by Grey, R. S.
He can’t be serious. That stuff happened over a decade ago. “That’s water under the bridge.”
His eyes widen once again like he’s trying to instill some panic in me. “Is it? ’Cause it seems more like a building tidal wave.”
“Andy, Madison and I are just friends,” I insist.
“Oh okay,” he mocks, like he doesn’t believe me for one second. “Then tell me right now you don’t think she’s hot.”
I scowl. “How do you know she is?”
“It’s common knowledge! Where have you been? Madison Hart is hot as shit, but with that dad and brother, you’d have to be a psycho to date her. No man in his right mind would touch that girl with a ten-foot pole.”
I reach for my beer, tip it in his direction as a silent cheers, and then turn for the living room. His warnings are useless. I’m not trying to date Madison, and I’ve come to terms with that. We’re just going to be friends. I swallow that thought like a bitter pill and chase it with my beer.
In the living room, I’m amazed to find that even more people have arrived. I don’t know what Jake was thinking. There have to be a hundred people in here. It makes sense, I guess. Jake grew up living in the rough part of town until his mom remarried, and then he transferred to Saint Andrews for high school. As a result, he knows everyone, and tonight, he’s invited them.
Of course there are a few new additions, boyfriend and girlfriends, recent transplants to our small town, but there’s still a good chance that if I turn in any direction, my gaze with catch on someone I know pretty damn well. Even though I’m hanging off to the side, near the kitchen, trying to stay out of the madness, it still finds me.
I wasn’t always antisocial. It’s just that in recent years, with all the changes that have taken place in my life, it feels phony to put on a fake smile and shoot the shit. I’d rather sip my beer in peace. Usually Andy’s around and he talks enough for the both of us, but he must still be pissed about me refusing to be his wingman because he’s left me to fend for myself out here.
“How’s the firm, Ben?” someone asks.
Growing.
“Are you still renovating that house?” someone else wonders.
Finished it a year ago.
“How’s your mom?”
Dead. Thanks for asking.
Of course I don’t say that. I wait for realization to hit, for their faces to crumple, and then I let them off the hook by asking them a stupid question about their life. Oh cool, you have two kids now? Tell me more about potty training.
It’s never-ending.
Finally, Andy takes pity on me.
“How many people have asked about your mom?” he asks, cutting through the crowd to get to me.
“Five.”
“Why are people such idiots?” he asks, scanning the party, no doubt looking for Arianna. “Is your girl here yet?”
“She’s not my girl, and no.”
I’ve been staring at the door, watching it like a hawk. I’m worried I’m going to bore a hole through it soon. Not that I’ve been incessantly checking my watch or anything, but it’s already close to 9:00. There’s no way she’s coming. I knew I should have picked her up and brought her myself.
“All right, c’mon,” Andy says, clapping me on the back and trying to drag me through the crowd. “There’s a poker game starting up in the dining room. With that mean mug of yours, you’ll come out on top for sure.”
I don’t have a chance to reply because we get sucked into a swell of people. It’s partly my fault for keeping my distance from everyone. I haven’t been out at a party this big in a while, and everyone’s curious to talk to me and catch up. There’s a weird kind of celebrity surrounding me and my family in this town. Growing up, I loved and abused the power. What teenage guy wouldn’t? Now, I could do without it.
There is no way we’re going to make it to the poker game. More than likely, my entire night will be filled with small talk, and if that’s not hell, I don’t know what is. I contemplate stealing the beer from the woman currently blocking my path to the dining room. Becky is her name. She and her friend are flirting with me, but all I want is her beer. I’m eyeing it, and like a schmuck, I realize a little too late that she’s holding it level with her breasts. She thinks I’m staring at her cleavage. Shit.
I’m in a bad mood. Because of Madison. Because she’s not here and she told me she would be.
The noise level increases in the room even more. Becky’s friend elbows her in the side and angles her head toward the door. I follow their gaze just in time to see Colten Hart walk in with a case of beer in hand. He’s with a few of his buddies from the police force, guys I recognize from around town. Then he steps aside and reveals a small brunette standing behind him in a pale blue dress.
She didn’t change after work, but she took her hair down. It’s a wild mess, hanging in loose curls down her back. A few strands fall across her face and when she reaches up to push them behind her ear, my gut clenches.
“Is that Colten’s little sister?” Becky asks, curious.
“No way,” her friend replies. “She never comes to this stuff.”
She laughs. “Colten must have felt bad for her.”
I nearly snarl before I catch myself.
Madison is finally here and looking like an angel.
An angel, I remind myself, who’s decided to fall.
8
Madison
I haven’t seen Ben yet, but I know he’s here, and just the thought sends a shiver down my spine. He’s probably too busy to realize I just walked in the door. Chances are there are enough beautiful women flocked around him to keep him occupied. At this very moment he could be off somewhere with a woman, doing things with her—to her—things I’ve only dreamed about. Or, I tell myself, letting hope flap its wings inside me, he could be watching me right now. He could find me as beautiful and mysterious as I find him, but let’s get real—that’s highly unlikely. If he has seen me arrive, he’s probably assessing my appearance and wondering why the hell I didn’t change out of this silly dress or bother to fix my makeup or maybe, I don’t know, run a freaking brush through my hair. The truth is, it was hard work convincing my brother to bring me. I wasn’t going to make it even worse by strapping myself into a tight dress and sliding on five-inch heels.
Colten came over to eat dinner at the house after I got home from the library. Though I normally try to cook healthy options for my dad, I decided tonight it was better to strategize. I prepared lasagna and fresh garlic bread. I made sure there was a chilled beer waiting for each of them on the table. Also, I pulled Scrabble off the shelf in the hall closet—Colten’s game of choice. We hadn’t been playing for long when he warned us that he wouldn’t be able to stay too late because he had plans. I’d known that moment was coming. I’d thought about it nonstop during dinner. It was why the lasagna was slightly burned and why I was losing so badly at Scrabble (a game I usually won handily).
If I wanted Colten to take me with him to the party, I had to be careful and play it just right.
For starters, I had to sound casual when I asked him where he was headed. Still, he knew right away that something was up. I don’t usually ask about his social life. Even though he’s only a few years older than me, we don’t ever go out together. He never invites me, and I’ve never been brave enough to ask for an invite.
Until now.
“Jake’s party?” I asked, rearranging my Scrabble tiles.
“How’d you know about that?” he asked, frowning.
I tried to seem as if I was concentrating hard on the strategy of the game rather than the strategy of my reply. “My friend at work mentioned it.”
I even added a half-hearted shrug for emphasis.
He seemed skeptical. “Eli?”
“No, someone else. Anyway, I was thinking of going.”
He and my dad studied me intently from across the table. This cavalier suggestion that I would attend the party wasn’t just out of character
for me, it was as if aliens had infiltrated my body and were now using me as a human proxy.
“Think that’s a good idea, kiddo?” my dad asked, sipping his coffee.
I ground my teeth together in annoyance. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Colten played his turn and then replied, “Dad’s right. That sort of scene isn’t the right place for you, Maddie. I’ll take you another time. Hey, Cassie is getting a few people together to go to the Astros game next weekend. Want to come with us?”
A baseball game, really? Was he also going to buy me a little stuffed animal and some ice cream too? He was casting me aside. They both were. I was used to them handling me with kid gloves since they’d done it my whole life, but surely this was taking it too far.
“I’d like to go to the party,” I said, glancing up at Colten and making sure my features didn’t seem overly eager. “It could be fun.”
He and my dad exchanged a worried glance. They were about to forbid me from going, as if I still had to abide by their rules at twenty-five years old.
“I’m going, Colten,” I said, suddenly shooting to my feet and accidentally knocking my hip into the table. My Scrabble tiles went flying and my dad’s coffee lapped over the edge of his mug. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I hadn’t caused a scene on purpose, but it still left me looking like a petulant child.
“Fine, Maddie. I’ll take you, but we’re only going to stay for a little while. I have an early shift tomorrow.”
I should have told him that didn’t matter. I didn’t have work in the morning. I could stay at the party as long as I wanted, but I was getting my way, and I didn’t think I needed to push my luck.
I have a complicated relationship with my family. My mom passed away soon after I was born from hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, which is a fancy name for a heart problem no one even knew about, so it’s only ever been the three of us: my dad, Colten, and me. My brother was already six when I was born, and he was fiercely protective even then. Apparently, when we would go to the playground as kids, he’d hold my hand and help me up the stairs and down the slide. He wouldn’t let bigger kids get within ten feet of me and always made sure everyone knew he was my big brother, there to defend me if anyone got in my way.
In my eyes, I had an idyllic childhood. My dad took Colten and me fishing and camping and hiking. I was outside most of summer and by the end, when school would start up again, I’d have calloused feet, a smattering of freckles across my cheeks, and a few new scars to show off to my friends.
Looking back, I’m not sure when my relationship with them became stifling, but I can see the wrong turns I took. I didn’t move out when I was eighteen. I stayed home and commuted to college. After I got my degree, Dad had just had a mild stroke. It was nothing major, but I didn’t feel comfortable leaving him alone in the house, so I stayed. My dad hasn’t had another stroke in three years, but I still live in my childhood bedroom. I’m under my dad’s thumb and Colten’s protective shield. They mean well. They love me as fiercely as I love them, but it can’t continue like this.
Something has to change, starting tonight.
* * *
The party is a little more packed than I expected it to be. Full of beautiful people dressed to the nines, the house is also a lot nicer than I expected. When I heard it was a house party, I pictured plastic red cups and beer pong in someone’s dingy basement. I forget sometimes how high the wealth soars in Clifton Cove. Jake’s house looks like he pulled it right out of the pages of Architectural Digest. It’s metal and glass and hard lines, all designed to showcase the breathtaking views of the water. The sun has already set, but the moon is high and full enough to illuminate the lapping waves crashing on the shore a few yards beyond his house.
He’s done well for himself. My brother told me on the way over that Jake manages a hedge fund. With that on top of his family money, it seems he’ll never want for anything in life. I wonder what that would feel like.
We’re still hovering near the door. My brother, while not exactly touching me, is still making it perfectly clear that he wants me to stay by his side. I might as well have a collar around my neck. He keeps glancing over at me, making sure I’m doing okay. We’re standing in a circle of his friends as they talk about things I really don’t care about. Someone offers me a drink, and Colten chastises him.
His friend laughs. “Last I checked, she’s not a little kid anymore, Colt.”
My brother shrugs off his remark and turns to me, giving in. “You want something to drink, Maddie? I’ll get it for you.”
I look down at the beer in his hand and scrunch my nose. I don’t drink alcohol all that often, but I know enough to pass on the cheap stuff. A few of the women are carrying around flutes of champagne. It feels wildly ridiculous in a setting like this, but then I realize maybe it fits perfectly and the only thing out of place is me.
“I’ll take some champagne,” I say, smiling.
Colten’s friend, Ryan, jumps into action. “I’ll go get you some, Madison.”
“Just bring the bottle,” Colten demands, catching my eye once again. “Never let a guy fix you a drink unless you watch him do it, even Ryan.”
“I heard that, you asshole,” Ryan shouts over his shoulder.
Colten and his friends lapse back into talk about the Astros’ early season, and I give myself the first opportunity to glance around the party and look for Ben. I’m disappointed he hasn’t approached me yet. I wanted him to be pacing at the door, wild with anxiety over whether or not I’d make an appearance tonight.
Of course that’s not the case. It doesn’t take me long to find him. All I have to do is follow the line of adoring fans, the sycophants waiting anxiously for their turn to talk to the king.
He’s dangerously attractive tonight in a white shirt underneath an army green fatigue jacket. His dark jeans and brown suede boots are so effortlessly cool. Of course the whole outfit only works so well because of his tall frame and broad shoulders. His thick hair is styled back away from his face, and his features are more severe than they’ve ever seemed before. I study him intently, realizing I’ve never had the chance to observe him like this. He has a face for fury, an underlying arrogance that could cut straight through you if he wanted it to. His only saving grace is the light amber color of his eyes. They soften him. A little.
His circle of friends makes up the epicenter of the party. While the women here are all beautifully made up, the ones surrounding him are the glitziest of the bunch. Their dresses are daring and hug their tantalizing figures perfectly. I watch two of them edge closer to him, vying for his attention at the exact moment his gaze finally lifts to meet mine. He doesn’t look surprised in the least. In fact, it’s like he’s been aware I was watching him this whole time. If I had any sense, I’d look away now, but it’s like he has me on the end of his hook, caught.
One of his brows rises gently. There’s no smile or wave to accompany it.
I turn away right when Ryan returns with the bottle of champagne and uncorks it ceremoniously in the middle of our group. Everyone cheers and I know Ben is still glancing over here, watching—or maybe I’m just hoping he is. Ryan pours a hefty amount of champagne into a plastic cup for me. I guess I don’t seem fancy enough for a crystal flute.
“Cheers to Madison and Colt,” he says, and another friend chimes in, “He finally let her out of the house for a change!”
Everyone laughs good-naturedly, even Colten. I make a show of smiling even though it hurts to be the butt of the joke. We tap our cups and glasses together and then I take a gulp of champagne, aware of how badly in need of the liquid courage I am. Colten’s hand hits my arm and his reproaching glare sends a fissure of annoyance through me.
“Slow down, sis,” he says, loudly enough for our entire group to hear.
A few people chuckle and poke fun at how protective he is, but my patience is dwindling fast. I only came to this party because Ben asked me to, but there’s no way Colten will let me out of his
sight long enough to actually have a chance to talk to him. Even if I did break free, there’s no way I’d be able to fight my way through his horde of admirers—not that I’d even want to. Maybe he only invited me here tonight out of courtesy, or worse…pity. I think back to the way I unloaded my life on him in the library. I rambled on, forcing an ultimatum upon a man I hardly know. My cheeks are two hot flames. I can’t believe I did that. At the time, it felt daring, like I was finally taking control and steering things in the direction of my choosing. Now, it feels silly, pathetic. What kind of person enlists a total stranger to help her lose her virginity?
Oh my god. The entire idea of it slams into me like a Mack truck. I need to sit down or throw up. I glance around, trying to find a piece of furniture within reach in case I need it, but Jake’s taken everything out of the living room so there’s more space for people to gather.
I’m stuck standing unless I want to try to lean against that fancy modern sculpture of a hand over near the fireplace. Where are the folding chairs?! The card tables covered in plastic tablecloths?
I tug on Colten’s arm. “I’m going to use the bathroom,” I announce, not waiting for him to protest before I break away from the group and turn down a side hallway. The line is ten people deep and I don’t actually have to go, so there’s no point in standing there. Besides, if I’m gone that long, Colten will assume I’ve been abducted.
I start down another hallway that looks promising, telling myself I have a good five minutes before I have to return to my overbearing chaperone. I pass a bedroom and a home gym. At the end of the hall, I peek past a doorway and am inspecting the inside of a library that makes my heart pitter patter with jealousy when a cool, hard voice speaks behind me.
“The library’s off limits.”
I turn and jump out of my skin, my free hand flying to my chest. I manage to save most of my champagne from landing on Jake’s polished black wood floors by absorbing it all into the front of my dress. Wonderful. I can see the outline of my lacy bra.
