A Brand New Ending (Page 35)

He looked deep into her eyes as he came. He studied her beloved face, memorizing every angle and curve, and then he tucked her against him and held her, telling her over and over that he loved her. That he’d love her forever . . .

He had to get the hell out of here.

Kyle looked down at himself. After the disastrous episode with Ophelia yesterday, he’d focused on getting through the next chapter, but he’d fallen into the hole. The hole was wonderful for creativity.

It was not so wonderful for hygiene.

Blinking as if he’d just emerged from a dark cave for months, he stared at the mud of leftover coffee by his elbow. Crumbs from a granola bar littered his lap. The seltzer next to the coffee had long ago gone flat. Then he realized he was still in his clothes from yesterday and that taking a morning shower had slipped past his consciousness. His mouth felt like a big old fuzzpot.

What time was it?

Hell, what day was it?

He peered at his watch and groaned. Seven p.m.

He needed out of this room.

Grabbing his phone, he punched out a text to Ethan.

Wanna grab a beer and some dinner?

He figured his friend would decline going out on a Saturday night when he had a live-in lover, but the three dots suddenly popped up with a GIF of Will Ferrell guzzling beer.

Hell yes. Half hour?

He sent a thumbs-up emoji and grinned. He hadn’t been out with just Ethan in a long time, and he was looking forward to hitting their favorite bars in town.

He brushed his teeth, showered, and changed in record time, keeping it simple with jeans, a dark purple Stone Rose shirt, and low black boots. He jumped in the rental and beeped after he pulled up in front of the bungalow. Through the front window, he spotted Ethan trying to back out from the menagerie of dogs and the mean chicken, finally managing to shut the door.

Ethan slid into the front seat.

Kyle lifted a brow. “So how’s domesticated life?”

“Fuck you.”

He laughed and drove to their favorite Irish pub. They packed themselves into a boisterous drinking crowd currently watching the Syracuse basketball game. Shoved into a table by the bar, they ordered two IPAs and relaxed into the stools.

Kyle munched on peanuts and threw shells on the floor. “Where’s Mia?”

Ethan shrugged. “Girls’ night out with Ophelia and Harper.”

She was on the town with her girls. Kyle remembered them partying together in their youth. That woman had such pure Irish blood, she’d been able to match his and Ethan’s pace at any drinking game. He’d always been so damn proud of that ability.

“You know what they were doing?”

“Not sure. Dinner. Movies. Maybe one of those paint-and-sip things that are popular. Girl stuff.”

His lip quirked. She was probably drinking wine, eating sushi, and sitting in some bar at a fancy restaurant with a bunch of uptight suits.

The waitress glided over, and they ordered burgers and another round of beers.

“How’s the writing going, man?”

He snorted. “Let’s just say you’re lucky that I showered.”

“That means it’s good, right?”

“Yeah. It’s a sad career when productivity means being fat and unclean.”

“You think coming back home made a difference, then?”

“Definitely. I needed a change of scenery. Plus, even though you’re a pain in the ass—I missed you.”

“Back atcha. What about Ophelia? You two are getting along better now, right? She finally forgive you for whatever fuck-up you did in California?”

Guilt hit him. He tried to keep his answer casual. “Yeah, we’re good now.”

Ethan nodded. “When I first heard you guys had run off to California while I was deep in basic training, I freaked. I worried about Tink. Worried Hollywood would eat her up and spit her out. But knowing she was with you helped. Even though you had a big fight and she ended up coming home, I knew you’d taken care of her out there. Made sure she wasn’t hurt. I never thanked you for that, man.”

Kyle’s gut roiled. His friend’s heartfelt words filled him with stinging shame. Kyle took a swig of beer and wondered if he could tell Ethan the whole damn thing.

It’d be such a relief to talk to him and get his advice. To spill his guts and admit his feelings for Ophelia, and how badly he wanted to reconcile. To confess how he’d fucked it all up and ended up hurting her anyway.

He ached to spill his soul. Though he knew tons of people in Hollywood, no one knew the real him. He’d never been able to make a true bond with someone he’d trust with his hidden secrets. Sure, he was popular on the party circuit, with plenty of people to keep him occupied and entertained. But inside, he was lonely.

Still, Ethan might lose his shit if he found out he and Ophelia were married. He may feel betrayed and blame Kyle, and then he’d lose his best friend.

No, he had to keep his mouth shut—at least until he convinced Ophelia to give him a second chance. Then they could tell Ethan together.

“No worries.” He cleared his throat and tried to change the subject. “Hey, remember when we used to party at Joe’s? You used to get so drunk and pick fights with bigger guys.”

“I had mad fighting skills. It was the only time I got to use them.”

Kyle laughed. “Except that time with the Asian guy who kicked your ass and was half your height.”

“Fuck you. I remember when you couldn’t finish a beer funnel, threw up, and passed out under the bar. We couldn’t even find you. You were sleeping in the shit that night.”

“Oh yeah! How about when you did those body shots with the blonde, and her boyfriend showed up?”

Ethan snapped his fingers. “Yes! He followed me out to the car where I was making out with her and—”

“Threatened you with a shotgun! Thank God I kept an eye on you.”

“Dude, you tackled him. We ran out into the woods—”

“With your bare-naked ass on display.” Kyle tipped his beer back and sighed with sheer joy. “Fucking good times, man.”

“The best.”

Their burgers came and they dug in, talking about their greatest hits.

Yeah. It was going to be a great night.

“Drink, drink, drink, drink—YES!”

The guys bellowed and thumped her back as she finished guzzling. Mia and Harper stared at her with matching worried gazes.

She stepped back. Fought the slight nausea. Then let out a long burp.

Another roar echoed in the air, and she gave the crowd a thumbs-up signal. Mia and Harper gave a whoop and stuck out their palms, collecting on the bet wagered by a bunch of frat boys who’d challenged Ophelia to drink from the funnel without vomiting.

Head spinning a tad, she managed to extricate herself from her new friends, who were now pounding down shots. She headed over to their coveted small table at the end of the bar.

“Fifty bucks!” Mia said, shaking the cash in her hand. “Not bad, especially since the drinks have been free all night.”

Harper hooked her boot heels on the rung of the stool. “That was impressive. I had no idea you still had mad drinking skills.”

Ophelia hiccupped. Then giggled. “Been a long time, so I’m glad I didn’t embarrass myself. Did you see the cute blond checking you out, Harp?”

“Oh yeah! He was into you,” Mia said. “Why don’t you go talk to him?”

Harper snorted. “’Cause he’s barely drinking age, and I’m not a cougar.”