The Truth About Us (Mills Lake series)

by Tj Hannah

  “I’m not into that corporate douchebaggery. I want to do something that fucking matters.” Garett seems pretty satisfied with himself but Sophia smiles like she’s already won the argument.

  “My dad’s a partner at Loritz, Fendrich, & Ross in New York. Falixico Oil is one of his major clients. I’ll be sure to give him your info when you need money for tuition. You can lick stamps for him or something.” Sophia smirks and Garett looks like he’s been kicked in the balls. I sort of feel like I’ve been kicked, also. A New York lawyer for a father. I never thought she was small town like me, but New York?

  “Fuck yeah, Soph. That’ll shut him up for a bit.” Jackson gives her a high-five.

  “You’re not serious.” Garett stutters.

  “I am. Well, about the first part. I don’t think they hire stamp lickers anymore. The position was dissolved when they started making self-adhesive stamps.”

  I can’t help but laugh at this one, throwing my arm around her shoulders. “That’s my girl.”

  It just comes out, and all three of them look at me. My girl. What the fuck am I thinking?

  But it’s true.

  Or at least I want it to be, even though I shouldn’t. My feelings are all very confusing as they twist over each other inside me.

  “What time is it?” Sophia asks, and I’m glad the silence has been filled.

  “Two.” Jackson replies and Sophia jumps.

  “Shit, I’m supposed to be out there. Kayla said–” She starts, but Tobie cuts her off, joining the conversation.

  “Kayla can eat a dick. You’ll be there when you get there.” There’s a thick irritation in her voice, and I love her for it. Tobie is good for Sophia. Tobie is good for everyone, really. She’s one of my favorite people. “I’ll take you. Tosh needs to be out there to set up and do sound anyway.”

  Sophia follows, but I grab her hand and pull her back to me, sliding my fingers into the soft curls of her hair. Her face is so close that I notice light freckles dotted along her nose that I’ve never seen before.

  “While you’re hard at work, remember what I told you,” I say, kissing her softly. I burrow into her hair so I can whisper. “Those legs. My neck. I can’t fucking wait to taste you.”

  I let her go and she stumbles back, Tobie pulling her away from me. Her eyes search me, but her cheeks are flush.

  I have to tell her. Soon.

  Keeping secrets from her is kind of killing my sex drive.

  xxx

  An hour later everyone is finally leaving my place to head to the lake. The city staff will be in full swing with the tamer part of the day which I usually avoid, but with Parker sitting on my shoulders, it might be fun to try out this bean bag game.

  “You tell her?” Gaby asks, raising her arms to lift Parker from his spot.

  “I told you. I’ll tell her tomorrow.” I’m instantly irritated. More because I know she’s right.

  “I like her. She’s sweet. She’s been through a lot, Corbin. Don’t add to it by lying to her.”

  My stomach feels like it’s being wrung out and I shoot a hard stare at my sister.

  “I’m not lying to her.” The words are acidic as they come out, burning my tongue.

  “Not saying anything is just as bad as lying.” Gaby’s eyebrows raise, but she has no idea how hard those words hit me.

  “Gabriella?” I see my father step out his door, and my focus shifts entirely. Gaby’s shoulders tense. Parker spins around to look at Dad. I hate the way he looks at Gaby. Or the way he looks past her. His shirt is stained, and he’s wearing nothing but boxers on the lower half. His face is past reasonable scruff and makes him look a little frightening, especially with those distant eyes. He takes one stumbling step onto the driveway.

  “Grandpa!” Parker runs to him, but Dad holds out a hand. Parker reaches out to my dad who gruffly shoves him aside. Parker falters and falls back on the pavement, but he doesn't cry. This isn’t the first time Dad has done this to him, which is why I hate them being in the same room and limit their interaction. I'm between them in two steps and Parker scrambles behind me.

  “Parker, come here, honey.” Gaby stretches out her hand. “Dad, what the hell is wrong with you?” Gaby's voice is tight, like she doesn't know what to do. She couldn't stand up to my dad physically. For how angry I am at Mom for leaving, I’m thankful it was me she left behind and not Gaby.

  “Mommy, is Grandpa sick again?” I hear Parker, and my stomach flips. What else do you tell a kid when you don’t want him around the man he calls Grandpa?

  Dad doesn’t answer her but turns his slitted eyes to me. He sways from side to side signalling he's already really drunk. “Corbin. I need to talk to you.”

  “I’m late, Dad. Later.” I'm really afraid that if I'm alone with him, I'll knock him out for pushing Parker, but I won't hit my dad in front of my nephew.

  “I said, I need to talk to you. Are you fuckin’ deaf?” Dad’s voice wobbles. I glance at Gaby and Parker. Gaby has tears in her eyes like she does every time she sees him like this. I wish I could tell her to forget him. I wish I could make her feel okay about his involvement in her life.

  But I can’t. She insists that Parker should know his family, and I haven’t been able to convince her it’s pointless without telling her the truth about Mom. Dad’s already done the damage to Gaby. I won't let him do it to Parker.

  “Take Parker and wait in the truck,” I say to my sister, turning to follow Dad inside.

  Within feet of him, I can smell it, but I’m used to it, so it doesn’t bother me at all.

  “What do you want?” I lean against the door, refusing to go all the way inside.

  “I got a call from your mother about that girl at the bar.” He lifts a beer to his lips and his eyes burn into me. My fists tighten at my sides. “You need to stop fucking my waitresses.”

  “Excuse me?” I breathe out. I was not expecting that. Dad stumbles toward me and presses his finger to my forehead.

  "You are deaf."

  I smack his hand away. "I fucking heard you. Since when do you care? I haven't seen you step foot into that place in weeks."

  "Since your mother started calling me saying this chick is some sort of runaway rich girl. You know she's just pissing off daddy, right? She's a spoiled bitch who's just going to use you for a thrill and tell her prep school teenagers about the small town loser she dated."

  “You're such a fucking asshole.” I twist the doorknob, needing to get out.

  “I’m not done,” he growls, and I slam the door as hard as I can. The windows rattle in his tiny apartment.

  "She's a woman, Corbin. She'll bleed you dry because you're weak. You know it's true. Your mother. Your sister. This girl." I very rarely let myself get angry. Anger on my part leads to fists on his part. “You let them control you even once, and you’re done. They’ll walk all over you.”

  “This girl has a name.” I raise my voice. “You've never once had any interest in my life. Why the fuck do you care what happens to me now?"

  "I'm protecting you." The words slam into me so hard I actually stagger.

  "You're protecting me? You seriously believe that? Protecting me from what? Heartbreak? Well I have a question for you, old man. Who the fuck’s protecting me from you?”

  I don’t wait for him to react and rely on the alcohol delay to give me enough time to get out. Flinging open the door I storm to the truck and punch the door, letting out a frustrated growl. I bend at the waist and run my hands over my face and hair. The whirling thoughts in my head get louder until I can’t decipher one from another. I fill to the absolute brim with pure shame.

  I’m protecting you.

  I straighten up again and look to the sky trying to keep the emotion inside. It burns and I blink it back, taking a deep lungful of air. I need to calm down. I get in the truck, sliding behind the steering wheel.

  Gaby sits on the passenger side, her arms wrapped protectively around Parker. Her eyes swim with tears, but like m
e she doesn’t often let them out. Parker reaches out and takes my hand. Any power I had over myself crumbles in his tiny hands.

  “Uncle, don’t be sad. I’m sure Grandpa didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” He smiles at me with this hopeful smile that torches my insides. Gaby looks out the window, and I’m glad because I can tell she’s crying now. I’m pissed that she didn’t warn me she was coming early. I usually avoid these run-ins with careful crafting of her visits. Making sure Dad isn’t sloppy around Parker. Making sure my nephew never sees the truth. I was hopeful too, when I was younger, before my family deteriorated before my eyes. I only want to make sure Parker can keep that for as long as possible.

  I pull Parker into my lap and hug him as tight as I can, resting my forehead on his shoulder. He pats my head, still completely oblivious which makes me feel only slightly better that he has to see this shit.

  After a few minutes, I manage to compose myself enough to make it seem like I have it together. Parker tells me stories, and while I’m only half listening, I’m thankful for the noise. It makes the trip to the lake bearable.

  We pull into the parking lot, and the first thing I see is a gold dress. Like a bright shining beacon of truth, that gold dress tells me exactly what I have to do. I don't care her reasons for being involved with me. I don't care why she's here and what she wants from me. Nothing in my life has felt truer than her. I can't lie to her.

  I throw the truck into park and fling open the door. I can't remember if I even turned off the engine. I don’t know what’s driving me forward exactly. My anger, my hatred, my desire, my longing to be rid of everything that holds me back. I don’t know, but I ignore Gaby when she calls me, I walk past Kayla without even looking at her, I don’t nod to Riley when he does to me. I push past all of it. To her.

  Sophia catches my eye and smiles before her head cocks to the side. Her eyebrows pull together and my heart thunders for her. She knows. She senses it. She gets it.

  “Corbin?” The inflection in her voice saturated with concern. She steps toward me and I grab her hand, never slowing my pace. She follows without question. “Corbin, what’s wrong?”

  I don’t look at her. I can’t. Not out here. I can’t look at her without boiling over. I’m like a time bomb, and I need her with me when it goes off.

  I pull her up the steps of the staff cabin and push open the door.

  “Please, Corbin. What’s–” The sound of the slamming door cuts her off.

  “My mother is Officer Charbenet.” It’s flat, and the words are stunted with my fear but if I don't shove them out I know they'll just get stuck in my throat. Her face goes pale, and she shakes her head. But her eyes flash so fast with thoughts, I’m dizzy from the silence.

  “No. Your last name is Kasey.” I see her chest rise with her level of panic.

  “Mine is. My mother is Collette Charbenet.”

  “How long–” The words die out, but I don’t need her to finish them.

  “Yesterday. She called. Your mom called her. I’m sorry, Sophia. I should have–” This time she cuts me off, raising her hand between us.

  “Corbin, I can’t.” She doesn’t want to talk about it.

  Tension fills the room, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s thick, but not suffocating. It’s palpable and bittersweet. It’s us. Tragic or not, I can’t stand not touching her. I can’t stand the space between us. I take a quick step toward her. Her eyes widen when I grab her waist and push her up against cracking wood of the cabin door. Her hands go around my neck when I cover her mouth with mine, forcing my way inside. The kiss is raw, and she matches my every move, seeming to understand what I want. What I need.

  Her.

  All of her.

  Still clutching her waist I lift her off the ground, and her legs wrap around me, her back braced on the door. The kiss is deepened until she snaps her head back gasping for air, but I don’t stop. I kiss her jaw, bite her shoulder, squeeze her thighs. The dress is scratchy and suddenly in my way. I need it off. Pushing it up over her hips, she knows what I’m doing and drops her feet to the floor. I pull the material over her head, seeing she’s not wearing a bra, and my need for her intensifies.

  “Fuck are you beautiful,” I mutter as she slides her hands under the shoulders of my suit jacket, and the coat falls to the floor.

  “What are we doing?” she asks, working the buttons of my collared shirt while I kiss her neck.

  “I need you.” The phrase slips out and she leans back, her eyes burning into mine. I run my hands down from her bare shoulders to her fingertips still gripping my shirt. My whole body shakes as I press her hands flat against my chest. “I need to love you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sophia

  My fingers graze his lips as if I’m trying to grab hold of the words. I want to hold them in my hand just to make sure they’re real. He grabs my hand again and kisses my palm before placing my arm around his neck.

  “Corbin,” I start, but he kisses me again.

  Corbin, I need you to love me. Is what I want to say but all I feel is his hands on me, lifting up again, holding under my thighs as he moves me to the couch. He sits, lowering me onto his lap.

  He watches me with a mix of emotion on his face that’s so deeply tangled inside him that I can’t bring myself to tell him how I feel. It will just add to the confusion.

  “It’s okay. I’m not angry with you,” I finally say and he snaps into focus, his hand running over my face. He nods and takes a deep breath before he speaks.

  “No one’s ever gotten to me like you do. You’re part of me now. I don’t know if I love you...” He smiles, rolls his eyes and drops his chin to his chest. “I'm an idiot. That didn’t come out right. I’ve never fucking done this before. What I mean is, when I had to decide what to tell you, I knew. I couldn’t lose you. I almost didn’t tell you because I don’t want to hurt you. But I can’t lie to you either, Sophia."

  I lean in to kiss his neck, and his fingers dig into my hips.

  "There has to be a better time. A better time for this.” He groans, and I continue to kiss my way up the side of his neck.

  "This is the perfect time." A bravery comes over me that tells me not to back down. I’m finally going to have him in the way I’ve craved him since the first moment I saw him. I’m finally feeling loveable. It has to be now. We have to be now.

  I kiss his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his lips. I finish taking off his shirt and run my hands over every part of him I can reach. The burn rips through me as he runs his hands up my thighs, finding the edge of my panties, the only piece of clothing I have left.

  “I need to love you, too," I continue. "Someday maybe we’ll get there. Maybe we already are. I don’t know. Whatever it is, it feels good."

  “It feels too good. It feels like you’re always just about to slip away. Like if I’m not touching you, you’ll disappear.” He runs his hands up my back.

  “Then keep touching me.” I push my hands into his hair, and he looks at me. Really looks at me with an intensity that would make me turn away if I wasn't so charged. His fingers trail up my spine, across my shoulders, down my arms. He cups my face and I close my eyes. He strokes my cheek, outlines my lips, skims my jaw and down my throat, forcing my head to tilt back. He presses his hand over my chest feeling my breathing. He moves me so that I’m lying down, but his hands never stop. He slowly works me right to the edge of myself, then pushes me over. He takes me literally, touching and kissing every bit of me. He teases and tastes me until I can’t breathe. Then again until I can’t stop shaking with the complete emotional takeover of his touch. Over and over he pushes me into ecstasy until I can’t take it anymore and I need all of him. I yank on his shoulders bringing him up. I frantically rip at his pants as he braces himself above me, kicking them off. When he’s as naked as me, I cling to him. Needing him. Telling him over and over to put me out of my misery. To give me what I want.

  Him.

  We move together in
a tangle of bodies, weaving in and out of each other, hands everywhere. Clothes all over the floor. Condom wrapper in his teeth. My hands raking down his chest.

  Good sex is one thing. But this sex is something I’ve never believed existed. Once he's inside it takes every part of me pressed against him to be satisfied. It takes all my thoughts not centered on him and shoves them aside. It dissolves the room around us, the chance of someone walking in, the fear of what will happen after tonight. It flows through me, ripples across my skin, absorbs into everything I am. His breathing in my ear feels like my own. His movements are easily matched by mine. It feels like hours, but at the same time, not long enough to give me all of what I need.

  “Sophia, I can’t hold it in.” He breathes, so I cling to him tighter, matching his thrusts and pulling his earlobe into my mouth.

  “Then don’t,” I whisper. Moments later he collapses on my chest and his shoulders hunch. He makes a noise that he tries to hold in by biting down on my shoulder. He crushes me to him, moving so slow until he’s nothing but weight on top of me.

  “Holy fuck,” his words escape through heavy breath.

  It takes a long time for both of us to slow down. We lay silent until my heart is back to normal. He kisses my neck and shoulder every once in a while.

  “I told you,” I feel him smile against my skin after a long stretch of no movement.

  “Told me what?” I still sound out of breath.

  “Tragic sex is phenomenal sex.”

  xxx

  After we're dressed, I'm still buzzing as I straighten Corbin’s tie in the tiny bathroom of the cabin. I'm trying not to smile while he watches me with this grin I’ve never seen before.

  “What?” I smack his chest. He puts his hands in my hair and shakes out the curls.

  “You look like you just got fucked.” He laughs when I smack him again.

  “That didn’t take long.”

  “What didn’t?”

  “For you to turn back into a typical guy.”

  “When it comes to you, I’ve never been a typical guy.” He shifts one more strand of hair, and we look in the mirror. I should be making sure I don’t look like I just got fucked, but instead I look at him and wonder where he finds these lines. How he can shift my mood with only a few words. When to joke, when to be serious, when to support, when to be dirty. How does he know what needs to be said? Or doesn’t?