5. Lance
five
Lance
Present
Not for the first time, the sight of my home brings an ache to my chest as the driver turns right down my street.
The inside of the car gets fuzzy as I push the twinge of loneliness away and turn to Cam. “Thanks for the party and the ride, my friend. It was one hell of a night.”
“You’re welcome, Captain.”
I roll my eyes at Cam, making him chuckle. The pain in my ass refused to let me take my own car home from the club and forced me to carpool with him on his way home to Malibu.
“Knock it off,” I grumble.
“I’m honestly surprised Reed kept it classy,” Cam says.
Reed is the party animal in the group and the organizer of Cam’s bachelor party.
The man went all out. Steak dinner, poker, a burlesque show, and a VIP after-party at some club in Hollywood.
Classy isn’t usually in Reed’s wheelhouse.
Debauchery? Definitely. Still, Reed promised a refined gentleman theme, and he delivered.
The arrival of Nico’s agent, Damien, at the after-party threw things off for a bit, but we recovered once we took out the trash. The trash being Damien and his scummy little partner, Kyle, who was not invited. I think Cam invited Damien as some sort of peace offering to his future brother-in-law.
Cam and Nico sometimes struggle with getting along after years of shit-talking and feuding. But after tonight’s show of loyalty, I doubt there will be any more awkwardness. Nico witnessed Damien’s true colors, and when the two faced off, Cam was ready to back Nico up. We all were.
Fuck with one of us, fuck with all of us.
“Same.” I remove my cell from my jacket pocket and tap the screen, opening the gate to my driveway. The driver pulls up to my front door, putting the car in park. I push open the passenger door and climb out, fumbling with my keys as I pull them from my pocket.
Cam chuckles. “Want the number for the security guy I hired to upgrade your locks and put in cameras?”
“What for?” I turn around to find Cam standing behind me.
He shrugs. “The biometric locks are easier. Make sure no one is on your property when you’re gone.”
“It’s just me.”
“Not forever,” Cam says as he walks the twelve feet from the car to the front door by my side.
“Sure,” I grumble, hoping he’ll get off my back. “You didn’t have to walk me to the door, you know.”
I know I’m drunk, but I don’t need a damn babysitter.
“I know. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this drunk before.”
Touché.
“I blame Reed and that damn bottle of whiskey.” My head spins, and my stomach lurches. I’m going to regret that last glass in the morning.
“Something going on?” the perceptive bastard asks.
Gwen’s pretty face pops into my head. She might be the other reason I drank too much whiskey tonight.
Fucking hell.
All the time I spent looking for her, and she was right under my nose the whole time. Of course, she’s my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss’s …
Wait, is that too many bosses?
Fuck, I’m drunk.
Gwen’s dad is Ted Montgomery, the Los Angeles Evaders team owner. The little hope I had of finding the gorgeous blonde who rocked my world fizzled down the damn drain when she uttered her last name.
I shove the thoughts of Gwen away as best I can. I thought drinking would help me keep my mind from wandering to her, but it’s only made it worse.
Nothing short of a lobotomy will remove her from my brain at this point. She’s consumed my every thought since I saw her last week.
Cam follows me into my place and looks around as I flick on the lights. “You’ve had this place for a while now; are you ever going to have us over?”
“What for? You’re the one with the beach in your backyard.” The excuse slips with ease.
It’s true. I haven’t had company since I lost my first home in the fires. I can’t figure out if it’s because the place is new or if it’s missing something.
I’m still in the Canyons, and while it’s not surrounded by as much greenery as I would like, the five-bedroom Spanish-style casita drew my attention with its large, gated fence, lush hedges, brand-new pool, and enveloping vegetation.
The design of the property gives it a sense of seclusion, which I usually enjoy. Lately, not so much.
“True.” Cam chuckles.
“Fuck.” I place my hand on the wall as I wobble, toeing off my shoes and placing them on the rack in the foyer.
“You okay, man?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
The playfulness I’ve become accustomed to seeing in Cam’s green gaze is gone, replaced with concern and curiosity. “I don’t know. Something seems off with you. You’ve been acting weird for the past week, and you’ve been different since the World Series.”
My heart picks up the pace, sprinting to the finish line. Masking my anxiety, I scoff a harsh breath. “You’re seeing things. I’m fine.”
“If it’s about your”—Cam catches himself before he says dad—“family …” He runs his hand through his hair.
My friend has always been perceptive and empathetic.
Even when he was living his “good-time guy” life, he noticed things others don’t.
“Hell, this is coming out all wrong. I know it’s not my place to say anything, but I’m here if you want to talk.
And as for family, you have us. Alright? You’re not alone.”
My friend’s words hit hard.
Maybe it’s the alcohol, but my throat tightens and my eyes prickle. “I know. Don’t think I could get rid of you if I wanted.”
Cam laughs. “No, you can’t. You’re stuck with me now.”
“I don’t really want to get into it, but you’re right. Something is bothering me. But I’ll work through it.”
I wasn’t raised by a father who shared his feelings.
He prefers to bury them down deep. My mother is the opposite.
She wears her emotions on her sleeve and speaks freely about her feelings.
It’s always been easy to talk to her about things, but lately it’s been harder to do so without feeling as if I’m putting her in the middle of me and my dad.
The last thing I want is to put a wedge between my parents.
“Is it about the woman who disappeared from your room?” he asks, tucking his hands into his pockets.
“You could say that.”
Cam nods. “Some women come along and knock us on our asses, don’t they?”
“I guess they do.” I chuckle.
Cam and I say our goodbyes, and I watch him climb into the town car and drive off into the night. After the gate closes, I lock the front door and head toward the primary bedroom at the back of the house.
The fully decorated rooms sit in darkness, untouched by guests and life. A somber feeling washes over me as I strip out of my clothes and slip into bed, too drunk and tired to shower.
I stare up at the ceiling blanketed in blackness and think about Gwen until sleep swallows me. Even then, I dream of her and the night we met.