Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)(97)

Shane raised his eyebrows at me. “If you say so,” he shrugged and joined his friends in the limo.

And as I lifted one leg into the car, I took another second to look back at the hotel. It surprised me that Shane doubted that Lily would include Mary in their evening. I briefly wondered if maybe I was wrong. But as I sat in the limousine and shut the door, I knew I wasn’t.

***

The Last Out was new to Atlantic City, though its New York City counterpart had been open for five years. It had been founded by a few former Major League Baseball players and catered to a wealthier crowd. It was a nice diversion from the throng of twenty-somethings thrashing around to techno music that most of the other clubs attracted. This one, while definitely a nightclub that encouraged drinking and dancing, did so in a way that made you feel like you didn’t have to keep touching your back pocket to make sure your wallet hadn’t been stolen.

We’d been there for about two and a half hours, and the throbbing of the bass was starting to make my head pulse with it. The three Gospel writers, as Lily had called them, were much wilder than their namesakes. And teamed up with Ben, they were like kids strung out on Pop Rocks trying to attract girls by being as vulgar as possible.

“You wanna place a bet on which one gets slapped first?” Shane twisted his head toward me so that I could hear him over the music.

“They’re your friends. You have me at a disadvantage on that one.”

“Sometimes I have a hard time believing that I used to be out there with them.”

I raised my eyebrows at him, which caused him to bark out a laugh.

“Okay, well maybe I was never quite on the level they’re currently operating on, but I was still in the general vicinity.”

I smiled as I toyed with the beer bottle in my hands.

“I just . . . I dunno, man. One day I looked at Amanda and everything changed for me. I didn’t want to be that guy anymore.” Shane gestured toward his friends.

“You didn’t want to be a skank magnet anymore?” I smirked.

“Exactly,” he grinned, the first full smile I’d seen on him since we’d left the hotel.

“I get that, man. Wanting to change for a girl. Wanting to be better. I had a similar conversion not too long ago.”

“Oh, I bet ya did. Mary seems like the kind of woman who would make any guy wanna get his shit together.”

I huffed out a small laugh before responding seriously. “Yeah, Mary.” I took a drink of my beer. “Straightened me right out.” I didn’t bother to correct him. To tell him that Mary hadn’t caused my conversion. That there was only one woman who held that kind of power in my life. “I can’t say Amanda straightened me out, but she caused me to . . . I dunno, want to be a better person, I guess. God, I had to fight so hard for her to give me the f*cking time of day. Every time I felt like I’d made some progress with her, she’d shut me out. And just when I thought I didn’t have an ounce of fight left in me—that I was better off just letting her go and moving on—I decided to give it one last shot.” As he looked over at me, his face lit up like the strip of casinos outside. “And she shut me out again.” He started laughing at the memory like it was one of his childhood favorites.

I was about to ask him how much he’d had to drink because there was no way getting rejected should ever be remembered quite this fondly. But before I got the words out, he returned his focus to me, his face growing serious.

“I got to lay it all out though. That last time, I told her exactly what I wanted, what I knew we could be together. She was honking her horn like a lunatic outside of my gym less than twenty four hours later.” He smiled again at the memory, but it was softer this time. More emotional. “I almost didn’t go to her that night. Thought of a million and a half reasons why I should just leave her be. But then I finally thought of a reason to go. And that was the only reason that mattered.”

I looked at him expectantly, needing him to finish the story he’d started.

“I loved her. And that was more than enough reason for me to risk my pride, my sanity, everything. There’s no happiness for me without her. Because she’s the only thing that makes me truly happy.” He sat there for a moment, contemplative. Finally, he pulled out his phone and started texting wildly.

I didn’t need to ask who he was writing to. After a few minutes, he stood. “Hey, umm, this is going to be a total dick move, but I gotta go.”

I shook my head and slapped him on the shoulder. “I get it, man. Go get your girl.”

“Thanks, Max. Tell the guys I’ll catch up with all of you tomorrow.”

I nodded. He made it three feet from me before I called out to him. “Shane!”

He turned and looked at me, his entire stature lighter than it had been in hours.

“The love? It got you past all the bullshit? Made enduring all of that . . . worth it?”

His grin widened. “For the right one, it’ll always be worth it.”

I slunk back into my seat and nodded at him. Watching him race out of the club, on his way to the one person, the only person, who could make him happy, I wondered: what the hell do I do now?

***

I had been up for over an hour, just staring at her. She had already been in bed asleep when I got back to the room, and she had barely moved a muscle all night. She was gorgeous, even rumpled from a long night and a deep sleep. I knew that Mary would do everything in her power to make me happy. That together we’d try to carve out a life that we could be proud of.