Page 31 of Just Between Us

Goodnight William.

“Remindme why we’re here again?” Ryan asks, raising his voice over the noise. “Since neither of us want to be here.”

“Habit? Fuck if I know. I’m in town and this is what we do.”

That’s always been reason enough. I come to Nashville, drag my brother from his gaming console, and we hit up Broadway. But after being away for a few weeks, the bars now feel different. Too crowded. Too loud. I’m not sure when it happened, but in the span of a month I’ve outgrown the part of myself who used to love this.

“What’s going on with you, man?” he asks.

“I told you, nothing. I needed to hang back in Singing River for a while. That’s all.”

I take a sip of my beer but lower it when Ryan nudges me, jerking his head to the bar. “Those two at the end keep looking over here.”

I don’t bother turning. “Not interested, dude.”

Ryan’s brows lift and he studies me.

“Quit that shit. It’s not that deep. I’m just not interested tonight. Plus, I might not come up here as often as usual, so there’s no point starting something up.”

Ryan and I both know I only have one-nighters, so that lastpart is complete and total bullshit. I take another sip of my beer, wishing I’d ordered something stronger, with what I’m not saying sitting between us.

It’s not the bar or the noise, or even the women eyeing my brother and me.

It’s Cassie. And I’d be lying to myself if I said otherwise.

A few weeks have passed since the sky rat incident, and since then Cassie and I have spent at least three nights a week together and every weekend. She finally beat me in a game of Wii tennis, and I talked her into watching something other than a horror movie. I selectedThe Matrixand she loved it so much we’ve finished the entire trilogy. We’ve hiked several trails near my house, but I never convinced her to jump off Whippoorwill again. She’s quickly become the person I want to spend all my time with, and damn close to my best friend. Which is where I need to keep her, otherwise I’ll think thoughts that are better left alone.

But that doesn’t mean I need to be fucking around in Nashville either. Even though I can’t go there with Cassie, getting to know her on a deeper level has ruined the appeal of hooking up with a stranger.

I rub my thumb along the condensation on the side of the bottle and peel back a corner of the label. I know my brother’s watching me again, but I don’t look up. Ryan lets the silence sit for a beat, until finally he speaks.

“Soooo…” He drags out the word. “Who is she?”

Exhaling through my nose, I keep my eyes fixed on my beer, pretending to read the label to avoid responding. “I never mentioned a she.”

“You know,” Ryan begins, setting his beer down, “in all my twenty-eight years as your brother, I’ve never known you to be a liar.” He pauses when my head whips his way. “Also, Mom mentioned something about a woman. Cassie, I think?”

“Mom—what? What’d she say?”

Ryan holds up a hand to stop my stammering and questions. “Calm your tits. She didn’t say much. Just mentioned you’d been spending a lot of time with a new woman in town and you seem different.” His mouth hooks up and he tips his bottle at me. “After seeing you tonight, I get what she means.”

Well, shit. I’ve just been living my life, working at the studio, helping at the bar when I’m needed, and spending time with Cassie when I’m not. Somehow it didn’t cross my mind people might be noticing how much time we spend together. I don’t mind people noticing. Hell, I hope people see it’s me she’s choosing to be around. It’s just been a while since I was the topic of conversation around Singing River.

Ryan takes another sip of his beer, sets it down, and eyes me with one brow quirked.

“Right now…” I say, hating how the words feel even as I’m speaking them. “All Cassie and I can be is friends.”

Ryan doesn’t jump to respond. He sits, arms crossed, waiting to see if I’ll say more.

“It’s not that I don’t want more. I want a hell of a lot more,” I admit. “But Cassie has been through a lot.”

I leave it at that. Her story is hers to tell, and I’m not about to parade it around as proof for why I’m keeping her planted firmly in the friend category. Ryan is perceptive, and when he hums under his breath, a thoughtful sound, I know he hears the things I’m not saying.

“So,” he says at last. “Friends for now?”

I shrug, resigned. “Friends for now.”

He studies me, and by the look on his face, his thinking face, I can tell he has more to say, and suddenly my skin feels too tight, dread curling in my chest. I try to focus on the sounds around us, glasses clinking, thepssftof a can being opened, the bartender calling out an order.