That Thing You Do (A Crystal Lake Novel Book 2) Page 16

  “But we have,” he replied slowly. “Everything’s changed.”

  “Has it?”

  “Of course it has. Nothing is the same.”

  “I don’t agree. We’re in control of how we look at this, and the only thing that’s changed is that you know what I look like naked and I know that the rumors are true.”

  “What rumors?”

  A ghost of a smile touched her mouth. “Rumors about you and some of the special talents you have.”

  “If you’re trying to stroke my ego, it’s working.”

  He was trying for humor, but she didn’t bite. Molly pursed her lips and looked out over the water. “We dipped our toes into something we didn’t plan on, and it was really good.”

  “It was more than just good.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. It was a lot more than good. It was amazing and exciting and kind of taboo because of our friendship. We’re like kids running mad after curfew, hiding from our friends and parents. But it’s not our reality, Nate. Our reality is that Sunday morning, you’re headed to the airport to fly back to the city where you live and have a life, a job you love, and more women waiting for you than you know what to do with.”

  He opened his mouth, but she held up her hand, a soft smile on her face. “It’s okay, Nathan. Do you honestly think I expect you to go back there and live like a hermit? Do you think I’m going to live like a hermit?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked gruffly.

  She moved closer to him, so close the subtle scent of her shampoo teased his nostrils. “It means that we only have a few hours of running mad after curfew.” She placed her hands on his chest. “Earlier tonight, I didn’t know how I felt about that. I thought the easy thing to do was to avoid you and let it all slip away without any fuss. But we can’t overthink things, or get all knotted up because we don’t know how to act around each other. When Sunday night rolls around and you’re back in your loft—”

  “Brownstone.” He caressed her cheek. “I’ve got a place in the Bronx.”

  “When you’re back in your brownstone in the Bronx and I’m in my home, there will be no regrets.” She shrugged. “Nate, you’re my best friend, and that’s not something I’m willing to give up. Ever. But the other part, this thing we got tangled up in over the last few weeks, that’s a fantasy. Outside of this time frame, it’s not real, and I’m not willing to give it legs because I don’t want our friendship to change.”

  “It’s already changed, Moll.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “No. We can’t let it. It means too much.”

  If anything, the words coming from Molly’s mouth and the way she was acting only made Nathan more confused. He took a step back and shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks at about the same time Zach and the rest of the guys strolled onto the deck.

  “Hey, I’ve been looking for you two.” Zach appeared from the shadows and stared at both of them. “Everything okay?”

  “Great,” Molly replied. “We just needed some air.”

  Zach’s gaze rested on his sister an extra beat before he turned to Nathan. “I’m getting the boot. Jess wants to spend the night watching movies with her mom and the girls in the wedding party. I think they’ve already got The Notebook queued up.” He looked at Molly. “I told them you wouldn’t be interested. No offense.”

  “None taken.”

  He motioned toward the guys. “We’re headed to Pottahawk Island.”

  “Pottahawk?” Nate peered at his buddies. “Are you guys crazy? You’ve got to be at the church by noon tomorrow.”

  “Don’t be a pussy, Jacobs.” Zach grinned. “It’s barely nine, and when will the six of us be together again? When will we get another night as perfect as this? When will Stu’s wife let him out to play?”

  They all chuckled at that. “You two in or what?” Zach looked at them and waited.

  “I don’t know, Zach,” Molly said.

  “Seriously?” Zach walked over. “You’d rather go home and make small talk with a cousin you barely know rather than hang with all of us?” He grinned, his exuberance contagious. “Come on. One last bonfire on the beach with the gang, with me, your twin, the person who’s known you longer than anyone on this planet.”

  Nathan looked at these men who meant the world to him, and the woman who’d stolen a slice of his heart when he wasn’t looking. He had no idea what next week would bring, or tomorrow, for that matter, but he knew Zach was right. Life threw curveballs all the time. He knew that more than anyone. So to squander a perfect September night with the guys was dumb. He looked at Molly.

  “Come on, Moll. How can you say no to that?”

  She looked from him to her brother and the others before shrugging. “What the hell. Why not? I have to run home and change first.”

  They made plans to meet up at Beck’s boathouse. Nate’s brother had no problem letting them use his boat. He’d wanted to pick up Molly at her place so they could talk some more on the way to his brother’s, but she insisted on meeting at the boathouse. Nathan was the first to arrive, and Beck wandered down.

  “You driving the boat?” Beck asked when he stepped onto the dock.

  “Still have my license.”

  “You been drinking?”

  “Relax, Beck. I had one beer at dinner hours ago. I’m about as sober as you can get.”

  “Just checking.” Beck walked to the end of the dock. “Nice night for a fire. There’s kindling and a couple of bundles of firewood inside the boathouse. Help yourself.”

  “You can come with us.”

  “Nah. I’m good. I’ve got to be up early and put some time in at the McBrides’ before the wedding.”

  Nate got busy loading the supplies onto the boat, and he’d just stowed a can of kerosene when the guys rolled up. Stu was in a boisterous mood. Seemed as if the man hadn’t had a night away from his newborn since the little guy had come into the world. He passed around cold beers, but Nate declined since he was the chauffer, and asked after Molly.

  “She’ll be here,” Zach said.

  Brad has his guitar, while Mike hauled down a large backpack chock-full of snacks. The moon finally showed herself as the clouds gave way to the stars, and the water was calm. It was damp, though. Nate was glad he’d pulled on a thick sweater.

  “Let’s go, boys.” Molly strode across the dock, arms laden with blankets and quilts. She said a quick hello to Beck and hopped onto the boat, the others following suit like a bunch of baby ducks following their mother. She took a seat at the front, and Nathan slid behind the wheel, expertly guiding the boat away from the dock and into the open water.

  Pottahawk Island was out in the middle of the lake, and a person could paddle there in half an hour or so. With a motor, the trip was made in ten minutes. The old dock was rickety as hell, but Nathan pulled up alongside it and cut the engine. Mike tied off so the boat was secure, and they hauled their firewood down the beach, to the familiar place that most summers became a second home.

  “Geez, I lost my virginity to Susie Holmsworth over behind that scrub brush.” Mike pointed into the dark.

  “Yeah?” Nate glanced his way. “Was that the summer you got poison oak all over your junk and ended up in the hospital?”

  Mike chuckled. “I was actually relieved it was poison oak. For a minute there, I thought I’d caught some horrible disease and my dick was going to fall off.”

  “Didn’t you use a condom?” Brad asked.

  “Damn right I did. My father put the fear of God into me. After my brother got his girlfriend pregnant, he walked into my bedroom and plunked down a case of condoms.”

  “I remember that.” Nate laughed. “They were some knockoff brand called Big Guy.”

  “He told me that if I got a girl pregnant like my brother, he’d cut off my balls. I’ve never had sex without a condom. Ever.”

  “Then why the hell would you think that you’d contracted some weird disease?” Zach asked, popping open a b
eer.

  “Because that’s what Molly told me.”

  “You let her look at your junk?” Zach was incredulous.

  “Hell no. She asked me to describe the general area, and when I did, she told me there was a ninety percent chance my dick was going to fall off and I better get my ass to the hospital.”

  “And the look on your face was priceless.” She laughed, sitting down beside Nathan, a big red-green-and-white wool blanket around her shoulders.

  They settled around the fire, and the six of them reminisced and told stories from their youth, laughing until their sides hurt.

  There was the time Zach got caught egging Coach Marner’s house after he’d been benched for fighting. Coach had run all the way down the street in nothing but his tighty-whities, and the sheriff had nearly arrested him for indecent exposure.

  Or when Stu got caught using his father’s ID to get into the Coach House. First off, his dad was bald in the picture. Secondly, it was his dad. And third? The first person they spied when they sauntered into the Coach House like they owned the place was Stu’s father.

  “Hey, do you remember prom?” Zach asked as he slouched low in his chair.

  “That was one crazy night,” Mike said, raising his beer high in the air. “Man, we ruled as seniors, and the after-party was something else. Doreen McGilvey was my date. Whatever happened to her?”

  “I think she went to the West Coast for college and never came back,” Molly replied.

  “I took Bernadette Olsen. Remember her?” Zach said with glee.

  “Who doesn’t?” Stu piped in. “She had the biggest boobs in our class and was with every single guy on the hockey team.”

  “She was?” Zach looked surprised.

  “Hell yeah. God, she was good at that thing she did. You know, the one with her—”

  “Okay, boys. It’s 2019. We don’t need a play-by-play of prom-night conquests.” Molly shook her head at them all.

  “What about you, Moll?” Brad asked, slurring his words because he’d had more than a few.

  “What about me?”

  “Nathan took her to prom. Don’t you remember?” Mike said, poking Brad in the arm.

  “That’s right.” Brad grinned widely at them, and Nathan knew what was coming out of his mouth before he spoke. The man had never known when to quit.

  “So did you two do the deed or what?”

  Mike punched Brad in the shoulder. “What?” Brad looked at them all. “Everyone has sex on prom night. It’s like tradition.”

  “No,” Molly said without skipping a beat. “Not everyone. Nate screwed some girl who crashed our prom party, and I went home.”

  Nate looked at Molly, but she was staring across the fire at Brad.

  “No big deal, really,” she said, but he caught something in her voice, and it made him feel like shit. “It’s not like I was his first choice. He only asked me because Zach made him.”

  “That’s not true.” Nathan looked at her. “I took you to prom because of that douchebag Brett Smith. He made you cry. I didn’t need Zach to tell me to ask you.”

  She glanced up at him, shadows flickering across her face, and shrugged. “Either way, you ended up banging some girl from who knows where, and I went home early.” She looked at the guys. “Can we change the subject now?”

  Brad reached for his guitar and began strumming. He slowly found his way to the old classics they all knew, songs by Pink Floyd, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and The Eagles. By the time they got into “American Pie,” they were in fine form and sang every word of every verse. None of them would ever be able to earn a living singing, or playing guitar for that matter. But out here with only their ears to listen, it was enough.

  “I miss this,” Nate said, staring into the flames.

  “Cheers, boys,” Zach said, holding up his beer.

  I miss her already.

  He looked at Molly bundled up against the chill, smiling as she chatted with Mike about some of their classmates and where they’d ended up. He wanted to pull her into his arms and keep her close, inhale her scent and kiss her until she begged him to stop. But with the guys here, he knew she wouldn’t allow it.

  He looked at his oldest friends and felt a hint of resentment—they were the barrier keeping him from the one person he most wanted to be with tonight. Something was missing, and that something was Molly. He’d give anything to have her to himself right now.

  A few hours earlier, she’d told him she didn’t want anything to change, and while it was a nice notion, Nate realized it was all wrong. It was too late.

  Everything had already changed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Molly barely slept. She’d gotten home from Pottahawk at nearly four in the morning to find Janelle smack dab in the middle of her bed, hugging every pillow she owned. She’d tugged one of the pillows from her cousin’s grasp and flopped on the sofa, where she stared out the window into the darkness until streaks of gold, red, and yellow chased each other across the sky.

  She wished Nate was here with her, but with Janelle in the house, she’d told him it wouldn’t be a good idea. He’d followed her home, and they sat outside until it was too cold, talking about nothing that mattered, if only to hold on to the last remnants of the week. After tomorrow morning, he’d be gone, and things would get back to normal.

  At least that was what she told herself when he kissed her goodbye, smiled that devil of a smile, and told her they’d spend Saturday night together even if it meant heading to a hotel in the neighboring county, since everything in Crystal Lake was full up with out-of-towners for the Malone wedding, two separate golf tournaments, as well as the finals for the men’s fastball, and a dog show down at the fairgrounds.

  She’d nodded, said nothing, and waited until his vehicle disappeared down the road before closing her door. Then the Janelle situation and her bed happened, which led to no sleep and more coffee consumption than was healthy.

  She was on her fourth cup when her cousin came downstairs, sleep still heavy in her eyes, her hair a mess of tangles. Janelle proceeded to spend the next hour complaining about the job she quit (didn’t lose like Molly’s mother had claimed), her bastard of a husband she left because he didn’t make enough money (Molly had no idea where Starbucks girl fit into that), the state of the economy, the color of the dress she’d brought for the wedding--chartreuse if you can believe it, what on earth was she thinking? The lumpy mattress she’d spent the night on, sheets that definitely didn’t have a high-enough thread count, and then she felt the need to point out that Molly had no food in the house.

  “Seriously, you look sick, Molly. Do you have an eating disorder?” Janelle’s round face puckered a bit as she frowned and her blue eyes narrowed. She was a curvy girl, and if she wasn’t such a negative Nelly, she’d be attractive. Her personality was a drag and Molly thought that her ex had maybe dodged a bullet.

  “No,” Molly said, forcing a smile. “Just a high metabolism.”

  “Ugh. I wish.” The woman proceeded to regale Molly with her decade-long struggle to diet and lose those damn twenty-five pounds she’d gained after getting married. She’d tried everything. Keto. Atkins. The Paleo diet. Weight Watchers. Blah. Blah. Blah. Molly’s eyes glazed over. She’d never heard anyone complain as much as this woman did.

  “Why don’t you try walking every day and make yourself a healthy meal plan? There’s tons of information on the internet. You just have to take the time and search for it.” Molly got up from the kitchen table because she couldn’t take this anymore.

  “That’s easy for you to say with your high metabolism.”

  “No, it’s just kind of what you should be doing.” Molly was just about done with Janelle.

  “I suppose I could try, but I hate walking. It’s so boring.”

  Some people couldn’t be pleased. Molly looked at her watch, grateful she had a legitimate excuse to leave. She was meeting the girls at the salon downtown for hair and makeup, and if she didn’t leave soon, she
’d be late.

  “I’ve got to go, so…” Molly sidled past her cousin. She pointed to her hair and face, thinking it was enough of an explanation.

  “Are you coming back here afterward?”

  “No. I’m going to Mom’s to get dressed, and then we’re leaving for the country club.”

  “How will I get to the wedding?” There was something about a grown woman whining that made Molly want to poke her eyes out.

  “We have cabs in Michigan, Janelle. Call one.”

  Molly didn’t wait for a response. She ran upstairs and got dressed, grabbed the bag she’d packed the day before, and headed out into the sunshine. She’d just tossed her stuff in the back of her truck when she spied Link at the end of her driveway. He’d been out for a jog, his clothes damp with sweat and his hair plastered to his head. He held up his hand and grimaced. By the looks of things, he’d pushed himself hard.

  “Hey,” she said, walking over to him with a smile. “You’re still here.”

  “That I am.”

  “I was meaning to stop by this week, but it’s been crazy with the wedding and work and…just stuff.”

  “Right, your brother’s nuptials.” Link turned in a full circle. “It’s going to be a beautiful day for it.”

  “It is,” she replied as an idea took hold. “What are your plans this afternoon?”

  “I don’t really have any. I bought a book in town the other day. Thought I’d give it a whirl.”

  “Why don’t you come to the wedding reception?”

  “Wedding crashers? That’s really a thing in the US?” He stretched and rolled his neck.

  “It’s not crashing if you’re invited.”

  “That’s really nice of you, Molly.” He backed up and started jogging in place.

  “So you’ll come? The reception starts at four at the Crystal Lake Golf & Country Club, the one on the other side of the lake.”

  “I’ll think about it.” He gave a salute and disappeared down the road.

  Twenty minutes later, Molly was sitting in a chair, feeling more than a little overwhelmed because she’d been ordered to let Janie the aesthetician have carte blanche with her face, and Carl, the senior hair stylist, immediately sank his hands into her hair and began pulling pieces every which way.