Spinning Out(The Blackhawk Boy #1)(26)

"It's always good to be close to family."

Bailey busies herself filling water glasses, and Mia bites her lip and  stares at Sebastian. For the first time it occurs to me that maybe she  didn't tell her father about working here. Her old man would probably go  on a tear if he knew. Does Sebastian know that?

"You should probably go check on dinner," Gwen says to Mia.

Mia nods and scurries out of the room, Bailey not far behind.





"Did you know Mr. Muscles was on the team?" Bailey asks. "Because damn.  Sebastian Mother-May-I? And the way he was looking at you? I think he  would have tried to devour you whole if he didn't have an audience."

I pull the broiling pan from the oven and sprinkle the filet with blue  cheese crumbles before sliding the pan back in to let it melt. "You have  an overactive imagination. He was looking at me like that because he  knows how my dad would feel about me working here. Not everything is  sexual."

"Not everything." She cuts a slit in each of the foil-wrapped potatoes  and then positions them on the plates lining the counter. "But most  things, and definitely the way he was eye-fucking you."

Sebastian definitely wasn't eye-fucking me-he was looking at me like a  guy who knows how my father would feel about my job-but there's no use  arguing any such thing with Bailey. She sees what she wants to see.                       
       
           



       

We work in silence for a few minutes, then she sighs heavily and turns to me. "Ask me about Mason."

"What? Why?"

"I've been good. I don't ask questions. I don't demand you tell me  things normal best friends tell each other. So ask me about Mason so I  can talk about the damn elephant in the room."

I fold my arms. "Fine. What's going on with you and Mason?"

"Nothing. I broke it off when Nic got out of prison."

"I remember." She fed me some bullshit excuse about things getting too  serious between the two of them, but I knew the truth. Nic was home, and  she needed to be available.

"Mason has been nothing but a friend for me since," she says. "Trust me,  I wanted more after Nic died, but Mason says we can't be just sex  anymore. He said we're in too deep for that, so he's holding out. No sex  unless I'll be his girlfriend, and you and I both know I'm not in a  place to sign up for that. So. Your turn."

"Wait. Slow down. Mason won't sleep with you?"

"Selfish motherfucker, isn't he?"

I bite my lip. "I kind of respect his restraint. He cares about you, and he wants more. It's sweet."

She narrows her eyes. "It's sexual blackmail." Grabbing the potholder,  she opens the oven, pulls out the steaks, and begins adding them to the  plates. I follow behind her with the green beans.

"Let's get these on the table before they get cold," I say, grabbing a few plates.

We serve dinner and refill drinks. Sebastian watches me with undisguised  curiosity the whole time, but we're able to escape the dining room  without another awkward conversation.

"The elephant!" Bailey says when we're back in the kitchen.

"What's the elephant?"

She grabs my hand and pulls me into the living room and out the French  doors. "Arrow. I'm going to be honest, I was hoping him coming home  might be good for you. Good for you both." Her eyes are soft and gentle,  and I know all I have to do is say that I don't want to talk about it  and she'll let it drop.

"I'm the reason Brogan was in the middle of the street in the middle of  the night. Arrow should hate me for that. How could being around him be  good for me?"

She tilts her head and squeezes my shoulder. "I thought maybe he'd help you live your life instead of hiding from it."

"I'm not hiding." The words come out sharper than I intend.

"Don't be mad. I'm being selfish. I never see you anymore. I miss you."

"You're not selfish." I drop my gaze to my hands. I hoped the fresh air  would do me good, but the night is hot and I can't breathe much better  out here than I could in there. "And you're not the first person to say  I'm not really living. Arrow has said the same thing." If I've been  avoiding my life it isn't a conscious choice, but I understand why they  see it that way. I didn't think it mattered. Who cares if I just go  through the motions? Who cares if I never feel sincerely happy again?

I know Bailey cares. And I guess Arrow does, too. I'm not sure what to make of that.

"Do you ever wish you'd picked Arrow?" she asks softly.

Lifting my head, I study the wispy clouds floating across the starry  night sky. "I don't know. All I know is that I wish we hadn't been out  there that night. I wish Brogan could still laugh and Nic could still be  my overprotective big brother. I don't think of what would have  happened if I'd picked Arrow." I swallow hard, pushing down tears before  they surge too high. "I think, what would things be like if I'd stayed  away from both of them like I said I would when I met them? Brogan would  be himself. We wouldn't have been out there that night. And Nicholas  would still be alive."

"Are you okay, Mee? I mean, do you need to talk to someone?"

"I'm talking to you."

"You've been through a lot. No one expects you to be Wonder Woman. I'm  just saying . . ." She finds my hand and squeezes. "If you ever think  not living would be easier than living, call me first, okay?"

"Okay," I say. I swallow hard. I remember talking to her about Romeo and  Juliet the night I met Arrow. We laughed, remembering what an idiot  Juliet was. I never understood her before. Not really. But now I can  imagine what it was like to wake up in that tomb and see Romeo dead  beside her. The guilt. The grief. I'm not looking for a dagger, and I  don't want to die. But there are days-maybe more than I want to  admit-when I don't want to live either. "I'm not Juliet," I whisper.  "Don't worry about that."                       
       
           



       

"Damn straight you're not," she says, "because you've got me. You wake  up from the poison and instead of grabbing the dagger to stab into your  heart when you see Romeo is dead, I drag your ass out of there and point  out that the friar is pretty fucking fly, too."

"The friar?" That is so Bailey it makes me laugh, only it's not the  forced laugh I've been pushing through my lips for months. It's real,  and something brightens inside the darkness in my chest. "If only  Shakespeare had given Juliet someone like you."

"Would have been a better play."

We grin at each other and settle into silence. It's so pretty out here with the stars and the lights reflecting off the pool.

"Dinner was great," someone says behind us, and just like that the  moment of tranquility fizzles into thin air. Sebastian closes the doors  behind him and takes the steps down to the patio. "But I have to admit,  you were the last person I expected to see here tonight."

I shrug. "Now you know how I feel. Why did you let me think you were a mechanic?"

He unbuttons his shirt sleeves and rolls them to his elbows. "Because I  am a mechanic, Mia. Dad's owned the shop all my life, and I practically  grew up there."

"You made me believe-"

"You assumed," he says, his voice gentler than the truth. "Not all of us  are like Woodison and get to play our way through college and have  everything we need handed to us."

I tense. "He's not like that."

"And how much do you know about what Woodison is and isn't like?" He  turns his head and scans the brick façade of the backside of the house.  "You two must be pretty cozy living here together."

"Oh, fuck off," Bailey says. "Don't act like you have to work for your  meal ticket and then judge her for taking a really fucking great job."

He turns. "I don't think I was talking to you."

Bailey leans against the side of the house and rolls her head from side  to side. "When you're out here trying to shame my girl? You might as  well be talking to me."

"Bailey, it's okay." I turn to Sebastian. "There's nothing going on  between me and Arrow, but please don't tell my dad I'm working here. He  would freak."

"And yet here you are," Sebastian says.

"Somebody's gotta pay the bills."

I expect more argument-that there are other jobs in town, that this  isn't the only choice I have-but I don't get any. Sebastian nods slowly.  "I get that."

"Crap," Bailey says. She wipes the back of her hand across her sweaty  forehead. "Mrs. Woodison is in the kitchen. I bet she's looking for us."