EDGES Page 5

  “What the hell was that?” she asked, putting slight distance between her body and his.

  “It’s my house and I want to play with you.”

  “You didn’t have to push him.”

  He finally broke his forward gaze to stare down at her in the harshest way he could muster. The game continued, Josh now her teammate. There were hardly any words spoken around the table and the girls standing around were giving each other tense looks. George stayed leaned up against the wall in the corner, looking genuinely offended. Between the two of them, Josh and Simone missed eight throws in a row to lose the game.

  George gave a chuckle when it was over. “You messed with our mojo, Josh. It’s better not to interfere with a good thing sometimes.”

  Josh pivoted abruptly and stood face to face with George. George wasted only a second matching his intense gaze before walking away.

  When Josh swung back toward the table, Simone had hurried across the room to the front door and was rushing outside, upset. The couple they played against didn’t want to play another and Josh was left there with the crowd casting ugly stares on him.

  His whole body rapidly tensed up with anxiety. This isn’t me.

  He immediately proceeded to the counter. He poured two tall shots of Crown and carried them over to George, who was now checking his phone on the couch.

  Josh sat down and handed one to him. “I’m sorry.”

  George took it from him and seemed to brighten. “It’s no problem.”

  “I have this jealousy streak going on. Simone does it to me, I guess.”

  He laughed. “You’re not the only one. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had guys come after me over her, but we’re really just friends. That’s the truth.”

  Josh slumped, feeling even worse now.

  “Look,” George said, “I’ll back off if you want me to. I understand.”

  “What do you mean?” Josh asked, and then took his shot.

  George threw back his as well, and smiled faintly as the liquor went down. “I mean, if you want to try and hook up with her. I won’t get in your way.”

  “I’m already hooking up with her. There’s no try.”

  “Oh…”

  Josh laughed in surprise. “You didn’t know?”

  “I knew something had happened between you two. I didn’t know it was an active thing.”

  “Well, it is.”

  “Patrick said you guys were just friends. So I—”

  He gave George’s thigh a half-aggressive slap, like a father would do when teaching his son a lesson. “You’ll just have to learn that not everything Patrick says is gospel, or even true for that matter. Now you know.”

  Josh turned away to hide his anger. Why would Patrick say that? Just to egg George on? Probably, knowing the bastard. Maybe Patrick had done it as a test, to see how Josh would react with a little bit of pressure.

  George and he talked for a while, mostly about Tiffany and Simone and what they’d been like in high school. The more they talked, the more Josh’s hate for George faded away. In fact, he found that the two of them weren’t that dissimilar.

  George nodded toward the door. “She’s been out there a while.”

  Josh nodded and got up. “I’ll check on her.” He began for the door, but turned back. “Again, sorry about all that.” George gave a reassuring nod that made Josh’s nerves ease a bit. Josh drew open the door and Patrick and Simone were there, holding hands and standing far too close for his liking.

  For a sliver of a moment, Josh wondered if Simone and Patrick had planned the whole thing, a practical joke, pitting George against him. Then he realized how drunk he was, and that he’d already embarrassed himself once by letting paranoia get to him.

  Simone ignored him on her way back inside. She was drunk and laughing. Patrick had that look on his face, one like he half pitied Josh on some level, and half like he knew something that Josh didn’t.

  Josh felt his fingers coil into a hard fist. An otherworldly urge came over him to drive that fist right into Patrick’s nose, just fucking level him. But he didn’t. He simply shut the door after Patrick said he was waiting for Tiffany. Minutes later, he felt foolish for even thinking of hitting Patrick. Without Patrick, he wouldn’t have even known Simone, let alone had a chance of getting with her. He was his best friend, for chrissakes.

  Feeling tired and drunk, Josh went to his room where there was only a black light on, painting it a soft purple. He eased down on the edge of his bed and rubbed his hands over his face. An intense range of emotions bounced around inside him. He felt the urge to cry, then the urge to heave his desk chair through the wall. He felt alone, hearing the voices of happy people on the other side of his bedroom wall.

  The door opened, the noise filtered in, and there was Simone standing at the doorway.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Just taking a breather.”

  She shut the door and locked it. “You weren’t about to masturbate were you?”

  He laughed.

  “Ewww, I knew it,” she teased.

  And somehow, just like that she scooped him up out of that feeling of awfulness that he’d been stuck in. He found himself laughing with her.

  She plopped down next to him, and ran her hand up the inside of his leg. “I’m glad I came in then. That would’ve been a waste.”

  “Are you sure you want me and not George?” He instantly regretted saying it.

  “Sheesh,” is all she said before falling back onto the bed, stretching out her arms.

  He fell back slowly to match her, and grabbed her hand and kissed it. “Sorry about that. Having a friend like Patrick has just trained me to be paranoid, I guess.”

  She sat up abruptly, looking alarmed all of a sudden. “What? What do you mean?”

  “I just mean,” Josh said, trying his best to explain the crypticness, “with Patrick always getting all the attention, I dunno, it makes me paranoid that once I get a good one, she’ll get stolen away.”

  “Patrick’s not snatching me away, he’s dating my best friend.”

  “I didn’t say Patrick was, I just mean, I’m paranoid because of him. I just saw you and George with his arm around you and thought…”

  “We’re friends. That’s all. He’s harmless.”

  “I don’t think he wants to be just your friend.”

  “Josh.” There was a fierce agitation growing in her tone. “Do you want to do this or not?”

  “Yeah, of course.” He shook his head, feeling like he was in a slow-motion car wreck. “Sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing. It’s not attractive. Just kiss me and shut up.”

  “Okay.”

  He kissed her and was thankful he didn’t have to say anything else. Slowly they took each other’s clothes off. He ran his hands over her body and she kept putting her hands on top of his, telling him to squeeze harder. So he did. Once they were having sex, he watched her face through the purple tint of the black light. The whole time she kept her eyes closed.

  Mallory

  THE BELLS ON THE STOREFRONT door jingled as Mallory snuck out of work fifteen minutes early so she could pick up two bottles of red wine at the store. She and Teddy were having friends over for dinner for the first time in months, and Mallory was almost giddy in the way she hurried out onto the sidewalk of Main toward her car, never so enthusiastic for a simple dinner with friends. All she could think about was laughing and drinking wine into the late hours.

  Evenings like these were rare. Usually, on her normal drive home from work every day, there was a steady and pernicious feeling building up inside her: a feeling that something had gone wrong over the last seven months with Teddy, about two months after the proposal, about four months after she’d moved in. They rarely talked anymore when they got home from work. She often made cocktails for them and put on music, but it was like Teddy was only humoring her. He would take barely a sip, and spend only a handful of minutes listening to how her day
went before he would slip off upstairs or into the garage.

  She couldn’t understand what she was doing wrong, but it felt like he was perpetually annoyed with her somehow. When Mallory stood naked before the mirror, she wondered why whole stretches of days would pass where he wouldn’t fuck her. Even with a critical eye, she still couldn’t help but feel desirable—only twenty-five, cute and in as good a shape as the day she graduated high school.

  As she went into the liquor store and gazed at the vast selection of reds before her, she hoped tonight Teddy would be the talkative, jovial, care-free guy that he’d been when she fell in love, if only for a couple of hours.

  Mallory looked at a dozen or so different bottles. She picked up a spicy Malbec, swept back a lock of her curly hair and admired the funny picture of a monkey on the bottle. She then found a Super-Tuscan that promised to be lively on the palate. When it was all said and done, she ended up buying a few more bottles than she’d had in mind at the start. At the checkout, her eyes focused on the total glowing in green above the register, guilty for purchasing the extra bottles.

  Many times, after dinner, when Teddy went to the TV room, Mallory would sneak to the cupboard and from behind a large gallon jug of vinegar she would withdraw one of her hidden bottles of wine. During the rough patches they’d had, she hid pints of vodka there. She wouldn’t chug the whole thing. Just a third or maybe half, enough to feel at ease. Enough to free her mind.

  On days she had off and Teddy was at work, when there wasn’t cleaning to be done or she didn’t fancy wine, she sometimes hopped onto the computer. One day she had stumbled onto an adult site that Teddy must’ve been browsing. She was offended at first, but then found herself checking out some of the videos. Now she was too embarrassed to tell anyone that she had developed a small affinity for it, but there was no reason to tell Teddy what she did.

  She put two bottles in the backseat, leaving them in the liquor store bag. The other three she set in the trunk under some towels.

  It was rare that she and Teddy could actually match their schedules and carpool, but Mallory had requested an adjusted shift today so she could pick Teddy up and get home to start cooking. Most of the time when they did carpool, she had over an hour of time to wait until he got off. She usually read a book or walked around downtown.

  Mallory parked and went inside Teddy’s office, which wasn’t more than two minutes from the liquor store. There was a familiar face to greet her as she came in. It was Patrick, the guy from the accident. It had almost slipped her mind that he worked with Teddy.

  He was typing at a computer, gazing intently at the screen with his brown eyes, that, frankly, Mallory found to be absorbing, hypnotizing almost. He was dressed in a sharp white button-down shirt and his dark hair looked sexy when combed all professional, matching the well-kept stubble on his cheeks.

  He noticed her after a moment, rolled away from his computer, and gave a big smile. “You remember me.”

  “Of course I remember you.” She felt her cheeks burn a little, feeling suddenly helpless to his smile.

  “Are we in the clear then on that accident?”

  She nodded. “I haven’t heard anything. Teddy popped out my hood, and we got the windshield fixed.”

  “That’s great.”

  “It is,” she said, smiling at him. “And I should say thank you again for what you did.”

  Patrick leaned forward in his chair and put a hand over his heart in the most charming way possible. He spoke in a whisper. “Our secret, okay?” And gave her a wink.

  Mallory let out an excited laugh, but she quickly shut her mouth, realizing that she sounded utterly silly giggling like a teenager. “I know,” she said, more seriously. “I’m a terrible liar. Court would’ve been a mess.”

  He seemed to ponder that. “So, what did you tell Teddy?”

  Mallory glanced to her left, down the hall into the depth of the offices, wondering if Teddy was in earshot.

  Patrick waved his hand. “He’s not here yet. It’s just you and me.”

  She laughed, a little embarrassed. “I just told him the same story as what the police report said. I thought it would be easier.”

  Patrick gave her an assuring nod.

  Mallory blushed, realizing she was contradicting herself.

  “Hey, don’t worry,” he said. “We all do it. I know what you mean, it’s just easier sometimes. Look on the bright side, at least you and I know what really happened.”

  “Are you the secretive type, Patrick?” She couldn’t pinpoint why, but she felt herself wanting to get swept away in a conversation with him.

  Patrick seemed pleased that she’d asked such a pointed question and gave a rolling tap of his fingers on the desk, let his eyes dart away for a quick instant, and then released a shy laugh. “I would tell you I’m not, but I lied to police, so who’s to say you should believe me?”

  “Oooo,” she said, teasing him. “So mysterious. C’mon, you seem like a nice enough guy.”

  “I’m very friendly when I want to be.”

  They were stuck smiling at each other, and when Patrick’s eyes didn’t leave her for even a moment, she felt herself heating up under his gaze.

  Patrick picked up a pen and pointed it at her. “Do you always dress that way for work?”

  She looked down at her clothes, confused as to the meaning of his comment. “Uh.” She laughed. “Actually, most days, no.”

  “Just roll out of bed, typically?”

  She laughed, pretending to be insulted. “No.”

  He laughed with her, and looked over her slowly one more time. “Well, I must say, and I mean this in the most professional way possible… you look lovely. Teddy’s lucky. I don’t know if I’d ever get anything done if I had someone like you to come home to.”

  A beat of tense silence passed. The pleasant kind of tense.

  Patrick spoke up first, and finally looked away to glance at the time on his monitor. “Teddy should be back any minute. You two must have a big date tonight?”

  “A double date, yes. Friends coming over to our house for dinner.”

  “Sounds fun. Partaking in some wine?”

  The edges of her mouth turned down, wondering why he would guess that.

  “Teddy, he mentioned you really like wine.”

  She felt her stomach tighten. Had Teddy found the bottles behind the vinegar? No, not possible. Was she just being paranoid? “I’m not a big drinker.”

  “Why not?” Patrick replied. “It’s fun. Especially wine.” He reached down at his feet, lifted an aluminum water bottle and jiggled it. “You want some?” He held it out expectantly, and then started laughing. “I’m kidding. Totally kidding. But I do love relaxing with a good bottle and just staying in some nights. In this town there’s only so much monkey business you can get into before you’ve seen it all.”

  Mallory’s eyes moved over his face. She found it surprising someone his age would even like wine at all. “How old are you?”

  “I think I know why you’re asking me that,” he said.

  She laughed.

  “I’m twenty-one,” he said, seeming serious.

  Mallory found herself staring at him. There was a wickedness that came through in the curl of his smile. It made her intensely curious of what he had to be so cocky about. “What would you know about wine then?”

  “I grew up on a vineyard until I was eleven, so I guess it’s part of my make-up.”

  “Wow, that’s cool.”

  “Ah,” he said, and drew his eyes down, abashed. “My parents owned a shitty little vineyard in Arizona before they moved to Denver. I’m embarrassed to say that I mostly just pick out whichever bottle has the coolest label.”

  She laughed. “Me too!”

  “I knew it!”

  They laughed together for a moment, then Patrick surprised her by pointing to her hand. “May I see your ring?”

  She stepped toward the desk and held out her hand. He curled his fingers underneath her p
alm and pressed his thumb gently into the top of her hand. He pulled it closer toward him and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss it.

  Mallory, you need to stop this.

  She realized they were practically flirting like they were on a date, and it was reaching a level of inappropriateness. But there was something about this guy that fascinated her. She hadn’t gotten this much excitement from a conversation in weeks.

  Patrick let go and pointed at a chair up against the window. “You should have a seat. I thought Teddy would be back by now, but I’ll keep you company while you wait for your fiancé, unless you would rather not hang out with someone so young.”

  She laughed. “I didn’t mean to imply that when I asked how old you were,” she said. Instead of sitting in the chair against the window, she dragged it closer to the desk, so she could sit eye to eye across from him.

  “What did you mean to imply?” he asked.

  “Just that you should go after girls your own age.” She took a risk in saying it aloud, but she felt she needed to say it.

  “You’re right, I probably should.” He beamed that smiled again, and he delivered a look that said: but I’m not going to.

  Mallory sat down, crossed her legs, and held her hand up to her mouth to cover her flirty laugh.

  “You still look young,” he said.

  “Well thanks,” she said sarcastically. “I should hope so.”

  “When I met you at the accident, you looked,” he paused, “different.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You looked older somehow. You looked so stressed, which is understandable. But maybe it was something else, like life had left you… I dunno, unfulfilled maybe.”

  “Unfulfilled?” The shock zipped through her. Is that how she looked? What did that even mean?

  “Sorry. I just mean, you know what—never mind. I shouldn’t be saying stuff like that.”

  “No,” she insisted. “What were you going to say?”

  He took a deep breath. “What I meant was, the other day, at the accident, you looked all stressed and bogged down, and not because you almost killed that guy. And today you look like you have a sparkle in your eye. Not in a corny way, but like there’s something you’re looking forward too. It’s beautiful. You should have that every day.”