Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Bailey
I t has to have been a dream.
I’ve spent the last six hours tossing and turning in bed. Visions of Nash standing across from me at the bar swirling in my mind like a bad dream haunting me and keeping me awake. The way his eyes met mine the moment he walked in and my entire world came crashing down. In an instant, I was teleported back to his bedroom that night, lying underneath him as he made me feel like the most beautiful and desired girl, only to make me feel unwanted the next day.
The way he watched me with an expression I couldn't read was driving me absolutely crazy. My body reacted to him in a way I hated myself for, yet it was like muscle memory to once again feel everything for him all at once. The want, the need, the pain, the hatred. Everything came rushing into me all at once and it was the most devastating, yet exhilarating, feeling. I hated it as much as I craved it.
I sat in my office after he left, replaying our conversation and trying to figure out what had occurred. For a moment, I even believed I’d imagined the whole encounter, and if the bar didn’t still smell like him hours later, I could have almost believed it.
Why was Nash Bishop in my bar? Was he back in town for a reason? Was he here to stay or just passing through? Had Nash ever thought of me as much as I thought of him?
These questions plagued my mind, but I knew it would do me no good to wonder. His mere presence continued to haunt me with burning questions I needed answers to, and it was so incredibly frustrating.
Sitting up in bed, I search for my phone under the layers of plush pillows tucked all around me. The one thing in my apartment that is completely unpacked and organized is my bed. A large California King size bed with a Siberian goose down comforter and luxurious bamboo silk sheets and pillowcases on the eight feather pillows, make my bed the most comfortable oasis. It’s a surprise I’m even able to wake up in the mornings. You would think I valued my sleep much more than I actually do because of the extents I go to ensure my comfort.
The sunlight peeks through the curtains, blaring into my eyes as I reach for my phone, only to find it vibrates as I do. Looking at the screen, I notice it’s only eight in the morning, yet I’m usually up much earlier than this. Though after my tossing and turning last night, I texted Billie and let her know I wouldn’t be going into the HoneyBees as early as I typically do. No, I need a few more hours to recover from seeing Nash Bishop again after all this time. Aside from needing to get a hold of Jase, who hasn’t responded to any of the texts I sent him last night. I don’t care that he needs a few days off. I’m only pissed he didn’t tell me anything about it.
Unlocking my screen and opening the messaging app, I see it’s Monroe who’s texted me, another one immediately coming through.
Monroe: SOS. Calling an emergency meeting.
Monroe: I NEED MY BESTIES ASAP!!
The urgency in her message frightens me. Monroe isn’t one to ask for help, so her need for us lets me know something is terribly wrong. Deciding my best friend's dilemma triumphs my sulking around, I get up out of bed and look for some clothes to throw on before heading to HoneyBees. I type up a quick response before grabbing a pair of ripped jeans and a white Pink Floyd Tee and heading to the bathroom to change.
Bailey: Heading over to HoneyBees in twenty.
Billie’s response comes in just as I hit send, and suddenly, Monroe’s freak out is completely justified.
Billie: If this has anything to do with the devil I just saw walking down Main Street, I’m going to need something stronger than a latte.
I halt my steps, my stomach dropping as I fall back onto my bed in shock. She knows. Monroe knows Nash is back in town and is surely freaking out.
Monroe: I CAN’T DRINK ANYTHING STRONGER!
My poor friend must be losing her mind. Just a few weeks ago she found out the one-night stand she had with some guy back in Florida, during our annual girls trip to Miami, turned into more than that when she took a pregnancy test only to confirm what she already knew to be true.
Now this—her brother back home after a decade of not seeing and rarely speaking to her. I can’t imagine the hurt I’d feel if Jase or Cam ever ignored me for that long. When Nash left town, it wasn’t only me he ignored. It took two years for any of his brothers to hear from him. Nothing more than an “I’m alive” text to Beau, who seemed to be the only one he bothered talking to.
Monroe called him and texted him every day for an entire year until she gave up and realized there was nothing she could do if he didn’t want to be found. After that, she talked to him maybe once every few months, but Nash never came back to visit, unlike Theo and Beau, who at least made it out here during the holidays.
She and I weren’t the best of friends growing up, particularly because of my family's feelings toward hers, but once Nash left, it was like our pain of losing him brought us together.
Deciding Monroe needs me more than the HoneyBees does, I text Kelsey, one of our employees who was supposed to have the day off, and ask her to cover for me. I hate doing this, but there’s an emergency I just can’t ignore. Kelsey quickly replies she’s available, and I let her know she should be good to leave after our morning rush. Anyway, Mondays are pretty mellow after ten am.
Bailey: Asked Kelsey to cover for me this morning. See you here in twenty.
Billie: I’ll bring the tequila. Sorry Moe, can’t keep sober in solidarity for this one.
Monroe: I hate you. Okay, I’m already here.
Jumping back out of bed, I don’t bother changing my clothes, quickly brush my teeth and wash my face before heading to the front door for Monroe. If she’s already here, this means whatever happened is much worse than what I've imagined.
As the door swings open, I find Monroe with tears brimming from her eyes and an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. She looks so young. Her face is free of any makeup and my heart aches for the little girl who’s dealt with so much pain and grief her whole life. From being neglected by her parents, hated by her father for looking so much like her mother, to being raised by her older brother, who although he’s one of the rare good guys, he’s extremely overprotective of her and sometimes barely lets her breathe.
“Moe,” I say as she bolts into my arms and sobs against my chest. Her chest heaves as her lungs gasp for air in between sobs. I’ve never seen her this way. The only time she’s ever cried with me this way was when she found out she was pregnant and even then I could see the small glimmer of hope in her eyes at being a mother.
“I hate him,” she cries out between muffled sobs. “God, I’d forgotten how much I hate him.” I know exactly what she means, though I don’t say that out loud. Monroe knows the way I felt about her brother and everything that transpired between us, but this moment is for her. I may have mourned the boy I thought I was in love with, but she grieved for the brother who wanted nothing to do with her.
“I’m so sorry, Moe,” I whisper into her hair as I walk us further into my apartment. Together, we sit on the small gray couch I’ve had since our dorm room back at NCU, since it’s the only one not covered in boxes.
“How could he come back, just like that, and act like nothing happened? As if the last ten years he hasn’t been completely and selfishly avoiding me.” Her words sting. Every truth she speaks hits so close to home because it’s the same way I felt when I looked into his eyes last night.
I hated I spent the night thinking about nothing else but him while he probably slept like a fucking baby, not a care in the world for the pain he’s caused. That’s Nash’s MO, leaving girls broken hearted across Crossroads. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s spent all this time away doing the same thing wherever he’s been.
“I don’t know what to say, Moe.” I really don’t. How can I comfort her when I’m just as confused and angry as she is?
Luckily, I don’t have to come up with anything before Billie knocks on the door. I shout for her to open the door, since I didn’t have time to lock it when Monroe came barreling in.
Billie enters and rushes to our side, a tequila bottle in one hand and a gallon of cookies and cream ice cream in the other. She sets her things down on the coffee table and wraps her arms around Monroe.
“Oh Moe, I hate seeing you like this. I swear the moment I see the bastard, this boot,” she says, kicking her foot in the air to show off her bright pink Luccheses. “Is going right up his well-deserving ass.”
However, that only makes her cry more. “I hate him, ugh, I freaking hate him. Not to mention these hormones are definitely not helping.” She sobs into her hands while Billie releases her and turns her attention and worrying to me.
“How are you holding up, B?” she asks, and Monroe nearly jumps out of her seat.
“Oh, my God! I’m a horrible friend,” Monroe cries out, placing her palms on my thighs as she turns to face me. Her bright blue eyes, red rimmed and swollen from her tears, anxiously watching me. “You saw him last night, didn't you? That’s where he came from, the bar? I heard him tell Monty about stopping by Stingers for a drink before he came to the house.”
He told his brother he’d seen me?
Monroe had to have heard wrong. There’s no reason Nash would’ve told Monty he’d stopped by to see me.
I nod. “He dropped into the bar last night, didn’t say much, not that I gave him much chance to.” I take a deep breath and reach for the bottle of tequila, twisting the top off and taking a sip. Caffeine won’t cut it this morning. “We kept our conversation short. He didn’t say anything about why he was back and I let him know he hadn’t been missed. Then I had Alexis politely kick his ass out.”
Monroe lets out a giggle while Billie claps her hands in excitement. “Yes, you go, girl. Good for you, not falling for the bastard's charm. Cause fuck me, when I saw him walking down Main Street mounting that sweet bike he has, he is gorgeous.”
I take another swig of the liquor, indulging in the burn as it flows down my throat. Because Billie is damn right. Nash Bishop is gorgeous. So beautiful, it’s even more painful to witness his return. Monroe smacks Billie’s leg, making her whine in response. “Ouch.”
Monroe rolls her eyes and reaches for the gallon of ice cream. “Not helping, Bills. And eww, reminder you’re talking about my brother.”
Billie reaches for the bottle and plucks it out of my hand. “I’m just stating the facts. Just because we hate the asshole doesn’t mean I can't acknowledge the years have been good to him.”
I can’t help the scoff I let out at the memory of just how cocky and smug he was last night as he wandered in, all eyes on him. “If the years have done anything, it’s remind me exactly why we hated Nash. Especially after he walked into my bar last night and tried to act like the last ten years hadn’t happened. Like I should welcome him home with open arms and throw a fucking party in his honor.”
“Tell us how you really feel,” Billie jokes, and I toss a pillow her way.
She dodges it, nearly spilling tequila all over my couch. Monroe opens the ice cream and grabs the spoon Billie hands her, digging right into the creamy deliciousness. “Well, after I told him to fuck off and then ran off to puke in the downstairs bathroom, I heard him tell Monty he’s not here to stay.”
Billie lets out a sharp laugh, bending forward in hysterical laughter. “You puked when you saw him?” she asks, wiping away the tears under her eyes. “Oh man, that must have been hilarious.”
Monroe pops a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “Yeah, and apparently Monty’s heard me throwing up at odd hours and now suspects I have the stomach flu.”
“Wait till he realizes the flu’s going to last nine months.”
“Not funny, Billie,” Monroe mumbles with a mouthful of ice cream.
I know she’s been incredibly anxious about telling her oldest brother, specifically because he’s incredibly overprotective of her. Monty and Nash, along with Beau and Theo, much like my brothers did with me, used to run off any guy who showed the tiniest bit of interest in us all throughout high school. For so long, they saw two na?ve little girls who were as innocent as they were precious, and I think Monty still sees the little girl he helped raise when he looks at Monroe.
I don’t blame him. Unlike my brothers, who did it more to be a huge pain in my ass, Monty cares more about Monroe than he does anyone else, and he’s sworn to protect her for as long as he can. Which means from any man that wishes to hurt or touch his little sister. Finding out she’s pregnant from a drunken one-night stand is going to give him a heart attack.
“Are you planning on telling Monty soon?” I ask, trying not to press her too hard about her impending future. She’s still very early in her pregnancy, but as thin and fit as she is, she’ll start showing in no time. “Now, with Nash here, I don’t see him being as clueless as Monty about your situation.”
Monroe’s eyes go wide in horror. I don’t think she’s thought about how Nash’s presence back in town will affect her hiding this secret.
“No, I’m not telling my oldest brother slash the only father figure I’ve ever had, that I got pregnant from a one-night stand and am planning to raise the baby on my own without telling the father I’m pregnant. I’m planning on hiding my entire pregnancy and, who knows, maybe Monty won’t notice there’s a baby hiding out in my home studio.”
“Okay, got it, touchy subject.”
Monroe smiles apologetically. “Sorry, B. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know you’re going through so many emotions too now that Nash is home and are only trying to be helpful, but I just don’t know what to do. Everything’s gone to shit.” Tears pool in her eyes once more and I feel like a horrible friend for adding more to her already overflowing plate of troubles. “Of course I have to tell Monty, but I wasn’t planning on it until I had a better hold on the situation. But now, with Nash here, I feel like things just got so much more complicated.”
Tell me about it. Just when I finally felt like I’d moved on, forgotten the asshole existed, and that our one night together hadn’t put a damper on my entire love life, or lack of, for a fucking decade, he shows up and throws everything into turmoil. I’ve dated, had a handful of relationships and one-night stands myself since, but there’s been no one who remotely made me feel the way Nash still did after all this time.
Like muscle memory, my body remembered him, my mind immediately falling victim to the way I felt about him so long ago.
“So, what now?” I ask, though I think it’s more for me than for her.
Monroe turns her pleading gaze to me. “I was thinking we could hide out here together until he leaves?”
Laughing, I throw my arm around her and pull her in close. “Not a bad idea, but I don’t think avoiding him is the way to go. Nash doesn't get to scare you out of your own home and he sure as hell doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, but he damn well should see firsthand the way his leaving and ignoring you has affected you.”
“Yeah, and I know. Monty won’t let him stay if it means losing me, even if it’s for a few days. The man worries more than a real father should.”
“You're his baby sister. Of course he worries, especially since it’s always been just the two of you and no one else.”
“Can I at least stay the night? I won’t leave home, not when I have my studio there and would have to return to work anyway, but I just can’t go back there today.”
Reaching for the remote, I turn on the television and put on one of our favorite comfort shows, Love Is Blind. “Of course you can, Moe, but neither one of us can run and hide from him and what he did. Nash Bishop doesn’t get to come back after ten years and turn us into the same heartbroken girls we were when he left.”
“We are grown women,” Billie chimes in. “Gorgeous, sexy, and hard-working women any man should be grateful to have. Men should be worshipping the ground we walk on, not making us sobbing hot messes in their wake.”
Monroe leans back on the couch and throws her arms over our shoulders, pulling us in tight for a hug. “I love you girls. Have I told you that before?”
Memories of our time in college come back to me and make me nostalgic. We spent so many nights like this, bundled up on this very couch, crying over boys and our grades. We made vision boards, planned out every aspect of our futures. On this couch is where HoneyBees, Stingers Tavern and Monroe’s interior design business, Monroe Avenue, came to fruition one drunken night when we were so sick of relying on others to make our dreams a reality.
The three of us have been through so much together, overcoming every obstacle thrown our way, especially once the town I loved turned its back on me when I was no longer the same girl they thought I should be. Crossroads hated change, and when we suddenly had ideas with the potential of bringing Crossroads into the twenty-first century, they didn’t know what to expect. It took time, but it seems like now our home has finally accepted us for who we are, and Nash won’t be allowed to turn our heaven into hell simply by returning to a place he has no business being. Not anymore. Not when it was his choice to stay gone for so long.
Billie nods. “Yes, but you know I love to hear it.”
Monroe leans back, kicking off her sandals and sitting cross-legged on the couch, making herself more comfortable. “Billie Cole, why don’t you distract us with some of your escapades with the male sex, or lack thereof?”
“Oh sugar, trust me. You don’t want to hear about the troubles this girl has had to deal with in the last week. I swear we need to host some sort of matchmaking event to help weed out the meaningless dates and filter the good ones. Online dating is horrendous, but I don’t see how I’ll ever find love anyway else. Not in Crossroads, where the only gorgeous men are related to one of you.”
“You know what, Bills,” I tell her, a little spark of curiosity lighting up inside me. “That’s not such a terrible idea.”