Chapter Five
Tara
Halfway into the bachelorette party, I regret attending.
The first part of the night is a dinner to which my mom and her sister, my aunt Jeanne, along with Amy’s mother, Barbara, and her future mother-in-law, Liza, are invited.
Amy and her friends are young enough that, though I like them, I have few interests in common with them.
I end up sandwiched between the older adults. We eat dinner and are on to dessert. Afterwards, the bridesmaids, including me, are going to head to the bar on the other side of the restaurant for the more fun part of the evening. At least, according to Amy and her friends.
Dessert is served, and I’m on my second glass of wine.
“Are you dating anyone, Tara?” It doesn’t matter who asks. The bomb has been dropped.
Before I can reply, my mother answers. “Her first love is back in town. Isn’t rekindling an old flame romantic?”
“Mom, that’s not true.” I gesture to the nearest server and smile when she walks over. “Can I please get a Long Island Iced Tea?” I ask, ready for something stronger to drink.
“Of course,” the young redhead says.
I glance around my end of the table. My mother is talking about Axel and how famous he is now and his history with both bands. Mom has done her research.
“Make it strong, please,” I say quietly.
The server laughs and nods before heading off to the bar.
“Mom, Axel is an old boyfriend. Nothing more,” I say, smiling at the other women so I don’t sound like I’m scolding my mom.
“Oh, Tara. Amy’s five years younger than you, and she’s getting married.” Aunt Jeanne wags her finger at me. “You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
Before I can reply, one of Amy’s bridesmaids, whose name I can’t remember, stands up and claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Game time!”
I breathe a sigh of relief at the interruption that will save me from being harassed by my mom and aunt.
“Whenever someone says the word baby, we all have to do a shot!” Amy says, lifting her glass and grinning at me. Apparently, she overheard the conversation and knows a good way to get drunk when she hears one.
“It’s not a baby shower,” I remind my sister, but Amy won’t meet my gaze.
A man places shots of what I assume is vodka in front of each person at the table, and the other girls clap their hands and squeal in excitement.
Let the fun begin, I think, laughing. At least I didn’t drive my car; I came with my mother. Once Mom leaves, I’ll call an Uber to get home later.
“Tara, your mom isn’t getting younger, either, and I know she wants grandbabies,” Aunt Jeanne says loudly.
So much for changing the subject. I look at my aunt, who not-so-innocently grins. The woman clearly knows what she’s doing.
“She said babies! Shot!” someone calls out.
Only too happy to oblige, I pick up the little glass, brace myself because it has been years since I’ve done one, and pour the liquor into my mouth and gulp it down.
The alcohol burns as it slides past my throat and into my chest. No sooner have I swallowed than the empty glass is replaced with a full one.
My aunt, mom, and the other women are on a roll, with me in their sights.
Ribbing me about my single status and failure to provide my mother with a grandbaby amuses the older women, who should have gone home by now.
They aren’t doing shots, I note, but I play the game, getting drunk in an effort to tune out the fun around me.
By the time my mother is ready to go, offering me a ride before she leaves, I am feeling no pain. I’m even enjoying the bridesmaids, who took over the baby challenge, using it against each other. I promise my mother I’ll call a car and assure her I’ll get home fine.
A while later, the room begins to spin, and I stop drinking. I already fended off one or two men who wanted to buy me more alcohol, and I pull out my phone since I haven’t checked it all evening. My texts and emails are empty, and I start thinking about Axel.
I did my best to put him out of my mind because we are so mismatched. But sitting at a table alone, Amy and her friends dancing in the small designated area, I can’t help but pull up his number.
The desire to text him is strong, and a war begins to wage inside my mind.
Angel Tara: Don’t do it, you’re drunk.
Devil Tara: He asked you out. He’d love to hear from you.
Angel Tara: Getting further involved with him can only lead to hurt and trouble.
Devil Tara: Don’t be a baby.
I don’t miss the irony of that particular word. It got me drunk and to this point in the night, phone in hand. And if we hadn’t broken up all those years ago, maybe I’d be married and pregnant with his baby, and I wouldn’t have been the subject of my aunt and mother’s pushing and prodding.
Devil Tara speaks up again: Do it. Do it. Do it.
Angel Tara is suspiciously silent.
I glance at the screen, waiting for the blurriness to subside. How many shots did I have, anyway?
I pull up Axel’s name and type.
Tara: Where are you?
My cell buzzes immediately.
Axel: At Xander’s.
Tara: With the babies?
I blink, some rational part of my brain telling me I’ll regret this tomorrow, but drunk as I am, I can’t bring myself to care.
Axel: What babies and where are you???
Tara: The kids we would’ve had if we’d stayed together.
I think I misspelled a few words but can’t be sure. I hit send anyway.
Axel: WHERE ARE YOU? Did your dick of a date get you drunk?
Tara: Yep, I’m drunk. The phone’s spinning. What date?
Axel: TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE?
Tara: Amy’s bachelorette party.
Axel: WHERE???
I lean over in my seat and nearly topple onto the floor. Amy, who just walked over, flings herself into a chair.
“Why’s the ceiling going in circles?”
“Ames, where are we?” I ask, glancing up in the direction my sister points, narrowing my gaze to see if I can see circles, too.
“We’re at Shenannananigans,” Amy says.
I do my best to spell that for Axel and send him the name of the bar.
“Amy!” My stepsister’s fiancé, Kenneth, strides up to her. “Honey, are you okay?”
I glance over to see my sister still staring at the ceiling. “She’s drunk,” I tell him.
“So is you,” Amy says.
“Yep.”
Kenneth shakes his head and gestures for a server to come over. “Can I get two glasses of water for the women?” he asks.
“Coming right up,” the familiar redhead says.
“No water. My bladder’s full.” Amy clutches her stomach.
“Let’s go to the ladies’ room,” I say, grabbing Amy’s hand and pulling her up.
“Come right back here,” Kenneth orders. “No more alcohol.”
Amy bobs her head in response, then closes her eyes. “Bad idea.”
A few minutes later, I’ve finished in the bathroom with my sister. With my bladder empty, I’ll be able to drink the water Kenneth ordered. I know I’ll appreciate that tomorrow. Right now? I’m still feeling beyond buzzed. In fact, I’m drunk enough to know I’ll be hurting tomorrow.
With Amy’s hand in mine, I attempt to walk a straight line back to Kenneth and not bump into anyone in the process. At least my future brother-in-law will take me home, because I know enough to realize I don’t want to take an Uber alone in my drunken state.
I plop back into the chair, Amy settles on Kenneth’s lap, and he slides a glass of water toward her.
“Drink this,” he says to me before turning to his fiancée and handing her the water, helping her drink it without spilling.
I down the water and wipe my wet mouth with the sleeve of my shirt. When I look up, it’s into familiar jade-green eyes staring at me, a combination of concern and amusement visible in the depths. Along with a sexy-as-hell smile on his oh-so-kissable lips.
“Axel!” I jump up from my seat. Happy to see him, I throw my arms around his neck. “Why are you here?”
He pries me off him but keeps my hands clasped in his. “I realize drunk texting an ex is a thing, but you scared me. I thought you were on a date and something was wrong.” He frowns at me, releasing his grip.
I shake my head. “No date! I’m at a bachelorette party, and everyone was talking about babies. Babies made me drink. They also made me think of you.” Suddenly exhausted, I fall against him.
Strong arms wrap around me, and I know I no longer have to worry about anything. I close my eyes and sigh because I feel safe.
* * *
Axel
I sit in the family room at Xander’s house, enjoying a Kingston get-together.
I have no family other than my sister, and I’m grateful Dash’s family makes me part of theirs.
Despite the good mood of the people around me, I can’t shake my bad mood since Tara turned me down for a date, and here it is, Saturday night, and I’m wondering if she’s with someone she has feelings for.
Melly, Dash’s mother, sits down beside me. I don’t remember much about my own mother, but Melly Kingston, in the short time I’ve known her, tries to fill that hole.
“You look sad and alone,” she says.
I shake my head. “I’m not alone. I have Bella for company.” I run my hand over the dog’s soft fur.
She eyes me the way only a mother could, indicating she isn’t buying what I’m selling. “I’m here to listen,” she offers.
I look down and remain silent, thinking about whether I want to get into my problem.
“It’s about a woman, isn’t it?” Melly asks.
I lift my head and meet her gaze. “Yeah. My high school girlfriend. We broke up after graduation because we were going in different directions. Now she’s here. In East Hampton. She’s Bella’s vet.” I grin at the dog who I used as a buffer.
“So you’ve reconnected?”
I nod. “We went on one date. I asked her out again for tonight, but she said she was busy.”
“I see. So you’re worried she’s out having fun with someone else,” Melly says.
“Yeah.” Among other things. “I don’t want her to fall into a relationship with someone else before I get the chance to win her back.” I flex my fingers, a habit I developed to keep my hands limber.
“Does she know you want to get back together?” Melly asks. “Or does she think you’re asking her on casual dates?”
“Umm…”
“Obviously you need to state your intentions. The woman’s not a mind reader,” Melly says, her wry smile making me laugh.
“I—” Before I can reply, my phone buzzes with a text message. I pull it out of my pocket and glance at the screen.
Tara: Where are you?
“Speak of the devil,” I say with a grin.
Melly tips her head. “Yes? What does your lady want while she’s out on her date?”
I bite the inside of my cheek as I continue to text with Tara, lost at half of what is coming from her.
“She’s drunk texting me,” I say at last. The next few messages have me raising my eyebrows, confused, laughing, and then concerned.
“Go get her,” Melly says, watching me with amusement on her face.
“She didn’t ask me to do that.” But she is talking about my babies. Something I can’t explain to Dash’s mother.
“Men.” Melly rolls her eyes. “If a woman tells you where she is, she wants you to come get her.” She places her hands on her thighs, her manicured nails a pop of pink.
“And on that note, I’m going to leave you alone to go pick her up and tell her how you really feel,” she says, rising to her feet and heading over to her daughter, Chloe.
“Thanks,” I call after her.
The next thing I know, I’m striding into the restaurant and bar in town. A combination of relief that there is no date wars with amusement at the drunk messages I received.
I take one look at the woman in the chair wiping her mouth with her sleeve and know just how drunk the usually put-together, well-mannered Tara is.
For all the times I’ve seen her drink at high school parties, I never saw her like this. Glassy-eyed, cheeks flushed, splayed back against the chair in a heap. She is still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
She glances up and meets my gaze, surprise opening her eyes wide. “Axel!” She hops up from her seat and wraps her arms around my neck, which I have to admit feels damned good. “Why are you here?” she asks.
I need to gauge how inebriated she is and how to deal with her, so I pull her off me but keep her hands clasped in mine. “I realize drunk texting an ex is a thing, but you scared me. I thought you were on a date and something was wrong.”
I didn’t realize how worried I was until I walked in and saw her safe and sound.
She shakes her head, her brown hair falling around her face. “No date! I’m at a party and everyone was talking about babies. Babies made me drink. They also made me think of you,” she babbles.
I release my hold on her hand as she falls into me. I catch her before she can slide to the ground and hold her tight against me. She feels good in my arms, but given the reason, I’m not going to be admitting my intentions for us tonight.
“Tara,” a woman says in a singsong voice. “Who’s the hunk?”
Since she’s sitting on another man’s lap, I know it’s not a pickup line. She’s obviously drunk, too.
I shift Tara against me. “I’m Axel. An old friend of Tara’s. And you are?”
The woman stares at me through her heavy-lidded gaze. “The drummer and Tara’s ex!” Her voice rises in excitement.
“This is Amy, Tara’s stepsister,” the man says, his amusement clear. “I’m Kenneth, Amy’s fiancé.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say. Tara’s head is on my shoulder, her body weight leaning against me. “Anything I need to know?”
“Other than a successful bachelorette party without strippers? Not a thing.” Kenneth pauses. “I was going to take them both home, but Tara seems to be settled where she is,” he says, chuckling.
I grin. “I’ve got her.” Which is easier said than done, but eventually, I manage to encourage Tara to lean on me as she walks to the car.
The top is closed, and I lean down to strap her in, debating about where to take her and deciding to go to my place.
I know where everything she’ll need is located, and I live closer.
Only when I carry her into the house do I realize I only furnished my bedroom and minimally at that, which means she’ll be sleeping in my bed tonight.