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Page 9
Hayden didn’t say anything for a moment. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
Lucy could only shake her head. When Hayden turned off Riverside Drive and coasted to a stop in front of a town house, Lucy glanced at her questioningly. “Where are we?”
“This is my place.” She sounded almost embarrassed over that fact, but Lucy couldn’t fathom why. “For another couple weeks, anyway. I’m handing over the keys to the new owner in July when I permanently move in with Brent.” Her face flushed a little. “When I thought you were bringing a friend along for the week, I thought you could make use of it. You know, two single girls in Manhattan, so close to the action…”
For a girl who grew up sharing everything with two gigantic older brothers, then stuffed into a dorm, followed by a tiny two-bedroom for the last six years, the very idea floored her. She just barely resisted the urge to cabbage patch. “Me? This place?”
“That was the idea, but now that you’re solo—”
“Even better. I don’t have to wear pants.”
Hayden nodded sagely. “There is that.”
Lucy pushed the passenger-side door open and stood, staring up at the town house. Hayden rounded the car to stand beside her. “Thanks, Hayden. I really appreciate this.”
“Sure.” She shifted in her high heels. “I hope it doesn’t seem like we don’t want you with us in Queens. Brent wasn’t exactly thrilled when I suggested this. He was looking forward to having his sister around.”
Something lodged in Lucy’s throat. “Really?” she managed.
Bafflement transformed Hayden’s features. “Of course.”
What would he think if he knew you’d duped his best friend into sleeping with you?
With that disturbing thought ringing in her head, Lucy busied herself removing her suitcase from the trunk. Hayden put a hand on her wrist to stop her. “Wait. I figured you would stay with us, at least for tonight. You probably haven’t even eaten—”
“Really, I’m just exhausted. I wouldn’t be good company.” Lucy kept her smile in place, but it felt like it might crack at any moment. “I can order takeout or something. Don’t worry about me.”
Hayden looked dubious, but stepped back. “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow night, no matter what, right?”
Lucy pulled the handle up on her suitcase. “Tomorrow night?”
“Brent didn’t tell you?” At Lucy’s blank expression, she sighed. “My parents are throwing us an engagement party at their place, which is actually right around the corner from here. It’s going to be small. Mostly just family and a few close friends.” She twisted her engagement ring on her finger. “You’ll come, won’t you?”
Close friends. Oh God, would Matt be there? The blood in Lucy’s veins froze, but she couldn’t deny a tiny flip in her stomach that she would see him again, no matter the circumstances. Proving she needed a psychiatric evaluation stat. There was no way she could avoid her brother’s engagement party, though. She no longer had school as an excuse. Hayden stood there, watching her expectantly, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow when Lucy stayed silent far too long. Obviously, she would have to go and pray Matt didn’t attend. Or…hide when he did?
The live studio audience in her head broke into laughter, at her expense.
She cleared her throat. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Chapter Six
Matt stood outside the Upper West Side brownstone, debating whether or not to actually go inside. Small get-together, Brent had told him. Right. It looked like half the city was in attendance. He wasn’t good with crowds and even worse making small talk. This was not his scene, a fact Brent obviously knew well, hence his under-exaggeration. After the sleepless night he’d had after dropping off Sasha, he was even less equipped than usual to handle this many people, closing in on him, making him feel claustrophobic.
Parties had never appealed to him, but since returning from Afghanistan, they made him even more uncomfortable. He couldn’t monitor everything taking place around him, couldn’t see who was standing behind him, didn’t like the constant coming and going of new faces. It made him sweat, made it harder to focus on the questions people inevitably threw at him after a few drinks. What did you do, exactly, overseas? Did you see action? Is The Hurt Locker an accurate portrayal?
It brought the memories he lived with each day even closer to the surface, until they were unavoidable. Until he couldn’t blink without seeing the horror all over again, feel the sun beating down on him as he waited for a target to move into place. Sometimes he could even taste the sand in his mouth, feel it in his eyes. They all paled in comparison to the worst memory of all, the one that felt fresh enough to have occurred yesterday.
Tommy.
The front door of the brownstone burst open, interrupting his thoughts. Brent ducked under the doorframe and walked out onto the top step. “You going to stand out here all night, Matty? We got free food in here. Don’t make me come down there and put you in a headlock.”
Despite his reluctance to go inside, he felt himself relax. He had a love-hate relationship with Brent, but he knew his friends were the only thing keeping him from the total seclusion he craved. Being a sniper condoned his isolation, in a way. Thankfully, they never pried too far into his past, something for which he was grateful. Even so, they’d made it clear that when he felt like talking about it, they would listen.
He’d had people in his life once before like that, though, hadn’t he? Before the rug got pulled out from under him, leaving him flat on his ass.
Brent made an impatient noise. “Come on, sweetheart. I promise I’ll be with you the whole time.”
Matt casually flipped him the bird as he ascended the steps.
“That’s more like it. Let’s get you a cold one.” Brent threw a heavy arm around his shoulder. “There are a bunch of dudes with trays, handing out pink champagne. If I’m not careful I’m going to start liking it. If that ever happens, take my man card, please.”
“You lost your man card when you belted the Beaches theme song at City Hall.”
They walked inside, Brent immediately zeroing in on Hayden, who turned and met his eyes on cue. “Yeah. But look what I got in exchange.”
Matt declined a glass of champagne with a shake of his head. “So what happened to this being a small get-together?”
Brent shrugged and took the champagne Matt had declined. “You know how the Winsteads roll. I think I saw Donald Trump around here somewhere.” He downed the drink in one gulp. “Hey, man. Did I thank you yet for getting Lucy here in one piece? That’s no small accomplishment. She usually leaves some form of destruction in her path. I guess she’s like her brother in that way.”
“Lucy?” Matt shook his head “She’s with her boyfriend at his lake house.”
Brent leaned back. “Lucy has a boyfriend?” He set the empty glass down with a decisive thunk. “My little sister has a boyfriend?”
Hayden walked up and laid a hand on Brent’s arm. “Everything okay here, gents?”
“Where’d Lucy go?” Brent scanned the crowd. “Apparently there’s some guy with a lake house I need to put the fear of God into.”
Matt held up a hand. “Wait. Lucy is here?”
Brent tilted his head. “Have you been stealing pot from the evidence loc
ker again? You dropped her off here last night.”
He opened his mouth to correct Brent when he saw her. The words died on his lips, along with any semblance of rational thought. Sasha. In a strapless green dress, tipping back a glass of champagne as she walked in his direction. His body’s reaction was twice as potent as the day in the coffee shop because this time, he knew. Knew she could turn him inside out with a look, a touch, a sound ripped from her throat. She was danger on two legs and he wanted to immerse himself in it. Her.
These fevered thoughts came and multiplied in strength before she’d even noticed him standing there, but now she slowed to a stop, gaze shooting wide. Steps faltering. As if she’d never expected to see him again. Oh, he didn’t fucking like that at all. Matt allowed the satisfying image of him carrying her from the party over his shoulder to linger in his mind. It made up for her lack of pleasure at discovering him there. He’d thought of her nonstop since last night, worrying for her safety, wondering if he’d hurt her, fantasizing about their too-short hour in the motel, when she’d obviously had no intention of calling him.
“Luce, get over here.” Brent dragged her forward and held her against his side. “You have a boyfriend and you didn’t tell me?”
Matt felt the blood drain from his face. No…no. Please let him have heard wrong. Sasha wasn’t Sasha…she was Lucy? Lucy, as in Brent’s sister. How could it be possible? Seeing her petite form standing beside Brent, such a huge contrast in their appearances, made it seem like a crazy joke. But it so obviously wasn’t. Her guilt was plastered all over her face. Not happening. Jesus. This girl, whom he’d had one of the most honest experiences of his life with, had been lying to him the whole time. It felt like déjà vu.