Loathe at First Sight: A small-town enemies to lovers romance: The Lawsons: Book 1 (The Lawson's)

10. Every Woman Needs a Box of Fake Dicks

ten

Liz

My morning run didn’t go exactly as expected. Running into Jack made sure of that. Seeing me seemed to make him just as mad as I was, but much to my surprise, he finally conceded that we could both use the trails without affecting each other too much.

And he was right. Although we did cross paths, it wasn’t bad. We would just pass each other and keep on moving. I had music blaring in my ears, so I didn’t pay much attention to him.

I did notice, though, that he wasn’t wearing flannel. I guess that shouldn’t be surprising; flannel would be awful to run in. What is surprising, though, is that the shorts that he was wearing showed off a giant leg tattoo. Tribal designs with skulls woven throughout covered all of the skin showing on his right leg—his very toned, very muscular right leg.

I may not have any interest in Jack, but I can admit when it’s clear that someone takes care of themselves. I’m not blind.

Another thing that I realized was that running in Lilly Leaf Falls is a far cry from running in LA. A higher elevation makes for a far more intense experience. Back in high school, I didn’t notice when I was doing track or cross country, but then again, I didn’t know any better. Plus, I was over fifteen years younger. That may have something to do with it.

Aside from my unexpected run-in, running was just the release that I needed. My dad was right. It did help me to feel some better. Running gives me a high that I can’t quite explain.

But after I came back to my parents’ house and got a shower, I have done nothing else. I’ve spent my entire day lying in bed watching trashy reality TV. I can’t seem to get enough of the drama. I guess it helps me to escape my own. Oh, and I’ve eaten a shit ton of cheese puffs—enough that I wonder if my fingers will be permanently stained orange.

Oh well. Worth it.

About 6:30, my mom starts beating on my bedroom door like she’s the damn police.

“Yeah?” I call in nothing more than a grunt.

“We are having family dinner. Michelle just got here. Get your ass downstairs.”

Man, it’s like being a teenager all over again.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” I reply.

“Now, Eliza.”

Oh, yeah. Definitely like being a teenager.

I manage to pull myself away from the drama on the television--but not before making sure to record the next few episodes-- and head down the hall to wash the cheese puff dust off my hands. When I do come downstairs, I see my sister, Michelle, sitting on the couch. She’s doing something on her phone while sipping on a huge fountain drink, which I’m guessing is Diet Coke.

Michelle has brown hair, lighter than the rest of us but still the same brown eyes. Her straight hair hangs down to her shoulders cut in a way that frames her face.

Before I can go over and talk to her, I hear, “Aunt Liz!”

I look over to see my thirteen-year-old niece, Eve, rushing over to me to wrap her arms around my neck.

“There’s my girl!” I exclaim, hugging her as tight as I can.

I may not have been around much while Eve was growing up, but I always tried to make sure she knew who I was—and that I loved her. I always sent birthday and Christmas gifts and would buy whatever she was selling for her school fundraisers.

A couple of times, she’s reached out to me, asking some questions about college. She’s super smart, so I guess she’s trying to get a jump on things. I’m not sure how much her mom knows about her calling me. I haven’t talked to Michelle in quite a while. I’m not quite sure what I did to piss her off, but she inherited her ability to hold a grudge from our mother.

“How are you doing, beautiful?” I ask Eve.

“Okay, I guess. Except Mom took my phone.” She turns around to stare daggers through Michelle.

Without looking up from her own phone, Michelle says, “I told you to get your Spanish grade up, or your phone was mine. Don’t make me seem like the bad guy here.”

Eve turns back around to me to roll her eyes. My niece not doing well in a class is highly unusual. She loves school.

At least she used to.

Maybe more has changed around here than I realized.

Mom calls out from the kitchen, “Eve, honey, will you come in and set the table?”

Without any arguments, the teenager heads in to help. Once she’s gone, I walk over to where Michelle is sitting on the couch.

“Hey, you,” I say with a small smile.

She doesn’t take her eyes off her phone. “Hi.”

“How’s it going?”

“Fine.”

Man, this is more of a cold shoulder than I got from Mom. This whole thing is strange to me because back in the day, Michelle and I were inseparable. She was my best friend, and I was hers. She was the first one I told when I got into my dream college. And I was the first one she told when she was pregnant.

After I left, we stayed close for a while. But between me trying to do a full course load and then starting my own business and her trying to finish high school with a baby, life just got in the way.

Now that I’m back, I’d love for us to get back to how we used to be. Sure, Veronica and I have an amazing relationship, but I’d love to rekindle that same bond with Michelle.

Trying to break the ice a little, I ask, “So, Eve is struggling in Spanish, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

That gets her to finally look at me. But the second her eyes hit mine, I want her to go back to staring at the phone. “Liz, let’s not act like you care.”

That cuts me like a knife. Maybe I haven’t been around much, but I still care deeply about her and about Eve. They’re family. And I plan to make damn sure that Michelle remembers that.

“What? Of course I—”

Before I can finish that sentence, Dylan comes walking through the front door with our youngest sister, Jo. Both of them walk over to give me big hugs and say their hellos.

My one-on-one with Michelle will have to wait.

“Hey, guys!” I greet.

Dylan gives me a hug, but I jokingly push him off. “I’ve already seen you. Let me see my baby sister.”

Jo furrows her eyebrows at me. “Baby? Really?”

“You’ll always be my baby sister.” I pinch her cheek. “Just look how cute you are.”

She looks less than impressed with me. I can’t help but laugh because out of all of the Lawson siblings, Jo is probably the most no-nonsense. She doesn’t take shit from anyone. When she was twelve years old, I remember watching her trying to fight a full-grown man because he bumped into her and didn’t say excuse me.

She may be petite, but man, she is nothing but fire and sarcasm wrapped in a small package. And she’s hilarious. By far, she’s the funniest one out of all of us.

The best part about Jo? She doesn’t hold any type of grudge against me. When she was born, I was twelve. I babysat her some when she was little, but when she came into her formative years, I was already out of the house. Since she was the youngest, I think she was just happy to have one less person to share a bathroom with.

She doesn’t seem to care that I’ve been gone. It’s just always been her normal.

Eve comes walking back in and over to Jo. Resting her arm on Jo’s shoulder, she says, “Man, I don’t know who’s shorter—you or Mom.”

Clearly, Eve got her height from her father.

“Yeah, yeah. Your mom and I are short, but I guarantee you we can both kick your ass.”

Eve puts up her fists and says, “You want to go?”

Jo doesn’t answer but instead does a couple of quick moves that result in her having Eve in a headlock.

Jo looks down at her. “When are you going to learn not to fuck with me?”

Eve cries out, “Uncle Dylan! Help! Get your sister!”

“Oh, no. Unlike you, I do know not to fuck with Jo.”

Michelle gets up from the couch and heads toward the kitchen. “Jo, let her go. I can’t afford a funeral right now.”

When Eve is free, she says, “One day, I’m going to be able to beat you.”

“That’s it, kid. Aim for the stars.”

We just start to do some catching up when Mom calls us all in for dinner. Not wanting to keep her waiting, we all head into the dining room and take our seats around the large table. I try sitting next to Michelle, but when she sees where I sit, she asks Dylan to switch her seats.

Of course, she makes up an excuse. But it’s obvious that she just doesn’t want to sit next to me.

We all start passing around large platters of food so that we can fill our plates. Dad made the lamb, and Mom made a ton of sides—mashed potatoes, green beans, mac and cheese, Brussels sprouts, and rolls. Both of them are damn fine cooks, which would explain why their bar is the number one dinner spot in town.

It’s quiet for the first couple of minutes as everyone starts eating. But it doesn’t take long for the room to fill with loud chatter and laughter. I listen to all the conversations and make a few little statements where I can, but it’s becoming clear that more has changed than I realized.

Dylan is making a decent living at the auto shop while dating any girl he can get his hands on. And he’s looking to try to buy a house.

Michelle is working as a dental hygienist and is navigating having a teenager. And Eve is getting ready to go into high school and has a crush on a boy in her Spanish class.

I think we just found why she isn’t doing well in that particular class.

Jo is working doing construction—which somehow doesn’t surprise me at all.

The only one we are missing is Ronnie. And fuck, I miss her like crazy. With her here, I would be a little more at ease. Yes, all of these people are my family, and I love them more than I love myself. But as they all laugh at their inside jokes and tell stories that I wasn’t around for, it feels more like I’m a stranger, on the outside looking in. I realize that my being gone for as long as I have been has done some damage that I’m now going to have to work hard to undo.

As I’m finishing eating, Eve directs the conversation to me, “So, Aunt Liz, how was LA? Was it as glamorous as people say it is?”

Before I can answer, Michelle gives a snide, “I doubt it.”

“LA was nice,” I tell her. “The weather there is amazing. But it’s crazy expensive.”

“Did you meet any celebrities?” Her eyes light up.

“Uhm, a few.”

Michelle leans into Eve. “She was busy rubbing elbows with celebrities instead of ever bothering to come home. Maybe when her life fell apart, she should have gone to live with her new friends instead of with the people she abandoned.”

Ouch.

“Michelle, do you have something you want to say?” I ask.

Stabbing her fork into the lamb, she replies, “I think I just did. Or did living in Los Angeles take away your hearing as well as your soul?”

I look over to my mom for some backup, but I should know better. She just sits at one end of the table, hanging on every word that Michelle says. Of course. Michelle is her little doppelganger.

“I don’t understand why you’re so mad,” I tell her. “I was just living my life. Isn’t that what we are supposed to do when we grow up?”

“Sure, Liz. Live your life. But maybe you should remember that there’s a whole slew of people that you left behind. Maybe going there and having your life completely fall apart is some kind of karma for all that you’ve done. Maybe you deserved it.”

In typical Lawson fashion, her words cut me down to the bone. We always have a way of hitting you where it hurts the most.

I”m going to say something, but my dad has other plans. “Enough!” He shouts from the other end of the table.

It’s not often that my father raises his voice, so when he does, people take notice.

Still in a loud volume, he says, “I know that there’s some bad blood here, but I’m not going to let it taint our whole damn family. Your mother didn’t birth five of you with no drugs for you all to be hateful to each other. Yes, Lizzie left. Things happened. It’s over. She’s back now, and we are going to make the best of it. And for the record, she didn’t deserve the awful things that happened to her, so I don’t ever want to hear that come out of anyone’s mouth ever again. Are we clear?”

Everyone just gives small nods, and Michelle looks annoyed as fuck that Dad took my side over hers.

The room goes silent, and all anyone hears is the sound of forks hitting our plates.

Next thing we know, everyone is jumping out of their seats because Ronnie comes busting through the door.

Holding a giant bottle of tequila, she screams, “Who’s ready to have some fun?!”

She looks around, trying to read the room. “Alright, what did I miss?”

“You’re kidding me?” Ronnie asks with her jaw hanging open. “Dad got mad and yelled at Michelle, and I missed it?”

I nod.

“Fuck. I should have been here five minutes earlier.”

“Is she always so cranky these days?” I ask.

“I don’t think so, but I’m not around all the time.” She looks at our brother. “What do you think?”

“I mean, she’s always great to me. But who can blame her? I’m delightful,” he jokes.

Ronnie, Dylan, and I all decided to hang out on the back deck to enjoy some of the tequila that Ronnie brought.

Every time I take a sip, I make the most God-awful face. Meanwhile, Ronnie doesn’t make a face at all. She looks no different than if she was just sipping on water.

“How do you do that?” I ask her.

“Practice,” she says with a wink. “Some of the drinks I’ve had South of the border have been strong enough to knock me on my ass. After that, tequila doesn’t seem all that bad.”

We all take another sip before she asks, “So, how’s it being back so far? Anything exciting happen?”

“Well, I’ve run into the grumpy owner of the auto shop more times than I thought were possible in my short amount of time back.”

She looks at me. “And we are still thinking this is a bad thing, right?”

“Yes, it’s a bad thing! He’s an asshole! By the way, why didn’t you tell me Dylan was working for him?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “I guess I didn’t even think about it. He’s been working for him for a while now. I thought you knew.”

Yeah, yeah.

“I swear everywhere I go, there he is. I can’t get away from him. I even saw him this morning when I went out running. Oh, and yesterday, I went to the shop to grab my stuff and ran into him. I spilled my bags all over the place, and not only did the man see my thong but he saw my vibrator. Veronica, he saw my vibrator!” I say each of the last words slower for emphasis.

She shrugs her shoulders. “Eh, who cares?”

“I care! There are some things that should just be kept private. You wouldn’t care if a man saw your vibrator?”

“Why the hell would I care? Let them see their possible replacement. Keeps their skills sharp.”

Dylan looks appalled. “Ew.”

But Veronica keeps talking like he’s not even there. “Once, a guy and I were seeing each other fairly seriously—to the point where I was staying there. The sex was good, not great. I went on a last-minute trip and accidentally left a box of sex toys there. When I came back, it was the best sex we’d ever had.”

Dylan asks, “You have a whole box?”

She gestures into the air. “Dyl, a girl has to have choices. It all depends on what we are in the mood for. So, yes, I have a box of fake dicks. So, sue me.”

“You know, Ronnie, I think sometimes, you and I are far too comfortable with each other.”

He stands up to walk inside, but before he goes through the door, she tells him, “Don’t forget, Dylan. You are always one click of a vibrator away from being replaced in the sack. Stay sharp, my friend.”

When he’s inside, we both start laughing so hard we cry.

“Do you ever get tired of doing that to him?” I ask.

“Never. Growing up with four sisters, you’d think he’d be used to this by now.”

“Were you just kidding about the box of dicks?”

“Oh, no, that was totally true. The part of the story that I didn’t tell Dylan was that I left them there on purpose. When I came back from Spain, it was like the guy studied How to Please a Pussy: 101. Because damn.” She trails off and gets lost in the memory for a moment.

“Man, I need to get laid,” I mutter. “Don’t get me wrong, my vibrator is good, but I want the real thing.”

“How long has it been?”

“Over a year,” I groan.

She gasps as though I just told her the pope died or something.

No, scratch that. This is Veronica.

She gasps as though I just told her Jason Mamoa died.

“You could always hook up with a hot auto mechanic who is bearded and muscled,” she offers.

“If you are talking about Jack, there’s nothing that would get me into bed with that man. He’d call me princess the whole time, and we would be repulsed by each other.”

She points her finger at me. “Hey, don’t knock the hate sex. It’s pretty damn good.”

“Eh, no thanks. There was a young kid at the auto shop who did hit on me, though.”

She looks taken aback. “How young?”

“Not that young, Ronnie. Early twenties, maybe? His name is Jamie.”

“Oh, I know him,” she says. “The problem with younger guys is they have great stamina, but half the time, they don’t know where anything is. They need a tracker just to find your clit. You have to be their teacher, and that’s just too much work. But maybe he would be a nice palette cleanser for you while you get back on the horse.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Changing the subject, I say, “I’m really glad you came tonight. This dinner would have been miserable without you. How long are you staying?”

With a sad face, she replies, “I have to be back at the airport in less than seven hours. Dad is driving me in the middle of the night.”

“Nooooo,” I groan.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. Just remember that things will get better. Every single day, they’ll get a little bit easier. And one day, things won’t seem that bad.”

Laying my head on her shoulder, I ask, “Can’t we just go ahead and skip to that part?”