The next time I look Veronica’s way, she holds my gaze for a beat longer than strictly necessary, and the heat in her eyes makes something go tight in my gut. Her girls are chatting and so are my guys, and the rest of the bar falls away as our eyes lock.
It’s so damn hot in here that it’s impossible not to think of our night together. Of sweat-slicked skin on leather seats. Of how fucking perfectly we fit.
“You two ever talk about it?” Crosley asks.
I’m so lost in my memories that I freeze for a panicked beat, thinking he’s asking about what happened last Fourth of July. Of course we didn’t talk about it. She turned into a raving bitch the next day, as if I were the world’s biggest ass when all I’d done was fuck her the way she begged me to fuck her and make her come so hard I had nail marks in my back for a week.
“What happened this morning?” he asks.
I clear my throat, still unable to pull my gaze off Veronica. “I didn’t get a chance.”
“Didn’t get a chance, or your pride was too big to swallow?” he asks. He grumbles under his breath, “You’re gonna go postal if Wes pursues her, aren’t you?”
My head snaps to the side so I can see Crosley’s face. “What?”
He shakes his head. “Figure your shit out. I don’t need my business partners fighting over a woman, even one as good as V.”
Wes might not have a clue, but to Cros, I’m transparent. “You don’t have anything to worry about,” I promise, but it feels like a lie.
Colton
4th of July, 11 months ago
I’ve spent more July Fourths at the Jackson family cabin than I have at any single other place, but I don’t know why I agreed to come this year. I’m not part of this big, happy family, and I never will be. Guys like me don’t get families like this one. Not for real. I’ll always be on the outside looking in, always be a spectator on the sidelines of their incredible lives.
Most of the time, I’m okay with that. After all, these people are my sister Ava’s family now. Her daughter, Lauren, will grow up a Jackson. And because of that, when she’s a teenager looking for trouble, it’ll never be because anything sounds better than going home. It’ll never be because she needs them to prove they’d still love her at her worst. So, yeah, maybe it’s okay to be a spectator when it means seeing her grow up. When it means seeing my sister so damn happy.
But being here also means seeing another happy couple. Ellie and Levi. I wish I could say it’s easy to tear my eyes off them as they sway together by the beachside fire. The sight of the love of my life dancing with my lifelong best friend pulverizes something in my chest that used to pass for a heart, but who needs that organ anyway?
Levi is better equipped to give the woman I loved the life she deserves, and I’m happy for them. But I’m also a fucking masochist for agreeing to come this weekend, and there’s no denying that.
Ellie tilts her face up to Levi, and he touches his forehead to hers. They’re losing themselves in each other’s eyes, and I can’t fucking look away.
I could leave. Unlike almost everyone else, I haven’t had a drop to drink, so I’d be perfectly safe driving home. And yet I sit here. Torturing myself because I don’t want Levi to know how much this shit fucks with me. At least they’re all boozy enough to forget to make polite conversation with the outsider.
“Seems like you could use some company,” Veronica says. She sinks into the chair across from mine. She smiles softly, looks me over, then leans forward and whispers, “Don’t tell me if it’s not true. I just got my son to sleep and I desperately need a minute with an adult who isn’t trying to fix everything that’s wrong with me.”
I chuckle. I don’t know much about Veronica other than she’s Ethan’s wife’s twin, but I know Nic well enough to recognize the truth in Veronica’s words. Nic is a fixer. She wants to make everyone’s life better, and I’m sure her twin isn’t exempt. “Make yourself comfortable.”
She lifts her beer to her lips and stops halfway, grimacing. “Do you mind if I drink this?”
Ugh. I might not know much about her, but apparently she knows some key details about me. Colton, the addict. My reputation precedes me. Fucking fantastic. “Not even a little.”
She considers her beer for a minute before standing halfway and launching it into a nearby trash can. “I’m too cold for a beer anyway,” she says, and maybe it’s a lie to make me more comfortable or maybe it’s true. She’s wearing a tank-style dress, and her arms are covered in goose bumps.
She settles back into her seat and shivers delicately, rubbing her hands together as she looks out toward the beach.
Veronica and Nic are identical, and when I first met them I had a hell of a time telling them apart, but then I realized the trick: there’s something about Veronica that always strikes me as hotter. Maybe it’s the way she carries herself or the look in her eye that tells me she carries a chip on her shoulder too. Or maybe it’s just the psychology of knowing she’s available. Whatever it is, I take advantage of her diverted attention and use the moment to check her out—her silky light brown hair, her plump pink lips, the freckles on her shoulders, and the swell of her tits. Her hard nipples. The sight of her makes me feel alive in a way I haven’t in too long.
“I don’t know why I come to these things,” she says. She closes her eyes and rubs her temples. “Scratch that. I come for my son and for Nic. But I guess I don’t know why the loneliness always takes me by surprise.”
Veronica is the only other person at this party who’s welcomed by the Jacksons but not really one of them. Her words are so close to my own thoughts that they startle me a bit, and I immediately want to defend my surrogate family. “If you go down to the fire, they’ll include you. They wouldn’t invite you just to make you feel ignored.”
She cuts her eyes to me and smirks. “Says the guy who took a spot on the patio instead of joining them on the beach.”
I shrug. Kathleen and the kids are all tucked into beds inside the cabin, which means the couples have all paired off down by the water. Veronica and I are the only single folks here. I could take a blanket down to the waterfront and join the others, but I’d rather take a stick to the eye. “I’d go down there if I wanted to. I just . . . don’t want that tonight.”
She smiles, but there’s a sadness in her expression that unsettles something deep in my gut. “Me neither. Some days I can pretend I’m okay being on the outside, but tonight I’m feeling raw.”
I arch a brow. “Any reason?”
“Foster kid baggage. Old regrets.” She tips her head back and closes her eyes. I can practically see her getting lost in the memory. “I used to pull all my tricks, thinking if I was bad enough they’d send me home. And maybe it didn’t work, but at least it meant we never had to stay anywhere long. But this one time we were placed with this woman who had the patience of a saint, who made a real good home for kids.” She blows out a breath and opens her eyes. “I ended up screwing that up too, but the Christmas after we were kicked out, I walked to her house and hid in the bushes to watch her and her charges through the window. I sat there for an hour in the cold, so jealous of how happy they all looked and so angry with myself for screwing up my chance to be part of it.”