can’t you understand that?”

His attention was still focused on the picture of Yankee Stadium that hung on the wall opposite the couch. He didn’t have to look at me for me to know what he was feeling. The wall that Marcus had built around his heart after our mother died was finally coming down. He’d allowed Tessa in and now that she was gone, he was lost.

“She’ll come around, Marcus. I know she will. Just give her time.”

He finally looked at me, and the pain in his eyes—there were actual tears—almost made me crumble. “Why won’t you tell me where she is? Why are you doing this to me?”

Suddenly, I couldn’t think of a good enough reason
not
to tell him. I wanted to buy him the plane ticket myself and let him confess his love to her so they could live their happily ever after. But then I remembered my words to Tessa and wished I hadn’t promised to keep her location on the DL. She’d already been broken, hurt, disappointed, and scarred by one man in her life—she needed to figure this out without Marcus in her head. She’d given him her trust and in her eyes he’d broken that trust. She needed time to realize what she was missing. She needed time to sort things out. I hated that I had the power to take that all away with one word. I hated that I had the power to erase Marcus’s pain with one word.

Before I had the chance to go back on that word, Marcus interrupted my mental hate-fest with a chuckle. He was typing something into his phone, but I couldn’t imagine what could be so funny.

“Is that her? Did she finally text you back?” I asked, hopeful.

“I wish. It’s just Beck.”

I tried to hide my reaction—the way my back straightened and my cheeks warmed at the sound of his name. “He get home okay?” I asked, nonchalantly.

“Yeah, he’s good… but Marissa isn’t.”

Marissa?
Why the hell was he mentioning her name? “Oh, no? What’s up?” I played dumb.

“Sounds like she was waiting on his doorstep for him to come back. Poor fucker got the third degree as soon as he pulled up to his place. Guess they’ll be making up tonight. At least someone will be back in the arms of the love of his life.”

His words caused a shiver of disgust to roll over my body. I felt weak, helpless, totally out of control hearing that Beck was with her right now. She could only be there for one reason and that was to get him back.

Would he cave? Was what we had strong enough to push her away? He told me he wanted me. Did he still want her too? Oh God. My happy bubble that I’d been in with Beck was about to pop in my face and I couldn’t even react.

“What the fuck’s your problem? You look as white as a ghost.” Marcus broke me from my thoughts, making me very aware of my rapid heartbeat and the sweat forming on my upper lip.

“Yeah… um… I’m fine.” I stood, trying to think of an excuse to jet the hell out of there. “I just remembered that I have to get a whole sample display together for a client consultation tomorrow. I put it off, thinking we’d be home earlier and I totally forgot.” I could tell by the dismissive look on his face that he’d bought it. “You okay if I go?”

Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, he returned his attention to his phone, dismissing me. “I’m fine, Ry. I don’t need a babysitter. And I
will
keep calling her, even if she doesn’t answer.”

I wanted so badly to know what he and Beck were talking about. I fought the urge to lunge at him and grab his phone to read the texts for myself, but that would just come off as absolutely ridiculous. In his uninformed mind I had no reason to give a shit what he and his best friend were talking about. In my mind—I couldn’t even keep track of all the rampant thoughts freight-training through my brain right now.

“I’m gonna go, okay?”

He shooed me away, not even looking up. I guessed he was still pissed at me for not giving him any info about Tessa. I saw myself out, blowing him a kiss, and as soon as I shut the door behind me, I was dialing Beck’s number.

When he didn’t answer the first time, my heart sank a little. In that moment I understood Marcus. I was losing Beck. After the amazing night we’d spent together. After sharing and admitting so many things to each other, he was returning to the familiarity of Marissa and abandoning his feelings for me.

Was I crazy to ever think he had feelings for me? Was it all just a rebound, even though he said it wasn’t? Was he second-guessing our connection to give the woman he’d loved for two years another shot?

I had no fucking clue. And I wouldn’t know until I spoke to him, but there was no way in hell I would stoop to the level of some crazy-ass jealous girlfriend. I could drive to his house and see what the hell was going on. I could call him over and over again until my thumb was blistered from hitting send. Or I could face the reality that maybe what we thought we felt was just hurried, hasty, and harried.

Maybe it was nothing.

Maybe I imagined it all because I wanted it so badly. Maybe I hoped for this to work because I was tired of being alone. Maybe I was so jealous of Marcus and Tessa that I was grasping at straws. Maybe, maybe, maybe. There were a million different scenarios that left me doubtful.

When I got to my car and deflated into the driver’s seat, reality sank in.
No!
It wasn’t any of those things. I wasn’t fucking crazy. Beck and I had an irrevocable connection. It was real. It was perfect. It was solid. I hadn’t imagined it.

But I had to hold on to my pride. So, instead of dialing his number again or saving my curiosity for when he did answer my calls, I texted him with the truth.

Me:
I know she’s there. I was with Marcus when you texted him. I don’t want to bother you, but I just want to make sure you’re okay.

I waited for what seemed like hours, staring at the screen for his response. When I finally saw the three little dots, indicating that he was typing something, I thought I’d die from the suspense.

Beck:
Don’t worry your sweet little head, babe. It’s not what you think. I’ll call you in the morning.

Morning? His carefree tone and his sweet words made me feel better, but—
Gah
!—I was going to lose my mind until then. I thanked my lucky stars that this was a text conversation and not a face-to-face. This way I could hide my insecure side and come off like the graceful, carefree girl he knew me to be.

Scouring my brain for a proper response, I finally settled on…

Me:
KK

It was indifferent, cool. It would make
him
think. If I had to wrack my brain all night about what was going on over at his place with Marissa, the least I could do was make him wonder what
I
thought about the situation.

What
did
I think about the situation? It wasn’t cut and dried—not at all. My mind was racing and so were my nerves. To me that meant I was feeling things I didn’t even
know
I was feeling. I’d only invested a week’s time with Beck, but in those seven days we’d shared more than I’d ever shared with any other man. It was special, and different, and—just like me to put myself all out there and wind up getting hurt.