“No worries. I wasn’t planning on it.”
“My heavens, Tatum . . . he said things that made me blush.”
“Impressive. You’ll have to tell me about it sometime—later. Or never.”
It had become slightly harder to keep a straight face, but I wasn’t a quitter. I pressed on, avoiding eye contact, knowing one glance at her and I’d lose my composure. “And his stamina . . .” I shaped my lips into an O, cheeks hollow, and fanned myself. “Holy shit. He could give the Energizer Bunny a run for its money. He just kept going and going and—”
“Going. Yeah . . . I vaguely remember those commercials.”
“Oh, and his body. Sweet baby Jesus, Tater. Words cannot describe his body.”
“Good. Then we’re done here.” She stood, but I grabbed her wrist, preventing her from leaving. “What? You just said there were no words to describe it, so why try? What’s the point in sitting here while you attempt to tell me about something that defies language? It’s a waste of time.”
A smile broke free on my lips. “Seriously, Tatum. While all those things are true, I was just messing with you. But I do need you. I need you to tell me that I’m not a slut.”
“You’re not a slut.”
“And mean it.”
Her head dropped back at the same time a groan filtered past her lips. She sank onto the mattress and threw herself back, arms stretched out above her. “I do mean it, Kels. You’re allowed to go out and have a good time, even if it ends with you naked and his penis in your vagina . . . as long as you enjoyed yourself.”
I patted her thigh. “Thanks, bestie. You’re awesome. World’s greatest pep talker who ever lived.” The sarcasm was thick.
“You know, you’re mean when you’re hungover.”
Giving up, I fell back onto the mattress next to Tatum and turned my head to look at her. “We agreed we wouldn’t share names, so I don’t even know who he is.”
“Would it change anything if you knew his name?”
“Yeah. If I knew who he was, I’d hit him up for a repeat. He was amazing. I wasn’t exaggerating about that. Then again, that could totally get out of hand. It might lead to me paying him to have sex instead of going to a gig . . . that’s a line I won’t cross. A thin line. Slightly blurry. Faint. But a line all the same.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before setting her sights on me again. “Then I guess it’s a good thing you don’t have his name. Anyway . . . how were his dance moves? Anything like Magic Mike?”
“If Magic Mike had two left feet and were deaf, sure.” I laughed and held my head to keep the drums inside my skull from getting worse. “Oh my God, Tater . . . he had the guy play the worst music. I’m talking about crap that was before our time. You know that one song that goes like . . . That’s the way, uh-uh uh-huh, I like it, uh-huh uh-huh? That kinda music.”
“That’s bad.” She tried to keep a straight face but lost after two seconds. “I realize I don’t have much experience with strippers or the music they dance to, but I can’t imagine a professional taking their clothes off to the likes of ‘Tootsee Roll’ unless their act doubled as a comedy show. Is that what he was? A comedian?”
“I wish I could say yes. But I can’t.”
Tatum sat up and dropped her head into her hands, her shoulders jumping with the amusement that rolled through her. “Now I wish I had been there to see it.”
“You would’ve been entertained.” I dragged myself up until we sat side by side. “I don’t know why you like that lamp. It’s hideous.”
She pointed to the duck with the shade over its head and quirked a brow my way. “It’s so cute. How do you not like it? I bet it’s a collector’s item.”
“Yeah, if you were a garbage collector.”
Tatum reached out and opened the top drawer, finding a leather-bound book inside. “What’s this?” She fanned through the blank pages as though it were a new novel from the library. “Looks like a journal no one ever used.”
A memory sparked in my mind, one I’d locked away years ago. I grabbed it out of her hands and opened to the very first page, checking the name that had been written in blue ink. Kelsey Peterson. “My grandmother gave this to me when I was in high school. I forgot all about it.”
“How did it end up in here?”
I shrugged and closed the book. “Who knows. My mom probably found it when she cleaned out this room after I left.”
“You gonna keep it?”
I held it up and said, “Why not? It’s mine, after all.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Hell if I know. But I’m willing to bet it’ll be amazing, whatever it is.”
Chapter 3
Aaron
Jason stepped into the party bus, took one look at the two gleaming poles, and shook his head. “I swear to you, Aaron . . . if you got a stripper, I’m gone.”
I playfully shoved his shoulder, pushing him farther into the bus. “You weren’t specific about that.”
The bus began to roll away from the curb, setting us off balance on our feet. Jason grabbed one of the poles to keep from falling on his ass and grimaced, as if he’d just contracted a disease from touching it.
“Warming it up for her?” I joked.
He flipped me off just as the bus darkened. In an instant, colorful strobe lights danced from the ceiling and added to the bright lamppost glow that crept in through the heavily tinted windows. Club music thumped through the speakers, filling the space with a steady beat, but not one we couldn’t talk over.
“For a neuropsychologist, you’re rather dumb.” The grin stretching from ear to ear informed me that he wasn’t serious. Then again, he was my best friend—I’d known him since high school—so there weren’t many insults he could sling my way that would be taken seriously. “I specifically told you that Tatum and I had agreed no strippers.”
“Yeah, but that’s rather ambiguous if you think about it.”
With a heavy plop, we sat across from each other. He stared for a moment, mouth agape, narrowed eyes set on me and sending listless questions my way.
I didn’t break eye contact once.
It was a match to the death—I’d always been good at this game.
Finally, he blinked and asked, “How so?”
I leaned back, settling in with my hands clasped behind my head. “Well, it’s unclear if that also includes women who are already naked. If you think about it, she wouldn’t be stripping . . . because she wouldn’t have on any clothes.”
Jason didn’t hesitate to stand, demanding the driver stop and pull over. “I’m getting out.”
“I’m just giving you a hard time. Sit back down, dumbass.”
“Dumbass? Me?” He grabbed the pole and whipped around, then realized what he had his hand on and yanked it back as though it had scorched his palm. “Next to you, I’m a certified genius. The only thing saving your reputation is the extra years you put in for a fancy title.”
His smile gave him away; meanwhile, mine stayed in check, even as I tossed around a few different ways to give him a hard time about his job. “You sure are, Jason. Tell me, how’s the landfill treating you?”
With a groan, he reclaimed his seat. “I should’ve never looked you up when I moved back.”
“Imagine how insanely boring your life would’ve been had you not.”
He pinned me with his doubtful stare. “I’m serious, Aaron . . . if you have something stupid up your sleeve, tell me now.”
I held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“Why do you do that? You were never a Boy Scout.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t have the same honor they do. You should understand that more than anyone.” It took significant self-control to fight off my smirk when he tipped his head in question. “Just because you have a small dick doesn’t mean you can’t fuck the ladies like the big boys do.”
“Are you jealous, Aaron?” A wicked grin spread across his lips. “List
en, just because you can’t please a woman in the bedroom doesn’t mean every other guy has a small dick. I’m pretty sure part of a Scout’s honor is taking responsibility. If you can’t perform, you don’t have anyone to blame but yourself. Don’t hate on others who can satisfy a woman.”
“Psh . . . I rocked a chick’s world last weekend,” I boasted, excited to finally have someone to tell. Noel, my assistant at the office, didn’t seem to care much. But Jason? He’d care. Maybe.
“Oh yeah? Have you heard from her since?” Okay, so he didn’t care at all.
“No, but that’s only because we agreed it would be that one night, and then we’d never see each other again. She didn’t even tell me her name.”
“I’m not sure that does much to prove your point.” He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “If you were that amazing, she would want to do it again and again. I should know . . . Tatum can’t get enough of me.”
“For your information, we set those rules before we left the club.”
He grinned in satisfaction. “Ah . . . so you met this chick at a club. Was she drinking?”
“Not the point.”
“Whose idea was it to keep it anonymous and never see each other again?”
“Hers. But again, that’s not the point.”
“And then after you rocked her world, as you say, did she change her mind about it only being one night?”
I glared at him, burning my feigned annoyance into his face. “No. But she told me over and over how no one has ever fucked her the way I did. In fact, she said all kinds of things—sexy things. Dirty things. And she was a freak. But in a good way.”
Before he had his arms stretched out along the back of the bench, I could tell he had something witty to say. His slow-forming smirk told me so. But I let him have his moment. After all, this back-and-forth ribbing was what had kept us friends for so long. In a weird way, it was the most genuine relationship I’d ever had with anyone, despite the fact that we had gone years without speaking while we each pursued a career. When it came to everyone else in my life, I was a fraud, even when I didn’t mean to be.
“So you were the best she’s ever had, yet she didn’t want to see you again?”
I shrugged and played into his game. “You’re twisting the whole thing to make it sound bad. You see, what had happened was”—I had to look at something other than his face before I lost my composure and laughed too soon—“we had agreed ahead of time that we would be real and honest, not hold anything back. And we were able to do that because we didn’t know each other. No matter how great the sex was, a repeat would never work out.”
“Why not?”
“Think about it. If you knew ahead of time that you’d never see someone again, you’d have no inhibitions, no reason to impress them. And on the flip side, you’d feel no need to lie to them. It’s far easier to just tell them like it is without worry.”
His head bobbed as he listened to what I had to say, entertaining my deductive reasoning for the time being. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t come back at the end with some insult we’d both get a good laugh from, though.
“It was rather liberating.” That didn’t come close to describing my night with her. “I didn’t have to worry about never hearing from her again, because I already knew I wouldn’t. And she got to play out her fantasy, pretend I was whoever she wanted me to be, say whatever she wanted, all without any fear of judgment.”
“That all makes tons of sense. Really, Aaron, I’m impressed with the logic behind this. I’m also wondering why you’ve never gone about sex with that mentality before. But what I’m most curious about is . . . how would you know if anything she said to you—such as saying you were the best she’s ever had—was the truth? If she was pretending you were someone else, she might’ve faked that part, too.”
“Doubtful. I knocked her socks off. If she had a way to find me, she’d tell me herself.”
“Did this all happen in the parking lot or something?”
I narrowed my stare for a moment before I realized what he’d asked. “What? No. I took her back to her place.”
Jason couldn’t hold back his laughter. He went from having an amused grin to head back, arm wrapped around his waist, halfway fallen over in a fit of hysterics. After a minute or two, he finally calmed enough to explain what he’d found so funny. “You know where she lives?”
“Yeah, so?”
He shook his head, amusement still rumbling from his chest. “But you were supposed to keep it anonymous? How can you do that if there’s nothing stopping you from knocking on her door? Hell, why haven’t you done that? If the sex was so amazing, you should be beating down her door.”
I wouldn’t admit just how many times I’d contemplated doing that very thing. Granted, I couldn’t remember exactly where her apartment was, but it wasn’t like I couldn’t figure it out if I wanted. In truth, I did want to. But there would’ve been no point. At the end of the day, she was the same as all the others—believing for one reason or another that I was someone else. They heard doctor and assumed my days consisted of reaching inside someone’s chest and saving their life with my bare hands while earning at least half a million dollars a year. She didn’t think that, though. No . . . she just thought I took my clothes off for money.
I wasn’t sure which was worse.
“Have you not listened to a word I said? The sex wouldn’t be the same. It was so good because we didn’t have things like rejection or judgment getting in the way. I was able to tie her up and call all the shots, take complete control. Whereas if I try doing that again, there’s the worry that it won’t be as good as the last time. Or maybe she was only that vocal because she’d had a few drinks, and the next time, she’d be sober and quiet, making me question everything I did. It’s always best to go out like Mikey—on top. Leave it as the best night of our lives and move on, always remembering the time that no other can compare to.”
The bus came to a stop in front of a house. Through the window, I could see a guy walking down the driveway, and I assumed that meant this conversation had ended, which I was perfectly fine with. Jason didn’t need to know the extent of my pathetic sex life. He’d always assumed I had no problems getting laid, and I never felt the need to correct him.
“This thing is huge, Jason.” The guy’s eyes lit up as he took note of the interior on his way toward us at the back of the bus. “How many people are we picking up? I thought you wanted to keep this low key.”
“I did. But this asshat over here”—Jason pointed to me—“doesn’t understand the definition of low key. We were actually just talking about his need to overcompensate for the smaller things in his life.”
A barking laugh ripped through my chest. “It’s called mirroring, not compensating.”
“You don’t have to lie to Nick, Aaron. It’s okay. Just pretend you won’t see him after tonight and be yourself.” If he wasn’t my best friend, I would’ve told him off. But since he was, I settled for giving him the middle finger.
Shaking my head, I turned to the guy sitting next to Jason. “Ah, so you’re Marlena’s husband. Man, do I feel bad for you. You have to be related to this dick,” I said, pointing at Jason, who smiled proudly, as if being called a dick was a compliment.
I’d gone to school with Marlena, but we’d lost touch after my graduation, and I hadn’t seen much of her since Jason had moved back to town eight months ago. She and Jason, being cousins who were only a year apart, used to be close, which meant I’d spent much of my high school career around her. The few times I’d been around Marlena recently, Nick hadn’t been with her.
Nick laughed, glancing at Jason for a second before swinging his attention to me. “He’s not all that bad. Although, I won’t lie . . . after everything my wife’s sister had to say about him, I wasn’t exactly welcoming when he first moved to town. But then I got to know him and realized he was a pretty good guy.”
The fact that tonight we were celebrating Jason’s la
st days of freedom before he married Tatum was a miracle. Her best friend—who also happened to be Marlena’s little sister—had brought more problems between them than they had on their own. I wasn’t privy to all the details, only the ones he’d shared with me over a beer from time to time, but I knew enough to conclude Tatum’s best friend had something against men in general.
“Speaking of Kelsey”—Jason snapped his fingers and leaned forward—“Tatum’s old room is still empty. I’m sure Kelsey’s the last person you’d want to live with, even for a few months until you get a house, but if worse comes to worse, I can always ask if she’d be okay with you staying there.”
“Are you suggesting I live with your man-hating cousin?”
He shrugged and leaned back, the complete opposite reaction I would’ve expected to come from him. “Why not? It beats you having to sign a lease on something and throw money away on rent—money you’ve been saving to buy something more permanent. And like you just pointed out, she hates all things attached to a penis, so I wouldn’t have to worry about you making a move on her. If you did . . . I might have to report you to someone. I doubt it would be safe to have you treat people with mental conditions if you have one, too.”
“Yeah . . . that definitely wouldn’t be safe.” I took a second to contemplate his idea. It wasn’t the best, but it would do in a pinch. “Okay, fine. I have to be out of the house the weekend after your wedding. If I don’t find anywhere to go by the end of the week, I’ll let you know. That way, if she says no, I’ll still have one more week to come up with something.”
“I’ll have Tatum ask. We’ll have a better chance of her saying yes to her.”
I jerked my chin in thanks just as the bus stopped in front of another house.
Jason wanted low key, so I decided to give him that. I just refused to tell him what the plan was, because it was far more entertaining to watch him try to figure it out. But at the end of the night, after driving around town for hours, he’d realize I’d given him exactly what he wanted—a night with the guys, hanging out in a party bus with two coolers full of beer.
The Secret Baby Page 4
