Valentine's Day Kisses : Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

  “You ever see him?” I haven’t really said his name out loud in years, don’t want to. Last I heard he’s at Penn State studying law.

  “No. After graduation, I saw no one. I’ve been at Yates. It’s a nice school, but the distance between us was eating at me. My sister suggested I try a semester here just to see what happens.”

  Not sure I buy that last part, but then, her sister always was an instigator.

  “We had some good times at Bentley.” The words come out quiet, unsure if I’m speaking the truth. “I’m glad we had them. But I’m glad we’ve moved past all that stuff. It’s probably a good thing that you’re here.” It’s true. There’s no better way to lay the past to rest than to bury it yourself, and that’s exactly what’s come of me seeing her tonight—the past is six feet under, and I’m ready to move on.

  Her eyes enlarge with hope as she sucks in a breath. “Really? You mean that? You’re actually glad I’m here?”

  “Yes. I mean that. But”—I reach over and tap my hand to hers—“not in the way you’re thinking. Everything that happened is in the past, and unfortunately, I feel as if we are, too. I don’t want you to go through life wondering what would have happened. I want us both to move past this and get on with our lives.”

  “Apart.” She collects herself enough to put up a cold front. “So you’re saying there’s no chance. I’ve wasted my time in coming here,” she huffs while looking at her reflection in the window.

  “No, not at all. This is the part where we put it all behind us, and we become something new together—friends—just like we were in the beginning.”

  A smile plays on her lips. Sammy is pretty by textbook standards, but now I wonder what I ever saw in her beyond that. She’s always been a girl who sees what she wants and gets it, and now I’m starting to think I was simply an object she chose from the shelf, pointed at, and expected to have as her eternal plaything.

  “We were pretty heated in the beginning.” Her fingernails rake slowly over my arm, and I retract it from her reach.

  “We were friends in the beginning. I propose that’s where we remain.”

  “Friends.” Her brows knit as if I’ve just offended her, threw an expletive into her face, and expected her to swallow it whole. “Friends.” She picks up her drink. “Well—here’s to building a beautiful and lasting friendship.”

  Why do I get the feeling even that inch was far too much to have gifted her?

  “To a lasting friendship.” I knock my coffee to hers before making up an excuse about needing to walk Buddy. But it’s not an excuse really. I need to feed, walk, and lock up my best friend in his room for the night because a girl that I can’t ever seem to track down just might pay me a visit.

  Cassidy Clayton.

  Now that’s one girl I want far more than a friendship with.

  A Hard Man is Good to Find

  Cassidy

  Stilettos is the premier strip club in downtown Jepson. Unlike that male whorehouse Owen used to work at, no offense, an honest living is an honest living—this little vestige of revelry is located in the heart of a business oasis, thus accounting for the bevy of suits in the audience. And I do believe the location is crucial in parallel to my sister’s hefty income. I guess in that respect, this little outing with the girls doubles as research for my future business ventures. Location, timing, and fair market pricing are the three golden rules we’ve covered so far in Basic Principles of Marketing. My entire body swoons a moment just thinking of Cade James and the prowess he wields both in and out of the classroom.

  “Hello?” Piper waves a hand over my face as the club materializes around me once again. Swear to all that lies above, that boy makes me go out of my mind twice daily and at least a dozen blissful, sinful times on Sunday. “Where do you want us to sit? And what’s the big surprise?” She wrinkles her nose at the girls swinging their hips on stage. “No offense, but I’m pretty sure none of us are dying to see them take it off.”

  I give a little wink over to Scarlett who at the moment is the only one in on my little lookalike secret I’m about to expose to both Piper and Daisy. Stilettos is a good size club, dark, smoky with the heavy scent of pricey cologne swimming through the air like testosterone. The waitresses are bare chested—balancing out the estrogen on the floor. In fact, the only things these girls do wear are aprons and a G-string. I can’t imagine being handed an apron as a uniform. Heck, I can’t imagine taking my clothes off on stage, but apparently, my other half doesn’t mind. My sister thrives in this morally deprived economy. Caila doesn’t hit the stage until nine on the button, and then she has a repeat performance at eleven.

  “Oh c’mon, girls. There’s no place like the front!” I give a little whoop and knock my hip into Daisy’s. Daisy Pembrooke is as polished as a diamond, as chic as a supermodel, and nervous as a hen with a fox eyeing her neck. “Relax, girl!” I thread my arm through hers as we make our way to the very front row as threatened. “I promise, none of these girls bite, not even if you ask them real nice.” Unlike Cade who bites with such zest and zeal you’d think he were put on this Earth to decorate my body with the imprint of his perfectly straight teeth. Of course, he’s just following orders like a good little soldier—not that there’s anything little about that boy. My face heats just thinking of Cade and his super-sized man parts. That line about asking real nice for a bite was the first thing Cade said to me in class, and just the thought of how he’s made good on that promise lights a carnal fire in me. There’s no doubt I’ll be stopping by for a quick bite myself this evening.

  “Crap, Cass. We’re so close, we’re going to see their cock sockets!” Piper flops in her seat and covers her eyes like the adorably whiny brat she is.

  “Would you stop acting like a three-year-old?” Secretly, that’s my favorite part about Pouty Piper. What’s not to love when your bestie is an overgrown baby who would do anything in the world to protect you? I’ll never forget as long as I live what she did that night those witches from Alpha Chi decided they needed the spackle removed from my face. Piper was the one who had my back then, and I plan on having this girl’s back for the rest of our lives. My stomach nosedives for a moment, because if Piper is going to be in my life until death do us part, where does that leave Cade and me?

  “Believe me, sweetie”—I hop onto the stool between her and Scarlett— “nobody in this establishment is after sneaking you a peak of their honey pot, unless, of course, you come at them with lots of this.” I reach into my purse and pull out a fistful of bills and wave them at the stage with unabashed glee. An entire herd of girls sashays over, ready to have those skimpy strings slung over their bottoms stuffed with lots and lots of government-issued greens.

  “Have fun, ladies.” I quickly divide the loot among the three of them before leaning toward Scarlett. “Make sure these frightened pussy cats don’t stray. It’s five minutes to show time. I’ll be watching the real show from the corner and come back to surprise them before Piper tries to yank my sister offstage and ruin her budding career.”

  “You are fifty shades of screwed-up.” Scarlett laughs. Scarlett hardly ever lets an expletive fly, so it’s hard not to laugh along with her.

  I turn back to Piper and Daisy who both look sickly pale and just a tiny bit afraid as the girls shake what their mommas gave them at the lot of us.

  “I’m taking off to the little girls’ room. Be back in a flash!” Normally, one of them, both of them would have volunteered to go with me, but they’re too green to move at the moment. A waitress comes at me holding a tray full of liquid courage, and I gladly take a tiny blue shot from her. Everyone at the club assumes they know me, and for the life of me, I have no idea if Caila gets charged for all the freebies I manage to procure while I’m here. I settle myself at the bar, sipping my little blue something or other that tastes like nail polish remover over ice. The clock strikes nine, and the lights dim down before swirling into a dizzying inferno of color.

  The emcee, a rather h
andsome, buff man with muscles that do their best imitation of rippling chocolate, takes the mic. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, I have the pleasure to introduce the lovely, the luscious, curvy-swervey, the fabulous Caila Jace!”

  “Fabulous indeed.” A little giggle chortles from me.

  The lights go rabid, as does the crowd. An entire thicket of men in business suits storms the runway like vultures at feeding time once my sister steps out onto that stage. There she is. My heart stills for a moment, because from this vantage point, even I’m having a great deal of difficulty telling us apart. If I wasn’t in my own skin, I’d doubt who was who, but I’m not here to see my beautiful sister strut her stuff. I turn my greedy eyes toward my stupefied best friends. Even Scarlett, in all her auburn glory, looks slightly aghast by what she’s experiencing. Piper gazes up, mesmerized by Caila, as she edges her way to the end of the stage. The music starts up obnoxiously loud, like the drumming of a 747 engine. Caila swings her hips to the rhythm, looking every bit calm, cool, and collected as if she wasn’t doing this in a room full of sexed-up men and women, but for a lover. But Caila isn’t the type to take a lover. She’s too busy taking men by their horn, and I do mean that in the singular sense, landing them right where she needs them. It’s safe to say my daddy’s abrupt departure did nothing to nurture normal male relations with the two of us.

  Caila’s long blonde hair is blown out straight over her shoulders, pouring down her back like white glacial milk. She’s donned a cat suit made of black netting with jewels sewn into its webbing, giving her that glittering effect that blinds the audience every now and again. That, right there, is the best analogy of Caila. She’s so powerful and beautiful in her own right it’s blinding on occasion. But her breasts are bare, and moving freely to the beat as she dances seductively while owning that stage. You can see her perky little titties clear as day, despite the netting they’re enmeshed in. There’s a tiny vanity cluster of white rhinestones making an ill attempt to cover her personals down south, but, other than that, there I am prancing around in what God gave me for all to see. As it were, that’s not enough. A couple of male strippers dance out onto the stage with their muscles oiled down to a tan perfection, their smiles just as greasy as they help free my sister from that fishnet she’s tangled up in. Both Piper and Daisy drop their jaws, and by the looks of it their sanity as they gawk in horror. Piper wastes no time in jumping out of her seat.

  “Holy hot mama!” I abandon my pretty little poison and run laughing and screaming as the music holds its own, deafening everyone in the vicinity to my cries.

  Scarlett tries to stop Piper from getting on that stage, but she’s halfway to Caila by the time I arrive, so I do the only thing I can think of—jump on her shoulders like I’m trying to put out a fire.

  “Relax! It’s not me!” I laugh right into her red-with-rage ear.

  Piper turns just enough to identify this newfound monkey on her back and tips me over with the ease of a dump truck.

  Daisy is quick to help me up and holds my chin in her cold, shaky hand. “What the hell?” Her little pert lips twist, letting me know she’s put it together, and she is not amused.

  “I said I was just stepping away to the little girls’ room.” I bat my lashes at the two of them. “Where in God’s name did you think I went?” I attempt to fan myself with my hot pink fingernails.

  “Crap.” Piper looks from me to the stage. “Okay, don’t freak out, but that chick on stage is wearing your face!”

  Scarlett and I indulge in a nice, long laugh on behalf of our two besties. Caila’s routine comes to a close, and she struts on over. Both Scarlett and I don’t waste a moment in sharing a quick fist bump with my almost-mirror image. The music dies down, and the next girl appears on stage as Caila pulls me into a hug.

  “Did we kill ’em?” She laughs, dabbing tears from the corners of her eyes as we resettle ourselves off the runway. I’m not the only one who gets a kinky thrill out of the deal.

  “You killed us all right,” Piper snarls at my gorgeous other half.

  Daisy pulls me in close, looking from me to my beautiful sister. Caila has three different makeup artists backstage who airbrush her to stripper-worthy perfection and utilize other far more secretive beauty tricks to get her to this level of flawlessness. Not that she needs it. Her confidence alone is a force to be reckoned with.

  “What’s going on?” Daisy is a little curter than usual. She’s pre-law, and already I know she’ll make a great legal eagle one day. “Is this your sister?”

  Caila holds out a hand to her. “And you must be the smart one. You university girls never cease to amaze me. Caila Jace.” She shakes each of their stunned hands.

  Piper blows out a hard breath, still trying to process it. “So, you do this?” She nods over at the stage. “With her face?”

  “Oh, hon”—Caila’s not missing a beat—“I do this with her face and her body.”

  We all share a quick chortle, and just like that, everyone loves Caila. It never does take long for her to charm and disarm the masses.

  We hang out for another set before hugging it out with my beautiful sis and taking off.

  “So, what did you guys think?” I ask as we head toward Scarlett’s car.

  Daisy hacks out a laugh. “I think your sister is as amazing as you are. But please, if there are any more heart-stopping surprises in that familial closet of yours, I’m going to need a bottle of aspirin and a heads-up. You don’t have any other pranks brewing in that pretty blonde head, do you?”

  “Not a single one.”

  “Except for her mystery man.” Scarlett wraps a cool arm around my shoulder. “Even I’m not privy to that secret. So, what gives? Tomorrow is V-Day. Are you planning on letting him ply you with chocolate and roses?”

  “Valentine’s is for fools, hon.” I wink over at Piper, letting her know I’m teasing. She’s already let me in on the fact that she and Owen are having a sleepover that starts tonight and ends at some point Monday morning. I think, come summer, I’ll have a vacancy in my dorm room. It’s pretty inescapable at this point to assume otherwise.

  “I’m no fool,” Piper counters before drilling her navy blue eyes into mine, and there he is. Cade moves in and out of her features like a watercolor come to life. “And for sure you’re not either. Don’t go getting your heart broken. Think twice before you leap into his bed again.”

  “What do you mean think twice?” Scarlett entwines our arms and pulls me in, her ruby lips just as red as her hair and name. “This girl has gotten laid and gotten laid good. I’ve never seen her so ridiculously over the moon. Come on”—she gives my arm a yank as we head toward the parking lot—“give us a name. Just a first name. It’s not like we’ll decode anything major from that.”

  I glance to Piper and blush deeper than any part of the ocean can ever be. I’m pretty sure his name would incite more than a riot. There isn’t a heck of a lot of boys named Cade running around Briggs, nor in Hollow Brook. If I offer them a first name, I might as well offer them a last.

  “Okay, fine.” Daisy comes up and hooks her arm through mine on the other side, and there’s something satiating about being ensconced by your friends this way. “We have to call him something. Give us a clue so we can come up with a proper nickname.”

  A thousand inappropriate thoughts run through my brain. The big trio, those raging muscles of his, that hotter than hell tongue that knows exactly what it’s doing to me in the very best way.

  “I don’t know. That boy’s entire body is a weapon he’s not afraid to wield.” My face burns ten times hotter than the sun, and I refuse to look Piper in the eye for the rest of the night.

  “Holy crap, Clayton!” Piper jumps in front of me. “You’re still sleeping with this guy?”

  “What did you think I was doing? Having high tea with the queen?” I blush again, because Cade specifically said very naughty things concerning that British monarch.

  Scarlett and Daisy belt out a choir of la
ughs, but Piper looks as if I’ve just dismembered her favorite doll. God, if she ever knew it was Cade I’m bedding, she’d look far more ticked off than she ever does now. I’d have to run for cover. I’d have to cross ten state lines just to keep a safe distance from her explosive wrath. Her brother had better watch out, too. I’m pretty sure that good time runs both ways.

  “Okay, I got one.” Daisy steadies her sparkling champagne nails in front of us. “How about Pudding Pop?”

  “That’s disgusting.” Piper gags as she spews the words out.

  Scarlett whips her hair over her shoulders like a flame. “How about Hot Buns?”

  “He does have hot buns.” I just might need to take a bite out of one tonight to reaffirm this theory. “How about King of Hearts?” I offer. “Not that I’m in love with him or anything.” I turn so far from Piper I practically have my back to her.

  “No!” Piper is the first to decry his quasi-royal standing. “Hot Buns it is. Even though I can’t stand it—it’s a heck of a lot better than something he’s obviously not ready to give you, and that’s his heart.”

  “Hey”—Scarlett swats Piper with her purse—“you don’t know that. They could be madly declaring their love for one another nightly. You’re not doing that, right?” She gives a hard sniff my way with that disgusted look on her face as if she could smell my relationship funk from there.

  “What? No! We’re just having a good time. Trust me, the L word has never left my lips nor will it. We’re just letting off some steam, having a little f-u-n.” I rock into Daisy and Scarlett, causing us to sway all the way to the car.

  Piper pulls me to the side as the girls climb in. She looks ticked, and, if I were to guess, a little bit affronted. “Promise me you won’t get hurt.”