My friends look from me to the car to each other, then back at me.
“I’m not accepting it,” I explain. When they exchange looks again, I add, “Let’s not talk about it.”
They know I’ve decided that I can’t be with the twins again, and they’re supportive as always, but an odd silence seems to hang in the air as we go inside.
I’m already in an off mood, and looking through my closet, seeing outfits that I bought when I was with Jason, dresses I wore on dates with him, just makes me feel worse.
Though I tried my best not to think about him today, Jason being in town reminded me of how I wasn’t enough for him. I thought I was all he needed, but he demonstrated in the most graphic way possible that I wasn’t.
What happens if I’m not enough for someone else? What if I make more bad decisions, like I did with him? And even though I’ll treasure my memories of the twins forever, getting together with them was arguably not the best decision I’ve ever made.
My friends are sitting on my bed and they can’t help but notice my posture slumping as I stand looking at my clothing, not really seeing anything.
“What’s wrong, Meg?” Tara comes over and puts a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“I don’t know,” I say. It’s all too much to put into words.
“Rough day? she says. Though none of us mentioned Jason’s name all day, his presence hung in the air.
“It’s time for a fresh start,” Zoe says, joining us at the closet. She starts flipping through outfits, and finds the purple dress she bought for me last week.
“That? Tonight?” I say, remembering how unexpectedly sexy it looks on me.
“Why not?”
When we shopped for the dress, my friends pictured me wearing it for Brock and Cody, but tonight I’d be wearing it for myself. I admit that I could use the ego boost the dress will bring. Maybe the bold color will also help me to be strong in the presence of the Beast Brothers.
If they flirt with me, I need to resist. I have to tell them we can’t be together again. And when they move on, I’ll need to pretend I don’t care. I’m not sure which will be harder.
Right to the Bone
Megan
An hour later, the three of us are riding the elevator up to the restaurant in the tallest building downtown. My friends look fabulous — Tara in a little black dress and Zoe in a green one that brings out her eyes.
They helped me style my hair. My curls are pulled up on the sides, and the rest falls to my shoulders and frames all the cleavage that the dress exposes. “We could go out after, to a club?” I say.
“I have to be at work early tomorrow, but I can manage a few hours,” Tara says.
“We all look too good to keep it to ourselves,” Zoe agrees.
Even though my besties didn’t argue with my decision to break things off with the twins, I have the impression Zoe doesn’t completely agree. Still, she’ll probably be trying to fix me up with someone new before the night is over.
I’m not ready for that, but I could definitely use a night out dancing with my friends.
I see a few other Leopards players as the maître d' shows us to our table. The restaurant is the best in town, and apparently a popular spot for post-game dinners. I also see a few other guys I vaguely recognize from the Mammoths, and I hope like hell that Jason isn’t here.
My nerves pick up as we approach our table. Dad and Vivian are already there, and so are Brock and Cody. Damn! They look so good. They always look good, and it was painful watching them play today, but now I’m just a few feet away from them and they’re all cleaned up, carefully groomed, and wearing dark suits and ties that only emphasize the fact that they’re the best-looking men I’ve ever seen.
Zoe is in front of me and Tara behind me, but Brock and Cody’s eyes are only on me. One look at them, and I know I’m facing an uphill job. Their eyes are full of heat — and steely determination.
Maybe this dress wasn’t the best idea. I don’t want to tease them. I don’t want them to think I’m dressing up for them, and then refusing to be with them.
Reality check. Who am I kidding? They could have a line of women at their door anytime they want. Maybe the dress is cutting off circulation to my brain.
My dad and my stepbrothers-to-be all rise as we approach the table. Cody steps forward, gives brief hugs to Tara and Zoe, and then turns to me, that lustful gleam still in his eyes. His embrace is brief, nothing to attract suspicion, but he voices two small words in a husky whisper at my ear. “That dress.”
Two little words, and I instantly have a vision of him peeling this dress off of me, of my breasts spilling out for him, of his mouth … oh god, this dinner is going to be so much harder than I imagined.
Brock manages to deliver a subtle yet inappropriate squeeze when he greets me. “Bootylicious,” he whispers in my ear, and all my inner muscles tighten.
He’s right that we need to talk, but it isn’t going to go the way they expect. I need to tell them we can’t be together, and I need them to stop tormenting me. Thanks to our parents, we’ll have to be around each other for years to come, and that won’t be possible if they don’t behave.
As if being near them isn’t hard enough, I somehow end up seated right between Brock and Cody. My besties try to intervene, but the twins aren’t having it.
From where I sit, I can smell their clean, deliciously manly scents. Their suit jacket sleeves brush against my arms every time they move, and I can feel the heat radiating from their bodies. And though they keep their hands above the table, their feet tangle with mine, pulling my legs apart. I’m getting wet for them, despite my best efforts to remain unaffected.
Tara and Zoe give me looks from across the table. I can’t quite read their expressions — Sympathy? Support? Maybe with a little friendly jealousy mixed in from Zoe?
Then I see Tara’s eyes widen at the same time I hear a familiar voice behind me. “Megan, I need to talk to you.”
The voice of my asshole ex cuts right to the bone.
I turn in my seat and see him. He’s alone, just a few steps away and coming closer.
“Why haven’t you been answering my calls?” he says. He doesn’t sound as bad as he did during his drunken phone calls, but neither does he sound completely sober.
Speechless, I look Jason over and realize I don’t feel one bit of sadness or regret. Only anger and dread.
He reaches me and puts a
hand on my shoulder, but Brock knocks it away before I even have a chance to register what’s happening.
Braver than I’d have given him credit for — or maybe just stupider — Jason ignores Brock and tries again to reach for me. “Megan, I need to talk to you. In private.”
“I’m not interested, Jason. Go away,” I tell him. I try to turn in my chair to face him, but I don’t have much room to move.
“No, you’re going to talk to me,” Jason persists. He yanks at my arm, and Brock and Cody are both up and in his face in an instant.
Get Me Out of Here
Megan
Vivian gasps, and I notice that my dad is on his feet too, but Brock and Cody have effectively formed a wall between Jason and the rest of us. I can’t see him at all; I can only hear his voice, which grates on me and fills me with disgust.
“Are you with these two now, Megan? Is that why you left?” Jason says loudly.
I can’t see beyond the twins, but from what I can see, everyone in the restaurant is looking at us. At first I’m completely startled that Jason seems to know that I’ve been with Brock and Cody — I’m at a family dinner, not eating with just the two of them. Why would he jump to that conclusion? How would he know?
And then I remember the late night phone call. The one that Brock answered and then crudely told Jason that he was fucking me. Oh god. It seemed so funny at the time, such beautiful payback, and now it’s come back to haunt me.
It also startles me that Jason is including both of the brothers in his accusations. He’s probably heard stories, though. Not about me, but about other wild exploits Brock and Cody have had.
“Did you leave me for these guys!?” he persists.
I see movement and hear struggle, and then Brock and Cody start to move away from the table, each of them holding one of Jason’s arms. He’s so outmatched, it isn’t even funny. Each of the twins could restrain Jason with just one of their arms.