Chapter 5 Lane
Her fucking motel is on fire!
I replay it over in my head—guess I’m a masochist like that.
“This cannot be happening,” Lois whimpers.
She’s standing in front of me, my chest flat against her back, and when I finally let her go, she sways dangerously on her feet. Donovan has moved over to the security barrier and is talking to the cop. They seem to know each other, but maybe not. Don will chat with anyone.
“Nobody died!” he shouts, trotting back over to us. “Are you okay, Lois? You’re all white.”
She’s still staring into space, her eyelids fluttering.
Jesus, here come the waterworks again.
The crowd is pressing against us, and we need to move. I tug at Heartbreak’s elbow, leading her back to the car, where I slouch against the door with my arms folded.
“Now what?” Lewis perches on the edge of the sidewalk.
I glance at Lois. “The Break Inn isn’t the only place in town.”
“Sure. Of course not,” she whispers, fishing out her phone. “Just dump my bags here, I’ll find somewhere else online. You guys go on, I’ve got this.”
She plops herself down on the sidewalk and sighs heavily.
“Plus, I’ve got Donald’s number.”
“You kept it?” Donovan sits down next to her.
“Yeah.” She plucks out the crumpled sheet of paper from her little bag, and he whips it out of her hand. “Hey! Give it back!”
“Hell no!” My friend tosses it at my feet.
She leans over to grab it, and though I’m tempted to let her, I stamp my foot down, just missing her fingers.
She snatches her hand back. “Are you for real?”
Lewis shakes his head. “Like we said: Stay away from the Duckster!”
She throws her head back and takes in a few deep breaths. Call me twisted, but I kind of get a kick out of seeing her all frustrated.
“We’re gonna help you out; there’s no way we’re leaving you to figure this shit out on your own.” Donovan swipes at his phone. “Guys, let’s do this. Mission Find the Girl a Room!”
The next fifteen minutes are definitely up there on my list of top five most frustrating moments ever.
We make call after call, but all the cheap rooms have been snapped up by the ex-motel’s guests, plus the first home football game of the season is happening in town.
Just our luck. The universe has a sick sense of humor, and, call me a killjoy, but I’m not laughing.
“Sorry, Lois, but it looks like you’re in deeper shit than we thought,” offers Don.
“You must have screwed up in a past life!” Lewis jeers, slinging an arm over her shoulders. “Like, badly.”
I was expecting her to shrug him off, but instead she annoyingly stands there.
“My dad is a Cardinals coach.” Don shoots her a sideways glance. “I can’t promise you anything, but I can ask if he’s got any ideas.”
“Thank you. That’s sweet of you.”
Sweet of him? Please!
“Still want to come and grab a few drinks with us? It’ll do you good!”
Donovan catches me looking at him uneasily and winks.
“No, I’m good. I—”
Donovan cuts her off mid-sentence. “So, okay, let’s drop her at your place, Lane, and then we’ll hit up the party.”
I almost give myself whiplash turning to look at him. “What?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’? You’re just gonna leave her here? Come on!”
And what if I am?
I walk around the car, sharply motioning at Donovan and Lewis to follow me on the side.
“I’ve already done my time, guys! Knock it off,” I whisper-yell, scrunching my hands deeper into my pockets.
“You seem quite pissed, Lane.” Donovan tilts his head at me. “Wouldn’t you say so, Lewis?”
Lewis grins. “Oh, I’d say so, Donny. Big-time!”
“She’s just a girl who needs a place to crash while she figures stuff out,” Donovan says.
“I’m not sharing my place,” I snap. “No way!”
“Jeez—maybe relax a little?” Donovan lets out an over-the-top sigh, and pouts in my direction.
“Look at her, wasting away on the sidewalk like that.”
“You know me, I like my alone time,” I respond.
“She’s a girl,” Lewis says slowly, wriggling his eyebrows.
“And?”
He squeezes my biceps. “And she needs a big, strong man she can rely on for a night or two,” he whispers.
I groan and shove him away, rolling my eyes when he starts to cackle.
“You know, I’m not the only one with a couch, guys. You can have her!”
They exchange meaningful looks, and I swear the hairs on the back of my neck stand.
“Sorry, Lane, but Adam’s cousin is in town.” Don curls a lip. “He’s crashing on our couch.”
“His cousin? What cousin?”
“Dexter,” he says too quickly, just as Lewis blurts out, “Drake.”
“Dexter Drake,” they chant together.
Bitches!
“Let me guess—long-lost cousin, right?”
“Exactly! He’s from LA, and he needed a break from the scene.”
“What scene?”
“All of them!”
“Look, here’s a photo of him. Check it out!”
Don waves his phone in my face, and I swipe it off him, irritated.
“This is Google Images, you dumbass!”
Don shrugs. “In LA, Dexter Drake is a local celebrity.”
“Why are you doing this to me, guys?”
“We’re helping you become your best self, Laney.”
“Imagine she’s your sister! You wouldn’t want her crashing with a total rando.”
“What if she ends up having to stay at Donald’s?” Lewis’s eyes are shining.
“And be real. You wouldn’t want her hanging around our place, either,” Don finishes, all smug.
The two idiots can barely contain their excitement, and I know them way too well: They aren’t going to give up.
I don’t know what they’re angling for, but I do know I’m fucked.
My folks really did the bare minimum when it came to raising me, but I’m not a complete asshole.
Not to the point where I’d leave a girl high and dry like this, anyway.
“Fuck!” I yell, as I start striding toward the sidewalk. “Heartbreak, get in the car!”
She jerks her head up. “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you back to my place.”
“How come?”
“Get. In. The. Car.” I point.
Just before I slide into my seat, I turn back to my so-called besties.
“You guys are staying here. I’m not driving you anywhere. Figure it out!”
As revenge plans go, this one is pretty lame: All they have to do is message Adam and they’ll have themselves a new driver. But it feels good, and that’s all that counts.
“See you later,” Lewis coos, waggling his fingers at me. “Have a good evening, Lois!”
I drive without saying a word, the music turned up to the max. She likes Tool, huh? Well, she’s getting it.
I screech to a halt in front of my building, get out of the car, and heave her goddamn bags from my trunk.
“Wait, Lane. Let me—”
“Let you what?”
“I mean—”
“Just get inside before I change my mind.”
I hit the stairs, taking the steps three at a time, yanking open the front door and throwing her bags into the hallway before stomping to my room to pull on a fresh tee.
Back in the living room, Lois is hovering between the kitchen and the couch.
“I’m out of here,” I sigh, slipping two twenties out of a drawer. “Use the alone time to figure out a plan B, because this is your last night here,” I say sharply.
Her eyes are filling up, and my shoulders loosen.
“Listen, it’s nothing personal,” I sigh. “It’s just… I’ve lived alone since forever, and—”
“I totally get it.” She cuts me off brusquely, sniffing. “I hate this, too, you know, I can’t tell you how bad. You’ve done more than enough already, I don’t plan on overstaying my welcome. Tomorrow, I’ll be gone.”
I flash her a thumbs-up, turn on my heel, and exit, leaving her alone in my apartment for the third time. This party couldn’t have come at a better time, because I seriously need a drink.
I NEVER SET AN ALARM. Why would I, when I have my own personal wake-up call—sweetly named Carter—who repeat-dials me at the crack of dawn every day?
Threats don’t work; I’ve tried. No matter what I do, he starts blowing up my phone the second a wild idea strikes.
What we do is peculiar enough as it is, but Carter is a complete oddball.
I pick up on his fourth attempt, my voice still husky with sleep.
“Carter, have I told you lately that I hate you?” I rub my eyes. “You’re coming by tonight, right? So couldn’t this wait? I’m still sobering up!”
“Not my problem, buddy!” It’s as if I can hear him grinning down the phone. “I bumped into Lewis. He told me you’re free today. I’ll be there in fifteen!”
“Awesome,” I deadpan.
I drag myself into the kitchen, stabbing at the remote to open the blinds.
I’m standing there stark naked, and it takes me a few seconds and a weird, animal-like grunting sound to remember there’s some girl on my couch.
The way she’s slumped there with those druggie-diva shades firmly fixed to her face, I have no way of telling whether she can see my dick from where she’s lying.
I’m no prude, but I’m guessing she’d go into full meltdown mode if she caught me staring at her from the kitchen with a solid case of morning wood.
I hit the button on the remote again, and the blinds stop halfway down.
I’m a little surprised, to be honest: I expected her to be gone by now, since that’s what she’s done every other morning she’s ever slept over.
Finding her still here when I get up makes the whole thing feel even more annoying.
There’s a reason I’ve lived alone for the past three years.
I worked hard to build myself a sanctuary, and this chick is ruining it all.
Plus, there’s the fact that she’s fallen apart over some guy, as if a breakup meant the end of the world or something.
I may have been wasted last night, but I could hear her crying and tossing and turning, making it into a whole big deal.
It got so bad, at one point I thought about taking her back downstairs to stop myself from suffocating her with my pillow, and then (thank fuck!) she finally fell asleep. She can’t hit the road soon enough!