Thursday Nights (The Charistown Series) (10 page)

With all eyes on Lyla, she nonchalantly looked toward the kitchen, then back at the women around her. “It’s easy. I’m not fucking any of those men. I’m not living with any of those men. And I don’t have to cook for them. They know that if they want to continue to eat in my house, they need to help out. Period!”

The ladies all hooted with laughter and clinked their glasses together. Before the laughter ended, the men had finished in the kitchen and joined them in the family room.

“What’s so funny?” Ryan asked, his pierced brow arched and steely gaze focused on Ashley.

Ashley stared right back and answered with a sarcastic grin. “Absolutely nothing.”

“I’m getting another drink. Anyone need one?” Janie asked. Seven hands shot up. “Kyle, I am not getting you two drinks. By the looks of you, I’m thinking water should be the only liquid you add to your system,” Janie said, her voice concerned.

“Jane, get me a vodka and tonic…and loose the tonic,” Kyle snapped.

How many drinks has he had tonight?
Janie thought to herself as she shrugged her shoulders in defeat and headed to the kitchen to fetch the drinks. A chill ran up her spine as soon as Max entered the room behind her. She breathed in deeply as the light scent of sandalwood and spice permeated her senses.

Pull it together, Janie
, she thought.

“Hey, Max. Did you decide you wanted something after all?”

Max cleared his throat, and in his deep, sexy tone replied, “No, babe. I just thought you could use a hand bringing the drinks back to the group.”

Babe
. The term of endearment Max used for her now felt like pins being pushed into her skin.

“Thank you,” she muttered, trying to keep the unsteadiness from her voice.

While Max mixed and poured the requested cocktails, Janie grabbed a few beers from the fridge, and they headed back to the family room. This time, when they took their seats, Max sat next to her on the floor.

During the next few hours, the group spent their “family time” telling stories from their pasts, regaling Lyla and Janie with bar horror stories, which included everything from bar fights, to cat fights, to drunk and sick patrons. Some of the stories had been shared before; however, they were the kind of tales that would be funny no matter how many times they were told. Janie was grateful for the constant chatter, either way. Without it she would be too focused on the sexy man sitting to her right. It was bad enough that she could hear his shallow breaths and feel the heat from his body seeping into hers. If she thought about what might actually be going on in his head she might go crazy.

“Do you want to tell them or should I?” Lyla asked suddenly, her face open and happy.

“I’m sorry, what?” Janie looked at Lyla, confused.

“They want our story, Jane. They swear we’ve never told them.” Lyla winked, and Janie forced a giggle. It was true—Janie and Lyla didn’t do a whole lot of fuzzy-get-to-know-us bullshit. They kept their history where it belonged…in the past.

Max watched as Lyla gave a shoulder shrug. It was clearly the nonverbal cue that gave Janie the go-ahead to finally answer some of the endless questions they had managed to evade for close to six months. In a tandem telling, Janie and Lyla gave the long and colorful story of how they met as roommates at the University of Pittsburgh. How they realized that they were both from different suburbs of Philadelphia and how they knew from the first week that they were going to be best friends. It had something to do with Jagermeister shots and four-dollar pizza pies from a place called the “O.”

Janie recalled a lot of long nights studying while Lyla laughed, saying those memories were lost to her due to the long nights of
partying
. Max felt something strange in the pit of his stomach as he watched Janie tell her story. She was so relaxed and so beautiful, not at all how she was with him earlier. He wanted that Janie back.
No, man,
he quickly chastised himself.
Don’t go there. Friends…just friends.

While they regaled their friends with the silliness of their younger selves, Janie thought about the part of their story that they didn’t share. The part that even she and Lyla no longer discussed What they left out were the gory details of what really brought them together and helped to form their unbreakable bond. A bond that was forged during the countless nights when Janie would awaken to Lyla’s screams and pleads to be let go, her begging of “no…please no.”

After a time, Lyla began to let Janie hold her and comfort her until the fear receded. In return, Lyla gave her the thing Janie had spent eighteen years searching for, the thing she couldn’t even find in her own family: unconditional love and support. Janie could depend on Lyla’s presence, either physically or via phone, whenever she needed her, and Lyla had never let her down. For ten years Lyla had been her sister, and that was something that didn’t need to be discussed at Sunday dinner.

Janie could feel Max’s eyes on her, burning into her skin, but she resisted looking over at him. She knew that if she allowed herself to look directly into the grassy-green fields that were his eyes, she would get lost in them. And she was trying to be strong. She had said it was okay, that
she
was okay, so she continued to look at everyone else in the group, acting
okay
. Everyone but Max.

Max could feel his gut twisting, and his hands were physically twitching with the need to reach out and stroke her long, silky hair. He was sitting close enough that, with every inhale, he took in her scent, and it was amping up his desire and frustration. His cock was pressing into the zipper on his jeans, making it so he could barely think coherently. He couldn’t handle it another second. She wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence.

Well, isn’t that what you wanted
? His inner voice chided him.
You wanted her to know what it felt like to have her body cherished. You wanted to give her yours. And then you wanted to walk away without so much as a call—and you did. Make this right, DeLucca!
His mind screamed, and Max clenched his fisted and breathed in quietly through his nose. He willed himself to keep his mouth shut.

“So, Janie,” he huffed. “When do your students start school again?” He noticed a few strange looks thrown in his direction from Lyla and Danny, but no one else reacted.

Janie sat quietly for what felt like minutes but was probably only a second before she answered. She had been teaching middle-school English for six years, but since she and Lyla moved around quite a bit after college, it was only her third year in the Charistown district. She loved her job, adored her co-workers, got a kick out of her students, and having her summers off to goof around with Lyla was pretty awesome, too. But the summer had to end sometime.

She sighed. “My kids come back tomorrow. I should be ready for cocktails by Thursday night, so get ready, Danny.”

He chuckled and nodded. “I’m always ready, Jane! What about you, Ly? How is the column going?” Danny asked a little too casually. Lyla caught Julie shooting her husband a tense look. While she couldn’t decipher it exactly, it had a “Watch your step, buddy” sign posted to it. Lyla couldn’t help but smile.

Spending time with the people from Danny’s on Main was like a little slice of heaven for Lyla’s heart, yet a small spark of hell on her soul. She was growing to love them all: Danny, Julie, Ryan, Ashley, Kyle, and Max –– each and every one of them. While she knew they were good people, chances were each of them had some sort of skeleton in their closet. But she traveled with a whole goddamned cemetery in hers. So, as much as her heart longed to let these kind and loving people in, she knew she had to keep them at a distance. She didn’t trust; she couldn’t take the chance.

Lyla’s face softened into a genuine smile. “It’s going really well, Danny. Thanks for asking.”

Janie loved how Lyla’s eyes sparkled when she talked about her column. She knew that sparkle, too—she was the only one who knew that Lyla’s creativity didn’t start and end with the advice columns she wrote for the online papers. The real fire burned when Lyla was writing her novels. But due to a tragic past, she chose to write under a pen name, keeping her true passion a secret from everyone but Janie.

“Writing makes me really happy,” Lyla said, confidence pouring off her in waves.

“It’s nice to see someone who loves their job as much as you do, honey.” Julie patted Lyla’s shoulder.

“What’s not to love,” a formerly-dazed-and-currently-drunk Kyle sneered. “She writes some advice in a column twice a month, and she doesn’t have to worry about money. Not everybody is lucky enough to win the lottery.”

Lyla stared at Kyle, muted by the shock of his words. Kyle had no such problem, though, as he continued his drunken rant. “We know everyone loves you. We know you love yourself. It’s the world according to Lyla Dalton. You always need to put your two cents into everyone else’s business. And speaking of cents…yes, Lyla, we know you have money. Jesus, can you rub it in our faces any more than you already do?” Kyle spat his words and then tried to get up to leave.

Lyla caught the pain that slid across her face before anyone but Janie could see it. She placed her “As if I care” mask on firmly. The alcohol that Kyle had consumed in the past few hours, added to whatever was still pumping through his system from the night before, caused him to stumble as he stood.

“Goddamn it, Kyle,” Danny shouted. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Lyla leaped into the conversation, voice raised and fists clenched. “It’s fine, Danny. Kyle,” she said, turning to face him head-on. “I’m glad we are finally close enough to share how we really feel about one another. I have thoughts about you too. Frankly, I was thinking that you were sexy, so hot in fact that I’ve spent weeks thinking of all of the ways I wanted to fuck you. But now you’ve cured me of that
insane
notion. So, thank you.” Lyla’s face was blazing red, making her sky-blue eyes burn even brighter.

“As for me sticking my rich ass in everyone’s business, you’re gonna wish I did. You’re gonna wish I stopped you from saying all of the shit that just spewed out of your drunk, fucked-up mouth.” Kyle stared blankly at Lyla as her verbal lashing continued. “I’m not going to hate you for saying those things,” she said softer, beginning to rein in her temper and with it her voice. “Because tomorrow, when you wake up, you are going to hate yourself enough for the both of us.” She lowered her face to Kyle’s and dropped her voice to a quiet pitch. “But I will say this, and trust me, if you forget what I’m about to tell you, there are six people here to remind you. You can try, but you will
never
be able to take back those words.” Lyla rose to her five-foot-one height and turned to face the rest of the group, standing silent and in awe. “I’m leaving. Please lock up on your way out.”

With her back facing the group and one foot out the door, she stopped but didn’t turn around. “Before you ask, Janie, no, you can’t come. I need some space. I love you.”

Lyla closed the door behind her and walked into the night alone.

Lyla’s house, which had been full of laughter and love only thirty minutes before, was now heavy with sorrow and anger. Janie could hear the men in the family room yelling at Kyle while she stood in the kitchen trying to keep herself from falling apart. Knowing Lyla, she was out there replaying Kyle’s words over and over, each replay inflicting a little more permanent damage. Lyla would mostly likely add another layer to the already-impenetrable walls that surrounded her heart.

Lost in her own version of hell, Janie didn’t even notice when Ashley and Julie entered the kitchen. She silently tried to wave them off when she saw them, knowing her voice wouldn’t be strong enough to send the message, but Julie insisted that the guys needed their time to regroup and Janie needed her girls. The moment Janie felt arms wrap around her body, her legs turned to jelly, and she slid to the floor sobbing.

“Talk to us, sweetheart,” Julie whispered as she sat down beside Janie, reaching an arm around her shoulder. “Let us in.”

Janie continued to cry as Julie held her tight and Ashley openly listed ways to castrate Kyle.

“I’m sure we could get Danny to help. He loves Lyla. If he holds Kyle down, I could use the nut crackers, the ones we use at the bar.” Ashley let out a maniacal laugh. “They crack more than walnuts, you know!”

That got Janie to stop crying for a moment, and the three women shared a quick giggle. Janie wiped her eyes and looked at her friends. “She isn’t any of those things he said about her…”

“Of course she isn’t!” Ashley and Julie replied in unison.

Janie nodded and then continued. “But she will believe every single word that came out of his mouth.” The tears began to well in Janie’s eyes again, but this time her eyes weren’t the only ones filling up. She saw it hit Julie and Ashley as they began to understand the damage that Kyle truly caused. They might not know the history, but they did understand that there would be repercussions. Janie felt Julie’s shiver as she hugged her tighter.