Snapshot, p.9
Snapshot, page 9
Sawyer stops by my side, still sporting a scowl. “They are going to be trashed tomorrow.”
“Better them than me.”
He snorts. “Maybe this is where she pantses you in front of everyone.”
“Fuck, I wish.”
He slaps the back of my head and shakes his. “Who knew you were so twisted?”
“She makes me crazy.” I’d pay Winnie to take my pants off if I didn’t think that would offend her. “But I’m not me without her.”
After she downs a few more shots, her movements relax, and my hat hardly hangs off her head anymore. She’s more drunk than I would prefer her to be. Maybe we won’t have sex tonight, but sleeping next to her will be almost as good. Big emphasis on almost.
“I’m gonna piss, and then we should probably get them home,” I tell Sawyer before heading for the bathrooms. Being sober in a club is annoying, but being sober in a club bathroom is fucking nasty. There’s a couple in the corner, and the guy is getting head, while another dude is passed out across the room. I pay no attention to anything else, doing what I need to do and hurrying out.
I find Sawyer leaning against the bar with his head hung between his shoulders.
“You good?”
“Our talk is fucking with my head. And watching her dance…” his jaw clenches. “When we were kids she was always dancing. Em and I used to beg our driver to take us to her recitals, but once I got my license I’d sneak into her practices and just watch her. The way she moves—”
His mouth clamps shut and he doesn’t say anything more.
“You know, they say dancers and figure skaters are one in the same.”
“Yeah, I know.”
I clap his back. “You’re right.”
He glances at me and furrows his brows.
“You’re fucked. Now let’s go get our girls and get the fuck outta here.”
The place has only gotten more crowded as the night has gone on, so it takes longer than I’d like to find the girls, and when we do, everything inside me revolts at the sight.
“You gonna go get her?” Sawyer asks, stopping by me and glaring at the scene in front of us.
I take a step but pause. My chest burns with the need to get to her and push away the same guy from earlier, but not yet.
“No,” I tell him simply, even if everything inside me hates myself for saying it. “Not until she needs me to.”
It doesn’t take long. Winnie throws her hands in the air, spins to the guy, and rips into him. I wish I was close enough to hear, but her pissed-off face says enough.
Sawyer chuckles. “You got a feisty one, Reese. Sure you can handle her?”
She shoves a finger in the guy’s chest, and he holds his hands up in defeat and steps back.
I grin. “Yeah, I can handle her just fine.”
Winnie glares at him for a beat more before turning and throwing her hair over her shoulder to join her friends again. Sawyer and I tense when the guy doesn’t move. It’s like a switch goes off, and his wide eyes tighten as he zeros in on them. His jaw locks, and I don’t wait another second. Sawyer is right behind me, ready to back me up if I need it. The guy might be close to the same size, but I’d bet money I can hold more anger than he can, resulting in a meaner punch. He doesn’t get a step in before Sawyer and I block him from getting any closer.
“You were so close.” I tsk.
“Close to what?” he bites back.
“Not making me do this.” I pull my arm back and slam my fist into his nose. My knuckles pop, but I hardly feel it. Elijah was always the one who liked to fight, but there were several times I had to step in and help him out when he would take on too many or someone bigger than him. The guy drops, holding his nose. He makes a move to get up, and Sawyer places his foot across his chest.
“I wouldn’t.”
It takes longer than it should for the guy to make the right choice. There’s not a single way he thought he would take both of us, and there’s no one around him, so I’m guessing he’s alone. After a minute, Sawyer pulls him up. He tugs him close and mutters, “Think of touching our girls again, and I’ll break your hands.” Then he shoves him away. He scowls at us but eventually turns and disappears into the thick crowd.
Sawyer drops his eyes to my hand. “You good?”
“Yeah, I’ll ice it when we get home. Let’s get out of here.”
10
Reese
Drunk Winnie is a handful. I don’t know how many of those little test-tube shots she had when I was in the bathroom, but enough to be a giggling mess. It’s like she’s a child again, and her dad is chasing her through the house, trying to get her into the tub. Except it’s me chasing her around the car, and she’s not naked. Unfortunately.
I get her in, grab my hat back, flip the child safety lock, and slam the door in her face before she can jump out. Again.
Sawyer rolls down his window and cocks an eyebrow at me.
“Yeah, yeah.” I brush him off and head around to my seat. “Go,” I tell him as soon as my door is closed. “Before she tries to jump through the sunroof.”
Winnie leans forward, and Sawyer floors it.
“I’m hungry.”
“I have something you can eat.” I grin, but she doesn’t. Instead, genuine confusion etches across her face, and Sawyer barks out a laugh.
“Trust me, you don’t want what he’s got. But there is a Subway on the way home.”
Winnie makes a gagging noise, and he frowns.
“Not a fan of Subway?”
“No. But I do like pizza. Is there pizza?”
The other two girls lean forward and squeal in happiness, wanting pizza too, and no matter how many times we tell them no, Sawyer caves and turns down the road that leads to our favorite joint.
It’s the definition of hole-in-the-wall, but they stay open until three a.m. for all the college kids to grab a slice after the bars, and their pizza is fucking amazing. Best in town, and I’ve tried them all, several times. But we keep coming back to Max’s Slices because it’s just that damn good. I’m glad I get to show Winnie it for the first time. I know she’s going to love it.
That is, if she is sober enough to remember how good it is. And if not, I guess I’ll have to bring her back when she is. I jump down from the truck and wander over to Sawyer’s side to pull open her door since she can’t do it herself. As soon as it opens, she tumbles out right into my arms. I steady her and try not to focus on how close my hands are to her ass. Or how she’s breathing on my neck and it’s fucking erotic as shit.
Her teeth chatter together, and I push her away to see her face. “Are you cold?”
I don’t wait for her to nod before I’m pulling off my sweatshirt and slipping it over her head. It hangs off her narrow shoulders like a dress. The sleeves are too long, and it hits her mid-thigh, but fuck it all if she doesn’t look so damn sexy in my clothes.
“Let’s get you some ’za.” Before I do something I shouldn’t. Like fuck her against Sawyer’s truck.
The best part about Max’s is the pizza by the slice. Any kind you want, and they have a ton that are ready after a quick run through the oven.
“It smells so good in here.” Winnie sucks in a deep breath with her nose in the air. “What do you normally get?”
“I like the pulled pork. But I think you’ll like the macaroni.”
Her eyes widen with excitement, reminding me so much of a young Winnie. “They have macaroni on pizza?”
“Yeah.” I chuckle. “It’s really good too.”
“I love it here.” She spins to face me. Tilting her head to stare at me—or my lips, mostly. Losing all train of thought, I take in her lips, so soft, so pink, so wet from her dragging her tongue across them, and so begging me to take them.
My heart races. I lean down, she closes her eyes, and—
“Next!”
She jumps, ramming her head into my chin. We groan at the pain, and I feel around, but there’s no blood. Fuck, she has a hard head, though.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
I kiss the place Winnie is rubbing on her head before greeting Tony. He graduated from college within the last ten years and is a really cool dude. His brother Max, who he named the place after, is the biggest Timberwolves fan—specifically hockey—and Coach is cool enough to give Max and Tony season passes every year.
“Thanks, man.” I scowl, seeing his shitty grin because he knows what he just interrupted.
“Anytime, and who is this?” He leans on the counter between us and eyes Winnie with interest.
“Winnie.” Her voice is almost too sweet. Without a second thought, she offers her dainty hand to the big man behind the counter. He takes it, shakes, and brings it toward his lips to press a kiss.
“Alright, alright. He punched one dick tonight, we don’t need to make it two.” Sawyer pushes between us, making him drop Winnie’s hand.
“That right?” Tony lifts an eyebrow.
I shrug it off, not wanting to get into it. I order our food before stepping aside to let Sawyer get his, then lead a bouncy Winnie over to a booth and let her drop onto the squeaky seat before sliding in after her.
“Are you excited, or are you cold and trying to stay warm?”
She giggles the sweetest sound. “Excited. I haven’t had good pizza in so long.”
Shit, that’s right. I forgot the pizza place back home closed a few years ago.
“Well, it’s the best. You can’t beat it besides the help.”
She giggles again and falls into my open chest. For as long as I can remember, Winnie has smelled of raspberries and vanilla. I broke down once and asked what the smell was, and she said it was her body wash. I’m glad she still uses the same stuff; the smell is so comforting. There were so many nights we would sit up on her roof, and I would catch whiffs of the sweetness. It brings back a lot of good memories.
I drop an arm on her back, and she sighs.
“I’m going to regret letting you hold me like this.”
“Guess I need to appreciate it while you do, then.” I pull her closer and kiss the top of her head. “You don’t have to regret it, though, Win. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
She doesn’t reply, not that I expected her to. The others join us after stopping off at the arcade games in the corner, and she sits up but stays close. Sawyer shoots me a look, and I shrug. I don’t know what’s happening. All I know is I’m enjoying holding her.
“Sawyer! Reese,” Max cheers when he sees us.
“Hey, buddy. What’s going on tonight?” Sawyer pulls him in for a bro-hug.
I stand and do the same across the table.
“Pizza, pizza, pizza.”
I can’t help but match his laugh. It’s contagious. “All the best things, then, man.”
Tony passes out our slices and rests a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Don’t be rude, Max. Greet the pretty ladies these two chumps are lucky enough to court around.”
“Pretty! Pretty!”
“You remember my sister, Emma, and her friend, Laney?”
Max nods excitedly. Then he looks at Winnie, and his eyes get big. Me too, buddy. Me too.
“Red! Red!”
“Whoa, hold on there. This one is taken.”
Winnie slaps my hand wrapped around her body. “I’m Winnie. It’s nice to meet you, Max.”
“Max! Max!” He points to himself, so happy that she knew his name. Then he begins to sing the theme song of the Winnie the Pooh movie, and a laugh falls from my lips. Winnie slaps me again. Her smile is friendly, but I know if it were anyone else, she wouldn’t be smiling. She hates the comparisons, especially after losing her dad.
“Yeah, just like the bear.” She giggles.
“Alright, kid. Let’s let them eat.”
Max complains, but Tony promises he can check on us in a bit, which seems to soothe him enough.
“He’s sweet,” Winnie says.
“Yeah, he is. Their parents passed away years ago, so Max was left to Tony to care for and raise.”
“Oh, wow.” Her lips puff out a small amount. “That’s so sad.”
I look over the booth to the two brothers now behind the counter. Max jokingly snaps Tony with the towel, and he pretends to get mad. It can’t be easy, doing what Tony does and knowing there’s no end to the care Max needs, but I commend him for it. He mentioned there being a few times he’s caught people making fun of Max, and he’s kicked them out, but if it were me heads would roll. How can you make fun of someone just because they are different than you? I’ll never fucking understand.
“They make the best of it.”
Winnie nods, seeing the same thing I am.
“Dig in.” I squeeze her shoulder to turn her back around.
After the pizza, she seems even more sober, but she’s still leaning against my chest, and I’m too afraid to bring attention to it. Sawyer stands and collects all our garbage with the help of Laney, and they carry it over to the trash cans across the room. Emma is hardly awake on her side of the table. How she hasn’t noticed the tension between her friend and brother, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I know what I know, but when Laney accidentally bumps into him, she jumps away—way further than necessary—and her cheeks bloom a deep red. They share a quick look, but she is gone and heading for the door before anything can be said. It’s so painfully obvious now.
He stares after her for a long time, and his chest rises and falls as if he’s letting out a deep breath.
“Emma,” I call out, and Winnie jumps in my arms. She must have been sleeping, too, because now that she’s awake, she quickly removes herself from against my body, leaving behind a chill.
“Ready?” Sawyer asks, only getting nods in return.
“Later, gators,” I holler, waving to Max and Tony in the back.
“In a while, crocodile,” Max shouts before he starts singing the Winnie the Pooh theme song again.
Winnie smiles and waves. “Bye, Max!”
I open my wallet and grab a twenty. Sawyer paid for the pizza, and it’s a rule that whoever buys the food, the other is responsible for the tip, so I drop the cash on the table. Moving to fold up my wallet and put it away, I falter when Winnie snatches it from my hands.
“If you need money, baby. All you gotta do is ask.” My smile falls when she doesn’t pull out cash. Instead, she pulls out a photo.
Shit.
“What the hell is this?”
11
Reese
Flashback
“What the fuck is happening in my house right now?” Elijah pushes open the door, and the music we could hear from outside blares louder.
The house isn’t filled with people, and I don’t think they would be playing The Supremes if they were having a party. I’ve come to love oldies, thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Lewis always blasting it when they cook, but I’m not sure “You Can’t Hurry Love” is a party song, though maybe I’m wrong. I don’t know what old people parties are like. I’m assuming they don’t happen at four p.m. on a Tuesday, though.
“Tigger! Eeyore,” Winnie shouts as soon as we step into their living room. I groan internally hearing that stupid nickname. Winnie hates when we call her Pooh or Pooh Bear like her parents do, so in order to get back at us, she gave us those nicknames. Eli doesn’t seem to mind his, but I hate mine, so it worked. I don’t call her Pooh, and she doesn’t call me Eeyore—usually.
She throws herself at us in a double hug.
Mr. Lewis grins as he turns down the music. “She’s still a bit loopy from the anesthetics.”
Oh, that’s right. I forgot she was getting her wisdom teeth out today.
“How you feeling, Win? Less wise?” Eli jokes and squeezes her.
She lets go of us and scowls, but it’s a lost cause with how swollen her cheeks are. The white headband around her face isn’t easy to take seriously.
Mrs. Lewis walks back in and kisses my and Elijah’s cheek one at a time. Then she slaps the back of his head. “Be nice to your sister.”
After wrapping his arms around Winnie, Mr. Lewis belts out “My Girl” at the top of his lungs, replacing “my girl” with her name.
Elijah joins his family in singing and dancing around, and I take my seat on the couch. I’m not going to sing and dance, but I can’t lie and say I don’t love being here to witness it. The Lewises are everything I want in a family. They remind me that true love exists, and with the right person by your side, all the happiness in the world is possible.
Winnie drops next to me and leans her head on my shoulder when the song is done.
“How you feeling, Win?”
“Tired. Hungry.” She tilts her head up to look at me, her eyes glassed over and distant. “I love you, Reese.”
That’s the other difference between our families. I’ve only heard my mom utter those words once when she thought I was sleeping, and I’ve never heard my dad say them. It’s not a common phrase in my house, but the Lewises say it all the time. It feels like any time someone leaves the room, they say it. It may be excessive to some, but I think it’s nice to know how someone feels about you.
“Me too, Win.” But it doesn’t make it any easier to say, even when you feel it.
We settle into the couch and watch her parents put on a performance to “I Got You Babe,” and eventually, she drifts to sleep, her head still on my shoulder.
Elijah drops onto the side chair and slides me a plate with a sandwich and some chips. Without moving Winnie too much, I grab it and bring the sandwich to my lips.
“Oh, look,” Mrs. Lewis cries with a smile. “Stay.”
Like I have a choice.
A second later, she returns with their old Polaroid camera.
“Smile like you like being here, son.” Mr. Lewis chuckles.
They let me swallow, and I listen, leaning my head on top of Winnie’s and smiling.
