Page 18 of The Start of Someday

When Rusty and I were in college, he bailed me out of a pretty shit situation that pretty much solidified our friendship.

We were freshman roommates and had grown to be pretty close friends when I decided to join a fraternity. Pledging takes up a shit ton of time, and it didn’t take long for my social life to get booked up by my new brothers. Then I moved into the house sophomore year instead of getting an apartment with Rusty, like we’d talked about doing. Life went on for both of us, and it felt like we grew apart.

Halfway through the semester, in an incredibly stupid moment, I took some pills given to me by a fraternity brother at a party and ended up in the hospital. My so-called brothers didn’t want to come get me because of the risk of getting into trouble or getting pinned as the person who gave me the drugs.

It was Rusty who came to pick me up. He walked in and talked to the doctor, made sure to get a full rundown of my health and anything I needed to do when I got home. Then he told me to come stay on his couch for a few days until I was feeling back to rights.

He’s just always been that guy. The protector. The father figure, even though we’re the same age. I’ve never been that close with my parents, so Rusty’s care and concern, the way he looked out for me…it’s always stuck with me.

Which is why it was totally unsurprising that he withdrew from school during the first week of his senior year to move home and take care of his sister. His parents were killed in a drunk driving accident, and at barely twenty-two, in the midst of his own grief, he became Abby’s guardian. Left his entire life and future behind, dropped it all like a sack of bricks to be there for her.

I’ve always wished there had been something I could have done back then, some way I could have been helpful and supportive. But when you’re just a college kid, and a friend is dealing with a tragedy like the one he and Abby were facing, it feels like there’s absolutely nothing in the world you can do to make any difference.

Now that Rusty and I are a lot older—thirty-one and thirty-two, respectively—I feel like this brewery pub is a way for me to finally be able to support my friend. A way for me to repay him for the times when he’s sacrificed for the people he cares about. Though he would kill me if he ever heard something like that come out of my mouth.

He has a pretty fantastic vision for his company, Cedar Cider, which currently operates as bottled beer that gets shipped out to retailers. In a small town like Cedar Point, which has so few options for drinks and dining, there is absolutely enough demand to open up an establishment like the one he is hoping to get going this year.

All he needs is some additional investment.

Apparently, a friend he grew up with here in town is one of the other investors, but he just wants to provide the financial capital and not be involved in the decision-making because he lives on the other side of the country.

I’m more of a hands-on kind of investor, which is the reason I’m here in town in the first place—to help Rusty scout locations, build up an operational business plan, and talk through some of the more important details. We might have both wanted to get our degree in business back in the day, but I was the one out of the two of us who was able to go on and finish.

Now I’m here to help, however I can.

If that includes staying away from his sister…I guess that’s just how it is.

Last night was brutal, sitting across from Rusty and Abby as they fought, then having my friend’s frustration turned and directed toward me.

I’m pretty sure I upset Abby by being so forthcoming with her brother, but it’s important to me to be honest with him. I know, in some ways, he looks up to me, but there are plenty of ways that I look up to him. The last thing I want to do is let him down or make him think that I don’t value our friendship.

Which is why I agreed to pretend my night—and the following day—with Abby never happened.

Even if actually forgetting about it is less likely than a fucking snowstorm in hell.

Maybe, maybe I would have been able to push things aside after our night in my hotel room, but after the sex in her bedroom? The way she sat astride me and whispered dirty things in my ear?

Fuck.

I might not jump into bed with as many women as I used to back in my college days, but I have racked up quite a few notches on my bedpost. Even so, yesterday afternoon in the bright light of day with Abby might have been the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.

So, yeah…I can pretend to forget what it felt like to have her wet pussy around my dick, but hell if I’m actually going to.

Even now, as Rusty and I wander through an old barn south of Main Street—our third stop of the day—I’m having a hard time getting her out of my thoughts. I lay in bed last night and jerked off to the memory of her whispering in my ear about sitting on my lap. How deep you’d be able to go like this, she said. I came faster than when I was a damn teenager.

Then this morning, when I went down to the living room for a bowl of cereal and found Abby sitting at the counter in her pajamas, I was more than a little irritated by the fact that I was turned on by the sight of her in a pair of sleep shorts and her feet in those fuzzy socks girls like to wear during the winter.

I had to retreat back upstairs to take a shower. A cold one.

I think it’s safe to say that, as good as my intentions are when it comes to Rusty, I highly doubt his sister will be leaving my fantasies anytime soon.

“I think this is the one.”

Spinning on my heel, I turn back to look at my friend, and I can’t help but smile at the look on his face.

Rusty’s never been a particularly boisterous kind of guy. Yes, he’s friendly, and yes, the ladies would say he’s charming—a trait he’s able to pull out when it suits him. But he’s actually more of a surly, quiet bear, which is why it’s always interesting to see what will make him look like he does now.

Eyes bright with a small smile.

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