Chapter 34
PRESENT
DELANEY
I’m past the point of flinching at the burn of vodka in my throat as I toss another shot back. Leaning the entirety of my body weight against Poppy, I rock to the classic country music playing in the bar and smack a kiss to her cheek.
“You’re the best, you know?”
She sighs happily. “So are you.”
“I could do without the vodka, though.”
“No, you couldn’t. Oh! I’m still waiting for the juicy deets,” she declares, an arm slumping across my shoulders.
“I don’t want to talk about him, Pops.”
“Either do I! But I wanna talk about you.”
“I’m still me without Darren.”
Her eyes dig into my face as I wave the bartender down again. “That’s not what I meant. Of course you are. But together! I’m talking together, Della. It’s magic. Fireworks and rainbows.”
“You’re drunk,” I tell her, fully aware that I am too.
My ass feels glued to the bar stool when I lean away from her and drop my elbows to the table. I’m off-balance, but yeah . . . this position is good. Great .
“I’m not just saying it because I’m drunk and Darren’s my brother. He’s a douche-face sometimes, but he’s one of the good ones. He’s missed you.”
“You don’t need to talk him up. I know how great he is. I know it too well.”
“He loves you.”
I tuck my chin into my chest and shake my head before immediately looking up as the world tips. “He used to love me.”
The bartender, a dude named Matty who’s lending his services from a bar called the Frosty Mug in a town a couple of hours away, slides two shots and a big ol’ glass of water across to me before slipping away.
I frown at the water and take the shots. Poppy takes hers from me and sniffs the vodka.
“Is he putting all of these drinks on Garrison’s tab?” I ask.
“Of course,” she answers, making it sound obvious. “The only time my man ever looks at his credit card statement is to see if I’ve spent anything.”
“He doesn’t want you to?”
Her laugh is loud and wild. “No, babe. He likes me spending his money a bit more than I like spending it.”
“Oh.”
“It sounds backwards, right?”
“I just feel like I don’t know him at all. Isn’t that wrong? I should have sat him down and grilled him about you at the beginning.”
“He’d have pissed you off for sure,” she says after taking her shot.
I take mine and tap the empty glass against the bar. The alcohol slides down the hatch like water.
“I heard about him when he got to town and knew that you’d be the only one with the nerve to work his shit out and bring out the good in him.”
“And work I did!” she cheers, her head falling back and shaking wildly .
Her hair whips back and forth across her back as she shuts her eyes and taps a beat on the bar. The pink tint to her skin isn’t just from the warmth in here. It’s a show of her happiness. The kind that goes bone-deep.
I wrap an arm around her body and pull her into me, keeping her locked there. “You’re my favourite person in the world.”
“Second favourite, but I’ll take it, baby cakes.” Poppy returns the hug and presses a wet kiss to my cheek. “I love you too.”
“I want to love him again,” I announce, the vodka cracking open both my head and my heart.
Poppy stiffens in surprise before relaxing again. “Do you think you ever stopped?”
“Maybe or maybe not. I’m not sure. I can’t be sure right now. Not without having . . . more .”
“Ask him for that, Della. Make him give you more and more and fucking more until you have what you need! How else are you supposed to figure things out?” she asks, slurring heavily.
I can hear the drinks making my words sloppy when I say, “He should have married me.”
“He should have.”
“And you should have been an aunt to my baby, not Sasha’s. She never deserved him.”
Oh, my God.
I choke on disbelief, coughing into my wrist as I gawk at the bar. Poppy’s hold on me tightens, becoming impossible to slip free of. Her lack of immediate disgust with my comments is more comforting than she knows.
“I’ve hated her from the moment I met her. Everyone knew she had a crush on Darren all through high school. She wanted him, and once she had him, she broke his soul,” Poppy hisses.
I check for traces of venom on the corners of her lips. “He lost himself, didn’t he?”
“He did, but there was nothing I or anyone else could do to help him. Not when he was stuck in that marriage—in that house—with her. He designed that house, and she hated everything about it.”
“The house he lives in now? How could anyone hate that house?”
“Oh, yeah. He used this custom, stamped tile in the bathroom that she complained about for weeks. It wasn’t my style, sure, but it was unique, and he loved it. They’re what got him featured in that first magazine, actually. Did you read it?”
I sip a breath between my lips, bewilderment coursing through my veins. “What was stamped on the tiles?”
“They’re different mountaintops. All from the Rockies, I think.”
“I’ll be right back,” I whisper, wiggling in her hold.
She lets me go, and I step off the stool, wobbling slightly. Once I’ve straightened, I give her a thumbs-up and head for the bathroom. I’ve barely opened the door before I’m pulling out my phone and making a call.
The line only rings once before he answers. “Delaney?”
“You used the tiles in your bathroom. My dream tiles.”
Silence. Too much silence.
“Say something!” I shout down the line, feeling like with every passing second, I’m losing my hold on myself.
The bathroom is empty. It’s so small it’s cramped as I stand in front of the sinks and stare at my reflection in the mirror.
Beneath the lipstick heart drawn on the corner, my eyes are wide and dark with my expanded pupils but .
. . still clear. I see my emotions as starkly as I feel them. They’re everywhere.
“Where are you?”
“Why did you use my tiles, Darren? Why would you put them in the same house where you slept beside someone else every night?”
“I didn’t sleep beside Sasha in that house. Not once.”
My chest expands to make room for my heart to swell. “Don’t lie to me. ”
“I’m not. She slept in the room beside Abbie’s. I slept across the hall.”
“You hated those tiles,” I whisper, spinning to face the stalls when it becomes too much to stare at myself any longer. “They were supposed to be impossible to design around. That’s what you said when I brought them up.”
“I made it my mission to figure it out. Now, tell me where you are,” he murmurs, his voice soft and inviting.
“Would you come if I did?”
“Yes.”
I palm my throat, feeling the racing pulse beneath my fingers. “Peakside. I’m with Poppy.”
“I’m on my way.”
“I haven’t changed my mind about us,” I ramble, the clarification singeing my stomach like a nasty burn.
“Not yet, Elle. But I told you that I’ll be patient, and I meant it. All I need is a chance to try and change your mind.”
“You’ll need more than one.”
“I’m okay with that.”
The bathroom door opens, and a woman walks in. She doesn’t spare me a look before diving into a stall. I roll my lip between my teeth, thinking.
“I’m drunk.”
“I know.”
“Be here before I change my mind.”
“I’m nearly there already.”
“And it’s Delaney .”
I hang up the call and leave the bathroom before I can talk myself out of this. Poppy’s still where I left her, but she’s moved on to some sort of frozen drink now. There are two tall red slushies waiting on the bar when I slip back onto my stool.
Taking a sip of the drink, I moan at the sweet strawberry flavour. The alcohol is hidden to the point I only catch the tail of it, making it far more dangerous than vodka shots .
“It’s nice drinking with someone who doesn’t like margaritas. I’m over them,” she mumbles.
“This is way better.”
“You look . . . less sad,” she notes, eyeing me curiously.
I keep my straw in my mouth while saying, “Your brother is coming.”
“I know. He was with the guys when you called.”
“Garrison told you?” I pout.
Maybe it’s the alcohol finally washing away my worries or the whole calling Darren thing, but I’m feeling good now. Free, like if the ceiling floated away, I could grow wings and fly after it. I don’t remember the last time I felt like this.
“He’s coming too. Not with my brother, but with Brody and Johnny,” she says, voice rising and dropping in pitch like she can’t choose which tone she wants to use.
“So, everyone is coming?”
Poppy smacks her lips together and swipes a line of dew off the side of her glass. “Not everyone. Bryce already has Daisy at home and refuses to give up their alone time. But Anna and Rory are.”
“Okay.”
The back of her hand smacks my forehead. I flinch and whip my head to the side to glare at her.
“What was that for?”
“Checking for a fever,” she says between giggles.
I smack her forehead with the back of my hand. “I don’t have a fever. Do you?”
“Maybe. I’ll ask Garry to be a sexy nurse for me tonight and check.”
“Ew, Pops. I knew that guy was dirty.”
“Is he, or am I?”
“Are you a dirty guy?”
She rolls her eyes and tips her head back to lick my hand. “Don’t judge me.”
“I’m not. Never judged you, Pops. I wish I was half as confident as you are. You see what you want, and you take it. You demand it!”
“You deserve to do the same, Della. Not just from Darren, but the world.”
Holding my breath, I rush out, “I haven’t had sex in a year. What if I’ve forgotten how?”
Poppy twists completely on her stool. Her knees smack into mine as she faces me and takes me by the shoulders, shaking twice. There’s an unspoken surprise in her expression that I think confuses me more than reassures me.
“A year? That long? Oh, I couldn’t do it. What’s your secret?”
I’m hot enough to burn through my clothes. “Don’t ask that!”
“What? I’m just—I just—how?” she gasps.
“In case you forgot, the dating pool hasn’t exactly been flooded! And once I saw Darren at the party?—”
Her hands fly up to cover her ears. “Nope! Don’t continue that. I don’t think I want to know what you did with my brother.”
“Help me, Poppy! I don’t remember how to have sex!”
Slowly, she lowers her hands. A sigh falls between us as she pushes forward.
“You have to remember something. It’s not like you’ve been a prude these last few years. Did you have a favourite position?”
The vodka has done its job to relax me, that’s for sure. I lean toward Poppy and cage my mouth with two hands before whispering, “I’ve only done two.”
“ Two ?” she shrieks, her eyebrows blending in with her hairline. “Two! No wonder you don’t remember. My poor, poor girl.”
My cheeks have their own heartbeat as I hide my face in my hands and groan.
Her shock is warranted. I’m in my early thirties and while yeah, I’ve had sex with a few men, haven’t been all that experimental.
There are only so many different brands of dildos and vibrators, and I forced myself to stop buying them once I filled a second bin.
Staring down at my drink, I decide to let my mouth run free. Poppy’s never judged me for anything, and from what I know about her very pro-sex-toy stance, she’ll probably understand this better than anyone.
“I bought a monster dildo last month. Like, the kind with all the fancy ribbing and everything. I’m too scared to use it. What if it hurts? It’s huge too. At least ten inches and as thick as my fist. I can’t take that. Wouldn’t it hurt?”
Poppy clears her throat pointedly and attempts to straighten her slouched posture. The arm she’s leaning against the booth slips, and she giggles for a second before stopping and kicking me beneath the bar.
“Hi, Darren. Fancy seeing you here. Want some daiquiri?”
I jump off the stool in surprise. Poppy reaches to steady me, but Darren’s hand is there before hers is. I tip my head back and flutter my lashes, growing lost in his warm, brown gaze.
He hovers so close that I can feel the chill from outside on his clothes. It’s a welcome change in temperature, considering my throbbing cheeks and scorching chest.
“I’ll pass on the daiquiri. I’m going to need a clear head for tonight, I think.”
Yeah, he does, because I surely won’t have one.