“Yes, ma’am,” I whisper as if she just gave an order, and our lips find one another. For the next ten solid minutes, she pours a fire into my mouth with a passion I have never felt before. Reese lashes her tongue over mine like she’s trying to teach me a lesson. Her top twists in ten different directions as my fingers indulge in how fucking soft she is in my hand. I roll her nipples over my fingers until they’re rock hard and pull back to take her in like this.
“Ace,” she trembles my name from her lips, and I lock eyes with her, forcing her to look at me.
“I’m going to run my tongue all over your body tonight,” I say it plain like a fact—like it wasn’t killing me on the inside to show this much restraint to tell her how I really feel instead. “I’m going to kiss you in places you’ve only dreamed about.” I twist my thumbs over her nipples, so she knows precisely where. The truth is, I want to push Reese to the limit—make her squirm, uncomfortable even, to see if she’ll back out of our deal. “I’m going to put parts of you in my mouth that are guaranteed to make you insane.” I give a brief smile, but she doesn’t seem to flinch. Instead, her eyes flutter briefly as if she’s already about to lose it. My heart thumps wild at the thought of Reese wanting this. I won’t deny there is definitely something strange about this whole thing, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was glad it was me she chose to have a special summer with.
She gives a quick nod. “We can start right now—that is, if you want to.” She tries to sound calm, as if it were no big deal, but the heavy wobble in her voice lets me know she’d more than like to speed up the process.
“Tell me something”—I lean in and whisper just over her lips—“have you ever had an orgasm?” This is it. If she doesn’t flinch, I’ll know she’s serious. I can’t imagine anything more uncomfortable than contemplating orgasms in the middle of the afternoon.
Her chest palpitates. Her breathing grows erratic. Reese takes in a heated breath as if she’s about to have one now.
“Not with anyone else in the room.” She bats her lashes at me.
Shit. She knows she got me going with that one.
I try to hang onto my poker face as long as I can. “I might like to see you in action some time. If you ever feel the need to reenact the deed, I won’t stop you.”
“Why would I pleasure myself when I have you to do that for me?” Her hands float over my shoulders as she pulls me in by the neck.
“You got me there.” I push out a breath. It looks like she wants this. Tonight will be the real test. “Prepare to be pleasured.”
Reese wraps her arms around me, and her lips expand in a toothy grin. Reese has the face of an angel, and she knows it.
“What the hell are we doing?” I shake my head. “You deserve everything, Reese.”
“Then give me everything you’ve got.” Her eyes widen at what exactly that might be.
“I will.”
I’ve already given her my heart.
She just doesn’t know it.
4
The Build Up
Reese
The sky darkens a shade, wrapping itself with a blanket of white flannel clouds, thick and soft. I head home after my paddle boarding session with Ace, and I can’t wipe the silly grin off my face.
Brylee waves at me from the porch with a towel draped over her shoulders. She’s still dripping wet from the lake, but I don’t care. I race up the steps and take her by the hand all the way to my bedroom, laughing as if it were junior high and the cutest boy in school just asked me to the dance—which he sort of did. A very erotic, sexually pleasurable dance for two, usually performed horizontally, or, until tonight, only in my dreams.
“What?” Brylee shuts the door behind us. “Did you set a bag of crap on fire outside Neva’s door?” She gets that gleam in her eye as if she just gave birth to a very wicked idea. The three of us used to be inseparable. After Neva kicked me out of her life, Brylee decided not to take sides. Somehow she still manages to maintain a genuine friendship with the both of us.
“No,” I correct. “But her brother took me out on the lake and set me on fire. I’m damn lucky my bathing suit didn’t melt right off.” I glance down to verify the fact it’s still firmly in place. It’s wet in all the right places, and I think that in and of itself is a testament to Ace.
“Really? Right on the lake?” She glances out the window in disbelief. “God—Ace Waterman is an animal. Warren is so going to kick his ass when he finds out.” Her brows rise and fall as if this were all some amusing prank I’m pulling.
“He’s not going to find out.” But if I had it my way, I’d want the world to know. “Me and Ace are keeping things low key since it’s just a summer thing.” I pick up my brush and rake it through my hair. “Ace wants to stay friends.” I stare at my reflection in the mirror and wonder if deep down maybe that’s what I want, too. Having Ace in my life would rearrange things for my dad more than it would me, not to mention there’s a sour feeling in my gut when I think of breaking the news to him. I push the thought out of my mind. For sure this is nothing I have to worry about right now. If my father thinks I’m with Warren for the summer. So what? My mind just wants to turn this thing with Ace into something it’s not, so does my heart.
Brylee presses her lips together until they’re white as paper and reverts her eyes to the ceiling.
“I saw that.” I spin around. “You’re not buying it, are you?”
“Are you buying it?” Her powder blue eyes blink at me as if I’d be an idiot to think Ace and I could get away with still being friends after the fact. “He’s too nice of a guy to do you a favor like that. Don’t you think he might be genuinely interested?”
“The thought crossed my mind. Or, more to the point I was hoping.” I plop on my bed, and she follows. “But he hasn’t expressed any feelings to me outside of the friend zone. If he doesn’t give me those kinds of signals, I’ll have to gauge our relationship by the one’s he does give me. And, for now, that would be friends.” I pull the brush through my hair again, smooth, like running it through satin. “Best of friends, by the way. He pushed you right off the pedestal.”
Brylee knocks into my shoulder to protest the idea.
“You only like him better because he’s got a power line hanging between his legs.”
“Power line?” I suppose this is the part where I tell her I can’t wait for him to electrocute me, but I hold back. “You’re right.” I lie back on my pillow and think about what tonight is going to be like. “He said we’re going to take it slow.”
“As in?” She glides up beside me.
“We’ve been kissing.” I shrug. “Tonight, he says he’s moving his mouth to more interesting places.” I press my lips together tight. “He promised me a happy ending.”
“Get the hell out.” She sticks her face in my pillow and laughs up a storm before emerging.
“Swear to God if you pee in my bed, you’re boiling the sheets.”
Brylee hacks out an air laugh before coming to. “Too late,” she whispers, wiping her eyes with my comforter.
“So…is there anything I should know, or do in preparation for the big event?” I’m only asking because Brylee’s had her fair share of earth-shattering moments. Brylee has never been too shy in the kiss and tell department.
She nods, considering this for a moment. “Shave everything from the neck down.”
“What?” I balk at her razor-sharp advice. “Oh wait, the only thing I don’t shave is my—”
“Exactly. Boys are more likely to explore the fun zone if it looks less like a jungle they might need a roadmap to get out of alive.”
“Oh really,” I say it curt. “Do you think he’s going to shave his fun zone using the same brand of logic? I think not. It’s totally sexist to suggest I lose the bush. By the way, nary a sharpened blade will get near my sweet spot.”
“Suit yourself.” She slaps her thighs as she sits up. “But when he pulls out a weed whacker to maneuver his way around your
“Anything else you feel the need to warn me about?” I sit up beside her. “Any other hair styling solutions my man might find pleasing and navigationally friendly?”
Brylee pushes her shoulder into mine. “You just called him your man.”
I take a breath at the thought. “I did, didn’t I?” I can feel my cheeks filling in with heat. “Hey, Bry—what do you think my dad would say if he knew Ace and I were dating?”
“I don’t know. He’s sort of gunning for Warren, I think we both know that.”
“True story.” And it breaks my heart.
“You know who else is gunning for Warren?” She slips a blonde curl behind her ear.
“Who?” My cheek rises on one side disapprovingly. “If you say it’s you, I’ll hurl all over your feet. I have higher standards for you.”
“Warren.” She taps my foot with hers. “He talked on and on this morning about how he felt like an ass and wanted to make it up to you.”
“Did he tell you what he did?” God, if he’s blabbing about our mattress mishap to anyone who’ll listen, I’ll die. It’s bad enough I confessed to Ace what happened.
“He mentioned something about coming on too strong. And, before you freak out it was just Neva and me.”
“Lovely.” I don’t like the thought of Warren letting Neva and Brylee in on what happened last night. “Did you guys have a pillow fight afterward? I mean, that’s what besties do, right?”
Brylee shakes her head at me. “Just go shape your hairy sweet spot into a heart, would you?” She hops off the bed. “I’ll be back in the morning for the dirty deets.” She heads out the door and pauses. “Oh, and happy endings!”
After what felt like hours of plucking, and shaving, and shaping—my entire body is hygienically clean enough to eat a meal off. Of course, I’m hoping to be the meal. My insides throb at the idea of what Ace and I might be doing later. I have a feeling it won’t take long to achieve that happy ending. I’m just hoping I can hold out long enough to make it worth his while.
I change into a sheer lace dress that stretches over each of my curves in the event Ace forgets where to land his special kisses, but before I bolt out the door, I hop on my bed a moment and do the unthinkable. I reach under my mattress and pull out the letters from my mother. I suppose there’s more than a brain malfunction going on when I’m about to get as close to having sex as possible, and here I am looking to steal a moment of quality time with my poor, sweet mother.
The envelopes slip through my fingers like butter. It warms me to think she touched these very things just days before her passing. She lost so much weight those last few months, and, in the end, she was nothing but skin over bones. I try not to remember her like that, her toothy grimace, her smooth, bald head. My mother was a beauty queen in the most literal sense—Miss Lake Loveless once upon a time, the knockout who stole my father’s heart. She had long, dark hair she could wrap around her neck like a scarf, and a body that men would routinely drool over. The cancer stole her looks before it took her life, but it couldn’t steal her beauty where it really counted, on the inside. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer just a few weeks before my twelfth birthday. I’ll never forget the long faces. The fear in her eyes that she would never see me blow out another candle.
I shake the bitter memory of those dark days out of my head if only for a moment.
Instead, I focus in on the loopy handwriting stamped across each one of these envelopes. It’s as familiar as seeing her face. I pluck the most recent letter out and open it—run my fingers over her precious penmanship before reading.
Dear Reese,
Happy Birthday!
Congratulations, you’re in your twenties! It’s going to be a magical decade—one laced with just about every new experience under the sun. This is the time in your life where you really discover who you are and what makes you tick, what you believe in, and the things you think are worth fighting for, dying for. But, like most girls your age, you’ll spend an abundance of your time thinking about love. There are so many different types of love, and I think we both know that I’m not talking about the kind of love Daddy and I have for you. What you’re probably looking for has a far more sensual meaning behind it. I want you to know, you have my blessing. And I hope you find exactly what you’re looking for with the exact person you desire it from most. But if it doesn’t come, don’t let it steal your joy. There’s so much happiness all around, so much unexpected wonder in the little things. That’s really what I want you to appreciate—the joy and the ecstasy in the little things. Find the ecstasy in life where you can. It’s in those moments you really live. All those other gaps in time are just filler until the next bout of delirium. You could find it just as easily in the silence as you could anywhere—it could be in the face of a perfect flower, in the scent of a fragrant spring morning. It could be in a kiss from a beautiful boy. All of those sweet moments make one hell of an adventure. And if life doesn’t offer you an adventure—make one happen.
Enjoy every moment.
Every precious breath is a thing of beauty. Cradle those you love in your heart, bury them there, and never let them go. Life is too short to forget about them even for a moment.
Love you forever,
Mommy
Tears run down my cheeks in long, hot streaks as I carefully replace the letters under my mattress. It was that last line, the one about burying the ones you love in your heart and never forgetting them that set the tone for my entire last year at Yeats. After grieving my mother once again, the next person I thought about was Ace. It was him I knew I never wanted out of my life, and I spent the entire livelong year pining after him like the lovesick schoolgirl I was. By Valentine’s Day I had mapped out exactly how this summer would go down. I would have begged on my knees if I had to, but I was determined to have him.
And, tonight, I will.
Mostly.
I skip downstairs to find the house empty. A lone vase sits on the table with two-dozen long stem roses spilling out from it like a bloodied waterfall.
A pink note sits on the table next to them, and I snap it up.
These came while you were gone.
~Ken
I pull the little white card from between the roses, and my thumb snags on a thorn and starts to bleed. I touch it to my lips and let the salty brine linger over my tongue before reading the card.
Reese,
Sorry about last night. Let’s talk.
Warren
I bury the card between the knife-sharp stems and walk right out the door.
It’s my time with Ace, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
I traverse the backwoods road to Ace’s family cabin, in heels no less, just to keep Warren from spotting me. Not that I care what Warren thinks, but if I’m seen out with Ace night after night people are going to talk, and God knows Loveless is as small a town as any. You’d think gossip were the most powerful currency around the way people kept an eye on it like it was in the Dow.
The smell of campfires burning from around the lake lights up my senses with the scent of smoky apple wood, hot dogs, and something sweet layered just beneath that. I love this mystical spell that only the mountain can cast—it brings out a fairytale atmosphere. The fires create a smokescreen with reality and makes this entire evening feel like I’ve crawled into a dream. Maybe I’ll wake up after all this, still in my dorm with the curtains drawn tight. But here I am on the way to see the only boy I’ve ever loved. It’s not a dream. It’s my new reality. This is the exact kind of midnight magic Ace accused me of that first night in the lake, and soon I’ll be experiencing it with him in the very best way.
I never thought Ace would cave so easily, and it makes me question whether or not his brain is the one malfunctioning.
The door to his cabin is wide open, so I lean in. “Knock, knock,” I say into a hole in the screen. The house is lit up a bright peach, and I can make out Neva lying on the couch, watching TV. Her pale leg hangs over the side, and she has a long, black dress on that reminds me of Morticia from the Adam’s family.
“It’s open,” she grumbles, so I let myself in. The air gives off a mix of refried oil and cigarettes, which doesn’t surprise me since both Neva and her dad are notorious chain smokers.
Neva inspects me from her supine position, never bothering with hello or even a middle finger. Go figure. I guess she’s going soft.
Her hair is ratted out over her head a good six inches, and her lids are covered in a dark, maroon eye shadow giving her that bruised effect I’m sure she’s after.
Neva didn’t morph into Satan’s spawn until about six months after she severed ties with me. I’m still not sure why the hell it went down the way it did. We played with Barbies all the way until fifth grade even though we swore we’d never tell another living soul and, honest to God, I questioned for months after she kicked me out of her life if it was some kind of Mattel-sponsored fury. I let Brylee in on our secret once, and I wondered if she said something. It was easier to try and blame Brylee for the split, all those years ago, especially since the only other alternative was myself.
“So”—I try to sound cheery—“you’ll never guess what I found the other day while digging in my jewelry box?” My throat constricts because I’ve said more words to her just now than I have in the last four years combined.
“Gold bullions?” She doesn’t bother with a smile, she just douses me with her death rays because, apparently, it’s par for the course.
My heart thumps. Neva just spoke to me directly, and it feels like a hard-won victory.
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