by Lauren Layne
Reece had come for a sleepover with Craig, but Craig had gotten sick less than hour after Reece arrived, barfing up all his grilled cheese and tomato soup.
Lucy felt terrible for thinking it, but she was a little bit glad that Craig got sick. She never had Reece all to herself.
“So what’s up?” he asked.
She fiddled with the Popsicle wrapper and tried to think of something to talk to him about that wouldn’t seem too babyish or girlish.
“My class had a career day today. Shelley’s dad is a firefighter and he brought in a real hose for us to look at.”
“Cool.”
He didn’t sound that impressed.
“My mom came in too. To talk about grapes.”
He looked a little more interested in that. “I like grapes.”
She gave a sheepish look at the grape Popsicle she’d stolen from him, and quickly changed the subject. “You want to go into the industry?”
The industry around their town referred to the wine business. According to Lucy’s mom, Charlottesville, Virginia, was an up-and-comer on the wine scene.
“Yeah, I guess,” Reece said, finishing off his Popsicle and chewing idly on the flat wooden stick. “My dad used to work at the wineries, and his old boss came over the other day. Told me to call him if I ever wanted a job.”
“So that’s what you want to be when you grow up?” she asked eagerly. She loved talking about being a grown-up. “A winemaker?”
He looked annoyed and shrugged. “I guess. I don’t care.”
Lucy was puzzled. How could he not care? “I want to sell people the wine,” she said, hoping that if she told him her dreams, he’d tell her his. “And I’ll wear tall shoes, and I’ll wear a skirt every day, and my hair will be perfect,” she said, running a hand over her chronically messy ponytail.
“Cool.”
Lucy frowned. “What about you? What do you want?”
“I just told you. To get a job.”
“No, I know, but like who do you want to be?” she asked. “What do you dream about? What’s your endgame?”
Reece scratched his head. “Endgame?”
Lucy nodded enthusiastically, excited to share her new vocabulary. “It’s from chess. My grandpa taught it to me. It’s like the final stage of your plan.”
Reece turned and gave her a stare so flat it made her tummy hurt. “I don’t have a plan. I don’t have an endgame.”
Lucy’s tummy hurt harder. “But surely there’s something you want?”
His small shoulders shrugged. “Wouldn’t matter. I never get anything I want.”
Chapter 33
Reece
“Okay, I’ve gotta say, we really should have started the whole sharing-a-room plan earlier,” Lucy says, setting her bag down in the Las Vegas hotel room. “The bathroom in this place is bigger than last night’s motel room.”
I don’t argue as I drop my own bag, going to the wide windows and looking out at the Las Vegas Strip. We’d splurged on a room at the Paris hotel, and Lucy had sweet-talked the front desk into an enormous suite facing the Bellagio fountains.
I’m not much of a gambler, so Vegas has never been on my bucket list or anything, but I have to admit, it’s pretty cool.
Lucy comes up behind me, her arms wrapping around my waist, and my hand finds the top of her hand, and I feel a little stab of panic about how natural the gesture feels.
Don’t get used to it, man.
It’s a refrain I’ve been playing on repeat over the past few days as our routine’s gone from circling each other like wary animals, to, well…screwing like animals.
And that’s not even accurate. Not really. Sure, we kept each other up all night long in both Cheyenne and Salt Lake motel rooms, but the days have been pretty great too.
It feels like we’re getting to know each other again, and it feels good. Or at least it does when she doesn’t start badgering me about plans.
I know I shouldn’t have bitten her head off with her stupid endgame questions, but damn it. Why the hell can’t she just let it be? Let me be?
Why can’t I just be good enough as I am?
My fingers tighten reflexively on her hand, and she eases around so she’s standing in front of me, her gaze wary. “You okay?”
I force a smile. “I’ll be more okay once I get you naked and into the two-person shower.”
She doesn’t smile back. “Look, Reece, I’ve been trying to avoid the topic since you freak out every time I mention it, but we’ve only got a couple nights left on the road.”
My chest tightens in panic. “I’m aware.”
I’m more than aware that I’ve only got a couple days left before your real life starts.
Lucy takes a breath. “Okay, I get that guys aren’t known for talking about their feelings, but you’ve got to give me some indication of where your head’s at.”
“In a few minutes, I’m thinking it’ll be between your thighs,” I say, my hands sliding down to cup her ass, pulling her toward me.
Lucy’s not having it and steps back. “Is that all this is? Sex? I can take it if it is, just…tell me now.”
Despite her brave words, her voice is small, and it tears at me.
I close my eyes and rub my hands over my head. “Shit, I don’t know, Luce. I’m not good at this.”
“Nobody’s good at this, Reece. Relationships are hard, and I can do hard, but I’m just trying to decide if I should even bother with you.” I open my mouth, but she lifts a warning finger. “Do not make some smartass comment about me doing hard. I’m trying to talk to you.”
I’d forgotten how persistent this girl can be when she wants something. I just wish she’d learn that I’ve never been any good at giving her what she wants.
“Give me a break here, Luce,” I say, striving to keep my tone light. “A little over a week ago you and I weren’t even speaking to each other. A few days ago, we couldn’t speak to each other without wanting to kill one another. You can’t expect me to have it all figured out.”
My answer isn’t what she wants. I knew it before I said it, and the way her face crumples just a little bit confirms it.
It also destroys me. But how the hell am I supposed to put it all out there when she won’t?
I’m not an idiot. Lucy Hawkins wants me; she cares about me. But I also notice that she doesn’t use words like forever when it comes to me.
I’m not her endgame. Never have been.
We stare at each other for long moments, and with a sigh, I start to reach for her, then let my arms drop. “For someone that’s doing an awful lot of pushing for conversation, I don’t hear you saying much of anything.”
She takes a long breath. “You’re right. I’m scared.”
I swallow, and nod once. Yeah. Me too.
And though I know it’s the coward’s way out, though I know it’s less than she deserves, I reach for her.
I may not have a clue about how to tell her how I feel—I’m not sure I can even tell myself. But I can show her.
Chapter 34
Lucy
My head drops back with a moan as Reece’s mouth glides down my neck, his hands sliding to the small of my back, pulling me against him.
I know what he’s doing. I know what we’re both doing. We’re taking the easy way out, expressing ourselves with hands and mouths instead of words, but for now, I let it be enough.
I kiss him back with everything, and Reece senses my desperation, pulling back slightly and giving me a searching look, framing my face with his big hands and resting his forehead on mine. “You okay?”
No! No, not okay. I’m falling in love with you all over again, and I don’t know that you’re falling back.
I nod, and his eyes narrow at the lie, his thumbs drifting over my cheekbones, his eyes following the tender motion.
His lips replace his thumbs, and he rains soft kisses along my cheek, my temple, before kissing me again, soft and sweet.
And then I realize he is a
nswering, just not with words.
My heart clenches as I realize what’s happening here. He’s saying goodbye, or at least beginning the process.
Hot as the past couple nights have been, even downright raunchy, it’s been all about sex, carnal and earthy, maybe even a little angry at times.
Me, angry at him for the past. Him angry at me for holding on to the past.
Tonight, though…
Tonight is different. Tonight is about the fact that in just a couple days we’ll be done with the road trip. Done with each other.
The thought makes me want to weep, and with something akin to a sob, I kiss him back, my own hands framing his face in the same way he holds mine. I want to tell him that he’s beautiful to me, that he’s everything.
I want to beg him to undo the past, I want to stop remembering what it felt like when he cheated. I want to go back to when I was eighteen and so in love with this boy that I thought nothing could ever break us.
The kiss changes. Still sweet, but a little desperate now too, and his hands slide over me, his palms cupping my breasts before he slides them down farther, tugging the dress up and over my head and tossing it aside.
Reece groans a little at the sight of my underwear. Polka dots again, but grown-up. It’s a pink satin thong with black lace dots and a little bow at the top. He lightly drags his fingers over the fabric and I whimper, torn between needing him now, and wanting this to last all night.
He’s wearing a blue checked button-down, which I manage to get undone as he continues to explore the tiny scrap of my panties.
Reece’s hands slide back up my body, but I push them aside, gripping his wrists as I let my lips explore his perfect upper body.
He’s strong enough to throw me off in an instant, but he stands perfectly still, his only movement the quickening of his breathing as I kiss every inch of him I can reach.
I reluctantly let go of his hands, only so that I can unfasten his jeans, reaching inside and cupping him over the fabric of his boxers as I look up and meet his eyes.
Reece swears softy, kissing me hard before pulling my hand aside, scooping me into his arms, and carrying me easily to the bed.
I reach for him again, but he shakes his head, holding me still with only his gaze as he kicks off his shoes and ditches the pants and boxers.
Reece is wonderfully naked as he slowly lowers himself on top of me, once again kissing my mouth as though he’s a starving man.
We break contact only long enough for me to arch up so he can undo my bra, and then his mouth is on me, kissing my breasts as his fingers slide beneath my panties, teasing me with soft strokes.
Through the almost unbearable pleasure, I feel his eyes on me, as though committing my every moan and sigh to memory. When he finally pulls my underwear down my legs, that too is slow, sensual.
Reece settles between my thighs, but I catch him off guard, pressing both hands against his chest, somehow managing to roll him onto his back.
I straddle him, loving the way his eyes darken as I lower myself over him, taking him in hand, rubbing him against me before lowering myself onto him.
Finally, he’s all the way inside me, and the room’s filled with the sound of our labored breathing as we both strive for restraint, wanting the moment to last.
His hands curve around my hips, but he doesn’t move, somehow understanding that I need this my way. I take the control he’s offering, rocking my hips onto his in rolling, needy motions.
My head falls back as I ride him harder, and he lets me, his hands everywhere. My waist, my hips, my breasts, rubbing my clit.
I cry out, my release so close, and at the last minute, he rears up to a sitting position, one arm wrapping around my waist, the other around my head as he thrusts inside me, taking my mouth in a kiss at the exact moment we both explode, coming together in an orgasm like nothing I’ve ever felt.
Like nothing I’ll ever feel again.
For long moments, neither of us moves. I’m draped over his shoulder, breathing hard into his neck as he holds me close, his breath moving in rapid pants against me, until slowly he lowers us back to the bed.
I mean to look at him. I mean to make some saucy comment, but all I want to do is cry.
Reece seems to understand—maybe even feels the same. Because he doesn’t talk either, only pulls me against his side, and after a distracted kiss to the top of my head, exhales with something that sounds very much like despair.
Chapter 35
Reece
Craig picks up on the second ring. “Hey, man! Where you at? I’ve barely heard from you.”
“L.A.,” I say, sitting back on the hotel bed and reaching for the remote, turning on the TV and flipping around idly until I find the Dodgers game.
Craig laughs. “Damn, Spock really did drag you out of the way, huh? At least you’re in California.”
“Yeah.”
I don’t tell my best friend that I’m looking forward to my final destination a lot less than I was two weeks ago.
“Got any plans? Seeing the Hollywood sign, that sort of shit? I’m sure Spock’s got a bucket list in each city.”
“Not sure what the plan is for later,” I lie. Lucy’s been talking all day about some fancy restaurant known for its celebrity sightings that she wants to try.
I agreed to that, although I drew the line at going shopping with her, which is how I’ve ended up with a few minutes to myself to check in with Craig.
I was hoping that talking to him would distract me from her, but I’ve realized my mistake. If you’re trying to not think about a girl, don’t call her fucking brother.
“She’s driving me nuts,” I say, before I can think better of it.
He gives a startled laugh. “Yeah, Spock does that sometimes.”
“No, I don’t mean in the annoying-little-sister way,” I say, pacing in short, agitated movements.
Craig’s laugh breaks off. “Then how do you mean it?”
I stop pacing, tilt my head back, and stare up at the plaster ceiling, debating the wisdom of what I’m about to say.
He may be my best friend, but we’re not really the chat-on-the-phone types. We’ve never had to be. Apart from during the four years Craig was in college, we’ve always been a twenty-minute drive away from each other, more inclined to catch up over a beer and a game than have a long, girly chat on the phone.
And yet everything that’s happening with Lucy, I’ve been feeling so overwhelmed with…something. I just need to talk it out, and it says a hell of a lot about my life that I only have one option.
“Craig, I’ve gotta tell you something,” I say, closing my eyes and praying for mercy.
“You slept with my sister.”
Damn. He’s not my best friend for nothing. The guy knows me.
I clench my teeth as I shove my hand in my back pocket, forcing myself to be straight with my friend. “Yeah.”
I hear a sigh, followed by something that sounds like a gum wrapper. The slight chomping noise that follows confirms that he’s chomping on the wintergreen gum he’s loved since the sixth grade. “Thought that fizzled out a long time ago.”
I close my eyes. “You knew about that too?”
“Unfortunately,” he mutters. “Nobody knows the intentions of a nineteen-year-old boy like another nineteen-year-old boy.”
“You never said anything.”
“Because it grossed me out.”
“But you didn’t stop it,” I say, a little incredulous.
Craig’s silent for a minute, probably uncomfortable. “I dunno. I guess I thought…thought you two were good for each other. Always figured it would happen eventually. None of us were surprised.”
Another surprise. “ ‘Us’? Your family knows.”
“Yup.”
I run my hand over my hair. “Good Christ. And they let me take this road trip with her, knowing I was the one—”
“Nope,” Craig interrupts. “Don’t say it. I prefer to never ever know a
single detail. But yeah, the road trip was parental interference at its finest.”
I wait for my brain to catch up. “Does Lucy know they know?”
“Nope. Well, she talked to Brandi about it. But, like you, Spock overestimated you guys’ teenage stealth. Mom and Dad have known from the very beginning.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, suddenly replaying the past few years. Realizing that every time I sat in their kitchen, let them feed me beer and chili, they knew I’d hooked up with their daughter.
Still, around the shock and dismay, there’s also a little bit of relief. It’s never felt right, having them trust me so implicitly while I thought I was keeping a crucial secret.
“So if you knew we were together back then, you have to know that we’ve been very much not together for the past few years.”
“Sure. And I accepted it. The parents, not so much.”
Everything clicks into place. “This road trip was a matchmaking attempt.”
“That’s putting it mildly. Wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if Mom’s had your wedding invitation picked out for a decade, and if Dad plans to give you my grandfather’s watch instead of me.”
The thought of being a part of the Hawkins family for real…being connected through marriage to Lucy…
The vision nearly chokes me, not with horror so much as with…
I shove the thought away.
“Well, they’re going to be disappointed,” I say.
“Because she’s driving you nuts,” he says, bringing our conversation full circle.
“She’s gotten all fancy-pants since she went off to school. Thinks that because she has a piece of paper about hospitality that she’s better than the rest of us.”
“She said that?” he asks.
“No,” I grumble. “But she’s out shopping right now for work clothes for the new job.”
“And?”
“My work clothes are boots, jeans, and my oldest shirts. Hers are high heels and…I don’t even know.”
“Never bothered you before.”
I take in a deep breath. Maybe he doesn’t know me as well as I thought he did. “It’s always fucking bothered me,” I say quietly.
