Chapter Thirty-Seven
Lainey
Igrab a cloth to clean up the mess a client just made when our second in charge, Courtney, pats me on the arm. “Lainey, can you please run out back and tell Seb we need more Diamond Stix Vodka?”
By “need more,” she actually means we need to find some. We don’t stock it. It’s an exclusive vodka that our clientele generally don’t ask for, but tonight, that’s not the case.
“Seb won’t be long,” Courtney tells the young woman in front of her. “But I’ll send over a bottle of our next finest vodka while you wait.”
The woman looks flustered, but she nods as she rushes away.
A large obnoxious group—actually not a group, a famous musician and his entourage—arrived about an hour ago, and it’s been chaos ever since. I haven’t been able to think, let alone get time to look at my phone. And I’m dying to check it.
“Seb, we need Diamond St—”
“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Seb says with his nostrils flared. “I knew this was going to happen one day. I told Shauna several times that we need to keep some exclusive bottles back here, just in case.”
“We’ve got lots of expensive stuff.”
“Yes, but we need unique, Lainey. We need the stuff that makes the headlines.”
“It’s a huge outlay if no one… Why are we arguing about this? We don’t have it, and Courtney needs us to get it.”
“Us?” He smiles.
“You. She needs you to get it. I obviously can’t go. Plus, I’m needed out there.” I point over my shoulder as I back away, but when I catch sight of my locker, I momentarily pause. I’m so close. My phone is so close.
“Aren’t you ‘needed out there’?” Seb says when he sees my hesitation, making me sigh.
“Yeah. I am. I just wanted a second away from the madness.”
And a second to check if Thomas has messaged me because I’m almost certain that by now, he probably has. It’s approaching ten p.m. and he met Summer at six. They may very well still be catching up, but the sinking feeling deep in my chest tells me they’re not. And I have no idea how he’s going to be dealing with it, happy ending or otherwise.
Shaking off my thoughts, I turn to walk away just as Seb mumbles, “I’d rather be you,” and I have to admit, I agree with him. It’s not going to be easy to find that drink, and he has to do it faster than light. I wouldn’t want to be him either. Although, at least he doesn’t have to face the inevitable complaints.
An hour later, Seb comes through with the goods, but it’s an hour too late. The guys aren’t happy. We’ve had sixty minutes of hell trying to placate our guests, and with the added stress of Thomas, I’m at breaking point. “Did anyone call Shauna and beg her to come down here?” one of the new girls asks, not even bothering to hide her panic from the clients.
“We don’t need Shauna,” Courtney says through a forced smile. “It’s her wedding anniversary. We’ve got this.”
I nod, because no matter how hard tonight is, she’s right. We can do it. We’ve had tough nights before, and we’ll have them again. It’s the nature of the job. But right now, my heart’s not in it.
It’s not until eleven twenty-six—to be exact—that I finally get a break, and I can’t remember a time I’ve ever run to my phone so fast.
Only to be disappointed when I find the notifications empty.
I know that should be a good thing, that maybe it means Thomas and Summer lost track of time and they’re finally reconnecting properly. But it could also mean the opposite, and it’s that part that worries me.
Bringing up Thomas’s contact, I hover over the call button, deciding what to do. On one hand, he could be leaving me alone because he knows I’m at work, but on the other, if he’s still with Summer, my call could raise a lot of questions that he shouldn’t have to answer right now.
“Ugh. What do I do?” I whisper as I drop onto the couch in our break room.
“Call him?” Seb says, popping up out of nowhere, falling onto the couch beside me. “Nothing out there”—he waves his hands in the direction of the bar—“will ever be worth the sad look you have going on in here.” He waves the same hands in front of my face.
“I’m not sad.”
“Oh, you definitely are. I’ve been with my woman for long enough to recognize emotions.”
“Your woman?”
“She loves it when I call her that.”
“Okay.” I laugh.
“Anyway. This wasn’t about that. It was about you and the way you’re desperate to call some guy who probably doesn’t deserve you.”
“What?” My laugh turns awkward. “Why wouldn’t he deserve me.”
“I’m a guy. I’m willing to admit most of my kind would fall into that category.”
“Wow. Does talking like that lead to the loss of many friendships?”
“Friendships? Who has time for friends between this place and my girl?”
“She’s a lucky woman.”
“She is.” He laughs just as his phone rings. “And she’s calling me now. Call him. You know you want to.” Without another word, he answers his phone and walks out the back door, leaving me in silence.
Taking his advice, I dial Thomas’s number, and the second he answers, I know that he needs me. So when Courtney pops her head through the door to check where I am, I tell her I’m leaving and pray there are no repercussions.
It’s not hard to find Thomas when I get to the bar he’s hiding in. With the median age of the patrons looking to be about fifty, he stands out like a sore thumb, and that’s with Thomas bringing the average age down. On top of that, he’s also the only one alone in a booth, with the other six drinkers hovering around the bar.
As I stare his way, it’s clear that he’s wasted just by looking at him. With hooded eyes, he rests his head against the back of his seat, the drink still locked in his grasp, close to tipping over. As I walk his way, my heart cracks, and while I don’t even know how his night went, it doesn’t matter. There’s more going on than his issues with Summer.
I’m worried he has a drinking problem, and I wish I’d asked him about it sooner, when I first questioned it. But how do I bring up something like that when for the past few weeks, he hasn’t even touched a drop of alcohol around me or called me drunk, and we’ve spoken daily.
No one looks my way as I move across the room; the server doesn’t even break from his conversation. But when I slide into Thomas’s booth, I feel the heat of someone’s gaze, turning to find another server exiting from the back, her eyes locked on me as she strides over, a scowl firmly in place.
“He doesn’t want company,” she says when she comes to a stop next to Thomas. “You’re not the first girl to approach him tonight. We had a biker chick in here earlier. He’s not interested.”
Thomas’s eyes flash open and immediately lock on mine, a lopsided smile lighting up his features. “You’re here?” he says as his smile widens. “How are you here?” He speaks as though we didn’t just have a conversation, and that’s worrying. “Also,” he slurs, his eyes struggling to focus, “why are you on that side of the table?”
With a brow raised and my bottom lip trapped between my teeth, I shrug, making Thomas groan.
“Get over here.”
I get up, and it’s only when the server has to step aside to let me through that Thomas notices she’s there. “She’ll have water, thanks,” he says, his eyes quickly moving back to mine, making me smirk.
She looks my way, asking for confirmation with a pissed-off expression, so I smile and nod. I’m going to guess she thought she’d have a shot with a drunk football player, but not tonight. Not on my watch.
Thomas doesn’t wait until she walks away before he pulls me into his arms, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I needed to see you. I knew with just one touch, you’d erase it all… you’d numb the pain.” I turn to face him and he drops his forehead to mine, breathing in. “Mmm, I was right,” he whispers, brushing our noses together.
My eyes briefly fall closed, but before I allow myself to get caught up in the moment, I pull away. “How did it go with Summer?” I ask nervously, holding my breath.
“Gooood. We talked about stuff, we laughed, Dylan was there. It was goood.”
That’s good. I think. So why are we here? “I’m really happy to hear that. Want to talk about it?”
“Nah, not tonight.” I knew that answer was coming even before he said it.
“Can I take you home, then?” I ask, not feeling entirely comfortable in our present situation, but also knowing he’s going to need a bed. Soon.
“Hell, yes.” Thomas lights up. “Always.” He tries to wink, and I can’t help but smile. I hate that he’s been through something to put him in this position, but he’s a little bit adorable tonight. Very different from the last time I found him drunk, and maybe that’s a good thing. Progress even.
“Come on, then.”
I shuffle out of the booth, as Thomas follows, and when he stands, I curl my arm through his, hoping I can give him some stability.
Flagging down the server as we walk, I grab my card to pay the tab, but Thomas cuts in, pushing my hand away, before waving his wallet in front of the machine.
“You are not paying for this mess,” he says, as I push open the door, the fresh night air drawing my attention to how stifling the bar was.
“That’s better.” I relax, as my eyes bounce between my car and Thomas’s rental, making the decision to go to his truck.
“Look at the sky,” Thomas says, pointing to the darkness above us. “It’s full of stars tonight. Like that song by Coldplay.” He starts singing “A Sky Full of Stars” and I have to bite back my grin. Once again, he gets the words wrong, but I let him have this one. He looks happy.
“I like this song for us,” he says suddenly. “Have I told you that?”
He hasn’t mentioned it, and as I think of the words, the real words, it saddens me a little. Does he think I’m going to hurt him, or the other way around?
Ignoring what are probably random ramblings from alcohol, I ask Thomas for his keys, then help him into the passenger seat.
As I jump into the driver’s seat, I send out a little prayer that my car will be in one piece when I come back to get it later or tomorrow.
“Where to?” I ask, before switching on the ignition.
“Kryptonite” by Three Doors Down is blaring when the music comes on, and I rush to turn it down.
“This one could be ours too,” Thomas says, confusing me even more, until he fills me in. “You’re my Kryptonite. You’re the only one that could bring me to my knees.”
Though a giddy feeling settles in my stomach, I try not to read too much into it, knowing he won’t remember it tomorrow. When he sings, actually getting the words right for once, I smile, squeezing his leg. “You’re all about the songs tonight.”
“I told you; I like music. And for some reason, I’ve always associated songs with you. It’s mostly songs about the sky though.”
It’s an odd confession, but I kind of like it. I’m about to ask him which songs specifically, when he says, “Oh, and I’m staying at the Ball House,” immediately silencing my thoughts.
I wait a few seconds, expecting him to laugh and tell me he’s joking, but when I turn to look his way, his eyes are closed and he has a peaceful expression in place as his breathing deepens.
Okay. Ball House it is. God, I hope this isn”t as bad as I imagine it will be.
Ipull up at the curb out front and leave the truck running before glancing over to Thomas passed out next to me.
I want to believe he can handle the drinking, that it’s not a problem, but this is beyond social, and if I’m being honest with myself, I’m terrified for him. Terrified for what this path will do to his health, to his dreams. I know it’s the offseason, but he said he had a good chat with Summer. They’re reconnecting and yet…he still drank himself into oblivion.
I reach over to shake him, but he looks so serene, I consider putting the car in park to let him sleep it off until morning. But if I do that, I’m making a decision about Thomas’s life that I have no right to make. I can’t leave him alone, and if Luke notices me here, God knows what he’ll do. Or how he’ll react. If we’re going to face that, we have to face it together. When we’re both of sound mind.
I could go somewhere else, but he needs proper sleep and so do I. I have to work again tomorrow, and I can’t miss my shift after bailing tonight.
Decision made, I jog around to the passenger side and assess my options before trying to wake Thomas. But when he doesn’t stir, I realize I’m in trouble.
I can’t do this alone. Who was I kidding?
My eyes flash to the Ball House, and I know what I have to do. I just have to pray I’m making the right call.
Nate answers on the third ring, his voice groggy from sleep. “Hello.” He clears his throat. “Lainey?”
“Hi, Nate. I’m so sorry to call you.” Please be here. Please be here. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
“No sweat. I just…didn’t know I had your number in my contacts.”
Ugh, this is bad.I laugh awkwardly. “I know. I’m sorry.” I cringe. “That was Luke. He borrowed your phone to call me one day, and he always saves important numbers. It’s a habit. He must have done it without thinking.” It’s the same reason I have Nate’s number.
“Sounds like Luke. Is everything okay?”
“Not exactly. I’m out in front of the Ball House, and I could use your help if you’re here. I’ve got Thomas with me and he’s…ah…”
Nate sighs, and I have this feeling he knows without me telling him. “I’ll be right down.”
Hanging up, I plant my ass on the curb beside Thomas’s open door and wait, my arms folded over my knees. This is not how I pictured my night going, or any night spent with Thomas, but at least I could be there for him.
Nate’s downstairs faster than I expected, and when I turn to face the judgment in his eyes, I don’t find any. He smiles, and the warmth of it fills my heart as I stand, grateful to see him.
“I’m sorry again, but God, I’m happy you’re home.”
“Please don’t apologize. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to help. I’m not sure I can lift him.” Nate smiles again and I want to laugh, but nothing about this situation seems funny.
“You knew what I was going to say, didn’t you?” I ask, bringing the conversation back to his drinking.
“I did.”
“Have you ever spoken to him about it?”
“I have.” He answers with no emotion as though he’s stating the facts, and something about that response makes me more comfortable. He’s not judging Thomas. At all. At least, I don’t think so. “He doesn’t think he has a problem,” Nate adds, still without expression.
“But you do?” I ask, even though deep down I know the answer and I should have questioned him sooner.
Nate finally breaks his character, giving me a sympathetic smile. “I do.”
“Shit.” I glance over at a peaceful looking Thomas. “What do we do?”
“We?” His tone suddenly changes, and I question if he’s annoyed, but when I spin around to face him, he winks. “I know about you as well.”
What? My body tenses in panic. “Know what?”
He gives me a pointed look, silently asking me if he really needs to answer that.
I let out a long, slow sigh. “How?”
“Don’t worry.” Nate chuckles. “I’m a lot more observant than your brother.”
Oh shit.“That’s not filling me with ease because he’s actually more observant than many give him credit for.”
“I know. I’m messing with you. Thomas told me.”
“He told you?”
“He did.”
My eyes flash to Thomas in all his drunken glory, and I don’t know whether to slap his mouth shut or kiss his cheek. I wish he’d talk to me about it. About what he wants. And I wish I knew what him telling Nate actually means.
“I don’t suppose you want to fill me in on that conversation?”
“Nope.” Nate pops the p before smirking. “I want to get him into his room for the night and go back to bed. I’ve got shit to do in the morning.”
“Oh, God. Of course.”
Considering he was worried about lifting Thomas, Nate manages to make it look like he’s carrying a child. It helps that Thomas seems to have roused himself enough to drag his feet slowly, rather than being a dead weight.
After dropping him on the bed, which thankfully happens to be on the ground floor, Nate turns to leave, but I stop him.
“Should I stay?” I whisper, gently grabbing his elbow, pulling him to a halt before he walks out the door.
Nate’s brow furrows before he glances toward the bed. “Tonight? That’s not a question I can—”
“No, I mean here in Heartwood. In the US.”
While I’ve never spoken to Nate about my work in Indonesia, I’ve recently discovered that Luke’s friends seem to know most of my business. The trip isn’t going to come as a shock to him, but canceling might.
Nate’s eyes widen before he looks away. “That’s definitely not a decision I can make,” he says, looking back at me. “But before changing your entire life like that, you should ask yourself how you being here will help him. You’re the only one that knows all that’s going on.”
He offers me another sympathetic smile before squeezing my arm, and when he walks away, I briefly glance back at Thomas, processing Nate’s words.
Can I help him?
I thought I already was, but now we’re here. What if this had happened during the season? If he loses the team, he’ll spiral even more.
I can’t go. Not yet anyway. There will be more programs to apply for. It’s not like I’ll be throwing away a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I was running. I was using the volunteer trip to escape my problems, but focusing on Thomas helps me with that too.
And Thomas is more important.
Decision made, I turn to leave, when Thomas stirs. “Lainey?” Goddammit.
“Yes, it’s me.” I spin to face him with a soft smile. “Go back to sleep.”
“Where are you going?” He frowns as though he can’t fathom me leaving, and I almost giggle.
“I’m going home. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Stay.”
“What?”
“Stay. Please. We don’t have to do anything. I just want to hold you.”
My heart aches, but he’s not thinking clearly. “I can’t stay, Thomas. I shouldn’t even be here. My brother would flip.”
“It’s a bit late to care about your brother, isn’t it? Please.” His voice breaks as he sits up, and his sad expression makes it hard for me to resist him. But I’m the sober one. I have to say no. Otherwise we’ll both regret it in the morning.
“Thomas, you passed out. I had to get Nate to help you inside. I think it’s best if—”
“What do you mean, Nate?” Thomas’s eyes widen as he cuts me off and frantically scans the room. “We’re at the Ball House?”
“We are.”
“Fuck. Why would you bring me here!?”
What?His gaze locks on mine and the look of horror on his face has me cringing. Is he kidding me?
“Keep your voice down.” I dart forward, leaning in close so he can hear me whisper. “You told me to come here.”
“You need to leave.”
“What?”
“Please, Lainey.” Even in the low light, I can see his face pale as his eyes flash to the door. “I don’t care about what your brother thinks of me, but he can’t find you here. Not now. It will change how he feels about you.”
“Thomas.”
“Let’s talk to him. Tomorrow even. We can tell him everything. But not like this.”
The sheer panic in his eyes has my stomach sinking. It shouldn’t be like this. We shouldn’t care. But Thomas is right. Luke finding me in the Ball House isn’t the best way to handle the situation.
“Okay.”
Thomas visibly relaxes as he slowly releases a sigh. “Thank you. I’m sorry, it’s—”
“It’s fine. I get it.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” The panic returns until I nod.
“Sure,” I say, trying to hide my pain. “Call me when you wake.”