Page 22 of Dibs
“Ready to get back to work on Monday?” I turn away and adjust my hard-on through my basketball shorts.
“Yes and no. I miss my clients, I hear I have a couple of new ones, and I love my job. Being a grief counselor is fulfilling, but I needed the week to feel my own grief. I gave myself exactly seven days to mourn Sean, and, well, it seems like I only needed five or so. Just forget I cried a few minutes ago, okay, because I swear I feel much better now.”
“And have you gotten used to the sound of the refrigerator making ice, or do I need to sleep over and slay the ice demons?” Thankfully, my dick settles, and I turn and flash a grin at her.
“It’s still pretty quiet,” she admits with a shoulder shrug. “I’ve figured out the ice machine. It’s the creaks that get me. Not that I’m not used to sleeping alone, given He Who Shall Not Be Named routinely worked nights.”
“I’m game if you ever need.”
“Well, maybe I’ll take you up on that when I move back into my parents’ house. It’s been so long since I’ve lived there, my suite over there is still pink.”
I burst into laughter. “What? Pink?”
“Hey, give me a break. I was a teenager back then. At least the suite is nearly as big as this one. The king-size bed will fit nicely. I guess I should start thinking about getting a U-Haul.”
“Nah, Bear’s got a trailer, and his truck can pull its weight. Remember, we moved Marissa with it a couple of years back?” Beck squishes up her face like she’s trying to remember but can’t.
“You don’t think Bear will mind?” Beck wonders as she bends over to pack up her bedside table into a small box, including several well-worn paperbacks that I can’t let the opportunity pass to tease her about.
“Not at all, but I’d hide all that smut.” I wink at her, and she smacks my shoulder, hard.
“Never! I love my smut. You can pry it from my cold, dead hands, dude. I’ve got three more boxes of it sitting in the closet, and some still left to pack from the bookshelf in the living room. Only the discreet covers, of course, since Sean didn’t want ‘sculpted male chests’ on display inhisliving room.”
I grunt and shake my head. “Sounds like there were a lot of rules in place for you that I never realized.”
It’s Beck’s turn to shake her head. “Not your fault for not noticing. I didn’t talk about it. I thought most of his behavior was normal. Didn’t realize how controlling he was, or how deceptive. Love blinded me. I know how to pick ‘em, huh?”
I stare at her with the sudden urge to tell her everything.
How close she was to missing out on Sean completely.
How the last ten years were almostourshared history.
And how much regret I still carry over the way things went down at that frat party where all three of us first met.
But Beck’s been out of a relationship for six days, and no matter how often it wants to tumble out of my mouth, I keep it in. I suffer through it. Because Beck needs to heal, and I don’t want her to feel like she doesn’t deserve as much time as it takes.
13
ASPYN
The next weekend, after a long week at work, the mid-September weather warms up to nearly eighty degrees, and the urge to barbecue comes over me, so I send a group text, and everyone shows up around 4 p.m. to hang out. It’s not the most well-planned; I have to dig the barbecue tools out of a box and then run to the store to buy a bunch of disposable plates, cups, and silverware.
I’m taking Monday and Tuesday off to move, because those are the days Jett is free. Most of my friends have been able to get the time off too, except Emmett, a realtor with out-of-state clients in town those days.
Deacon, Cody, and Jett are in the kitchen, talking about how their favorite NFL team is doing early in the season, while my girlfriends are huddled up in the primary bedroom gossiping. I don’t mean to miss out on it, but I’m busy making a pasta salad as a side dish to accompany all the burgers and brats.
When Deacon and the boys quiet down, I overhear Emmett and Bear discussing the best jewelers in the area, so I can only hope the next year or two will be full of weddings. Emmett’s girlfriend Stefanie is finishing up college in Denver, graduatingin December, and he’s ready to pop the question the night of her graduation.
I hear the ping of the front door and frown. Everyone who’s supposed to be here is, but Deacon stands up, pats my shoulder, and disappears off through the dining room to “handle it.”
Focused on the food I’m making, I don’t even realize all the men have exited the kitchen to the back patio. At first, I think nothing of the bickering voices I hear at the front door. Then, slowly, I creep into the darkened dining room, focusing on the voices.Uh oh.Sean is saying something about “my sloppy seconds” as Deacon’s features harden, and he stabs a finger into Sean’s chest.
“You asshole. I saw her first, you piece-of-shit motherfucker!” Deacon explodes, his face flushed. “I saw her, and she looked like a fucking angel. And then all you did was complain about how she was vanilla and how you hated her hair.I saw her first!If you had been a real friend, you would have let me go over to introduce myself, and I would have tried every day to make her happy. But you've only ever loved yourself. You’ve never given one goddamn about meor her! I know you better than anyone else, Sean, and you never really loved Beck. You’re a narcissistic, pathetic son-of-a-bitch who’s only out for his own gain. And I, for one, loved her pink hair. And everything else about her. Always have. Always will.” Deac lowers his voice.
I’m stunned silent, my heart thumping so loudly in my ears I can barely hear Sean’s response. I still my breath and eavesdrop.
Sean harumphs. “Sure, you saw her first, but you were too much of a pussy to fight me for her after I called dibs.” His voice is loud and angry, and I wince. Dibs? I had been a dibs?
