The Wedding Game Page 51
The only good thing about all of this . . . the girl who’s packing up her bag and avoiding all eye contact with me. I got her text last night, but I didn’t want to drag her into the dark hole I was headed down, and I sure as shit didn’t want her to see the emotions I was holding at bay. And yet, I should have known she was going to show up at my door—because that’s the kind of girl she is. Loving, caring, a fixer.
Seeing her walk into my apartment cracked me open. I tried to avoid my emotions, wash them away with a bottle of whiskey, but it didn’t work. Instead, I broke down in front of her. When she could have turned away, she didn’t. She held my hand; she listened to me. And then she did the best thing she could have done for me in that moment.
She stayed.
She held me.
She made me feel worthy of someone’s love.
And even though this morning was stressful, she still took the time to comfort me one last time before she took off.
Within the last twenty-four hours, I’ve realized two things: my mom still doesn’t care about me—never has, probably never will—and Luna Rossi is cementing herself in my heart, which I was never expecting. Not because I didn’t think Luna was a forever kind of girl, but because I didn’t think I was the kind of guy who could let someone into his heart in the first place. I wasn’t sure I was capable of the kind of feelings I have for Luna—nor did I think I wanted those feelings.
As the set begins to empty out, I want to call out to her, take her hand, and let everyone know that this is my girl.
My fucking girl.
My fucking girl, who looked really excited just now, and I couldn’t even ask her why.
“Hear that?” Thad mutters beside me. “Be on time.”
Yeah, Thad has been a bitch this entire day, putting on a smile for the camera but undercutting me every chance he gets when the red light isn’t on. It’s been . . . fun. Insert sarcastic thumbs-up here
“Safe travels, everyone. We will see you next week. Hope no one is getting cold feet,” Diane says before taking off, Marco and Mary DIY already gone.
“Let’s get out of here,” Thad says to Naomi, turning toward the exit, but she stops him with a hand to his arm.
“Hold on a second.” She holds my gaze. “Alec, is everything okay?”
“He’s clearly hungover, Naomi.” Thad gestures to me as I sit on one of our workbench stools. “I can smell the booze on him, under all the aftershave he thinks is covering it up. He doesn’t care about this, so why should we care about him?”
“He’s trying, Thad.”
“Is he?” Thad shoots back, but he stares at me while he says it. “One week he cared. One week he made it seem like he’d really changed, but now it just seems like he’s taking after our dad, brushing me off and drinking too much.”
“Thad,” Naomi chastises.
“It’s fine.” I stand from the stool and move away from them, hand in my hair. “Maybe you’re right, Thad—maybe I was following in Dad’s footsteps, but I know one thing: he never would have shown up to this . . . and neither would Mom. I’d think about what someone might be going through before making yourself the victim.” I nod at Naomi. “See you next week.”
As I turn and walk away, I hear Naomi mutter to Thad to go after me, but no footsteps follow me, and that’s fine. Right now, I just want to go back to my apartment and try to figure out what the hell I’m going to do to make this all better.
Luna: Farrah wants you to come over. She says she has a right hook she wants to test out on you.
Alec: As appealing as that sounds, it’s better if I stay here. Alone. Not in the best mood.
Luna: Want me to come over?
Alec: I would give anything right now to have your body on top of mine and my hands up your shirt, but it wouldn’t be for the right reasons. Plus, you should probably give Farrah some attention if she’s gearing up a right hook. Might need some Luna Moon love.
Luna: Farrah has enjoyed the alone time. Don’t tell her I told you this, but she mentioned being able to masturbate in peace.
Alec: LOL. Okay, I just spit water down my shirt.
Luna: Oh no, you’re going to have to take off your shirt now. What a shame.
Alec: You’re not even here to enjoy the show.
Luna: No, but you can send me a picture . . . prayer hands
Alec: [picture] My girl asks, my girl gets.
Luna: sigh You even got your nipples in the shot. I really like your nipples. Not too small and not too big, the perfect size for a man.
Alec: Thank you?
Luna: Ha ha. You’re welcome. But seriously, I can come over, we can talk . . .
Alec: How did I know you were going to say that?
Luna: Bottling it up is not going to help, Alec.
Alec: I know, Luna Moon. Just give me a little bit of time, okay? Everything is so raw right now, shit is floating up from the past, Thad is . . . hell, he’s being Thad but on a whole new level. I just need a second to breathe.
Luna: I understand. But I’m here for you if you need me.
Alec: I know. Want to go out tomorrow? Someplace nice?
Luna: Are you asking me out on a date?
Alec: I am.
Luna: I might be interested.
Alec: You better be. I really want to take you out.
Luna: Well, if you REALLY want to take me out, then I guess I don’t have a choice. What time?
Alec: Seven. I’ll pick you up. Farrah can show me her right hook, and then we can head out.
Luna: I just told Farrah that and she immediately stood up and started jabbing the air. I’m going to take that as a yes.
Alec: Perfect. Hey, I meant to ask, what was all the excitement about today on set?
Luna: Tell you about it tomorrow.
Alec: Okay. Have a good night, Luna Moon.
Luna: You too.
Note to self: drinking heavily is no longer in my repertoire. Two days after my night of Jack Daniel’s, and I’m still feeling like utter shit. I know some of the blame has to go on my family baggage, but 90 percent of the blame goes on the whiskey—because holy fuck, my body is feeling it.
My muscles ache.
My head still hurts.
And if I sniff just right, I can still smell the booze clinging to my body, despite the many showers I’ve taken.
Taking a deep breath, I gulp some more water down and try to focus on the private investigator report spread out on my desk.
Concentrate, Baxter.
The words swim together, Ts looking like Ls and Ms looking like Ws. Wow, this is worse than I thought.
I lean back in my chair as my office phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Alec, I have Naomi here to see you?” our receptionist, Anita, says. “Do you have time to meet with her?”
“Yeah, sure,” I say, surprised. “Send her back.”
I stand from my desk and take another sip of water. I consider putting my suit jacket back on, but she’s about to be my sister-in-law, so there’s no need for formality. Instead, I push my sleeves up farther and am grabbing a water from my minifridge for her just as she knocks on the door and steps inside.
“Hey, Naomi,” I say, feeling a little awkward, given how we ended things yesterday. “How are you?”
“Good.” She shuts the door behind her. “I’m sorry about stopping by uninvited, but I figured this would be the best way to talk to you . . . without Thad.”
I nod and offer her a seat along with the water I pulled from the fridge. She sits down and sighs, leaning back, her hand to her rounded belly. “Do you happen to have anything to eat? I forgot a snack, and this baby is sucking me dry.”
I chuckle and head toward the cabinets next to my minifridge. “How about some trail mix?”
“Is there chocolate in it?”
“What’s trail mix without chocolate?” I say, grabbing a bag for each of us.
“A boring healthy snack.”
“Exactly.”
She tears open her package and tips it directly into her mouth.
“I might need another one,” she says after chewing and swallowing. “But let’s see how this first one goes.”
“I have plenty.” I chuckle as I take a seat on the chair across from her.
“What a hostess.”
With the moistest . . . I inwardly laugh.
“Not to be rude, Naomi, but why are you here?”
“Yes, let’s get down to business.” She takes a sip of water and then crosses one leg over the other. “What happened on Saturday? You were off. And then you showed up late on Sunday—that’s not like you.”
“Just—”
“And don’t lie to me. We might not know each other as well as I wish we did, but I’d at least hope you wouldn’t lie to me.”
Man, she’s a tough one. I can’t imagine what living with her must be like. Thad probably can’t get away with anything.
I have two options here: I can lie through my teeth and let her believe it was some work thing, or I can be open with Naomi and hope this helps me get a bit closer to Thad. Option one is easier, but option two might settle some of the rattling that seems to be going on in my hollow chest.
I sigh and lean my forearms on my knees. “You know how we were allowed to invite people to set on Saturday?”
“Yeah, Helen brought her uninterested husband with the hairy ears. I can see why she’s such a pill.”
“Is that who that was?”
Naomi nods. “Oh yeah, Barry, I believe his name is. I had the distinct pleasure of being introduced to him while I was trying to run to the bathroom before we started filming. But that’s not what we should be talking about. Did you invite someone?”
“I did.” I clasp my hands together. “I invited my mom.”