Warnings and Wildfires

“Whoa.” Jake jabs his elbow in my side. “Is that Amy heading to the ladies’ room?”

“Don’t try to distract—” I start to say, but stop short when I spot Amy and realize, it’s not an ill-timed joke from my brother. “Aw, fuck.”

Liam and Keegan both laugh.

“Better go diffuse that,” Jake suggests.

“You really think she’d say something to Aubrey?”

“She didn’t seem too fond of you last time,” Liam reminds me.

Bree scowls and stabs her fork into her salad without a word.

The whole situation is awkward. Nobody else offers any other bits of advice. I stalk through the bar, but by the time I make it down the hallway, there’s no sign of either of them.

This isn’t a big deal, right? Amy has no reason to talk to Aubrey. It’s not like Amy and I were ever in a real relationship.

Definitely don’t say that to Aubrey. It sounds awful.

The door opens and Amy steps out. Her lips curl into a smirk when she sees me.

She jerks her thumb toward the door. “Aubrey’s in there all alone if you want to give her a Wallace Wallbanger.”

I take a few steps closer. “What did you say to her?”

She touches her fingertips to her sticky, pink lips. “Who me? Not a thing.”

A bead of sweat rolls down my back and I hurry to re-tie the stupid halter-top my sister talked me into wearing. Thank God I noticed it was loose now, in the privacy of the bathroom. Flashing the entire bar would’ve been an awful way to remember my first night out with Sully.

Ugh, more sweat. The bar obviously doesn’t waste a penny pumping any cold air into their closet-sized restroom.

Finally, I secure the knot at the nape of my neck and squeeze out of the tiny stall.

And stop dead.

A girl I don’t recognize is perched on the edge of the sink, even though it looks one rusty bolt away from toppling over. Who is this chick with the skinny arms crossed over her ample chest and heavily made up eyes glaring like she’s trying to make me evaporate with the power of her mind?

“Excuse me,” I say, pushing past her. She twists her body out of my way with a huff, as if I’d told her to fuck off—which maybe I should have.

“Are you with Sully?” she asks.

Suspicious of her intentions, I answer with a careful yes.

“I’m an old friend.” She holds out her hand. “Amy.”

I hold up my wet hands as a weak apology for refusing the handshake. “Aubrey.”

Her eyes widen, and her lips flatten into a thin, angry line. “That’s a name you don’t hear often.”

I’m used to people commenting on and confusing my name—Audrey, Avery, Ashley, Abby, I’ve heard them all—but it’s never seemed to piss off anyone before. “Yeah,” I mumble, squeezing by to grab the paper towels.

She takes a step back and in the mirror I watch her gaze roam over my back, which is kind of creeping me out. “How long have you known Sully?”

“A while.” Obviously she knows Sully, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to ask for details.

Her mouth twists and her eyes narrow to slits. “So, you’re his new fuck-in-the-bar-bathroom girl? Because that was me for the last year or so. On and off.” She lovingly traces her fingers over the edge of the sink in case I can’t interpret her meaning.

Whoa. That’s way too much information for a stranger to tell me about my boyfriend. And, ewww. Yuck. I didn’t need to know that.

The thought of them together burns like acid. And let’s pretend it’s sweat stinging my eyes not tears.

Is that what Jake meant with his whole “my brother never takes girls home with him” thing? Am I supposed to feel special?

Slowly, I toss the towel in the trash and pull a comb out of my purse. “I don’t know anything about that,” I say, faking disinterest. I flick the comb through the ends of my hair, ignoring her and hoping she’ll go away.

When she doesn’t leave, I stop and stare at her. “Do you need to use the bathroom? Or did you just stop by to tell me you have carnal knowledge of my boyfriend?”

Amy jolts and her eyes widen. Maybe she doesn’t know what the word carnal means. Or maybe no one’s ever stood up to her before. Either way, I’ve put up with too many bitchy girls like her in the past to allow myself to show that I’m rattled.

She shrugs—the lamest comeback ever—and flounces out the door.

“Whatever,” I mutter shoving the comb in my purse and staring at myself in the mirror for a few beats. My stomach’s still fluttering after the confrontation. Finally, I reach for the door.

Sully’s waiting for me on the other side.

My anger and humiliation bubble up and I tamp it down. He’s a grown man. Of course he’s bound to have an ex or two running around.

Although, a warning that he used to bang one in this very bar on a regular basis, and that she might be the confrontational type, might have been a polite head’s up.

He steps forward and holds out his hand. “Everything okay?” he asks in a cautious manner. So, obviously, he suspects his psycho bang-buddy had some words for me.

“Sure, I have girls follow me into the bathroom to tell me they’ve fucked my boyfriend all the time,” I say in a low, even tone.

He closes his eyes briefly. “I’m sorry.”

“Should we ask the owner to erect a shrine in there?” I flap my hand at the bathroom door. “According to Amy, it’s sacred territory.”

This time he winces, so I guess it’s true. “I didn’t know she’d be here or that she’d say something to you.”

“Obviously.”

I will not cause a scene. I will not.

“Let’s go. My sister’s going to wonder where I am and I think we should be there as a buffer, so she doesn’t castrate your brother.”

The corners of his mouth lift in a hint of a smile. “You sure? Do you want to talk?”

“About your ex? Nope. Not even a little.” I hesitate and then ask the only question that matters. “Are you two done? I don’t know how to navigate the ‘seeing other people’ game.”

“The thing with her ended a while ago.” He takes my hands in his and stares into my eyes. “I’m not seeing anyone but you, Aubrey.”

“Good,” I whisper.

He leans down as if he’s going to kiss me.

“Still too soon,” I mumble.

He sighs and takes my hand. Together, we walk back to our table.

I stop dead a few feet away. Sully’s eyes are on me, so he doesn’t notice at first. “Are you kidding me?” I ask.

“What?” He glances at the table and groans. Wedged between Celia and Jake is a smug Amy, lapping up all the attention.

Celia glances up and smiles as we approach. “You okay, sis?” She turns to Amy. “This is Amy, she works in the store next to my salon.”

“We’ve met,” I grumble.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

My mother was adamant about raising her two rambunctious sons into good men. Not assholes like my stepfather. She had a lot of rules for us. The top three were: be honest, be considerate, and take responsibility.

Tonight, I think I’ve cocked up all three. Although this situation never occurred to me, it should have.

Aubrey hesitates to slide into the booth and I can’t really blame her. “Celia,” she says in a low voice, catching her sister’s attention. “I don’t feel well. Do you mind if we go home?”

Celia snaps into big sister mode and scoots out of the booth. “Sure, hon.”

I place my hands on Aubrey’s shoulders and lean down to speak against her ear. “Don’t go. I’ll fix this.”

She shakes her head without saying a word.

Celia opens her purse and pulls out a few dollars, but I hold out my hand to stop her.

“I’ve got this, Celia. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re leaving?” Bree asks. She nudges Liam so she can get up and give Aubrey a hug. “We’ll

catch up later this week?”

“Sure.”

Amy watches the whole scene with a triumphant smile, while Jake, helpful brother that he is, keeps trying to distract her.

I hate having Aubrey leave like this.

“Celia can stay. I’ll take you home,” I say to Aubrey.

Celia lets out a big yawn and wraps her arm around Aubrey’s shoulders. “I’m exhausted from my trip. I should probably get home anyway.”

They say goodnight to everyone. Over Aubrey’s protest, I walk them outside.

“Aubrey, can we talk?” This is not how I wanted things to work out tonight. I planned on Aubrey coming home with me again. And every night for the foreseeable future.

“I need to go,” she says. “I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of everyone. But I won’t sit there with that woman and pretend everything’s normal when I know what she’s trying to do.”

“I didn’t—”

She cuts off the lame apology I was about to give her. “I know you didn’t.” She glances down. “I’m not mad at you. I just want to go home.”