her footing.
“I mish you.” She lunged back at me again.
The strong whiff of alcohol that fanned my face and her slurred speech told me that she’d been drinking. A lot. Which meant, unless she’d built up a tolerance to alcohol over the past decade, within the next ten to twenty minutes she’d be getting very emotional and pass out.
“Who are you here with?” I dodged her embrace and scanned the crowded bar to see if I saw anyone.
“Um…” She rested her head on my chest and then she looked up at me and lifted up on her toes to try and kiss me. I turned my head away but her hand fell against my cheek. “I came with Brady, but I donna wanna go home with him. I wanna go home with you.”
“That’s not going to happen.” I just hoped that Sasha might still want to after I dealt with this situation.
Shit. Now I was wishing my brothers and sister hadn’t taken off. I could really use an interference.
Chapter 25
Sasha
“If life deals you a winning hand, don’t fold just because you’re scared to play it.”
~ Barbara-Jean Nelson
My heart was lodged in my throat and tears threatened to fall down my cheeks as I crossed the parking lot and headed back toward Gam’s house. The gravel crunched beneath my feet as I moved them faster, wanting to get home as quickly as possible.
When I’d been in the bathroom stall, two women came in talking about seeing Rachel and Beau being all over each other. They also commented that they’d always thought that Beau and Rachel were the perfect couple and that now that Rachel was back in town, of course they would end up together.
I’d tried not to let what the women said upset me, but as I washed and dried my hands my stomach churned at the thought of them getting back together. I’d hoped that I’d walk out to find Beau waiting for me, but instead I’d found Rachel in his arms. The sight had felt like a blow to my solar plexus and knocked the wind out of me. I couldn’t breathe, my chest hurt, and my vision blurred as I weaved through the bargoers to get to the exit.
I’d had a greater physical reaction to seeing Beau and Rachel fully clothed in the middle of a crowded bar, than I had seeing Drake and Janika naked in a secluded cabin. Which was absolutely ridiculous. The only rational explanation I could come up with was that I must be transferring my emotions from Drake cheating on me onto Beau. Logically, I knew that had to be the case. But it didn’t feel like that. It felt personal.
No, no, no.
I tried to tell myself that whatever was going on with Beau was not personal. We barely knew each other.
So why did it feel like he saw me, the real me?
Why did he feel so familiar?
Why did the short time we shared together feel more real and intimate than the years I’d spent with Drake?
Why did seeing Beau with Rachel hurt so much worse than seeing Drake with Janika?
I didn’t have any answers to those questions. Logically, nothing about what I was feeling for Beau made any sense. Which meant, it was probably better that I’d seen what I had. If I felt this hurt, when he hadn’t done anything to me, after spending one night with him, I don’t think I’d survive it if he pulled a Drake in a few years.
Not that it would last a few years. He lived in Wishing Well and I lived L.A. Which might not be a huge obstacle for some people, but it would be for us. My career was in California and his family was in Texas. His family was his life and my career was mine.
My career was my life.
That was something I hadn’t known before I’d come to Wishing Well, but now I couldn’t unknow it. It was like one of those pictures that if you stared at long enough an image would appear and once you saw it you couldn’t unsee it.
I didn’t have a family, or a community, or a support group. I’d fooled myself into thinking that I did but the harsh truth was, I didn’t. My boyfriend was cheating on me with my coworker. My best friend was pretty much taking his side and so was my mom. My employer was refusing to pay me or give me the respect that I deserved.
That was my