by JL Mac
The woman I had pressed against my body last night makes seventeen-year-old Rae look like a ten-year-old boy. The same body turned to sex on legs. The same body I’ve had on my arm off and on all evening for wedding photos and the actual ceremony, that woman is a certified bombshell, a centerfold. She’s definitely overtly sexy now. The girl whose body I held in my shaky hands as a teen had slight hips that were only marginally flared. Now, those same hips and ass are generous and full and force her to walk with a natural sway that leaves people gawking.
On that subject, if Chick doesn’t stop staring at Rae, I’ll gut him like a pig fit for the spit. I slap the back of my hand hard against his chest and he splutters forward laughing around the neck of his beer bottle. “Knock it off fucker,” I growl. He raises one hand in mock surrender.
“Don’t worry I’m not tryin’ to steal your girl. I was, after all, the one who called to tell you she was passed out, drooling on my couch right?”
“Yeah, yeah, I owe you,” I mutter without taking my eyes off Rae dancing with her dad. “But if you don’t stop eye fucking her, best friend or not, I’ll make you wish you had.”
“Can you blame me though?” he asks lightheartedly and gives a disbelieving shake of his head. “I should have taken her to Junior High prom, dammit.” He says quietly.
“No way was that going to happen,” I scoff.
“Yeah well, you can’t blame me for staring.” And he’s right; I can’t blame him at all. Hell, every set of eyes in this room has followed her around the place, admiring her look, her style, her class and refined grace like she’s some kind of alien. She’s a goddamn new Lamborghini in a salvage yard. It’s hard to believe she used to be one of us—one of Palmetto’s own. If she knows she’s the focus of everyone around her, she doesn’t seem to notice or behave any differently. Or maybe she’s just gotten that damn good at acting or hell maybe I just don’t know my girl like I did back then. That thought makes a stab of pain zip through my gut like a gunshot.
How the hell did we end up like this?
I need to get her alone again to ask her the questions that have been burning a hole in my brain for the last decade. Thankfully my mom and her mom already have that sorted out on my behalf. When all else fails, ask Rae’s momma. She never could tell me no and I truly could use Rae’s expertise. A little professional help is the least she can do after ripping my heart out and tossing it in a wood chipper.
“Want another?” Chick asks snapping me out of my thoughts even if only for a moment.
“Yeah, thanks man,” I nod at Chick.
Rae’s dad twirls her and her face lights up like I remember. But she not only looks different, she acts different, smells different, just is different. I have to entertain the possibility that maybe I don’t know her anymore but my gut tells me not everything about Rae is genuine. I think my girl is blowing smoke up everyone’s ass and I’m determined to find out why and what she’s hiding from the world. I don’t even know if I can tolerate who she has become for long but I plan to find out.
Flashes of the wedding I was so sure we’d have stream through my mind like clips from a movie that never released. Back then I had imagined we’d be married young. As foolish as it would have been if I could have I think I would have married her the minute we both turned eighteen but that’s not how it all played out. The Universe dealt me a shitty hand, and I played it the best I could but it didn’t matter in the end because I went all in and The House won. I still lost the only person I have ever wanted—needed.
To make it all worse, I have never gotten a solid explanation from her I could believe. Sometimes, when it hurts more than it should considering how long it has been, I find myself hating her because hating her is a lot less painful than loving her all these years later. Hell maybe I should spend as much time with her as I can and let her sour personality remedy me of all desire for her. Maybe she will be rotten enough to make me forget how much I loved her then and against my will still love her now.
My love for Rae is twofold and so is the gaping hole she left in my life. She was my best friend, my sidekick, and the girl I wanted to attach my last name to. I wanted to share my life with her, my home, I wanted babies… I wanted it all. Sometimes I still can’t believe that it all came undone so abruptly. Our relationship was a beautiful tapestry with a single errant thread. The thread was tugged and our love unraveled in an unceremonious heap. We fell apart just as suddenly and violently as we had fallen in love—a love that I haven’t felt since. Not since my Snow.
Sylas
16 years old…
“Hey dad,” I huff out of breath as I wrap up my run, coming to a stop on top of the porch. Dad’s sitting in his Adirondack chair reading one of those crime thriller books he loves so much.
“Hey, son,” he says tipping his chin down to look at me over his frameless reading glasses. “Already conditioning for lifeguard duty this summer?”
“Um, yeah,” I say trying to hide my smile but it’s no use.
“Or is there a girl you’re trying to impress?”
“Mom told you?” I ask tugging my sweat dampened tee shirt up over my head.
“Mhmm. Sit,” he says motioning his head to the chair next to him. I do as I’m told and wait for a lecture. I can feel it coming on. “You like Rae?”
“Yeah, of course.” I say with a shrug.
“Son, do you like Rae?” he asks emphasizing his words. I pick at the damp T-shirt sitting in my lap and think about his question but it doesn’t require much thought for me to answer him honestly.
“I do.”
“Because you need to decide if you like her because she’s hard to get or if you like her for her. Don’t play games with her head that her heart can’t take.”
“I get it. I care for Rae. I tease her a lot but I would never do anything to hurt her,” I vow, meaning it.
“Good because Teddy would come home on leave and kill you and I’d be tempted to allow him to. Now go get cleaned up. No girl I’ve ever met wants to go on a date with a guy that smells like a wet dog.” He flicks his hand, shooing me away. I laugh clapping him on the back on my way in the house.
“So, I’m here,” Rae shrugs one shoulder. “I’m holding up my end of the bargain. Now, where are we going?” she asks as she tugs the seatbelt over her body, clipping it.
“My favorite, most secret place,” I answer grinning as I reverse my Jeep out of her driveway. “Your momma is watchin’,” I chuckle loving how her fair cheeks are turning a darker shade of pink the minute she spots her mom staring out at us. Rae groans and sinks down into her seat.
“Are your parents making this just as weird as my parents are?” she whispers.
“Nah. I think they like the idea of us dating each other.”
“Pump your brakes, Romeo. Who says I’m going to make this a habit with you?”
“I do,” I wink at her and point my Jeep in the direction of the hidden bayou.
“The baseball fields?” she mumbles questioningly.
“Wait for it,” I say off-roading a little as we trail over the walking path that runs along the perimeter of the baseball complex. We drive between two copses of trees, through the grass and around the backside of those same thick clusters of trees. The thicket is a mix of swamp pine, magnolias and oak trees that all provide heavy cover for my little hiding place.
If Rae’s gasp is any indication, I’ve succeeded in surprising her. “What is this place?” she says almost to herself. We both get out of my Jeep. I take the picnic basket with me and stand facing the narrow inlet of water off the bayou. An addictive, warm feeling consumes me seeing how I have successfully surprised her. She’s beautiful, but she’s really stunning when she’s filled with wonder.
“This is my secret hangout. I come here to relax and think sometimes.” I shrug suddenly a little shy which is weird as hell for me. I’m never shy. “Come on,” I say grabbing her hand. I walk through the semi tall salt grass taking her about thirty yards to the
water’s edge where there is a small, likely ancient fishing dock that should not be trusted under foot. “Don’t try the dock. Pretty sure it’s a deathtrap,” I say checking out the rickety worn planks.
“We should fix it,” she volunteers and I can’t help the warm feeling bubbling up inside me.
“We should,” I nod, smiling. “I’ll make you a deal,” I say as I get to work laying out the blanket I brought with me.
“You and your deals,” she mutters dubiously.
“Help me fix the dock and I’ll share my secret spot with you,” I offer smugly.
“Isn’t this public land? I don’t see your name anywhere,” she says glancing around with a smirk lifting her full pink lips. “I can come here if I want to. Free country.” She folds her arms with a proud lopsided smile. An idea snaps into place and I drop the picnic basket on the blanket and march back to my jeep.
“Hey! Where are you going?” she calls after me.
I don’t respond as I rummage through the glove compartment for the Swiss Army Knife Steve gave me for my thirteenth birthday. I snag the tool and march to the biggest tree, closest to the water. It leans toward the water slightly since the prevailing wind curling off the bayou has trained its trunk that way. I peek over at Rae who is stubbornly refusing to follow me.
I pry the flathead screwdriver blade, folding it out from its hiding place within the multi-tool then I get to work. After ten minutes of carving on the massive magnolia tree Rae’s curiosity overrules her determination to not play into my hands. She gets up and walks briskly to join me at the tree.
Her eyes bug out and she gasps when she see the crudely shaped heart carved into the tree around Rae + Sy. “You! Why d’you do that?” she demands tracing over the carving with her fingertips.
“Because we’re going to be together,” I state.
“That’s awful presumptive of you Sylas Broussard.” She fusses as her face steadily turns redder and redder. The apple of her cheeks practically glows when she’s pissed off at me.
“I don’t think it’s presumptive at all. In fact I think it’s just right. Face it Snow, we are inevitable,” I shrug nonchalantly.
“I don’t think so,” she clips but her normal amount of gusto is absent.
“Well it’s there now isn’t it so what do you say we just see how it ages?”
“See how it ages? You are… you are…” she stutters adorably.
“On a date with the most beautiful girl I know,” I say truthfully as I reach out and tuck a lock of her beautiful ink-black hair behind one of her ears. I want to run my hands through her soft strands but I won’t push my luck on the first date. “Let’s eat, you can get mad later if you’re still set on it,” I say grabbing her hand again. “Oh and my deal about fixing the dock still stands. Help me fix it up and you can come enjoy my secret spot any time you want.”
“And I stand by what I said. This property isn’t yours. Your name isn’t on…” she trails off and cuts her eyes right through me. I just smile and point over her shoulder toward the tree I Just carved my name into right along with hers.
“It has both our names on it now,” I say then pop a potato chip in my mouth. “It’s ours just like the iPod.” I barely have time to swallow the chip before Rae launches herself at me across the blanket. She throws half-hearted punches at my chest but I’m laughing too hard to care. She pummels me, thrashing like a banshee. I grip her wrists halting her movement but she’s in my lap still straddling my hips. I lick my lips and look up at her wanting very badly to kiss her. She freezes in my hands, looking at me like I’m a fascinating, previously undiscovered bug that just landed in front of her. “I share the music, my favorite place, I’d share everything with you, Rae,” I say looking into her clear blue eyes. She wrinkles her brows as though she doesn’t understand what I just said. “Why me?”
“Rae, I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather share my world with. Just you,” I explain as best I can. I’m no poet but I hope she gets what I mean. She pins her bottom lip between her teeth and remains in my lap for several more seconds before snapping out of it. She scurries off my lap and back to her side of the picnic blanket where she eats the picnic dinner I packed for her. A turkey sandwich with cheese.
Chapter 10
Raegan
The minute Dad deposits me back into my seat I spot Sylas standing beside Chick the traitor with his eyes locked on me. Still. He’s been staring at me all evening. He strides to my table like he owns the place and I smirk at him with my arms crossed over my chest. I’m not a teen girl anymore and I refuse to play his games.
“Dance?” he asks with his big hand outstretched toward me, his palm up.
“No thanks.” I snag my glass of champagne and drain it. Holding back the grimace I want to make. The champagne isn’t great and if I’m not careful, I’ll be hung over for the second time this trip. The first time was plenty.
“Not a request doll face. Get your fancy ass up and dance with me or I’m humiliating you in front of everyone here. I promised to deliver one hell of a toast you know?” He cocks his head slightly and lifts one brow challengingly. His smug smile firmly in place.
“You won’t,” I whisper dubiously.
“And yet you know I definitely will. Let’s go.” He ticks his fingers with his hand still outstretched.
“You’re an ass,” I grit out.
“Been called worse.”
“I’m not in any mood to dance with you,” I snap hating that he gets under my skin so easily.
“One dance and then I’ll leave you alone. Here’s your opportunity to show everyone that we are civilized with each other. Even if it is a lie,” he suggests. I think back to yesterday in the dressing room when Ellie confessed that Sy was in the wedding party. I’d claimed to be completely fine with Sylas. I grit my teeth.
“Feel like cuttin’ a deal?”
“You and your stupid deals,” I mutter rolling my eyes.
“I need something from you—in a professional capacity,” he clarifies. “And if you still hate me and want nothing to do with me by the time it ends, I’ll give it up. You’ll never have to hear from me or see me again. I’ll leave you alone forever. Just give me a hand first.”
A little hidden part of my heart seizes and crows in pain at the notion of Sylas Broussard leaving me alone forever. He hasn’t let me be since fifth grade. Even in my own little part of the country, miles and miles away from him, he doesn’t leave me alone. He’s always there in my mind in some capacity or another.
“Professional capacity?” I look up at him fully and love how much taller he’s grown since the last time I saw him.
“I need you to stay here for a bit and help me with a charity event I’m hosting.”
“Stay for a bit?” I stutter. “Sylas, I have a life, a job to get back to. I can’t just slack off in Louisiana for however long.”
“It’s for a good cause, Rae and anyway your momma already volunteered you to help me,” he smiles triumphantly. Her needing to speak to me about something makes sense now. I swivel my head, looking for her. When my eyes land on her I scowl and she looks only a touch sheepish as she shrugs then nods while making a shooing motion with her hands.
“I can’t,” I insist.
“You can and you should. It’s for charity and if memory serves me right, the Rae you used to be was very happy to help others. Can’t you be selfless anymore?”
“I’m plenty selfless,” I insist, more than a little incensed that he has implied that I’m not generous.
Self-Loathing harrumphs loudly. Negativity guffaws. Practicality makes a “meh” expression. Well, fuck them. I hate my inner circle and the dumbass grief counselor that encouraged me to invent it.
“Then prove it. Give me one dance to convince you to help me out with this and if I haven’t succeeded by the end of the song, I’ll leave you alone.”
“Fine. Deal,” I say placing my hand in his and if the current of electricity coursing between us is any
indication, I’m about to lose my ass on this deal. He swings me outward onto the dance floor with a flourish then yanks me roughly back to him, our bodies kissing for only a moment before I withdraw a few inches. The notes of a song I can’t place begin to dictate our pace and movement and for a moment I am seventeen again and shocked that Sylas is such a good dancer, a gift imparted by his momma and daddy. They are both excellent dancers and even competed in their younger days. They made Sylas and Sylvie and Steven learn to dance from a young age. How had I forgotten? What else have I forced out of my mind?
“Come fishing with me tomorrow,” he declares more than asks.
“I…” I try and fail to think of a single good excuse on the fly. My brain is off kilter in his presence but actually touching him turns the gray goo between my ears into ghost-like vapor. My mind is hopping from present and alert to lost in memories. I feel like the poster girl for Ginkgo Biloba at present. This is what Sylas does to me. My brain switches to dumb-mode. With me stuck on stupid, he presses me closer to him and I allow it. He smells intoxicatingly good, he feels even better. My heart stumbles over itself. My brain is a whirl of thoughts and feelings but my feet, my body, they remember him well and we move together as though we had never stopped. It’s a realization that sets my hands to trembling.
“Why are you shaking, Rae?” he asks.
