Finding Our Reality (The Reality Duet #2)

Chapter 13

CRUTCH

It’s a busy Friday night. The only available spot at the bar is next to Holt. It looks like Ray has already headed home for the night.

“Surprised to see you stomp away from the table mad. I thought for sure it would be her.”

“You and me both.” I sit down and wave my empty bottle in Will’s direction, signaling I need another. He breaks away from the crowd and quickly hands me one. I gulp it down, letting the cold liquid quench the burn in my stomach. I’m already ready for another one. Looks like I may be taking an Uber over to Marcum’s house and crashing on his couch. Maybe one day, service will eventually make it out to my house. I doubt it. Highly.

Holt and I sit for a while, watching a sports show on one of the big screen TVs behind the bar. The volume is muted so it doesn’t interfere with the music piping from the speakers. The band for tonight is setting up, but they haven’t started playing yet.

I chance a sideways glance at Holt when a story about Sunday’s big game flashes across the screen. “So, Sunday is February 1 st .”

“Yep.”

“Super Bowl Sunday.”

“Yep.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t go.”

He shrugs. “NFL asked me to go. I said no.”

“Why?”

“Because I would be sitting there, just watching the game and enjoying myself, and before you know it, they would flash my picture on the screen and spend the next few minutes talking about my injuries and what could have been. No, thank you. I’m fucking over that.”

I check the time on my phone, making sure I haven’t missed any important work calls. “Everything I read before the season started said that your team could’ve done it again this year.”

He pops his knuckles, laughing. “They could’ve. Too bad their dumbass quarterback injured himself before even stepping out onto the field.”

“From what I hear, that dumbass quarterback saved his niece’s life.”

Holt narrows his eyes, scowling at Will’s back. “Will sure has a big mouth.” He spins on his barstool, facing me. “You sure he didn’t tell you anything about Ella?”

I hold up my hands. “Promise. Lulu’s been a tight-lipped secret with all of y’all. Just the way we both wanted it, I guess.” Cullen sets a fresh beer in front of both me and Holt. “Out of curiosity, though, why did you lie about how you got hurt?”

“I already told you—the media. They’re relentless. I couldn’t put Anna through that. She’s only five. If they found out what happened, they would be talking about her, trying to interview her. I love that little girl too much to put that burden on her. Or Raylee.”

I nod, it’s all making sense now. “I never got a chance to give my condolences for your injuries. I know a couple of guys who had the same surgery. Recovery is brutal. Damn brutal. Are you doing good with it?”

“It’s been six months. I’m getting better, stronger each and every day. I rehab and work out like crazy, more now than I did when I was training.”

“Well, what’s next for you?”

Holt waggles his eyebrows and spins his bottle around and around. “Didn’t you hear? My career is completely over.”

His sarcastic humor nearly has me spitting my drink all over the floor. “Bullshit. I hate when people say that about you. You’re what? Twenty-nine? You have your whole damn life ahead of you. You can have five more careers if you want. You just have to find what you want.”

Holt smiles, his sarcasm flipping to sincerity. “I’m glad someone else finally gets it. I was beginning to worry that me and my family were the only normal ones in the northern hemisphere. People keep acting like I should be wallowing around in self-pity on my death bed because I can’t play football professionally anymore. What they never understood was, that for me, it was just a game. A game I was really good at. A game I loved playing. I’d play from morning till night if I could. But it’s not who I am. I’m still me. I just finally have to grow up now, be an adult. No more getting paid to play on a big green field.”

I laugh and pound his shoulder with my fist. “Well, you’re definitely not NFL material. They’d pull that Super Bowl ring right off your finger if they heard that.”

“Let’s keep it to ourselves.”

I toss my head in Will’s direction. “Better not tell big-mouth Will then,” I joke.

Lulu’s voice makes the hair on the back of my neck stand. “What’s so funny? What are y’all laughing about?”

Holt smiles. “Nothing.”

She frowns. “You’re lying.”

“Yes.” He doesn’t elaborate. He just turns back to watching TV. And ignoring the girls at the end of the bar who have been trying to hit on him all night long.

I glance to the side, seeing that no other barstools are available, I get up, offering mine to Lulu.

“No, it’s fine. I didn’t come up here to steal your seat.”

“Lulu, sit down.”

She licks her lips and nods. Hopping her fine ass on the cushioned leather, she places her still-full Long Island Iced Tea on a paper coaster in front of her. It’s like she’s carrying around a security blanket. She crosses her legs, drawing my attention to the tight leggings covering her skin. She rubs the scar on her neck. “So, I wanted to talk to you about next week. I think it’s time we start conducting interviews.”

“You’re gonna completely ignore the conversation we just had.” I flip my arm back in the direction of the table we had been sitting at.

She bores a hole into me with her honey-glazed eyes. “Yes.”

The redness in them is finally gone, which is good. When I saw she had been crying, I wanted to crawl across glass and beg her for her forgiveness. That was, until she made me mad. Her earlier emotions left her eye makeup smudged and her hair lightly tangled. She looks like she just got fucked. Hard.

And it’s driving me into delirium.

“So, do you agree? We start interviews next week? Monday? I’ll be out of town Tuesday and Wednesday. I can work on the case Monday, Thursday, and Friday, though. You?”

I think of my upcoming schedule. “Monday, Thursday, and Friday are fine with me.”

She lifts her chin in the air. “Good.”

She’s about to say something else when someone taps my right shoulder. Lulu’s eyes darken to small beads and her lips thin. I turn sideways, feasting my eyes on a buxom blonde. She’s pretty. Looks a little too flashy for me, but attractive, nonetheless. She flashes a bright smile and cocks her head to the side.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but you look so familiar. Do we know each other?”

Holy shit. Did I sleep with this woman? I flip through my mental little black book, trying to place her. No. No, I definitely have never seen this woman before. “No, I don’t think so.” I chug my beer in relief. I sure as hell don’t need that kind of drama with Lulu sitting right here.

“Oh well, I guess you just have one of those faces.” She reaches out and touches my bicep, fondling me through my hoodie. “A kind face, you know?”

Lulu rolls her eyes so hard I worry she’ll fall right off the barstool. I try to hide my laugh with a fake cough. It doesn’t work. Scowling, Lulu spins around, pretending to watch the TV like Holt.

The girl giggles. “Would you like to get a fresh drink? Find somewhere quiet to talk?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m just gonna hang out with my friends tonight.”

Biting her lip, trying to be seductive, she slips away. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

Lulu looks over her shoulder. “Friends? Is that what we are?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. You said you were tired of me telling you what to think about me.”

She lifts her drink to her mouth, sniffs it, and then puts it back down. She turns her head. She tries not to smile. Really, she does. She’d be furious if she knew I saw her smile. “Not yet. Maybe one day.”

Holt slaps me across the chest. “C’mon, best buddy. Buy me a drink. You have a tab, right?”

Surprisingly, the three of us fall into an easy conversation, chatting about nothing, everything. I drink a few more beers, letting the buzz of the alcohol settle over me like a comforting blanket. Its warmth gives me promise, promise of things yet to come.

Maybe she’s right.

Maybe one day we can be friends again.

And who knows, maybe that will take us back to where we were. Her lips on mine. Her heart in mine. Take me back to the place I was a fool to leave.

But… I always do what I shouldn’t do. And I always mess things up.

I shouldn’t turn around when I hear the high-pitch squeal of my name. I shouldn’t turn around. But I do.

“Crutch!”

I barely have time to process the little fireball of energy in a tight halter top, leather leggings, and a tiara that says ‘Happy Birthday’. And I definitely don’t have time to react before she jumps up, wrapping her arms around my neck. It throws me off balance so I’m completely unprepared for when she crashes her lips to mine, forcing her tongue into my mouth.

So much for avoiding drama with Lulu sitting right here.

I force my beer bottle into Holt’s side and he quickly grabs it. With gentle force, I pull Brittany off my body, peeling her away like a sticker.

“What the hell, Brittany?”

She jumps up and down and points to the plastic tiara on her brown hair. “It’s my birthday!” A gaggle of girls surrounding her whoop and holler. “The girls asked me what I wanted for my birthday, and I said another night with you! I remembered you said you liked coming to this bar. I can’t believe you’re actually here. We just took a shot in the dark that you’d be here.” She lowers her voice to an exaggerated whisper and leans close, breathing her vodka breath on me. “You know a lot of college kids don’t like to come here because there’s always cops around.”

I drag my hand across my jaw, scratching my stubble. So much for having a buzz.

I steal a glance at Lulu. Her mouth gapes open in shock. Brittany’s little scene has stolen the vocabulary right from My Lulu’s brain.

Brittany leans forward, grabbing the sides of my hoodie. “Kiss the birthday girl. You know you want to.”

I untangle myself from her again. “Brittany, I think you’ve had too much to drink. How about we get you a water?”

She shoos her friends away and they file to the other end of the bar, shouting drink orders at Cullen. “No water for me. I was sober as a judge when we got together last time.” She winks. “Don’t you wanna try me drunk? I like to experiment when I’m drunk.”

Are you kidding me? Could it get any worse? “Brittany, stop.”

“Don’t be a prude, Crutch. Experimenting is what college is for. Last time was explosive, just think about how good it could be.”

Lulu jumps down from her barstool. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so lethal. She scares the piss right out of me. She’s looking at me like I’m the scum of the earth. And I am. I am scum. She shoves her own water glass into Brittany’s hand. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” Brittany takes a sip and makes a sour face. “Water. Yuck. I thought it was something good.”

“You said college? How old are you today?” Lulu asks and I’m slowly dying inside watching this exchange.

Brittany raises her hand high in the air, dancing around on her stilettos. “Twenty-one, bitches!” Hearing her warrior cry, all of the girls scream and jump.

Kill. Me. Now.

Lulu turns, leaning so close to me that her nose nearly touches mine. She growls, “Twenty-one, bitches.” Elbowing past me, she marches across the bar, flinging open the door to the back room, hiding herself away.

Holt laughs uncontrollably. “I guess I did buy a ticket to the shit show after all.”