Page 31 of Love Me, I Dare You

“So I’ve heard,” she answers, not giving him much information, which is what he’s looking for. Monroe’s never been a fan of my father’s not only given the history between him and her father Franklin, but because she’s always felt judged by him and how reluctant he was to her being my friend. Yet she seems to really care what my mother thinks of her.

My father continues to pry, though his motives are unreadable. “I assume Nash is staying out there with your father as well?” He asks, cleverly disguising his interest in Nash’s whereabouts.

“It seems so,” she says, not telling my dad the truth about Nash staying with me or the fact her father isn’t even in Crossroads.

I remember Nash’s brief conversation about his dad staying in a recovery center down in Rivers Bend, and wonder if Moe even knows about it since she hasn’t mentioned it to us. Unlike Nash, who seems so nonchalant about his father's fate, I know Monroe wouldn’t be able to move on so quickly. Regardless of how much she hates Franklin Bishop.

“Well, if they need anything, you let them know to come and ask me. Franklin and I might not have the best relationship, but my heart lies in this town and everyone and everything in it. Especially since I hear he isn’t doing too well nowadays.”

Of course, the entire town heard about the heart attack last week, something Monroe tries her best to not talk about because it brings up some really unwanted emotions. She’s a girl who’s dealt with so much grief it really pains me to see how her bad luck just continues to cause her trouble.

Not that a baby is anything but a blessing, but being a single mother, not to mention how badly her brothers will probably react to the news of their baby sister not being a virginal little angel, it’s too much to have to pull through on your own. But Billie and I won’t be letting her go through any of it alone.

“Of course, Mayor King. I’ll pass on the message. I’m sure Monty would appreciate it.” Yeah, Monty might, but Nash definitely won’t want anything to do with my father.

My dad may not have had much say in Jase’s friendship with Nash, since my brother has always had a mind of his own and went against everything my father wanted of him, but he spent any chance he could bad-mouthing the Bishop name and reminding us we should never trust them. We used to continuously ask what happened between the two families that caused such a rivalry between them, but we were always given the same response.

A good family is one who looks out not only for itself but for its neighbors. The Bishops do neither of those things.

We all knew it was much more complicated than that, but it came to a point where we stopped asking why and took his word for it. Though after Nash and Jase’s friendship ended, and mine began with Monroe, I learned to keep our friendship our own, and not subject her to the judgment Nash used to undergo any time spent at my parent’s house.

“And you, little lady,” he says, directing his attention back to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Come to the house more often. Your mama misses you, and tell that sister of yours too. She may live in my house, but the girl is never home.”

“Yes, daddy.” I laugh as he walks away, immediately ambushed by the woman organizing the Harvest Festival.

“You know,” Billie says, looking over at me. “The longer I know your father, the more he scares me.”

“Back to my idiot brother. Bailey, are you sure you’re okay with this? Just a few days ago we were sitting on your couch bawling our eyes out and devouring gallons of ice cream like it was our job. Now he’s going to be living with you?” Monroe seems genuinely concerned, and rightfully so. Because no, I’m not okay with this, but I also can’t get myself to absolutely hate it.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Not by choice, Monroe. You know I can’t see someone in need and do nothing about it. No matter how much of an asshole they are.” It’s always been my downfall. The need to not only make people happy, but the inability to say no.

Monroe’s nose scrunches as she thinks, not content with the answer I’ve given her. I can tell she feels like this is her fault for refusing to let him stay back at the house with her and Monty.

“Then we can switch. I’ll come stay with you and Nash can stay at the house with Monty. I told Monty I wouldn’t leave, or live with him, but this was before I realized they’d make him move in with you.”

“It makes no sense, Moe, for you to live with me yet go to work back at your house. It’ll be fine. We’ll barely even see each other.”

That was a lie, but I can’t outright tell Monroe her brother was naked in my room this morning, wearing only a small towel after getting out of my shower. A towel which did absolutely nothing to cover the impressive figure he’s developed in the last decade. A figure that left me ridiculously aroused even more so when I stepped into the shower that still smelled too much like him.

My poor friend has had a rough couple of days. Between finding out about her pregnancy, to feeling sick all the time, to now crying over her brother being back. The bags under her eyes have seen better days, but here she is, still worrying about me after all that troubles her.

Monroe sighs, worry etched on the corners of her eyes. “I just hate the idea of you having to deal with him in your home after what he did to you.”

Her feelings are justified. Monroe saw me at my worst. When we both grieved losing Nash in different ways. She and Billie had to physically pull me out of bed on multiple occasions. They saw me break down and cry, and had to save me from one too many toxic relationships with other men because none of them were him and I was trying so hard to fill the void he left.

How would I ever trust someone again when the man I loved, and who I foolishly thought loved me back, left me once he got what he wanted?The damage he did to my future relationships and fear of commitment and trust these past few years as I tried my best to move on was irreparable.

But maybe this was a sign. The universe was telling me to move forward by placing my past right in front of me. A wise woman once said, looking backwards is the only way to move forward. Maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do.

“It’s been ten years,” I say, the realization of what I need to do hitting me all at once. “Maybe I ought to put it past me. What good does hating a man who never promised me anything do? I’ve only been hurting myself when, by the looks of it, Nash hasn’t been at all phased by not being near me.”

“It does a hell of a lot of good for the soul. I thrive off the people I hate,” Billie jokes, as always covering her pain with sarcasm and wit.

Monroe scoffs at our not so wise friend. “Yeah, like how much your soul gets fed by your constant bickering with every man in Crossroads.”

Billie calls the server over to order another margarita. “A woman’s gotta keep her options open. Wouldn’t be fair if only one man received all my wrath.”

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