by Scott, S. L.
All she cares about is my virginity, so maybe I just get it out of the way at the very beginning. Do I climb to the top of the house and shout it from the rooftop? “I’m no longer a virgin.”
Or do I casually say, “Pass the canapés and, by the way, my cherry has been popped.”
“My vote is for the latter,” Stascia says.
My face heats. “Oh my God. I thought I was talking to myself.”
Coming to stand behind me, I look up from the vanity and into her eyes reflected in the mirror. With her hands on my shoulders, she smiles. “It will be okay. Dare’s amazing, and you can see how much he cares about you. Everyone will see it and adore him too. Except maybe Lloyd. But he’s an asshole, so there’s that.”
I start laughing. “He is and thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. Friends support each other through thick and thin. If anyone gives you trouble, send them to me to handle.”
I’m still giggling. She the least confrontational person I know, so that’s how I know she means what she says. “Your bravery is shining through.”
“What was it you told me last night? Own your dreams? Part of owning mine is helping others achieve theirs.”
There’s nothing I can say better than how she said it, so I lighten the mood. “I think I’ll mention the loss of my virginity on a need-to-know basis. I won’t shove it in their faces. I mean, really? I haven’t lost all sense of decorum.”
“I’d love it if you did, though.” She slips on her shoes, and then says, “I’ll see you out there.”
Looking in the mirror, I try to read my own eyes. There’s something locked in there that is keeping me from being totally free. Although this isn’t it, I do think I should tell Dare. I don’t want to keep any secrets—big or small.
He won’t care, but it’s important to me that he knows that I gave him more than my trust. I guess that’s why it matters. Once it’s given, it can’t be re-gifted. It ties me to him forever in a way I think he would like. I’ve never once regretted it and am in awe that I will always share this with him. I hope this speaks to his heart as much as it does mine.
I text him, not able to hold in my excitement.
Me: I can’t wait to see you again.
Dare: It’s three hours.
Me: Three hours too long if you ask me.
Dare: I’m always asking you. I can’t wait to see you either. We’re leaving in thirty. If you don’t recognize me, I’ll be the one with the googly starstruck eyes.
Laughing, I type: I’ve seen that look a million times, babe.
Dare: LOL. I’ll be the one in black then.
Me: Sounds sexy.
Dare: I’ll show you sexy after the party.
Me: Like I said, I can’t wait.
With that, I feel ready to start this party. I head downstairs and go straight to the bar. April finds me fast. “Where have you been hiding the past couple of weeks?”
“I’ve been spending a lot of time in bed.”
Dare’s hands all over me.
Tongue scraping across my chest.
Mouth between my legs and on my lips.
His humongous—Two fingers snap in my face. “Earth to Weatherly.”
“I’m right here.” Physically, but my mind is still thinking about how he’s going to show me sexy after the party.
We both pick up a glass of white wine, and she scopes the grounds. “Nice party. Congrats on graduation.”
“Thank you.”
Her eyes dart around my face, investigating every freckle and mark I have as if it’s been years since she’s seen me. I feel so different from a month ago, so I understand her reaction. And then I don’t when she says, “I thought you’d be different after you graduated law school, but I see some things never change.”
I nod, looking her directly in the eyes. “You’re right. Some things never do.”
My mom joins us, kissing me on each cheek. “So proud of you, honey.”
April takes the opportunity to leave, and I let her. “Thanks, Mom. For everything,” I say, waving a hand toward the event. The sun hasn’t set, but the house keeps us shaded. “It’s beautiful. I love the lanterns and lights.”
“It turned out perfect.” Her eyes light up. “Ooh. The Yorkes are here.” She dashes off to greet the guests.
I look around. The party is mostly their friends and my dad’s business associates. Stascia grabs my arm, and says, “Come on. Let’s do this together.”
We walk around to the other side of the pool to the crew as they’ve always been called—Lloyd’s friends and mine—but with every step, I can feel how the dynamic has changed. I’ll be polite, but I don’t intend to spend much time with them.
Everyone is laughing when we approach the bar. April and Lloyd are off to the side together in a heated conversation. “Hi,” I say, curious to what they’re talking about.
April looks miserable as if I interrupted more than a casual conversation. Lloyd’s an ass, so I don’t care about him. She stares at me with an unreadable emotion. Is it hate? Anger? Sorrow? Pain?
“What’s wrong?”
Lloyd snaps, “Nothing. Where have you been?”
“None of your business,” I reply, amused by his annoyance.
“You haven’t been taking my calls.”
I nod. “That’s what broken up means.”
He huffs in anger, looking up at the sky. “You’re acting erratic just as I told your dad.”
Shock engulfs me. “Erratic? It’s called happy, Lloyd. It’s hard to recognize, I know, but it’s what I am. Happier than I’ve ever been.”
I start laughing, but when April’s eyebrows rise, I follow her gaze behind me.
She asks, “Who is that?”
With happiness read in her eyes, Stascia says, “Oh my!”
When I look behind me and I see why they’re gawking. “Tattooed god.”
Dressed in head to toe black, he’s not only looking dapper in a tie and dress pants, but holy hell, he’s hot. The man in black casually strolling across the lawn puts Johnny Cash to shame. Not to discount the rest of the band because not only do their personalities shine through, but they just injected a whole new level of energy into this stuffy party.
English is wearing a pink polo with the collar popped, tucked into plaid golf pants. Lennox looks great in black pants, a white shirt, and skinny tie. It fits his personality that I’ve seen—subdued, but cool.
Leave it to somebody named Romeo to pull off a royal blue suit and white shirt in a sea of gray. All are wearing sunglasses, and I think every woman here is staring . . . the men too. Especially Lloyd.
April asks, “Your dad hired a band?”
In the next breath, Lloyds asks, “Who the fuck is that?”
They are a sight to behold, and my smile grows as a shiver of giddiness runs through me. “That’s my boyfriend.”
29
Dare
Fifteen minutes prior . . .
Romeo is texting in the back seat next to me, while upfront, English gives Lennox a hard time about his clean car. I whack him on the arm and add my two cents. “Since when did we start complaining about Lennox’s cleaning habits? Keep it up and you’re going to be scrubbing the toilet.”
English pats Len’s shoulder. “Dare’s right. Thanks, man. Don’t stop cleaning the toilet. We good?”
Lennox laughs. “We’re good.”
Finally noticing we’re in a different part of Austin, Romeo says, “Nice neighborhood.”
Instantly recognizing these streets from all the times my mom and I drove them, I reply, “The west side.”
English turns back to me. “This is where your girl grew up?”
“Yeah. Her parents still live here.”
Lennox slows down so we can get a proper look at the neighborhood. “The map says it’s here, but there’s only a wall.”
“Keep going,” I say, my heart sinking to the pit of my stomach. “The entrance is ahead.”
“H
ow do you know?” he asks, his eyes hitting mine in the rearview mirror.
“I’ve been here.”
English asks, “You’ve met the parents?”
“No.” My mouth goes dry as I look at that red brick wall, the same wall I once graffitied, the same that barricades the house my mother loved most.
The guys keep talking, but I sit staring as we cruise along the wall. When Len approaches the wrought-iron gate, a vision of yellow ribbons, gapped teeth, and being peppered with a million questions comes to mind. Pepper.
Holy shit. “Stop the car.”
Slamming on the breaks, Lennox turns back. English and Romeo are staring at me as well. Lennox asks, “What’s wrong?”
I pop open the door, rushing around the back of the car, and crossing the lawn. “What the fuck are you doing, Marquis?” English yells through the window.
Memories flood my mind as I look around. A little girl in pigtails swinging on the wrought-iron gate, hearing her last words said that day, “See you again someday,” and the house I’ve seen on a picture that hung on my fridge for years. “I’ve been here before. This is her house. Pepper.”
Romeo stands next to me. “Who’s Pepper?”
“Weatherly.”
“I’m confused.”
Glancing at him, I say, “You and me both.” In the distance, a valet is directing the car to the back of the house. English calls to me, “Come on.”
I look at the house once more before Romeo and I return to the car. My heart is racing from the memories rushing through me. How is it possible? Can Weatherly really be the same little girl? Is Weatherly Pepper?
That name slid so easily off my tongue the night we met at Shep’s. It didn’t make sense then, but it does now. The car stops, and we get out again. Lennox tosses the keys to the valet, who says, “I’ve seen you guys play. You’re kick-ass.”
“Thanks,” Len replies.
English pops his pink collar. “How do I look?”
“Like a pussy,” Romeo replies, making us laugh.
We can see the party décor and guests before we’re seen. It gives me a quick second to scope it out, but when I find what I’m looking for—blue dress, long brown hair, beautiful—we make our entrance.
Make no mistake that we’re well aware we stand out like sore thumbs. We’ve spent our lives defending the honor of the east side only to walk into a west side party like we own this place.
Jaws drop. Annoyance read on the faces of several dickheads, but counteracted by the gawking of women. We head straight to the bar where my girlfriend is standing with her friends. When we near, the girl with black hair says, “Your dad hired a band?”
Weatherly ignores her and runs into my arms.
I hold her in my arms, inhaling everything about her into my lungs, her words as a girl still echoing in my head. I dip her because if we’re going to make a show of this, might as well make it memorable. I kiss her so fucking hard that her weight is rested in my hands. When our lips part, I still hold her. “See you again someday,” I whisper in her ear, repeating the words she once said to me.
“What?” She pulls back to see my eyes. When she doesn’t, she lifts my sunglasses onto my head. “What do you mean? You’re leaving?”
“No.” I search her eyes for the connection to be made, but all I see is curiosity. “Just heard that once.”
She smiles and grabs my hands. “Are you ready to meet my family?”
“No, but we have to do it, so there’s no point in delaying the inevitable.”
“Good attitude.”
We don’t get far before her ex is in my face. “What are you doing here?”
Guess this is how it’s going to be played. Good to know. I ignore him and turn back to my girl. “Who are we meeting first?”
“My mom.”
But douche doesn’t seem to get the message, probably due to all that inbreeding in the family tree. He adds, “Leave it to Weatherly to mess around with the help. Was filet mignon not to your liking? You had to go choose the chuck beef?”
“Stop it, Lloyd,” Weatherly snaps.
Lloyd digs that fucking hole deeper. “Unless you’re serving hors d’oeuvres, employees don’t mingle with invited guests.”
Enough. “Listen, Lloyd. I’m not here to cause problems—”
“Then leave,” he says.
I’m about to punch his fucking lights out, but pause when I see the look of horror on Weatherly’s face. Then I realize the expression isn’t aimed at me. It’s aimed at him. So is her arm just before she swings.
This is not what I want her taking away from being with me. I catch her fist and bring it to my mouth to kiss. “You have soul and feistiness in spades, Pepper.”
Her blue eyes widen like morning skies as she stares into mine, flickers of recognition coming back.
As predicted, once we left our little world of two, some would try to destroy us. That’s how the east side and west side work. My friends and I don’t belong here, and seeing the large man filling the doorway, the same man who her ex has darted to lap at his feet, reminds me that everything I do is a reflection of her. She’s worked too hard for me to ruin her future.
I try to recall her previous words. “This is a party. It’s supposed to be fun.”
“How can you—”
“Wholeheartedly.” One word is all we need to get us back to who we are, who we’ll always be together.
She takes a deep breath and nods. “Let’s go find my mom.” Dragging me away, she wraps her arm around mine. “I’m sorry for—”
“No, you don’t have any reason to be, but he should be.”
“Yes, he should.”
A waiter holds a tray out for us. Weatherly laughs, and says, “You should try the canapés.” I don’t know why she finds that so amusing, but I’m digging this little shrimp pastry thing.
We round the pool deck, and her hold on me tightens. “Mom, I’d like you to meet someone.”
Weatherly looks so much like the petite brunette. Her mom’s smile wavers for a millisecond before it returns. “Hello, I’m Bonnie Beck. And whom might you be?” When she speaks, she sounds like she’s from another time and place.
“This is Dare,” Weatherly says. “Dare Marquis.”
“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“You as well.” Glancing at her daughter, she says, “Where have you been hiding this handsome man?” We shake hands as she eyes me with a smile. The Southern charm is laid on thick with Bonnie Beck.
“In my apartment,” Weatherly replies, matching her mother’s grin.
Apparently, Pepper has a sarcastic side when it comes to her parents. I approve.
“Ah, I see your humorous streak is still intact.” Bonnie laughs and turns back to me with her hands clasped in front of her. “Dare is an unusual name.”
“My mom was very unique. She once told me she cursed me when she chose it because that name brought out my wilder side in spades.”
I catch Weatherly’s eyes with a smile hidden inside, but then it registers because she asks, “Spades, huh?”
“One time when I was sent to the principal’s office, he told me I had personality in spades.”
Bonnie keeps a look of fake interest plastered on her face, but my girl is staring at me like her heart recognizes mine—full of love and that connection we’ve always felt to one another. Her smile has faded, but hope lives in the softness of her expression.
Oblivious to what’s really happening, Bonnie says, “Your mother sounds like a charming lady.”
“She was.” My gaze turns to her. “She passed away some years back.”
Bonnie’s grin falls, and she rubs my arm. “I’m so sorry to hear that. My condolences.”
“Thank you. I was fortunate to be left with a lot of amazing memories.”
“That’s wonderful.” Looking past me, Bonnie adds, “I should say hi to the Johnstons. If you’ll—”
“She had a saying that always stuck with me.” Wh
en I have their complete attention, I continue, “Beauty attracts the eye, but the soul captures the heart.”
“You have that in spades,” Weatherly whispers right after. She sucks in a shaky breath while she remains staring at me. “Dare?”
“Yes?”
Bonnie asks, “What are we talking about again?” When we don’t answer, she adds, “Weatherly’s name can be traced back to England, like her lineage. Our family was not on the Mayflower, but they came shortly after.”
I look at Bonnie, wondering how she can miss what’s right under her nose. Her daughter’s silence should be the first hint, but Weatherly isn’t what they care about. Image is. So as much as I can appreciate the history lesson, I hear the underlying message loud and clear. I’m not welcome here.
A man comes to stand behind Bonnie. This is not a man to be messed with. His hardened eyes stare at me, but soon turn to his left. He says, “Weatherly, I’d like to speak with you in private.”
“Dad,” she says, her tone subtle but clipped as if to hide the discord between them and failing. “I’d like you to meet—”
“We can meet later. My office. Now.”
Adding please doesn’t soften the blow. His glare leaves me when he walks toward the house. I won’t take his bullshit or let him belittle her. “I’m Dare Marquis.”
Her father stops and turns around. “Dare Marquis.” He doesn’t offer his hand. Just says my name and then leaves again.
Fuck him.
Weatherly says, “I’m so sorry, Dare.”
“He treats you terribly.” Her mother slipped away when I didn’t notice. “Are you going?”
“I have to.”
“You don’t have to do anything. You’re choosing to.”
“You’re right. I’m choosing this meeting because I’ve worried about my future my whole life, and now it’s my turn to have my say.”
“So you’ve decided what you’re going to do?” Looking around, she seems to have so much on her mind, and I don’t want to add to her pressures. I say, “You take the meeting, and I’ll be here when you return.”
