Beautiful Oblivion

by Addison Moore

  I swim up beside her and pull her in until her body is upright and pressed against mine once again. Reese gives a pouting smile and takes my breath away with her beauty.

  “Promise me you won’t have a wild summer.” I touch my forehead to hers for a second. “Just because I’m not going to have you, doesn’t mean I want some other asshole to cash in on your brain malfunction.”

  “You’ve had a wild summer every year since you were sixteen.” A laugh bubbles from her throat, and her skin vibrates in tune.

  “I’m a guy—wild summer’s are practically a rite of passage.” All of the blood in my body rushes to my dick, and I might pass out and drown if I don’t do something about it soon.

  “Trust me, this is far from a brain malfunction. This is happening.”

  She lifts her knees to my hips, and I gently push them back down.

  “Reese”—I close my eyes a moment—“what made you decide to have a wild summer? Hell, when did you decide?”

  “You and about fifteen minutes ago.” A sly smile plays on her lips. Hot damn. Reese Westfield is hotter than a wildfire and is threatening to get out of control like one, too. Nope, I’m not going to let that happen. I think what we need here is a controlled burn under the watchful supervision of someone who cares—someone like me.

  “Okay.” I take a quick breath. “I’m in.”

  “You’re in?” She marvels. Her mouth parts as if she were ready and willing to start tonight.

  “Yes.” I shake my head, disbelieving. “I’ll be your wild summer—your fling, whatever you want to call it.” Now it’s my face filling with heat.

  “My summer fling,” she says it slow like a very sad poem. “Thank you, Ace.” Her eyes sweep over mine as her hand smooths over my features.

  Reese falls into me, landing her hot mouth over mine. I run my hands along her thighs, and it takes all my strength not to venture a little further north, but I hold out. We stay in the lake with our bodies twisted around one another like rope, our lips fused together as we try to put out the inferno going off in one another’s mouths.

  Reese has already turned this into the best season on record.

  I have a feeling I just dove into the best damn summer of my life.

  2

  The Summer of Ecstasy

  Reese

  The following day, in the late afternoon, I rouse to an empty, yet, appropriately disheveled house. I wade my way downstairs through a sea of red Solo cups. I’m not too surprised, considering half my stepsister’s sorority showed up last night, including their matchups, Kappa Pi, which I’ve nicknamed get-the-clapa-pie—and appropriately so since Kennedy’s “sisters” have been known to frequent the school clinic in order to disinfect themselves of crabs.

  I catch my reflection in the mirror with my hair wound up like a bird’s nest and make a face. My eyes are bloodshot from tossing and turning. I was lost in a violent sea of kisses all night long, and it was Ace delivering them, both in and out of my dreams.

  “Well, look who’s up?” Kennedy takes a careful sip of her coffee. She has the same long, dark hair as me, same light grey eyes, and, yet, we’re only related by law. “What turned you into a walking turd?”

  “Play nice,” I chide as I fall into the seat beside her.

  She pushes her steaming mug over, and I take a careful sip.

  “Bleh.” I slide it back. “I hate coffee. It tastes like someone put out a cigarette in my milk.”

  “Nobody hates coffee, Reese. For the sake of your social standing, fake it when you’re in public.”

  “Sure, why not. Rumor has it you do exactly that in bed,” I tease. Truthfully I have no knowledge of what Kennedy and her boy toy do in or out of the bedroom. Kennedy and Keith have been together forever, or at least as long as she’s been my stepsister for the last four years.

  “You’re not funny.” She spins her mug, eyeing me like a snake. “You missed my eighties party.”

  “I’m sorry. Did you dance in the purple rain?”

  “No we walked like an Egyptian.” She assumes the position with her hands. “There were tons of boys, and you missed every one of them. It was practically raining men.”

  “Maybe I like being the owner of a lonely heart.”

  “Really?” She snorts into our eighties laden gab session. “Did it hurt so good?”

  “No, it cut like a knife.”

  “Warren was asking about you all night.” Her pale eyes widen. “I told him you were watching a movie with friends. Were you?”

  “Sort of.” My favorite movie—a love story starring Ace and me. But, I suppose after that arrangement I made with him last night, it’s panning out to be more of a porn flick.

  I give a little wink over at her.

  “Don’t do that. People who wink give me the creeps. Now, onto the details of said movie.” She raps her knuckles over the table, and the sound echoes in my skull long after she’s through. “Spill.”

  “You wish.” I give her a light kick. “I’m not one of your sorority sister wives. I don’t have to submit to your special brand of torture.” I glance out the large series of windows that stretch up to the second floor, and take in the glory of the lake as it expands in every direction, a thick, clear blue. Across the way I spot a line of colorful umbrellas spiked in the sand. The sun has already sealed the day with a kiss, and it feels stuffy in here which lets me know I should turn on the AC. It’s usually me who runs the house while our parents are away. The only upkeep Kennedy partakes in is strictly relegated to her own body. “Okay.” I give in without any real prompting. “I went skinny dipping last night with Ace Waterman.” He poured kisses into my mouth like wine straight from the throne of God, but I leave that part out.

  “Ace?” Her features contort. Her mouth opens and closes. “Did he kiss you?”

  “Only after I begged.” Apparently I’m all about the truth this morning, and I’m not sure I like it. I smooth my hand over the table. It’s the last decorator touch of my mother’s in this oversized house. My mother had an affinity for all things Victorian—and Beverly, my stepmother, prefers art deco.

  “You did not.” Kennedy sucks in a breath as if I had just confessed to sleeping with an entire boat full of homeless men.

  “No really.” My finger glides over the rim of her mug like an afterthought. “Then I convinced him to be my summer fling. The end.” I give a simple shrug as if what just flew from my lips had a thread of sanity attached. Kennedy would sooner have her fingernails plucked off than ever consider Ace Waterman as her plus one. She’s a trust fund baby who needs a good millionaire to wrap around herself like a coat for the long haul.

  “You’re not serious.” Her eyes grow wild, a lewd grin buds on her lips because she knows I am. “Holy shit, Reese. This will never work.”

  “It doesn’t have to. Come move in day at Yeats, it’ll all be over.” I bite down on my lip at the thought of walking away from the only boy I’ve ever dreamed about, hell, wet my panties over, for that matter.

  “Just something quick and dirty, huh?” She meditates over the idea. “Reese and Ace…” She makes a face. “You don’t even sound like a couple.” She strums her fingers over the table a moment. “Your couple’s name would be Race, as in moving too fast.”

  “Race.” I nod into the idea. “I like it. It’s better than nothing. Warren and I never had a couple’s name,” I’m quick to point out. “Nothing ever made sense, sort of the way we didn’t make sense. But Ace and me…” I let my words hang in the air like a love song. “We’ve known each other forever.”

  “You’re getting way ahead of yourself, little sister. Who cares if you’ve known Ace forever? He’s just some guy you grew up with. Nowhere does it say you have to give him your virginity in order to occupy your precious summer vacay. Keith and I took six full months before we went there, and, believe me—the sex was amazing because we took it slow. You should totally put this off and find a real guy to dive into bed with, not some boy who happened t
o grow up next door. God, does he even have a job?”

  “Yes, he has a big net and goes around catching crazy bitches all day long. So, I guess you’d better watch your back.” I raise a brow. It’s easy for Kennedy to dismiss Ace. By the time she came into the family picture, Ace and I were already socially world’s apart, then came college.

  “You’re funny, you know that?” She narrows her silver eyes over mine. “I think the heat is getting to you,” she hisses it out like a threat. “I told you not to lay out so long in the sun yesterday. Wear a hat when you go out. You’re on reserves with those brain cells of yours.”

  “Now who’s the funny one? Besides, Ace is amazing.”

  “You’re not serious, are you?” Kennedy takes a breath when I don’t answer. “Reese.” Her eyes close as if she’s come to the end of me. “Warren isn’t going to like this.”

  “He’ll never know. Ace and I don’t plan on advertising our little fuck-fest. I’m not selling tickets to my deflowering session, so you don’t have to worry about Warren’s little heart getting splattered all over the wall. And, by the way, it’s made out of rusted iron, so I hardly think I could do any damage to begin with.” Last year when I cried on my mother’s birthday, he had the balls to ask if it was really necessary. I should have eviscerated him with my fingernails. Every now and again I still consider it.

  “Warren’s a good guy.” She averts her eyes like she knows he’s not. “You just have to give him a chance.”

  “No can do because I’m already giving more than a chance to Ace.” I stretch my arms high over my head. “I’m hoping to race to that special place with Ace post haste.”

  “Dear God.” She moans, taking back her coffee. “If you go Dr. Suess on me again, I might be moved to twist your head off.” She gets up and makes her way out of the room. “Get yourself laid already, would you?”

  “That’s the plan,” I shout back.

  Race. I shake my head while a smile blooms on my face.

  That’s exactly what he’s made my heart do all these years.

  The phone rings before I can finish downing Kennedy’s cigarette-laced coffee, and I pick it up just so I don’t have to listen to Beverly’s annoying voice on the answering machine, but, just as my crappy luck would have it, it’s Beverly herself. She spends a half-hour straight bitching about the rain in Italy. Beverly could never see the beauty in things like rain. Everything is a chore to her highness. Life is nothing more than one, long monotonous task. I swear, even with all my father’s money that woman will never be happy. I try to imagine Ace and me on some Italian gondola adrift in the Adriatic just as a light rain begins to mist. I’d kiss him right then. If a downpour followed I’m pretty sure the urgency in our kisses would only kick up a notch. I imagine peeling his sopping clothes off and taking him right there. Only, I suppose there’s an actual gondola driver who commandeers the vessel, and things could get uncomfortable for him, but in my fantasy it’s just the two of us, making wild love in the driving rain. And, now, I’ve added that very impractical thing to my ever-growing carnal bucket list.

  I spot Ace across the lake in his bright-orange canoe, his oars moving at record pace as he glides across the water in one smooth track. I make up some lame excuse about burning toast and hang up on Beverly. I’m sure she called hoping to talk to Kennedy, but their relationship has been frigid these past few months ever since Beverly confessed to the fact she didn’t approve of Keith because of his mother’s questionable social standing. I doubt she’d care too much for Ace either since his mother ran out on his family when he was in junior high. His father barely makes ends meet working as the lake patrol. Then, again, Beverly couldn’t care less about my future.

  I watch riveted as Ace wages a war over the water, his biceps popping in turn, his chest bronzed and slicked with heat.

  That’s it. His perfect body is all the motivation I need as I run barefoot all the way to the edge of the lake. I give a wild wave until Ace finally lifts an oar out of the water.

  A laugh bubbles from me as I slick my hair back into a messy bun.

  From behind him, a pale, blue canoe appears, and my smile dissipates as Warren speeds his way over.

  Ace cuts him off and maneuvers past him as if he weren’t putting in a real effort. I watch as his muscles twitch in tandem, his chest broadens, his abs cut in detail, and my mouth waters just looking at him. Ace is perfectly tanned and toned under the smoldering summer sun. He glides up on shore with Warren just a few seconds behind him.

  “I win,” Ace pants through a smile. “That means I get the girl, right?” He gives a sly grin in my direction, and my stomach pinches tight. He’s so gorgeous with his dark hair, that body of chiseled steel. I’d have him right here on the sand if he let me.

  “No one’s taking my girl.” Warren jumps out of his canoe and tosses his oar high on the grass just beyond the sand. He turns to Ace. “Let’s get some coffee. My treat.” He slaps me on the shoulder. “She’s a real bitch if I don’t put some caffeine in her.”

  I choose to ignore Warren and his stupid remark. Normally I’d say something, but with Ace around it’s like Warren ceases to exist. Ace has the power to dissolve lesser men with simply the flash of his killer smile.

  Ace raises his dark brows. His eyes bear into mine, and the memory of our bodies fusing together last night sends a chill racing up my spine. I don’t ever remember feeling so electrified with Warren.

  We walk just past Ace’s family cabin, over to the Loveless General Store. Inside it smells like sundries and burnt coffee. The owner turned it into a quasi cafe a few years back, and it’s been a hit with both tourist and locals ever since.

  Ace’s sister Neva sits behind the counter, and I spot Brylee Peters in the back hunched over her laptop. We were best friends growing up, along with Neva.

  “Morning,” I say it loud and clear, but Neva doesn’t look up from her phone. Her hair is freshly died jet black with a tint of purple running through it like lightning pressed against a stormy night sky. I’d tell her it looks good, but she’ll probably think I’m mocking her, so I don’t bother. We were best friends up until after my mom died, then, out of the blue, Neva told me off, the end. All I know is she’s at the community college with her brother. Ace took two years off after high school and saved up just to attend.

  “Just an iced mocha for me.” I give a shy smile, and Neva proceeds to ignore me. I glance over at Ace and catch him eyeing Warren’s arm still latched around my waist. Funny, I didn’t even notice he was holding me. “I think I’m going to say hi to Brylee.” I ditch the boys and head toward the back. I give a quick wave to Bry. It’s only then I notice she’s sitting with Gavin Jackson, Ace’s buddy that he chops wood with. It’s Gavin’s side business that helps put Ace through school.

  “Look who’s here?” He springs up and pulls me in. Gavin smells good, clean like soap. He’s a blond god that has most of the girls in Loveless dropping to their knees, but Ace is the only one I’d ever engage in idol worship for.

  “Girl!” Brylee springs to her feet and tackle hugs me until I stumble backward into a rock hard body. “I have missed you so damn much!”

  “Whoa.” Ace raises our drinks out of the way before setting them on the table.

  “Nice save.” I pat the seat next to me, and Ace complies without hesitating. “I almost knocked us both right over.”

  “You couldn’t knock me over if you tried. Besides, I’ll always catch you, girl.” His dimples depress, and, for a moment, it’s just Ace and me with my heart palpitating in honor of his glory.

  “So how was school?” I glance around.

  Gavin shakes his head. “The school of hard knocks suits me just fine.” He opted out of the scholastic route and opened his own business instead. Outside of firewood, he carves oversized bears and eagles that the residents buy to adorn their yards. Gavin is pretty amazing in his own right.

  “I have lots to tell you.” Brylee pierces me with a hard stare. Her stony-green
eyes drill into mine. Brylee is cute and bubbly with her long, blonde hair, her body that most girls pay for, and she happens to get away with murder due to the aforementioned attributes.

  “You choose a major this year?” I ask, taking a quick sip of my mocha freeze.

  “Business.” She rolls her eyes as if she regrets it already. “Guess where I’m headed in the fall?”

  “No way!” It comes from me a little louder than necessary. I turn back for a moment and catch Warren talking to Neva. His hand brushes over hers, and I ignore it. “Do you know what dorm you’ll be staying in?”

  “Beuller Hall.”

  “That’s where I am! I’ll see if I can get our roommates to switch. I’d die to have you with me.”

  Ace and Gavin hold their own conversation about woodcutting, something about cords being stacked later this afternoon. I never did understand the woodcutting lingo, so I wait for a lull in their conversation before interjecting.

  “How’s school for you?” I say it quieter to Ace, hoping he knows my question is still layered with heat from last night’s kisses.

  “Good.” His dimples flex, setting off a set of mini tremors between my thighs. “Still rowing. I declared business as my major. The year flew by. And you?”

  Warren comes back before I can answer and drops a kiss on the top of my head. He smacks Ace to scoot over, and he does without hesitating.

  Warren can be a good guy when he’s not busy being an asshole. He’s tall, a little lanky but clean cut and for the most part attentive—to his own needs.

  “I’m headed to Collingsworth in an hour.” He pushes into me with his shoulder until I nearly fall off the bench. “You in?” Warren has a scar that jags up his left cheek from an accident he had when he was a kid. He fell from a horse onto a barbed fence and slit his face open. His caramel-colored hair is a little longer than it’s been, but he keeps his face clean-shaven as a baby’s bottom.