Page 11 of Missing Pieces

I squeeze her hand back. Maybe she is right. Maybe if I make the most of my time here then I will be able to heal when I return to my world. A tear threatens to roll down my cheek. I grab my hand back and wipe it away as nonchalantly as possible.

“Don’t get all sappy on me now!” she exclaims. “This calls for more wine. Too many feelings, more wine!”

I can’t help but relax. She is something else. I grab her glass and a few spare dishes from the table and head into the kitchen. I put the dishes in the dishwasher and go to grab a bottle of wine when I hear whispering from another room. I really don’t mean to pry, okay I do, but I want to know if they are talking about me after that conversation I had with Ivy.

“How is she?” Trace asks.

I hear a sigh and then, “Not good. I don’t know what to do. She won’t listen to me. And that shithead she’s with beat her up again. I can’t…” he sighs. “I can’t leave her with him, but I can’t drag her with me.”

“She’s nearly twenty years old, she doesn’t know what she wants. Shit, we didn’t know what we wanted then.”

“We thought we did,” Easton replies. I can hear him pacing. “But we weren’t slowly killing ourselves.”

“I know you don’t want to do this man, but I think you should take her. Force her to leave. She might not be around next time.”

I hear a fist slam into a wall and hope it didn’t break through the drywall. “I’m not forcing her to do shit. I tried that with Ashton and it didn’t work. I tried with Tacoma and that didn’t work. I can’t lose Rae too.”

I hear Trace sigh. “You didn’t lose either of them. Especially Tacoma. She still talks to you she’s just not here.”

“They are my responsibility,” Easton grumbles, his voice edged with anger.

“Ashton isn’t anymore, neither is Tacoma. Maybe you should-“ I hear Trace start. I quickly grab the wine and walk back outside. I was eavesdropping on something that was none of my business. And it sounded way too complicated for me to get anywhere near involved. I see Ivy has moved from the table over to the lounge chairs looking out over the serene lake. I fall down into the chair next to hers and pour her another glass of wine.

“Took you long enough. Did you get lost or were you making out with Easton?” She asks and takes a big gulp of wine.

“Stop already! It’s not happening,” I giggle. How many glasses have we had?

She sits up abruptly and faces me, spilling wine all over herself. “Ha, you totally want to make-out with him, or you would not have just giggled!”

I don’t know how to answer because I don’t know what to think. On one hand, I am completely done with men, but on the other, I wouldn’t mind giving Easton a shot, he is sexy as hell, and I am sure a few romps with him would make me feel better. Oh god, I think I have had way too much to drink if I am thinking about having sex with someone I just met who has been a flirting asshole all day.

“I think I’ve had too much to drink,” I decide. “Wait, you were supposed to drive me home!” I point at her and scream too loudly again. I hear the guys come back out onto the porch.

Ivy slurs, “I think I-I havvee drinks too many.” I roll my eyes at her because I know she is not that drunk.

Trace laughs and sits next to her, pulling the wine glass away. “Ughhh,” she moans when she can’t reach her glass from his outstretched arm. “I wassss supposseded to drive her hommee.”

“Well, darlin’ the last thing you need to be doing is driving. I don’t even think you’ll make it up the stairs.” She crosses her arms across her chest and pouts. “I’ll take her home.”

She glances at him with anger and then nods her head to Easton. Trace looks up at him and Easton interjects, “You’re already home. I’ll take her.”

Ivy lays it on thick this time, “Ohhh thanksss Easttt you are a liffee saver. I bet you tasstee like the peppermint one.” She slaps her hand over her mouth and starts to giggle.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” Easton says then turns to me. “Ready?”

I nod and stand up glancing down at Ivy and mouth ‘meddler.’ She shrugs her shoulder and laughs. Easton heads around the side of the house toward the drive.

Ivy jumps from her chair and stretches, “Well that went well.”

“You are so dead.”

“Have fun in his truck!”

I could choke her. Instead, I thank them for dinner. I hear Trace laughing at Ivy and saying something about being bad as I walk away. Apparently, he doesn’t care about her damn plotting either.