Page 21 of First Comes Revenge

My parents choose this moment to walk into the dining room. My mom is looking at Meemaw, her mother, with a tired expression. She has dealt with this for fifty years and some change, and knows there’s no taming the woman.

My mom only pauses for a moment, then she sets down the plate of ham. My parents have a thing for ham. They say it’s a shame it should only be served on Christmas and Easter, because it’s amazing. I think they go through about forty hams per year, and it would be more if my dad had his way. He’s an absolute ham fiend.

Dad pats my shoulder and leans in. “You okay, kid?”

“Yes, Dad,” I say. He’s already asked me several times tonight if I’m okay. I know he’s just trying to be supportive, but I also don’t know what he expects me to say. The truth is I don’t want to go into details about just how messy this breakup became with anyone but Dani. I definitely don’t want to tell Troy, because he’ll track Vaughn down and kick his ass if he finds out.

My dad sits at the head of the table and straightens his collar. He’s wearing his usual sweater over a button-down shirt. His hair is gelled nerdily in a side part and he has his thick glasses on. On weekends, Dad is the dungeon master for a Dungeons and Dragons group. They collect in the basement for hours while mom has fun testing out new recipes and snacks on the group.

Mom was a gymnast and a dancer in her youth, and absolutely the last kind of woman I would have pictured landing with a nerd like dad. But she was just getting out of a bad breakup with some jock asshole and Dad was her tutor. He won her over and they never looked back.

Mom sits down beside dad. She has her brown hair curled and her makeup done to perfection, as usual. “Well?” she says. “Where’s Troy?”

“Coming,” a deep voice says. My brother lumbers into the room. He’s well over six feet and probably close to two hundred and fifty pounds. He has big, muscular shoulders and a power belly. He keeps his beard well groomed, but it’s puffy and frames his rounded face. Troy is the kind of man people steer clear of, and probably for good reason. He’s about as scary as he looks if you’re not part of his family.

He’s already chewing on something. My sisters are usually in the kitchen to help prep dinner. Troy’s usually in there to snack on food before it reaches the table. Sure enough, I notice there are already a few slices missing from the ham and a big scoop out of the mashed potatoes.

Meemaw clears her throat and waits until everybody stops what they’re doing to look up at her. “So,” she says loudly. “Charli has moved on quickly. She’s got some new stud asking how big her boobies are. We’re less than a week from the breakup and dick is back on the menu! Let’s celebrate!”

There’s a clatter of silverware and a screech as my dad’s knife slides on the plate.So much for keeping things quiet.

10

JAMESON

Iusually enjoy work, but this whole week has been torture. Every day is another disaster and every night is a long stay in the office, putting out fires. Usually, I’m the one starting fires and Nolan is the one putting them out.

It’s well past dinner time. I worked late again and I should probably go straight home to sleep. My body is practically screaming for it. But listening to your body is a great way to become weak, or so I’ve been told. Actually, maybe I just read that on a fortune cookie. But I know wisdom when I hear it, so I pull out my phone instead of heading back to my place for some rest.

It’s Monday night and I haven’t seen Charli for almost a full week. We have one more week until the Halloween mixer, and I’ve decided we need to practice pretending before then. I’ve also been thinking about her in every spare moment. Despite what she probably thinks, I’ve been trying very hard to respect her boundaries. She did really get fucked over by Vaughn, and I can imagine amazing rebound sex with more orgasms than she can count is low on her priority list.

So I’ve controlled myself. I’ve limited myself to only text based communication for seven days. Seven fucking days of self control. I haven’t even asked for a nude photo. If they gave out medals for this kind of thing, I’d be dripping in cheap plastic by now.

It’s time to escalate things a bit. Sure, I want to respect her boundaries and all that, but I also want to let her know my gates are wide open. Maybe she already knows, but it won’t hurt to remind her. Andfuck, I just want to see her. I want a chance to put my hands on her, even if it’s just a light press of my fingertips on the small of her back. I’m craving her and a little phone call is the least I can do for myself.

I stop on a bench and pull up her number while busy New Yorkers pass by on the street. Distractedly, I wonder what has people so busy and in such a rush so late. Maybe they’re on the way to dates, rushing back home to capture what’s left of their night, or maybe they’re just so used to rushing from place to place they’ve forgotten to take it slow when they can.

I know as well as they do how easy it is to get wrapped up in things to do and places to be. I know how easy it is to focus on your goals so hard that you look up one day and realize years have passed by. Maybe that’s why Charli has my attention so firmly. I’ve had my eyes down and focused on putting one foot in front of the other for a long time now. She’s the first thing that has made me look up and smell the roses around me.

I’m enjoying it, too.

I call Charli. My leg bounces while it rings because I’m not sure what I’ll do if she doesn’t pick up. I’d probably dig up her address off the internet and show up at her door.

Relief floods me when she answers.

“What is it?” she asks.

I would’ve preferred it if she purred my name in a sultry voice and told me she was just thinking about me. I’ll take what I can get, though. “Are you free tonight?”

“What?”

“You and me. A date. What do you think?”

There’s a long pause, and I’m starting to believe she might just end the call on me. “Jameson, I told you I’m not ready for anything like that yet. I’m still trying to heal.”

“That’s why this will be a practice run. In a week, we’re going to do our big performance at the mixer. Do you really want to risk screwing that up in front of Vaughn and his new woman? Think about it. We hang out tonight, get the kinks out, practice pretending we like each other, andboom.”

“You have to pretend to like me?” she asks. I love that playful streak of hers. I imagine if I’d caught her at a different point of her life, it would be far more prominent, too. Maybe that’s part of what draws me to her. It feels like the real Charli McBride is currently buried under a metric ton of bad luck and sadness. I want to start lifting that shit off her and chucking it out of the way. I want to uncover the girl beneath it all. And hey, it’s not as if I’m selfishly trying to rescue her. Maybe I just want to set her free once I’ve done my good deeds. Probably not, but maybe.

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