Chapter 15
After the rest of an awkward family dinner, my siblings insisted we go for drinks at the bar.
My parents offer to watch all the grandkids, so I’m suckered into throwing back cocktails with young moms and dads who are far too eager to get a bit tipsy away from their children.
“Girls in this car, boys in that one!” Alana instructs as we all stomp out into the driveway.
“Can I go in the girls’ car? These guys are way too quiet,” I joke, and Liam flicks me the bird.
“No. Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Gabby points at August, who is walking to her own car.
She looks caught red-handed. “Oh, I was just going to head back to the house. I’m tired, and you guys have your family night out.”
Cass pouts. “We want you to come! It won’t be fun without you.”
“Yes, you have to come!” Alana seconds.
“I won’t take no for an answer.” Warren quirks his eyebrows.
Her eyes flit to me, and even though I shouldn’t, I can’t help myself. “You should come.”
A smile lifts the corner of her mouth, and she nods. “Yeah, okay. Just for one drink.”
The ride over to The Laura Inn, the local bar we’ve always frequented since the time each of us turned twenty-one, is short and consists of my brothers chatting about the latest sports game. I try to follow along but end up staring out the back seat window, lost in thoughts from family dinner.
By the time we find a parking spot, the girls are already inside and waiting, holding glasses of white wine. August looks completely comfortable, laughing and chatting with the women. For a moment, Alana’s warning leaves my head like it’s flying out an open window.
How easy would it be for me to go over there, to spend the night hovering by her, cradling my hand on the small of her back, whispering jokes in her ear? The urge to do so is palpable.
But then it’s back again, that notion that I can’t be what she needs. So, instead, I keep my distance, ordering a beer with my brothers and then joining them in our usual spot. Leather couches flank the massive fireplace roaring with a fire, even at this time of year. The industrial chandelier lights are turned down low, and the inn bar is crowded for a Sunday night.
A second round is ordered at some point as we all talk and laugh, the couples getting more intoxicated and flirty by the second. August is halfway through her second glass, and I’m happy she’s decided to let her hair down a bit.
In the corner of the bar, a small band comprised of a guitarist, a singer, and a guy on the keyboard begins to play. The song is classic rock turned acoustic, and it’s upbeat enough that a few people start dancing. Our waitress comes by and drops off a third round, of which I see August pluck a cocktail off the table.
She sits on the arm of the couch, smiling as she watches some of the couples in my family begin to dance together. Feeling the pull, I walk over to stand next to her.
“Parents night out is a bit frightening, huh?”
She looks at me from the corner of her eyes, not turning her head from the makeshift dance floor. “I think it’s sweet.”
Something in her voice harbors a bit of … resentment? Is she pissed at me for what I said at dinner?
“Hey, listen, about what happened at my parent’s house?—”
I’m about to apologize when someone interrupts me.
“August, right? We had history together senior year.”
When I turn slightly to see who just came up to talk to her, I’m faced with a blond guy with a dimpled chin directing his question at August’s chest. Instantly, jealousy flares in my guts.
“Um, yeah, I sort of remember. Is it Chet?” she asks, sipping her cranberry and vodka through the tiny red straw.
Fuck, her lips look so good puckered like that, and he definitely notices, too.
“Yeah. I didn’t realize you were back in town.” He smiles, and I want to punch him.
The reaction is so irrational, yet I step closer to August’s back. Not that either of them notice, much to my chagrin.
“I didn’t realize you even knew who I was.” I can tell she’s a little tipsy because I don’t think August would admit something like that without the influence of alcohol.
“Of course I do. How could I forget such a pretty face?” He drops the line, and I want to gag.
Instead of doing that, August giggles. And my blood surges with jealousy and rage. Is she actually buying what this dumbass is selling?
“You want to dance?” he asks, nodding his head toward the floor.
Her blush intensifies. “Uh, I’m not sure. I’m not that great on my feet.”
“Let me take the lead and you’ll do just fine.” He holds out a hand, and there is an urge to rip it from his body.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
That urge appears again when she takes his meaty paw, and I want to tell her not to go with him, but my mouth won’t open. They walk out onto the dance floor together, and she smiles at something he says as they fall into a rhythm.
I have to peel my eyes away from August as she’s led in a tight circle by that idiot.
“You’re blowing it, Ev,” Cass whispers as she passes.
What the hell? “Huh?”
She wiggles her eyebrows at me and then, not-so-discreetly as she might think, points to August on the dance floor.
Great, so apparently, all the women in my family have been gossiping about this. I wonder if August said something about it. The thought of that has hope I shouldn’t feel filling my chest.
As the song ends, I hear them return to our general vicinity, and the guy stays close to her, talking for some time. I try to block them out because it’s none of my business who August sees or what she does with her time. We have the rules set up for our shared residence right now, and that’s all that matters. Or at least I tell myself that.
An hour later, everyone is good and fucking hammered. My siblings call cabs to their homes, and I look over to where August is now sitting alone. I wonder where that idiot she danced with went.
“Ev, you getting a cab? Make sure Auggy goes with you.” Warren sways as he points at me.
I almost laugh because a drunk Warren is so rare that it’s comical. “You got it.”
Of course, I’ll make sure she gets home safe. And not with that moron beefcake.
“August, you ready to go?” I gently touch her shoulder, and she dazedly looks up at me.
“Go where?” She grins, and if I’m not mistaken, there is a fleck of mischief in her eyes.
“I’m going to drive us home. I’m sober.” I produce my keys as if that will prove my point.
“Oh, is everyone going already? I’m having fun.” Fuck, is she adorable.
“I know, but it’s pretty late. I’ll make sure you get to bed safely.”
“Oh, will you?” She winks at me, and chivalry be damned; I can’t help but picture her sauntering over to my mattress.
She’s dangerous in this state. Usually, I feel like August is holding back every single thing she feels. She keeps her emotions and opinions locked up in a vault where she can’t offend anyone or be accused of being too bold or whatever.
But I want to know her, truly and deeply. I want to know what’s on her mind, and I want her to feel free to express every little thing because what she thinks and wants is important. Tonight, though? It seems like the alcohol has loosened her tongue when it comes to me, and that’s fucking dangerous.
Because I won’t touch her, not when she isn’t of the right mind. But Christ, it’s going to be damn hard to keep myself in check if she’s going to wink at me … or more.
Once we make it to the parking lot, she wobbles a bit, and I slide my arm around her waist to prop her up while walking. August fits way too perfectly in this spot, and I have to turn my nerves into steel when she seems to nuzzle in.
The drive home is quiet, with nothing but the song on the radio buzzing between us. I want to ask her so many things, but this isn’t the right time, and I’m still picking apart the way I felt when she was in that other man’s arms.
My tongue seems to hold itself until we park, and I assume the same position, supporting her weight as we walk to the door.
“Did you, uh, get that guy’s number or anything?” I’m a prick for prying when she’s in this state, but I need to know.
She shakes her head. “Nah. I never even knew him in high school, nor am I interested now.” Her head flops onto my shoulder as I walk us up the driveway.
My arm feels way too good slung around her waist, and the boner I’m sporting is doing nothing to quell my inappropriate thoughts. August is drunk, and I’d never try anything, but God, does she feel fucking heavenly, and we’re both fully clothed.
“Good to hear. The guy seems like an idiot.” I snort.
“I only had a crush on one guy in high school.” She says.
Jealousy, hot and simmering, once again hits my gut. “Oh yeah, you ever do anything about it?”
Because I need to remind myself that she’s not for me.
August giggles. “No. He barely knew I existed.”
“What a moron. His loss.” I fish my keys out of my pocket as we step toward the front door.
August turns into me like she needs me to hold her up, and I instinctively wrap my arms tighter.
“That’s too funny. You saying that. Because, well …” She starts laughing like I’m a world-class comedian. “The thing is, we ended up as roommates. And you still have no idea how big of a crush I had on you.”
I nearly drop my keys when she says it. My heart drops to my toes. My eyes seem to grow impossibly wide as I turn to stare at her, her little giggle making her get the hiccups as she continues to laugh.
A sick feeling washes over me, not due to her confession, but because August would never be saying this if she wasn’t drunk right now. She’d probably be so embarrassed if she knew what she was telling me. And yet here I am, still holding on to her, wanting to ask a million questions.
Feeling fucking satisfied and cocky that I was the one she had a crush on, not that idiot at the bar.
“August …” I don’t even know where to start, but her eyes hold mine like she’s waiting for something.
“Yes?” She blinks, and her tongue darts out to lick her lips.
Fuck me, I’m going straight to hell. Our breaths mix, mingling like electricity that’s about to zap us both. She’s right there, so eager, so willing. I’m the same way, fueled by the information she just gave me.
It’s only with a heavy heart and my balls yelling silently at me that I push some distance between us. “We should go to bed; it’s late.”
She blinks, seeming to come out of the moment in disappointment, but shrugs. I doubt she knows what’s happening, which is why it can’t.
I help her up the stairs after we toe our shoes off, our socks making soft padding noises as we crest the top. August doesn’t bother to say anything as she heads for her room, and I think she’s just exhausted now that we’re out of the loud, energetic bar.
“August?”
She turns, her eyes droopy with impending sleep. “Hm?”
“I noticed you.”
With that, I turn and close my door quietly. She probably won’t even remember what she said, much less what I did. But I couldn’t let her go to bed, thinking I never knew she existed.
She looks like that, has wisdom beyond her years, and my family is obsessed with her? Yeah, it would be impossible to not know that August Percy exists.
Maybe, all this time, I wasn’t looking hard enough.