Beach Side Beds and Sandy Paths
Page 5
Me: We’ll see how that one goes
Nate: Hate to change the subject, but I’m freakin’ out
Me: Why?
Nate: Kaylee just sent me a text saying she’s at Planned Parenthood
Me: …
Nate: Yeah, my thoughts exactly
Me: Call her!
Nate: Tried. Not answering. Maybe she’s in w/the doc. I dunno. But shit…
Me: Yeah. Shit
Nate: What the hell do I do?
Me: Well, you guys were, you know, careful, right?
Nate: Yeah. I don’t go anywhere without at least ten on me
Me: Ten? Dude, where are you putting them?
Nate: Pocket, wallet, Kaylee’s purse
Me: You guys are freakin’ rabbits
Nate: Not helping
Me: Sorry. Maybe she’s tired of the rubbers
Nate: ?
Me: You know, pills
Nate: You think she’s getting on the pill?
Me: Maybe. Better than the alternative, right?
Nate: Hell yeah
Me: Has she been acting weird?
Nate: Weirder than normal?
Me: Lol. Yeah
Nate: Nah. Well… maybe. She sort of freaked the other day. It was nothing, tho. We were fine. We are fine
Me: When you what?
Nate: Nothing. Forget it. I’m gonna try to call her again
Me: Good luck
I don’t get anything else after that, so I hit a text to Lex, hoping she’s okay to talk.
Me: Hey, I miss you
Nothing. But she may be with Kaylee, and yeah… I’m not gonna mess with that till we know for sure what’s happening. Makes my mind shoot to what happened in my bed and damn… good thing we didn’t resort to sandwich bags.
And we won’t be resorting to anything anytime soon. Because after Lex left, I’ve been consumed with more guilt than I’ve ever felt. How could I treat the girl I love like that? Use her as a distraction instead of… well, it was wrong no matter how good it felt.
So, as much as my dick is gonna yell at me for it, I’m gonna cool it with Lex. But that’s easier said sitting here on a boat with Pop-pop and Brett than it is when she’s grinding on top of me.
“Hey Ryan! I got a bite!” Pop-pop shouts.
Yippee.
“I’ll help you with it,” Brett calls back.
Call it my ego or whatever, but as I crank my head over my shoulder and see Brett helping my Pop-pop in this real Hallmark Grandpa/Grandson moment thing, something churns in my gut, making me stumble like a damn fool across the boat to shove him out of the way.
I don’t make it four steps before I lose my footing and topple over the side of the boat. It’s too late to save myself, but I chuck my phone onto the deck before I smack the water ass first.
The lake is freeze-my-balls-off cold. And I’m pretty sure I just scared all the fish away. Pop-pop and Brett are stifling laughter, and the freezing water suddenly doesn’t seem so cold as heat rushes up the back of my neck.
“This is why you don’t bring a vegetarian fishing,” Pop-pop says, waving a hand out to me treading water. “Maneuvers like this just to save a few cutthroats.”
It’s immature as hell, but I send a wave of water up at them, which barely sprinkles their hands on the railing.
They both laugh again, and I become a raging inferno in the water.
“Come on.” Pop-pop grins and sticks his hand out for me. “Let’s get you home before your grandmother throws a fit over you getting sick before your trip.”
I freeze my ass off on the boat ride back to the docks, and squish my way to the Lincoln without a word. Pop-pop tosses me the keys and sits in the back with Brett. Like I’m some damn chauffeur. I catch Brett’s face in the rearview, his mouth cocked up at the corner and a slight shrug of his shoulder like he’s innocent. I almost run the red light in front of me.
We pull up to where Grams is sitting on the swing on the porch. She waves as I help Pop-pop climb out of the car and then scolds me as I try to shut the door in Brett’s face.
I want to beeline to the shower, but Pop-pop puts his arm up to stop me, letting Brett in the house first.
“What gives?” I spit, then quickly apologize after Grams shoots me a look.
“Your grandmother and I need to talk to you.”
“Can’t it wait till I’m dry?”
Pop-pop glances at Grams, and she shakes her head.
“Guess not, son.” He gestures over to the porch railing in front of Grams’ swing. I huff a breath and cross my arms. I don’t even have enough energy to wonder what this is about, or care either. If I’m about to get another lecture over being hospitable, I’ll bolt from this house right now.
The words Brett shouted at me the other day still ping through my head. My fists tighten. I’ve tried to explain to my grandparents why I don’t like him, why I don’t trust him, but they couldn’t care less. We’re going to be nice, because we’re “all he has.”
Keeping my mouth shut is about as nice as I’m going to get.
“Ryan, sweetie…”
Oh shit. Uncomfortable conversation ahead. I avert my eyes to my feet.
“Your trip is coming up, and Pop-pop and I…” Grams stops as Pop-pop throws out a very loud cough. “Okay, I think we need to talk about this… thing with Alexis.”
My mind has to play catch up. The “brother” talk was what I’d been expecting, and instead I’m getting the “girlfriend” talk.
“Uh, what ‘thing?’”
Pop-pop snorts then stifles it behind his hand. Grams purses her lips at him before looking at me again.
“You two are getting serious, right?”
“We’re already serious, Grams. I love her.”
Her face drains of color, and she rubs her neck, stretching out her wrinkles. “Um, yes we know. We… heard you two the other… well, we just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into.”
Wait? Heard what? What the hell is she talking about?
“Grams…”
“No need to explain, honey. I understand it’s not the old days when there had to be a ring on the finger before the consummation of a relationship.”
“The what?” I drop my arms and look at Pop-pop for help, which he doesn’t offer since he’s doubled over in laughter. “Grams, wait, Lex and I… we haven’t… it’s not…” Ah hell, I’m having this conversation with my grandma. After she heard… shit!
“I don’t want to know details.” She waves her hands in front of me and closes her eyes.
“There aren’t any details.”
“Okay, hun, that’s fine. But this trip… don’t think for one second you and Alexis are pulling the wool over our eyes. We know you’ll be in the same bed together.”
Can’t argue with her on that one.
“And even if there aren’t any details now…” She lets out a defeated breath and looks to Pop-pop for help.
He shakes his head and tucks an arm around her shoulders. “Just be careful, son. That’s all we’re saying.”
“I know. We’ve had this talk before.”
“Before you had a girlfriend. And before this unsupervised trip.”
“Nate’s brother will be there,” I mutter as a pathetic attempt to get them to stop the sex talk.
“Still, we want you to take this,” Grams says, handing me… shit, she’s handing me a condom. My grandparents are handing me rubber. And not just one rubber. “Oh, and these.” She hands me a few more, different colors, sizes, and brands while Pop-pop stifles more laughter. There are so many she’s putting in my hands, they’re sliding between my fingers and falling on the porch.
“Geez, May. How many do you think he needs?” Pop-pop says through snorts.
She drops her voice to a whisper, but I can still hear her. “Well, how am I supposed to know what size he is? I haven’t seen the thing since he was in toilet trainers.”
I’m bolting off the porch now. I’m still soa
king wet from the lake, and I am way done with this conversation.
“Thanks, Grams, but I won’t need these.” Because I won’t. And because I don’t want to shove them all under her nose, I let them fall to the porch.
Pop-pop picks one up and sticks it in my hand. “Just for our peace of mind?”
I roll my eyes, but fist the condom anyway, thinking the rubber it’s made out of weighs a hundred pounds.
“And here,” Grams says, pulling something else from her bag. What else does she want to bestow on me? “I want you to take this with you too.” She slaps a thick book in my hand. The gold lettering glints in the sunset light.
The Holy Bible
There’s no stopping my feet now. Shower is my destination, and I’m not let anything stop me from getting there.
***
I was hoping the hot water would drown out all the anger I have pulsing through my body. Normally, that conversation with Grams and Pop-pop would’ve had me rolling with my grandpa, with equal amounts of amusement and embarrassment. But ever since Brett showed up, I can’t help but feel just so mad all the time.
And it pisses me off that I’m mad about dumb shit. It’s not who I am.
I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose. Walking around in just my boxers and undershirt, I pace my room and toy with my phone. Should I call Lex? Can I bug her with this? Can I have her over here without using her, but actually talking with her? I don’t know if I can. I don’t want to be angry. I want it all to go away… she’s the only one who does that for me.
But I’m not going to use her. I won’t even kiss her. I just need to hold her. Hold her all night. Hold on to the one thing in my life that doesn’t make me angry.
I tap my screen and press the phone to my ear. It’s late, but she’ll answer, even if she’s sleeping.
“Hey, Ry. Sorry I didn’t text back.”
I smile just from the sound of her voice, sappy as that is.
“That’s okay.”
“I miss you, too, though, if that counts several hours later.”
“It does.”
Man, my voice is shaky, and my eyes are watering. I hate that I act like a pussy when I get overwhelmed.
“Are you okay?”
She can always tell when I’m not, so I don’t lie my ass off.
“Not really. Can you come over? I need you.”
“Ry…” She sighs, and I know what look she’s got on her face. She’s pulling on her ring and giving a semi-pout, her big brown eyes getting glossed over.
She can’t.
“I’m sorry, I’m out with my mom right now. She’s having a rough night.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I’ll just see you tomorrow.”
“No wait, don’t be upset.”
“I’m not.” Because I’m not. Not with her.
“Ryan…”
“Really, it’s okay. Take care of your mom. I’ll still be here tomorrow.” If Grams doesn’t castrate me in my sleep.
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I hang up before she can feel bad any more about me. She’s got enough to deal with. She doesn’t need my crap too.
Throwing myself on the bed, I set my phone to silent because I know Lex will call as soon as she can, and I’m hoping to be dead asleep when she does.
Chapter 8
Lexie
The color is back in Mom’s cheeks. It’s amazing what a burger from Skippy Lee’s can do for a girl. Funny, how only a few months ago I wouldn’t be caught dead with Mom at the local hangout, but she’s not the town drunk anymore. I’m proud of her. People should know that.
Her hands still shake, but she kept her composure when she couldn’t keep her water from sloshing over the sides. I got her a straw, and the problem was solved. Still I could see frustration pulling at the corners of her eyes. She’s going through hell. If I could I would switch places with her. Take away the pain, the shakes, the insatiable urge to give up and go back to the bottle.
I take the blanket off the back of the couch and lay it across her. Lately the only time she seems to be at peace is when she’s sleeping. I’m not going to wake her just so she can move to her bed. Besides she’s spent so many nights on the couch it’s basically her bed anyway.
I tiptoe to my room and ease the door shut. She doesn’t need me anymore tonight, but there’s someone who does.
I’ve known Ryan long enough to detect any discontent in his tone. Tonight he might as well have opened my bottle of ‘Need Sunglasses’ nail polish and painted “I’m miserable” on the wall.
Normally I would let it go—go to sleep and talk to him in the morning. But if it was the other way around, he would be waiting at my window for me to get home, ready to jump in, take me in his arms, and hold me until I didn’t want to be held anymore. Why does it always have to be the guy who is the knight in shining armor? I want to be the warrior princess in a glittery tiara.
It’s been awhile since I’ve climbed out my bedroom window and when I realized Mom was serious about the whole getting sober thing, I decided my window escaping days were over. I’m taking it back though, just for tonight.
I pull on one of Ryan’s hoodies I stole and will never give back— it smells too good and fits just right— then jump up on my dresser, reach for the perfect topping to my surprise, and slide out into the cool spring evening. Stars sparkle in the dark sky, and I make my way to the shed.
Even though I haven’t ridden my bike since I got my license, and Ryan fixed up Roger’s old car for me, my landlord still has it stored. The key is still under the planter, the lock still barely out of my reach. I rise on tip toe and unlatch the door to my past.
The pink handle bars with the flower stickers Ryan gave me when we were twelve rest up against the back wall. I move past the lawn mower and just like I did so many nights before, I wheel my bike out.
These past few months we’ve been so focused on the future, on college, and what’s next, we’ve forgotten about all the things that got us to this point. Tonight I want Ryan to remember how easy it once was to push all the negativity aside and just be happy with each other.
The wind blows my hair behind me as I steer my bike past my car. I never thought I’d even have a car and I probably wouldn’t if it wasn’t for Roger and Ryan.
I turn onto the street and close my eyes for a second, a smile tugging so hard at the corners of my lips I can’t help but laugh.
The desire to see Ryan just reached an all time high. I pedal harder, faster, and if I cut down Stewart Street, I’ll be there in five minutes flat. A left on Stewart and a right on Johnson and I pull up in front of Ryan’s.
I hop off my bike and wheel it along the perimeter of the house, far enough away so the motion detector lights don’t sense me. The Lincoln is in the driveway with the hood still up. Ryan has been busting his cute butt to get that thing ready for our trip.
It’s dark and the hydrangea bushes help keep me hidden.
Butterflies kick up in my stomach when I turn the corner and see Ryan’s lights still on. Twenty bucks, he’s pacing his room, hand rubbing the back of his neck raw.
I ease the bike down and sneak along the house to his window. I’d be twenty bucks richer if I had someone to make the bet with.
I don’t knock right away. There’s something about watching him when he thinks no one can see him. He’s not putting on an act. Not pretending everything is okay. The tension in his jaw is pulled tight, the veins in his arms bulging and that damn hand is burrowing a hole in his neck. Not to mention he’s stripped down to his boxers and a T-shirt and wow. Just wow.
He runs his hands through his hair, lifting his shirt, and my eyes linger on his happy trail before following the path to his eyes. There’s no lying to me now. He’s stressed. Whether he’ll admit it or not that’s a different story. I’m not holding my breath though. But that’s not why I’m here.
Ryan paces to the end of the room and when he makes an about face, I
knock. The tension in his jaw vanishes, his hand drops from his neck and that sparkle he gets whenever I take him by surprise lights up his face.
I give my usual awkward wave, and he very carefully and quietly opens his window.
He cups my cheek, and I like to think it’s because when it comes to me he can’t resist the skin on skin contact. “What are you doing here?”
It takes all my restraint to keep from running my hands across his chest and attacking him with my lips. “I missed you tonight.”
“I missed you, too.” He leans over the windowsill and presses his lips to mine. My mind goes blank, every intention of not making this about sex flies out the window and is somewhere with my bike.
Desperate to run my hands down his chest, I move closer to the window. My fingers scale his skin and hook behind his neck. He pulls me closer, lifting me up until I’m no longer in the window but in his arms.
He breaks away and rests his forehead on mine. “Sorry.” Mint breath warms against my cheek.
“For what?”
“I can’t help myself when I’m around you.”
“And you’re apologizing for that?” I grab his face and guide his lips back to mine. We start moving until I’m on the bed, Ryan on top of me. His hands travel the curves of my body and a low moan escapes between kisses.
Ryan snaps back, his eyes a mix of horror and humor. I’ve moaned before, and he’s never had this reaction. It’s normal, isn’t it? I mean it just slipped, it’s not like I was trying to act all sexy.
Embarrassed, I crawl away from him, resting my back against his headboard. I grab his pillow and hug it into my body.
“What are you doing?” he asks, reaching for the pillow.
I shrug.
“Lex, what’s the matter?”
“The way you looked at me when I…I…moaned.”
He starts laughing. “Come here.” He lifts his arm up, and I crawl into his warmth. “Grams and Pop-pop kind of had a talk with me today.”
“About what?”
His fingers go to the back of his neck, rubbing back and forth, back and forth. “How they heard you the other day.”