Always and Forever Page 9

  “God help us,” I mumble meanly.

  “Hey, I’m just trying to get all the facts here. Look, I’ve known Brody since I was thirteen. In all that time, I never even saw him cheat on a test much less on you.”

  “Home-ec,” I respond.

  “Huh?”

  “He cheated off me in home-ec class when we were juniors.”

  “Okay, so he cheated in some stupid class. My point is I don’t think he’d ever cheat on you, not in a million years.”

  “Well, he kinda cheated on Tabitha Jones.”

  “She was a bitch.”

  “Yeah, but she didn’t deserve to be cheated on,” I state stubbornly but Ryan’s right. Tabitha was a bitch. She was our age but always acted as if she was so much better than everyone else. Oh, and she started a rumor that Ryan and I were lesbians together, so Ryan broke her nose. It wasn’t so much the lesbian comment as it was that she was talking about us at all that’d pushed Ryan over the edge.

  I hear her blow out a breath. “If I recall correctly, and I’m pretty sure I do, we were at Toby Bastion’s spring break party our sophomore year when Brody started talking to you, which was after he’d caught Tabitha having a make-out session with Brad Dexter. As in an almost-went-all-the-way-with-him make-out session in Toby’s parents’ room. Then, if I’m still remembering right, which I know I am, when Brody caught them, didn’t Tabitha tell him she liked Brad, so she and Brody broke up and not even a week later, didn’t she immediately get with Brad and the next year get pregnant and have the first of their, what, twenty-five kids and they’re still going strong to this day somewhere in Dubai or some shit since Brad’s some kind of chemical engineer? So she cheated on Brody, not vice versa. And then wasn’t it like two months later when Brody asked you out? Isn’t that how that all went down? And he’s not once even looked at another woman since he’s been with you. Am I correct?”

  “Uh…”

  “You don’t know if any of this shit you’ve heard is true,” she says with an exasperated sigh.

  I sigh too. “Wish I was as sure about it as you are.”

  “Dear God. I’ve laid it all out there for you so I’m kinda thinking you should be sure.” She pauses. “But now I need to tell you something else.”

  “There’s more? Jesus.”

  “Are you sitting down?”

  “No.”

  “Sit. You sitting?”

  I sit in the chair in front of the fireplace and mutter, “Yes,” closing my eyes and gearing up for more fabulous news. Ugh.

  “Okay, well, Fin also said that Sarah told her that one night when you were at Greer’s, Brody was at Jen’s celebrating his probie status as a fireman, you know when he passed his test? She said it was a really slow night, like a Wednesday or something, not many people there, and she, Stacia, Kensley and this Hannah woman were with Peyton who was suddenly dying to get her claws into him, kept talking about how hot he was saying that if she couldn’t have Kade, she may as well go for his little brother.”

  I suck in a breath. “What?”

  “Yeah. So Hannah tells them she has something that’ll make them feel good and make this guy want Peyton and she pulls out a baggie full of some rock shit and dangles it in front of them. She opened the bag and started handing them the shit, Sarah declined saying she had to work the next day.”

  “Wait. Peyton and her bitches took the stuff not knowing what it was?”

  “I guess so. All but Sarah.”

  “Dumbasses.”

  “Yeah. Anyway, I guess since Peyton had her sights set on Brody that night, she slipped some in his drink. Sarah didn’t exactly see her do it but she said Queen B went to his table with a big-ass rock of it in her hand. When she came back she didn’t have it and was all giggly and shit telling them to keep an eye on him.” Ryan pauses. “Now this is where it gets bad.”

  I huff out a sarcastic laugh. “That wasn’t the bad part?”

  “Not even close.”

  I drop my head to rest in my hand and close my eyes. “Tell me.”

  “So about fifteen minutes later or so, Peyton goes back to Brody’s table and asks him to dance. Sarah said he kinda blew her off but Peyton motioned for this Hannah woman to come over who grabs his hand and pulls him out on the dance floor.” I hear her take a breath. “Honest to God, Pipe, if you didn’t need to know this, I wouldn’t tell you.”

  My head’s still in my hand, eyes still closed and masochist that I am, I have to know. “Tell me.”

  “Sarah said it was like, um, like they were fucking right there on the floor.”

  Swear to God, my heart stops right then and I die a slow, painful death.

  The end.

  …

  Not really.

  I’m not lucky enough to die right then which would spare me all the pain I’m feeling.

  No, in reality I sit in a lovely chair in front of a fabulous fireplace in a beautiful lodge resort as a blizzard continues outside the stunning arched windows of my room and bring my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as I curl into a tight ball trying to shield myself from hurting so badly.

  “Piper?”

  “I’m here,” I whisper. Holy cow. I had no idea things could get worse.

  “I know this is a lot to take in, honey. But you need to know it all.”

  “There’s more?” I ask incredulously.

  “A little.”

  “Wait. Did he kiss her? This Hannah woman. Did he kiss her?” I know it’s a weird question because he was practically fucking another woman on Jen’s dance floor in front of everyone but kissing is so much more personal. Intimate.

  “I don’t know,” Ryan says quietly. I’ve had enough. This shit needs to be over and I tell Ryan that demanding that she continue. “’Kay, gonna do this like a Band-Aid and rip it off. Ready?”

  I nod then realize I need to speak. “Go.”

  “Brody left with Peyton and Hannah. As far as Sarah knew, they went to Peyton’s house. So if the baby’s his, that’s where they did the deed.”

  Just when I thought I couldn’t hate Peyton more, well, there you go. And just when I thought I was handling things? Yeah, no.

  “You okay?” Ryan checks.

  I nod again realizing she can’t see me and I need to speak. “Yes.”

  “Now, Pipe, I know it doesn’t seem realistic, but I still don’t think he slept with her.”

  What?

  What?

  “You’ve got to be kidding, Ry! You said they were practically fucking right there on the dance floor. He left with them! So how can you think he didn’t sleep with her?” I’m freaking out because I’m not sure why my best friend believes in Brody so much. “I mean, hell, if they were all on the shit, I don’t see how it didn’t become some big fucking orgy with Peyton jumping in!” It takes a second for that to sink in and then I feel like I’m going to puke. “Oh, God, I’m gonna be sick.” My stomach roils as I torture myself with thoughts of them all together and I let my feet down on the floor and put my head between my legs.

  “Pipe? You doing okay?”

  I concentrate on regulating my breathing for a moment before sitting up and answering. “I think so…”

  “Look, you’re gonna have to talk to him. I don’t see any other way around it. This is all hearsay and you’re not gonna know the truth until you sit down with him.”

  I’m still working on this breathing thing but then have to admit, “You’re right.” And she is right. I need closure. Need to face him and get the truth then move the fuck on.

  “So, you take this next week there to think about what you wanna say to him when you get back. That way you’ll know for sure. All right, honey? Josh and Camille just drove up so I’ve gotta go. Call me tomorrow or any time you need me, ‘kay?”

  “Thanks, Ry,” I return before hanging up.

  I stand and get ready for bed
trying to keep the vision of an orgy of tangled limbs from entering my mind as I go about brushing my teeth and getting my pjs on. Once in bed, dread fills me because I know I won’t sleep, my overactive imagination getting the best of me. But hallelujah and praise be, almost as soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m out like a light.

  Chapter 9

  “I’ll have a Belgian waffle, bacon and scrambled eggs, please,” I tell my waiter the next morning at breakfast.

  The lodge is practically empty, most of the patrons having fled because of the snow which is still coming down and I sit drinking my coffee watching the heavy flakes fall which is seriously gorgeous. I find myself remembering a day a few years ago when Brody and I had built the ugliest snowman ever in my front yard. I can’t help but chuckle thinking about how he’d stuck the carrot in the hideous thing, but instead of making it the nose, he’d made a penis out of it just when Stacia Mackie happened to walk by on her way to Shop and Bag Grocery where she was a cashier. She’d given us a dirty look as if she, Ms. I Wouldn’t Have a Problem in the Slightest about Doing Naughty Things with That Carrot, was offended. Brody had laughed at the look she’d given us then grabbed the carrot out of the snowman and chased me around my front yard with it making obscene gestures with it while I’d screamed my head off. Stacia had muttered loudly how immature we were which just made Brody act even crazier.

  I’m still smiling when the waiter brings my meal but as I’m pouring syrup on my waffle, my smile fades when I glance out the restaurant door toward the main lobby and swear I see Brody duck into one of the lounge restaurants.

  No way. No fucking way.

  I consider getting up to check but rethink it because it’s not possible it was him. First of all, the weather’s too bad for anyone to get here and second, Ryan or Amelia or someone would’ve let me know if he was coming up here I’d hope.

  As I eat I keep a wary eye on the lobby wondering if my eyes are just playing tricks on me or maybe cabin fever has set in making me see things. So I decide that if I’m gonna go ‘round the bend, I may as well go out decently and order a Bellini. Or three. They manage to take the edge off, and after eating, I head back to my room and grab some laundry to take to the small laundry room off the lobby. I get brave and put on my sea foam green bikini with the fringe top before leaving the room, deciding to swim a couple laps as I wait on the washer, because what goes better with swimming than alcohol? This makes me chuckle because I’m so living life on the edge and I roll my eyes as I pull my door closed.

  After putting the load in, I walk back through the lobby to the pool noticing the place is like a ghost town. I’d seen a few people checking out this morning when I came down and thought they must have four-wheel drive vehicles if they planned on leaving. It seems as if I might be the only one here now, which I can’t say really bothers me. I’m not here to mingle anyway. I enter the pool area and set my towel on a chaise lounge, stepping out of the flip-flop sandals I’m wearing. I shrug off the cute white crocheted cover-up I’ve got on throwing it onto the chair before going to the huge pool and walking down the steps in the shallow end.

  The water feels great and I sit down on one of the steps, leaning back on my elbows on the step above it and look out the big windows at the snow. It’s so beautiful here and I think I wouldn’t mind living here forever. I smile at that then sit up and pushing off the steps, dive in and start swimming toward the deep end.

  I’ve always liked swimming, actually competed in it in high school and did well, but the whole becoming an adult and having to pay bills thing has kept me from it for years. Now I revel in it, swimming several laps and loving how the water feels sluicing over my body, how my shoulders feel so strong, the muscle memory coming back as they power my arms to slice through the pool smoothly propelling me forward easily.

  I stop my strokes in the middle of the pool and turn to float on my back, kicking lazily every so often to keep myself moving. As I glide along for a couple minutes, I suddenly have an uneasy feeling as if someone’s watching me and come up quickly to tread water, spinning around toward the door then choke on the water I suck in when I see Brody standing in the doorway, arms across his chest as he leans a shoulder against the jamb smirking at me.

  “Always loved you in that suit,” he says as I stare at him in shock.

  Our stare down lasts for at least thirty seconds as every possible emotion one can have hits me at once making my entire body shake as tears sting the backs of my eyes and I feel my heart racing in my chest, but I’m not sure which emotion to attribute these reactions to. If I had to take a stab at it, I’d guess ragey pissoffedness.

  I dive under immediately, my mind racing trying to figure out what to do. I finally settle on cool, calm and collected even though I feel anything but. I swim to a ladder and climb up, getting out of the pool and as I walk to the chaise, I see he’s not leaning against the door any longer and has dropped his hands to his sides. Keeping my eyes on him as I walk I grit my teeth because, damn it, why do I have to notice how good he looks standing there, his sandy brown hair in its usual messy style, the scruff he’s sporting (damn that scruff) and his hazel eyes that are giving me an appreciative up-and-down as I walk. I try to keep myself from looking back at him in the same way, aka ogling him, but fail as I take in the cool faded blue t-shirt he wears, his biceps stretching the sleeves of it a bit, his pecs are clearly defined underneath. His faded jeans sit low on his narrow hips, a brown belt laced through the loops, and I can see his powerful thighs outlined in them. Brown lace-up boots bring everything together and it astounds me that after everything he’s done, after everything I’ve heard he’s done, I’m still madly attracted to him.

  Yep.

  The man can cheat on me.

  He can make a baby with another woman.

  I want to hate him.

  And yet I’m still in love with him.

  Clearly, I’m an idiot.

  So practicing pseudo self-control, I bend to grab my towel and use it to dry my hair a little before bringing it down to wrap around my body then with counterfeit calm slip my feet into my flip flops and grab my cover-up. Without a word, I walk toward the door where he’s standing and pass right by him and out.

  Well, that was easy, or so I think. It’s not until I’m on the stairs that he speaks.

  “You just gonna ignore me?”

  I spin around and see he’s right behind me and at that moment I hate that I’m so short because even though he’s standing a step down from me I still have to look up at him.

  “What am I supposed to do, Brody? Ask how your baby momma’s doing?” I state more casually than I’m feeling and I’m proud of myself for remaining in control.

  I watch as his brow comes down and hurt flashes over his face before he recovers. He nervously runs his hand over the back of his neck before responding, “I thought we could talk. That’s why I’m here.”

  “I don’t know how you found out where I was, I didn’t ask you to come and I really don’t want to talk right now.” I face the stairs again and continue climbing. When I approach my room I can feel that he’s still at my back. Shit. I dig my keycard out of my cover-up’s pocket and before passing it through the slot, I take a deep breath then turn and look up at him. “Go away, Brody.”

  “Pipe, can we please just talk?” He gazes down at me hopefully.

  Damn it. I guess the least I can do is hear him out, so going with Ryan’s advice and against my better judgment I answer, “Fine. I can meet you in the Oak Lounge at two for lunch.”

  He now gives me his gorgeous smile then leans down getting all in my space which makes me back up against the door almost in a panic as his lips go to my ear and he whispers, “Thank you.” He lingers there for a second and I close my eyes, breathing in his scent, all woody and herby and manly. I hear him chuckle and open my eyes to see him standing tall again, amusement dancing in his eyes. “See you at two.”

  I wa
tch as he goes to his room (the room right next to mine!), pulls out his keycard, gives me a wink and goes inside.

  I now rush inside my room to the nightstand where my phone’s been charging and pick it up to call Ryan but see I have several missed calls and texts from her already. Pulling up my voicemail I hear her scream, “Pipe! I think Brody might be on his way there! Or he might already be there because I think he left yesterday morning! Fin called me and told me she accidentally told him where you were. Call me!”

  Why didn’t I take my phone with me to breakfast? Why?

  Fate, you fucking asshole.

  I unplug my phone and sit on the floor because I’m still wet from the pool and call Ryan who answers, “Pipe! I think Brody might be there!”

  “Ya think?” I bite out. “I can’t believe Fin told him where I was. Never trust a reporter, God!”

  “So he’s actually there and you’ve seen him…”

  “Yeah, just did. And, boy, was it fun. We chatted about old times and then made plans to get a facial this afternoon. I can’t wait!” I throw my head back against the bed and stare at the ceiling. “Ry, I don’t want him here.” A tear slips down the side of my face which pisses me off and I use the back of my hand to flick it the fuck off my face.

  “Oh, honey, I actually think this is a good thing. You’re on neutral ground and you can talk. Yeah, it’s a good thing,” she points out.

  I close my eyes and sigh. “You’re right. We can get it all out here and move on.”

  “That’s right. See? It’s a good thing he’s there.”

  “We’re supposed to have lunch and talk.”

  “Good. Don’t hold anything back, okay? Make him explain everything.”

  “Oh, I will, believe me. It might hurt like hell to hear how in love he is with Hannah but at least I’ll know,” I reply with a wince. “Damn. That’ll really hurt to hear him say that…”

  “I still have faith in him.”

  “Can’t believe this is where we’re at after twelve years. I want to have faith in him too but after all this time and from everything I’ve heard I don’t think I can.”