Sin With Me

32

When they’re gone, Barney murmurs, “What’s up, Angelface?”

“Life. Life is up.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

He’s wearing some kind of spicy cologne. It’s light, sexy, and smells expensive. I stare at him for a long time, trying to decide if it would be a good idea to tell him the truth or not, when out of my mouth comes something so unexpected it takes us both by surprise.

“Have you ever been in love?”

He c***s his head. A roguish dimple appears in his cheek. “Close to it right now, as a matter of fact.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m being serious, Barney. I need advice.”

He studies me in silence for a moment, and then moves next to me so we’re standing shoulder to shoulder, staring out together at the party from our spot in the long shadows of a thicket of scarlet bougainvillea cascading over a wall.

In a low voice that I can barely hear over the music and the sounds of laughter and people talking, he says, “Once.”

In those four letters I hear an ocean of pain. I know that whatever happened, it wasn’t good.

“So you wouldn’t recommend it then.”

Surprised, he looks at me. “Yes, I definitely would.”

I meet his eyes. “But . . . maybe I have it wrong, but it sounded like, um, it didn’t end well.”

Barney swallows. With a tight jaw, he says, “It didn’t. She died.”

“Oh God, Barney,” I breathe, devastated. “I’m so sorry. I’m such an i***t. I apologize for bringing it up—”

“You couldn’t have known. And don’t be sorry. I don’t regret it. Not for a minute. Before she died, I was the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”

I stare at him, dumbfounded, a wreck of warring emotions. “And now?”

He looks off into the distance. His profile is handsome and incredibly sad. He says softly, “And now I have amazing memories. And now I still think I was lucky.” He inhales a slow breath, lets it out, briefly closes his eyes. “And now I’m a better man for having loved her.”

He’s killing me. I’m going to drop dead right here on this perfect patch of lawn and they’ll have to cart my corpse off on a stretcher.

He looks over at me, sees the expression on my face, and sighs. “Love isn’t something you choose, Angelface. It chooses you. And even if it only lasts a little while, it’s worth it. Even if it ends in flames, it’s worth it. Even if it cuts out your heart and leaves you a bruised, bloody mess, it’s worth it.”

My voice cracks when I ask, “Why?”

He lifts a shoulder and sends me a small, pained smile. “Because it’s love. Love is the only thing that really matters in this life. Love is everything.”

I moan and cover my face with my hands.

“Hey.” Barney puts his arms around me and pulls me against his chest. It’s not romantic, it’s friendly, and I’m grateful for the support. He asks quietly, “Who you trying not to fall in love with, Angelface?”

Then—because life has decided kicking me when I’m down would be good for shits and giggles—Brody’s tense voice comes from behind us.

“Grace.”

Barney and I break apart.

Brody has changed from the shorts and T-shirt he was wearing before into a black button-down shirt and a pair of tight black jeans. The shirt is rolled up his forearms and open halfway down his chest, exposing an intricate tattoo, angel’s wings and something written in script I can’t make out because the light is behind him.

He looks at me, looks at Barney, then looks back at me. I can’t tell where Barney is looking because I’m too busy being floored by the expression on Brody’s face, which hovers somewhere between horror and despair, with a side order of bitter jealousy.

Brody says, “I just wanted to let you know we’re gonna play a set, if you wanted to come stand up front . . .” He looks at Barney again. A muscle in his jaw flexes. “Or not.”

“Yes!” I blurt. “I do want!”

They both look at me. No one says anything. Heat scorches a path up my neck to my face.

Holding Brody’s gaze, I add with more composure, “I mean, I would love to. Yes. Thank you for asking.”

Barney scratches his head. “Right. Well, uh, I think I see Nico over there waving at me.” He walks off abruptly without another word.

Brody folds his arms over his chest. Then he drags a hand through his hair. Then he scrubs his hands over his face and groans.

You are a tiger. You are a lion. You were given this life because you’re strong enough to live it.

I gather all my courage and decide to jump off that cliff that’s right in front of me.

In a quiet voice I say, “It’s not Barney. It’s not Marcus. It’s not anyone else, either. It’s you.”

Brody’s head snaps up. He stares at me, his lips parted, his body tensed, his gorgeous green eyes shining with need.

I take a steadying breath and continue. “You were right when you said I was afraid. I’ve gone skydiving and hang gliding and bungee jumping and climbed the highest summit of Mount f*****g Kilimanjaro during an ice storm with a guide named Rooster who was drunk the entire time, and I’ve never been as scared of anything as I am of this thing I feel for you.

“I’m not ready to start . . . whatever this is.