CHAPTER 2 DANNY
Anna tries calling me back after I hung up on her, but there’s only one person I want to speak to right now.
I dial Alexis, but to nobody’s shock, she doesn’t pick up.
She still hasn’t responded to my text, either.
She’s obviously tied up with her fiancé, and while I don’t believe for a second that any of it is real, it does introduce a whole host of new complications into the mix for the two of us.
It makes meeting in secret that much harder. It makes the stakes of hiding something that much worse.
And maybe worst of all…it compromises my morals. It compromises every goddamn thing I believe in when it comes to relationships. I can’t be with someone who’s engaged to someone else.
She said she would marry him. If I sleep with her now, I’m no better than the woman from the office I caught my dad banging. I’m no better than Anna’s friend who I caught Chris banging.
I’m suddenly cast in the role of the other man, and I don’t like it. I can’t be there, not when I saw what it did to the people who are most important to me.
How would Brooks feel knowing she’s been texting me? And even worse…did she know this was coming?
And if she did, what does that mean for us? I can’t help but wonder whether I ever meant anything to her at all.
This pit in my stomach paired with the hollowness in my chest is a solid and clear reminder of why I don’t do relationships.
It was so much easier to find a woman, have some fun for the night, and move on.
Sure, some got attached. Others wanted more than just one night.
But they still understood beneath whatever else they wanted that they wouldn’t be the ones who changed me into some one-woman guy.
Only one woman ever had that power, and it feels like she’s changing just more than my stance on monogamous relationships.
She’s changing my very make-up, who I am deep down in my soul.
And the worst part is that I never even saw it coming.
I take an Uber home. I smoke pot until the ache subsides, and I collapse into bed with my phone.
But it’s everywhere.
Of course it is. Social media memorizes every move you make to serve what they think you want to see, and clearly, Instagram believes I want to see Alexis Bodega.
Which I do.
Just not with him.
Not holding her hand out to show off the diamond he put on her finger.
Not her with her dad and a few other old men—one of which is presumably his dad as they all look on smiling.
A text comes through from her.
Carrie: I’m so sorry. I can explain.
I’m not in the mood to hear her explanation.
Carrie: I can’t do this over text. When can we talk?
Maybe never.
Carrie: Are we still on for Wednesday? Please say yes. I need to talk to you.
I don’t have the answer to that yet.
Carrie: I’m sorry, DJ. You know how I feel about you. I’m not going through with it.
Not going through with what? The wedding? Or the banging we’d planned for Wednesday?
Who knows what she means, and I’m far too tired and far too high to be able to parse it out.
Just as I’m debating whether or not to text her back—whether or not I want to hear the excuses—my phone starts to ring. It scares the shit out of me, and I drop it. It clatters down onto the table, but I see Rush calling.
“What?” I snap when I answer.
“Dude, it’s a damn good thing you left when you did.”
“Why?”
“The game was busted.” His voice is low, and he lives with a couple other guys on the team—including AJ, who he wouldn’t need to shield that information from.
“What do you mean, it was busted?”
“I mean the cops came and broke it up. They arrested that lawyer who was running it, and I thought for sure they were going to arrest us, too, but they let AJ and me go.”
“Why?” I ask, glad they didn’t get arrested but still wondering.
“Because social gambling is legal in Nevada, but it isn’t in New York, which is where this guy started this ring,” he says.
“Damn. Where are we going to play high-stakes backroom games now?” I whine, and he laughs.
“Maybe it’s our sign to stop.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, you okay, man? It was your first night out with us and you ducked early. What gives?” he asks.
I sigh.
“Whoa, that was a heavy one. Seriously, dude. What the hell is going on with you?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Fuck. You met someone, didn’t you?” he accuses.
I pause. He isn’t wrong, but I’m also not quite ready to field questions—particularly not now when I’m not sure what the hell is going on.
“I did,” I confirm. “But like I said…it’s complicated.”
“Meaning you don’t want to talk about it?” he guesses.
“That’s correct.”
“Hey, speaking of meeting new people, when are you gonna bring your sister back around?”
“Are you trying to piss me off?” I ask.
He laughs, and I sense a tinge of nervousness in his laughter. I sit up a little straighter.
Wait a minute.
Is Rush…interested in my sister? Or did I smoke some bad weed?
“No. I just…well, we had a nice time getting to know each other.”
“That was in April!” I practically yell.
“Right. And I’m still thinking about her in November.”
“Dude. Hard motherfucking no. She’s my sister, and you’ve been quite vocal about the things you enjoy doing with women.”
“Well, if you could meet someone, why can’t I?” he presses.
“You feel free to go meet whoever the fuck you want, man. But my sister is off limits. She’s going through a divorce. She’s got a lot going on.” And she has two kids, which he probably knows, but I wouldn’t trust him with my pet fish, if I had one, let alone with my nephews.
He clears his throat. “Okay, fine. Sorry for bringing it up,” he mutters, and I think that’s the moment I know.
He only met her once…but he definitely wants to meet her again.
I know the feeling, and if he feels half for my sister of what I feel for Alexis, then it’s not really my place to keep them apart—no matter how uncomfortable the thought makes me.
When the hell did I turn into this weak little simp?
Oh, right.
The moment I met Alexis Bodega.