Close friends. Oh God, would Matt be there? The blood in Lucy’s veins froze, but she couldn’t deny a tiny flip in her stomach that she would see him again, no matter the circumstances. Proving she needed a psychiatric evaluation stat. There was no way she could avoid her brother’s engagement party, though. She no longer had school as an excuse. Hayden stood there, watching her expectantly, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow when Lucy stayed silent far too long. Obviously, she would have to go and pray Matt didn’t attend. Or…hide when he did?
The live studio audience in her head broke into laughter, at her expense.
She cleared her throat. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Chapter Six
Matt stood outside the Upper West Side brownstone, debating whether or not to actually go inside. Small get-together, Brent had told him. Right. It looked like half the city was in attendance. He wasn’t good with crowds and even worse making small talk. This was not his scene, a fact Brent obviously knew well, hence his under-exaggeration. After the sleepless night he’d had after dropping off Sasha, he was even less equipped than usual to handle this many people, closing in on him, making him feel claustrophobic.
Parties had never appealed to him, but since returning from Afghanistan, they made him even more uncomfortable. He couldn’t monitor everything taking place around him, couldn’t see who was standing behind him, didn’t like the constant coming and going of new faces. It made him sweat, made it harder to focus on the questions people inevitably threw at him after a few drinks. What did you do, exactly, overseas? Did you see action? Is The Hurt Locker an accurate portrayal?
It brought the memories he lived with each day even closer to the surface, until they were unavoidable. Until he couldn’t blink without seeing the horror all over again, feel the sun beating down on him as he waited for a target to move into place. Sometimes he could even taste the sand in his mouth, feel it in his eyes. They all paled in comparison to the worst memory of all, the one that felt fresh enough to have occurred yesterday.
Tommy.
The front door of the brownstone burst open, interrupting his thoughts. Brent ducked under the doorframe and walked out onto the top step. “You going to stand out here all night, Matty? We got free food in here. Don’t make me come down there and put you in a headlock.”
Despite his reluctance to go inside, he felt himself relax. He had a love-hate relationship with Brent, but he knew his friends were the only thing keeping him from the total seclusion he craved. Being a sniper condoned his isolation, in a way. Thankfully, they never pried too far into his past, something for which he was grateful. Even so, they’d made it clear that when he felt like talking about it, they would listen.
He’d had people in his life once before like that, though, hadn’t he? Before the rug got pulled out from under him, leaving him flat on his ass.
Brent made an impatient noise. “Come on, sweetheart. I promise I’ll be with you the whole time.”
Matt casually flipped him the bird as he ascended the steps.
“That’s more like it. Let’s get you a cold one.” Brent threw a heavy arm around his shoulder. “There are a bunch of dudes with trays, handing out pink champagne. If I’m not careful I’m going to start liking it. If that ever happens, take my man card, please.”
“You lost your man card when you belted the Beaches theme song at City Hall.”
They walked inside, Brent immediately zeroing in on Hayden, who turned and met his eyes on cue. “Yeah. But look what I got in exchange.”
Matt declined a glass of champagne with a shake of his head. “So what happened to this being a small get-together?”
Brent shrugged and took the champagne Matt had declined. “You know how the Winsteads roll. I think I saw Donald Trump around here somewhere.” He downed the drink in one gulp. “Hey, man. Did I thank you yet for getting Lucy here in one piece? That’s no small accomplishment. She usually leaves some form of destruction in her path. I guess she’s like her brother in that way.”
“Lucy?” Matt shook his head “She’s with her boyfriend at his lake house.”
Brent leaned back. “Lucy has a boyfriend?” He set the empty glass down with a decisive thunk. “My little sister has a boyfriend?”
Hayden walked up and laid a hand on Brent’s arm. “Everything okay here, gents?”
“Where’d Lucy go?” Brent scanned the crowd. “Apparently there’s some guy with a lake house I need to put the fear of God into.”
Matt held up a hand. “Wait. Lucy is here?”
Brent tilted his head. “Have you been stealing pot from the evidence locker again? You dropped her off here last night.”
He opened his mouth to correct Brent when he saw her. The words died on his lips, along with any semblance of rational thought. Sasha. In a strapless green dress, tipping back a glass of champagne as she walked in his direction. His body’s reaction was twice as potent as the day in the coffee shop because this time, he knew. Knew she could turn him inside out with a look, a touch, a sound ripped from her throat. She was danger on two legs and he wanted to immerse himself in it. Her.
These fevered thoughts came and multiplied in strength before she’d even noticed him standing there, but now she slowed to a stop, gaze shooting wide. Steps faltering. As if she’d never expected to see him again. Oh, he didn’t f**king like that at all. Matt allowed the satisfying image of him carrying her from the party over his shoulder to linger in his mind. It made up for her lack of pleasure at discovering him there. He’d thought of her nonstop since last night, worrying for her safety, wondering if he’d hurt her, fantasizing about their too-short hour in the motel, when she’d obviously had no intention of calling him.
“Luce, get over here.” Brent dragged her forward and held her against his side. “You have a boyfriend and you didn’t tell me?”
Matt felt the blood drain from his face. No…no. Please let him have heard wrong. Sasha wasn’t Sasha…she was Lucy? Lucy, as in Brent’s sister. How could it be possible? Seeing her petite form standing beside Brent, such a huge contrast in their appearances, made it seem like a crazy joke. But it so obviously wasn’t. Her guilt was plastered all over her face. Not happening. Jesus. This girl, whom he’d had one of the most honest experiences of his life with, had been lying to him the whole time. It felt like déjà vu.
She’d made him a fool. Again.
Lucy gave a barely perceptible head shake, and what he interpreted as an apology with her eyes, but he was beyond caring. Still, he couldn’t quite bring himself to walk away yet. Worse, far worse, he still wanted her, dammit. That burned most of all.
“Who told you I had a boyfriend?” she asked Brent, still watching him closely.
“Your chauffer, Matt, ratted you out.”
She laughed, a hint of humor making her green eyes twinkle. It was such a Brent-like characteristic, Matt wanted to kick himself for not seeing it before. You were too focused on the rest of her, though, weren’t you? “You know Matt. Joke a minute. Halfway here yesterday, I started calling him Chuckles.”
“Damn, I should have thought of that.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Matt noticed Hayden scrutinizing him and realized he hadn’t even attempted to hide his reaction to seeing Lucy. Brent seemed a little too high on life to notice, but his shocked silence hadn’t escaped Hayden, obviously. Right now, he had a decision to make. The right thing would be to come clean, tell his best friend what went down, leaving out all of the graphic details. Yet everything inside him rebelled at the notion. He couldn’t look his best friend in the eye and tell him he screwed his little sister on the floor of a cheap motel room.