Infinitely by Cheryl McIntyre
We both look out the window to see Jaxon on his way back, jogging across the street. Alone. I lift my hand as if to say, “See?”
Jax squeezes into the booth next to me. “Let me guess,” I state. “There’s a stocking emergency that only Benji can handle.”
He winces and rubs a hand over his face. “Actually, Payton’s closing up for him so he can go home and unpack. But he said to tell you guys ‘hi.’” He taps his fingers on the table and I move, ready to smack his hands into silence, but something on his wrist catches my eye. Thick, double Band-Aids. I swallow and look up at him, our eyes lock for just a second before he pulls his arm under the table. I wonder why I didn’t notice them before and realize he had been wearing a leather wristband earlier. I want to ask him about it so badly, but his body language makes it clear he doesn’t want to discuss it. That’s not going to fly forever, but I can let it go for now.
“Hi Kameron, Briar. How you girls doing tonight?” Fancy smiles at us and flips her order book open. She gropes around her blond and pink ponytail for a pen—there are two that I can see from here. “Is that…Jaxon Borelli? Look at you. You’re so big! What do they put in the ice cream out there in California?”
Jaxon flashes his dimples. “I wouldn’t know. I couldn’t bring myself to eat anybody else’s ice cream.” He flutters his long black lashes. “Nothing compares to yours,” he says in this rich, smooth voice that is nothing short of sexy. And then he winks at her.
Kameron’s eyes bulge as they flick from Jaxon, to Fancy, to me. It takes all my willpower to keep my jaw from dropping. I know he’s not a kid anymore, but in my mind, Jaxon will always be Benji’s sweet, little brother. This side of him is unnerving and slightly comical.
Flustered, Fancy starts searching her hair for a pen again. “Uh, what can I get you?”
I clear my throat twice before I’m able to speak. “I’ll have a double scoop of strawberry with chocolate sprinkles,” I say, my voice dangerously leaning to the squeaky side.
Jaxon cocks an eyebrow at Kameron as she gawks at him. I kick her under the table and she jumps. “Oh, um, I want a scoop of chocolate and a scoop of vanilla in a cone bowl please.”
Fancy looks at Jaxon as he slides my menu in front of him with his long index finger. “It’s been so long.” He gazes up at her as if she’s the only person in the room and sighs. “I’m not sure what I want.” He leans toward her. “What do you think I’ll like, Fancy?”
“Well…” She swallows and begins again. “There’s the Fancy special.”
Jax busts out Benji’s lopsided smile again, just one indent in his cheek showing. “The Fancy special? That sounds like it would be…delicious.”
Fancy wipes at her forehead though there’s nothing there. “It’s three scoops of pecan ice cream with butterscotch drizzle.”
Jaxon licks his lips slowly, his eyes fixed on Fancy’s, and now I can’t help it, my jaw falls. I’m still scooping it up off the table when he continues. “Butterscotch,” he muses. The one words drips from his tongue like hot honey. “That’s perfect. Can you put a little of your whipped cream on top, too? That would be mouthwatering.”
The sexual innuendo is blaringly clear. And sexy as hell.
She swallows again. “Sure thing, Jaxon.” She goes to make our order, but turns back twice before she makes it behind the counter.
“What was that?” I whisper in a quiet hiss, not sure if I should be embarrassed or totally turned on.
Jax leans his head back against the seat, perfectly relaxed, and grins at me. “What? It’s your fault.”
I throw my hands up. “Uh, how exactly is it my fault?”
He sits up now and turns to face me. “You cheated.” He shrugs as if that explains everything.
“So you’re teaching me a lesson by flirting with Fancy?” I ask slowly, completely confused.
“No. I’m paying for your ice cream.”
I have no clue what he’s talking about.
Kameron pops a bubble and sits back. “That was pretty hot. I’d give you free ice cream, too.” She smiles at him as she adds, “But you better hope her husband doesn’t find out.”
“What? She’s married?” Jax looks around the small café, eying every guy in the place.
I laugh at the frightened expression on his face. “She got married in March. They’re newlyweds, but don’t worry. He’s not here.”
Jaxon sags with relief. “I didn’t know. Man, she’s kind of young to be married.”
I shake my head. “She’s like twenty-five now.” I finally sit back. “So, how do you know this will work?”
“I don’t, but it usually does.” He smirks smugly, confident.
“Usually? You do this a lot?”
“Mom wasn’t around much. It was just me and Benji most of the time and he didn’t make enough to pay rent and buy food.” He taps the table again and it occurs to me this is a nervous habit. “If we wanted to eat, we had to scam. It was usually Benji—he’s the master when it comes to 3F.”
“What is 3F?” Kameron asks.
Jaxon chuckles. “Flirting for Food,” he explains. “I used my size, being so small for so long, working the older people. Grandparent types that saw a hungry, young kid. Benji took the younger waitresses. At least until I hit my growth spurt.”
When he notices the look on my face he shakes his head. “Don’t judge, Bri. You don’t know what it’s like to be hungry. Not really, truly, hungry. The shit we went through, the things we saw… Pimping ourselves to eat is nothing compared to that, ya know?”
“You pimped yourselves?” Kameron says a little too loudly. A couple in the booth behind us turns around. And of course, I know them. They buy Dad’s produce. I shift uncomfortably.
“Metaphorically, Kam. Shit,” Jaxon groans, dismayed.
Fancy comes back with our ice cream and a big smile. Jax thanks her with a dimple show, and she leans forward, resting her hand on his shoulder. “This is on me. A little welcome back for Jaxon.” She turns to him as she says, “If you need anything else, just let me know.”
“I will. Thanks Fancy.” He then makes a big production of eating a heaping spoonful of ice cream. “Mm,” he moans from deep within his throat. “This is so good.”
Fancy beams as she walks away, a new twitch in her step.
~*~
We don’t race on the way home. Instead, we take our time. Kameron fills Jax in on the latest gossip and informs him of all the newly married young women so he doesn’t make that mistake again.
After the bridge, Jaxon looks out past the field at Flynn’s house. “You want to stop over there. I haven’t seen Flynn yet.”
Kameron pulls Princess to a stop. “Um, huh-uh. Flynn is kind of a sore subject for Briar right now.”
Jax glances at me, brows raised in question. “Why?”
“They were dating, but…now they aren’t,” Kam explains. “Like, just now.”
Jaxon bursts out laughing. “Really? You and Flynn? Oh, that is priceless. When I tell Benji—”
I glare at him. “What is wrong with Flynn?”
He tucks his lips, trying not to laugh. “No, nothing. Flynn’s cool. Man, how long did he wait before he made his move? Were we even gone yet?”
I don’t understand why this is so funny to him. “A year, why?”
“It took him a year? Really?” He puckers his full lips for a moment. “So that’s a definite no to stopping by then?”
I click my tongue and urge Grace forward. “I don’t think he wants to see me.”
“Why did you break up?” He catches my eye and I shake my head. I can’t say it out loud. Not to him. “Ah, I see,” he utters.
10
Benji
I’m an addict. I say this freely, but it’s not freeing. You’d think it would be. But it’s not. It’s like taking the first step on the Spiral Staircase at the Vatican Museum and realizing it’s just one steep, winding ramp that just keeps going and going.
Because I have a
I hate that I had to explain, once again, that until I’m clean and work shit out with Delphi, I can’t be around her. And it’s shitty of him to keep waving her in my face. My presence alone puts Briar in danger. This isn’t a game. Jax may not understand the extent of Delphi’s malevolence, but I do. It’s not just what he may have done to my mom. It’s not the twisted way he gets his kicks. It’s not his greed or his hunger for power. It’s the unstoppable force he will pursue me with. His consuming need for vengeance. And his aptitude to make people disappear.
After my meltdown, Jax left without a word and I attacked empty boxes, breaking them down like a madman until I could finally go home.
“I need a hit,” Megan says as soon as I walk into my room. She’s sitting in the middle of my bed, dressed in nothing but her panties and a tank top. Her bare legs are pulled up to her chest, giving me a clear shot of said panties. She’s rocking herself. Forward. Backward. I notice the light sheen to her face. The way her hair clings to her neck. I raise my hand to the vent to verify it’s blowing cool air like it should.
She took her third dose before I left. She’s supposed to be weaning with me. Less and less each week. That’s the plan. She’s fucking it up already.
“I know it’s hard—”
“Benji, please,” she moans, cutting me off. She claws at her hair, shoving it out of her face. “I can’t take it. I need a fucking hit. Just one. I’ll be good tomorrow, I swear. Just one more tonight.”
My hand curls into a fist. If I give in, if I let her do this then I’ll want to do it too. I already do. Her dark eyes are bloodshot, pink around the lids, purple underneath. She looks like shit. Just the way I feel.
I stomp to the window, open the blinds, and lift the glass. I need air. I need the country-scented breeze to fill my lungs and clear the haze.
If we each just take one oxy it won’t hurt anything. It’s just one. It’s still better than two days ago. It’s still progress. What will it hurt?
Fuck.
This isn’t working. I stick my head outside the window and inhale again. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough. I’m too weak.
I drop my head and movement catches my eye. The snap of paper against the wind makes my heart jump into my throat until I feel like I might puke.
My gaze slides over to Briar’s window before coming back to the folded paper just inches from my reach. I tug the clothespin off and snatch the note from the line. It crumbles in my shaking hand as I lean back inside.
“Please,” Megan cries. I hear the bed creak and I know she’s coming toward me. I shove the window closed, lower the blinds back into place, and swing around to meet her.
“Give me two fucking seconds,” I hiss as I push past her and stalk out of the door. I glance around the hall before deciding to lock myself in the bathroom. I’m afraid to see what’s inside this note and I don’t want an audience.
I kick the toilet lid closed and take a seat, propping my legs on the side of the tub in front of me. And then I unfold the paper. Two words stare back at me. I read them several times.
Welcome back.
That’s it. Part of me wants to smile because it’s so simple. Sweet. Briar.
The other part is pissed off. After three years, that’s all she has to say to me?
And then I laugh like the asshole I am because I have absolutely no room to be pissed off. I’m supposed to be keeping my distance. Protecting her by staying away. I have no right to be upset. But the most amazing thing about those two little words is that now, even though the urge to use is as strong as it was five minutes ago, I feel like I might be a little stronger.
I’m going to need help. I need to come clean about everything, get it all off my chest, and figure out exactly what to do. I decide to go to the only people I know I can trust with this—Briar’s parents. I carefully refold the paper and place it in my back pocket. I’m sure I’ll look at it a few more times before the night’s over.
11
Briar
Kameron is lying on her stomach in my bed, paging through a magazine when I get back from my shower. Apparently she was serious about staying the night. I hand her my brush and she goes to work on my hair. “If you like long hair so much, why don’t you grow yours out?” I ask.
She snorts. “I don’t like long hair. I like your hair.” She’s quiet for a while and that makes me nervous. Kam’s only quiet when she’s contemplating or conspiring. Neither of which ever lead to any good.
“What are you thinking about?”
The brush pauses. “Do you really want to know?”
I turn around to face her, pulling my legs under me. “That’s why I asked.”
She moves the brush through her own hair and looks at the wall. “I was kind of, sort of thinking, a tiny bit…about Jaxon. Is that totally creepy?”
I smile at her and she returns it. “I don’t think that’s creepy at all. He’s gotten sexy, right? Do you like him?”
She shifts and hugs the brush to her chest. “I’ve always had a little crush on him, but he’s younger than us.”
“Damn, Kam the cougar wants a piece of the sexy, young stud.” I want to tell her what Jax said earlier, about her being pretty, but his threat is fresh in my mind. “Do you want me to talk to him?” I ask instead. “See if I can set something up?”
She bites her lip. “That’s not too junior high?”
“Probably, but who gives a shit? I don’t. I’m sure he won’t. And I think you would be cute together.”
“I do too,” she sighs. “Ugh. It feels like we’re kids all over again.”
“You want me to pass him a note?” I tease.
She makes a face at me. “I don’t want to pass notes. I want him in my bed, doing very grown-up things to me.”
“Well, that escalated rather quickly.”
She shrugs, unabashed. “The boy is a sex god and I want to lay on his alter.”
“You know you’re going to Hell, right?”
“Worth it,” she trills, a devious smile spreading her lips. “Okay, I’m going to take a shower.” Then she wiggles her eyebrows. “Better make it a cold shower.”
“Ew,” I say, pretending to be engrossed with her magazine. As soon as she’s gone, I hop up, peeking out the window to make sure there are still lights on next door. Several windows glow brightly and I’m about to leave when I remember the note. My eyes slide across the line. The note’s gone. My stomach twists and I smile.
He got it.
I race down the stairs, my feet sliding on the bottom step. I grab the banister to keep from performing a face plant in the entryway.
“I’m going next door,” I call to Dad. The screen door bangs behind me and I hop off the steps. I decide in the few seconds it takes me to reach Benji’s porch that there is no reason for all my anxiety. He was my best friend since the time I could walk. And when your friend comes back after being away for three years, you should visit him. Yes, I confessed my love to him before he left, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still my friend. I mean, if he’s been avoiding me because he’s worried I want more than friendship and he doesn’t, I can be friends. I can. It’s better than nothing. Right? And besides, I’m not really coming over here for him. I’m here for Kameron and Jax. Like a pimp.
After a deep breath, I knock on the screen door, shifting back and forth on my bare feet, now damp from the grass. Jaxon leans around the armchair he’s lounging in, craning his neck to see who’s at the door. “Hey, Bri,” he says, surprised. He jumps up, coming to the door quickly.
He stares at me for several seconds as if he’s unsure what he should do, so I decide to help him out. “Are you going to invite me in?”
With a glance over his shoulder, he opens the door. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”
<
Jaxon steps in between me and the stairs as he scratches his head. His dark hair stands up messily. “Sleeping, I think. What about Kameron?”
I move around him into the living room, shifting so I have a clear path to the staircase. “You know how earlier you were talking about how you thought she was pretty?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I didn’t tell her, but I can if you want me to.” I hold up a hand when one of his black brows rises suspiciously. “The reason I ask is because she wanted me to set something up with you. Because she’s into you.” I smile and cross my arms over my chest. “Not that I can imagine why,” I tease.
He returns the smile. “Is she now?”
“Yep. You should go talk to her.” Taking advantage of his momentary distraction with the current turn of events, I take several steps until I’m at the bottom of the staircase. “And while you do that, I’m going to go talk to Benji.”
He whirls around. “No, you can’t. He’s sleeping, I said.”
I’m backing up, one step at a time. “It’s all right, his light’s on. I checked before I came over.” I’m halfway up now. “I’m not sure why you keep covering for him, but if he doesn’t want to see me, he’s going to have to tell me himself.”
Jaxon shakes his head and lunges at me, his hand sliding around my wrist. “Briar, you can’t go up there.”
I have no time to think, only react. I’m so shocked by his behavior, I jerk my arm back and run the rest of the way. Just as I reach Benji’s door, it opens and we’re face to face. His eyes widen—apparently I was the last person he expected to catch outside of his room—and he literally stumbles back as if he’s afraid of me.