Secrets Kept

by Allie Everhart

  "You fuckin' bet me to do it," Lucas says. "You know I won't turn down a bet." Lucas looks at me. "And then the asshole got me drunk."

  Gavin shakes his head. "I didn't pour the shit down your throat. You did that all on your own."

  "And it wasn't just a boat," Lucas says to me. "It was a yacht, owned by some Wall Street prick. The bastard tried to sue me."

  "But my dad took care of it," Gavin says. "It helped that Lucas was a minor."

  "You didn't get in trouble?" I ask.

  "They didn't have anything to charge me with. Lucas was at the wheel and he was drunk. I wasn't. I'd been drinking earlier that night but I stopped when we got on the water. The boat was making me sick." He hits Lucas' shoulder. "Fucker doesn't know how to drive."

  "Yeah, I skipped out on my yacht driving classes." He rolls his eyes, then gulps down his drink. "I'll take another." He holds his glass up to Gavin, who doesn't take it. "C'mon. You got me arrested. You owe me."

  "I've more than paid you back, but fine." He returns to the bar.

  "So how'd your moms get to be friends?" I ask Lucas. I'm doing the twenty questions thing again. I should really stop doing that. I'm starting to sound like Megan. But I'm curious.

  "They both went to the same boarding school in Paris." He's back to typing on his phone.

  "Sounds nice. Going to school in Paris?"

  "They hated it. My mom's from Brazil. She missed home. But her parents forced her to go." He reads a text, then texts whoever it was back. "A lot of rich people send their kids to boarding school. Mine didn't, but that's because my mom hated it so much. She was never going to do that to her own kids."

  "You have brothers and sisters?"

  "One brother. Two sisters." He looks up from his phone. "You ask a lot of questions."

  "Sorry." I look away.

  "It's all right. I don't really care." He glances back at the bar. "So what's going on with you and Gavin?"

  "I just met him. I was catering an event at his house the other night and we started talking. Then we went out last night."

  "He tell you about Leighton?"

  "Yeah. Sounds like a bad breakup."

  "She was a total bitch, dropping him like that. He hasn't dated anyone since."

  "Really?" I ask, surprised.

  "He's had a few one-nighters, but as for a girlfriend? He's not ready for that."

  Then what is he doing with me? Am I another one-nighter? Is he just holding out for sex and then he'll dump me?

  Chapter Seven

  "There. We're even," Gavin says, setting down Lucas' drink. He gives me one too. "Got you another. If you don't want it, that's fine. I just didn't want to have to go up there again."

  "My dad's having a party next weekend," Lucas says. "You should come down for it. Or we could drive together. It's at the club. Top floor."

  "I don't know. I have to think about it." Gavin puts his arm around me. "You're quiet. You all right?"

  I nod, but I'm not all right. I'm still thinking about the one-nighter comment Lucas made.

  "Hey, Luc, we're going outside for a minute."

  He nods, his eyes back on his phone.

  "C'mon." Gavin takes my arm and helps me off the barstool.

  "Why are we going outside?" I ask as he pulls me through the crowd.

  "Because you're mad about something and I can't hear in this place."

  "I'm not mad," I insist.

  "Says a girl when she's mad." He leads me through the crowd and out the side door, which leads to a concrete slab with a picnic table, probably where the staff takes their breaks. "So what happened? What'd Lucas say?"

  "Nothing. We were just talking."

  "He said something to make you mad."

  "I told you, I'm not mad."

  "Kate, what is it?" When I don't answer he says, "Listen, I spent two years with a girl who wouldn't talk to me when something was wrong. That's part of the reason we didn't last. I don't want that happening again. So if something's bothering you, just tell me."

  I pause, then say, "How many girls have you been with since Leighton?"

  "What?" His brows furrow. "Why would you ask me that?"

  "Because I don't want to just be a hookup to help you get over your ex."

  "What the hell?" He backs away. "If you think I'm that type of guy, then why'd you even agree to go out with me?"

  "I didn't think you were that type of guy until Lucas said you'd had all these one-nighters since breaking up with Leighton."

  "One. It was ONE girl. One night. And it was right after Leighton dumped me. I was drunk, a girl came onto me at a bar, and we went back to her place. Big deal. Like no one's ever done that before?"

  "I didn't say that but—"

  "Lucas doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about. You shouldn't listen to him. He's not even that good a friend. As kids we only saw each other when our parents got together. Now that we're going to the same school, he wants to hang out all the time. Honestly I think it's only because my dad's running for the Senate. He thinks I'll get perks as a senator's son that will somehow benefit him."

  "So he's using you."

  "Maybe. I don't really know. It's not like he'd actually admit to it. That's the problem with having money and power. You never know if your friends are really your friends. The point is, he was wrong about what he said. I don't know why he said it but I also don't know why you were so quick to believe him. I know you don't know me that well yet but I'd at least like to be given a chance to defend myself before being accused of things I didn't do."

  "You're right. I'm sorry."

  He reaches for me, tugging me forward until I'm right in front of him. His eyes go to mine. "Just so you know, you're the first girl I've been interested in since things ended with Leighton."

  "Why me?"

  "Why not you?"

  "I'm just trying to understand. We didn't exactly meet under the best circumstances. Unless you're attracted to girls you find crying on your patio."

  "That's exactly my type. It's why I carry napkins everywhere I go."

  I smile. "You don't really do that."

  He reaches in his pocket and takes one out. A cocktail napkin from the bar.

  "Why do you carry those?"

  "In case a girl's crying and needs it."

  "You're just making that up."

  "It's true." He shoves it back in his pocket. "My grandpa told me to always carry a handkerchief for a lady in need. I think handkerchiefs are kind of gross so I went with the napkin. And they're stronger than a tissue so can also clean up spills. Multipurpose."

  I laugh. "I can't believe you do that. But I bet I'm probably the first girl who's ever had to use one of those."

  "I use them all the time."

  "You encounter crying girls all the time?"

  "Not just girls. Older women. Little kids. If you pay attention, there's always someone around who needs one."

  "So you just go up and offer them a napkin?" I ask.

  "I talk to them first. Ask them what's wrong. Ask if I can help."

  "You seriously do that?"

  "I did it for you, didn't I?"

  "Well, yeah, but—"

  "Did it seem like that was the first time I've done that?"

  "No."

  In fact, he was totally relaxed when he approached me. Like he knew what he was doing. Like he'd done it before.

  "That's really rare," I say. "Helping people like that? It almost never happens."

  "It does. My dad even started a movement for it but it didn't catch on."

  "What movement?"

  "You were probably too young to remember, but when he was governor, he started this program called If you see something, do something. It was originally referring to crime, meaning if you see a crime, call the cops. Get help. Whatever. But he expanded it to encourage people to help each other out. You see someone in need, do something. Don't just walk by and ignore them."

  "But the program didn't last?"

 
"It ran out of funding so it ended."

  I guess his dad isn't as creepy as I thought he was. He sounds like a nice guy. Maybe he was just angry that night of the party.

  The side door opens and a girl comes out, a cigarette in her hand. She walks toward the back of the building as she lights up.

  "We should probably get back in there," I say.

  "So we're good?"

  "Yeah. Sorry, I shouldn't have made assumptions like that without talking to you."

  "Let's just agree to talk about this stuff when it happens. Before it gets out of hand."

  "Agreed."

  Wow. I think I'm finally in an adult relationship. Gavin's actually willing to talk about things? I've never had that type of open communication with a guy. If I even brought up the topic of our relationship, the guy I was dating would shut down. Or turn the TV on. Or break up with me.

  "I think this is the part where we kiss and make up," Gavin says.

  "We weren't even fighting," I say.

  "Doesn't mean we can't make up." He leaves kisses along the v-shaped neckline of my shirt, sending a shiver through me.

  "You like that?"

  "A lot. Maybe we could go somewhere more private and continue this."

  "What about your friend?"

  "Megan. That's right. I can't leave her." I step back. "We should go."

  He takes my hand and turns to go inside but I yank him back and kiss him. I couldn't help it. It was an instinct. A primal urge.

  He kisses me back, hard and fast, our tongues tangling. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around him as he backs me against the building. He pins me to the wall, his large hands gripping my thighs as he kisses me. I'm so turned on. I want him so bad.

  "You sure we can't leave your roommate?" he asks, breathing hard.

  "I would but..." I grip his hair as his mouth lowers to my neck, lightly kissing it as his hand moves up to cup my breast, teasing my nipple through the fabric of my shirt. "Gavin."

  "You want me to stop?"

  "No, but we shouldn't do this out here."

  He slowly lowers me to the ground.

  "Go out with me tomorrow," he says.

  "I have to work."

  "What time you get off?" He leans his forehead against mine as we catch our breath.

  "Seven."

  "Then I'll be there when you get home."

  "Okay." I smile.

  He pauses a moment. "Shit."

  "What?"

  "I have class at seven. I forgot. It's my only night class."

  "Then we'll meet up later this week."

  "That's too far away." He kisses me.

  I feel the same way, which is not like me at all. I normally like to give a new relationship some time. Start out slow. Maybe see a guy once or twice a week but no more than that until I figure out if I really like him. But I already know I like Gavin, and I want to see him more than once a week.

  Forcing myself to stop kissing him, I break from his lips and back away. "We should go inside."

  "Do you really want to go inside or are you saying that because you're uncomfortable about what I said?"

  "About what?"

  "About wanting to see you this week. Before you answer, I should tell you that I normally don't do this. I usually wait a few days after a first date before asking the girl out again."

  "I'm the same way."

  "So you want to wait? Like until this weekend?"

  "This weekend?" I sound shocked. "That's way too long. I was thinking Thursday."

  He laughs. "Then Thursday it is. You don't have to work, do you?"

  I sigh. "I do. I have a party that night. At the Kensington mansion."

  "Which one?"

  I stop to think. "That's right. I forgot there's more than one. I'd have to check. I think it's the one closest to here."

  "Pearce Kensington's house?"

  "Yeah, that's it. He's having a cocktail party."

  "If it's just cocktails, maybe you'll be done early."

  "We might be done by eight."

  "I could drop you off. That way I could pick you up and we could go do something."

  "Sounds good." I take his hand and drag him to the door. "We're going inside now. For real this time."

  Back in the bar, I spot Megan still sitting next to Decker. But now, she's turned completely toward him and is totally into whatever he's talking about, listening intently, a big smile on her face. Even if she's not attracted to him, I think those two will definitely be friends.

  "Let's go over there," Gavin says, nodding toward Megan.

  "No, let's wait. Give them more time to talk." My eyes go to Decker, who's moving his hands around as he talks. He seems more relaxed now. "Do you know anything about that guy?"

  "Decker? Not really. I know he's an English major and I know his dad's a lawyer. That's about it."

  "Does your dad know him?"

  "No. My dad practices corporate law. Decker's dad does personal injury."

  "Does he always wear a bow tie?"

  He chuckles. "I'm not sure, but so far, every time I've seen him, he has it on. I think it's his thing. You think that'll turn off your friend?"

  "Probably not. She likes quirky guys so maybe she'll think he's quirky with the bow tie."

  He turns to me. "And what's your type?"

  "Type of what?"

  "What's your type of guy? What do you usually go for? Bad boys? Intellectuals? Musicians?"

  "Unfortunately, I tend to go for looks over personality, which hasn't worked out so well in the past. Which is why it's good it was different with you."

  "Excuse me?" He pretends to be offended but he's smiling.

  "I didn't mean you're not hot. I was definitely attracted to you, but that's not why I went out with you. That night we met, I wasn't even thinking about dating someone new. I was too upset about Kurt. But I agreed to have dinner with you because you seemed like a nice person. I liked that you were kind and compassionate and listened to me when I told you about my ex. Not many guys would do that." I tilt my head in a questioning way. "So you never told me why you asked me out that night."

  "Hmm." He ponders it.

  "You really have to think that hard?" I tease.

  We're next to an open table and Gavin grabs one of the barstools and sits on it, then pulls me between his legs. "I thought you were hot."

  "That's it?"

  He smiles. "No, but that was part of it. I saw you serving during the party. I had just gotten home and was heading up to my room but then I spotted you and stopped. I couldn't take my eyes off you. You're so beautiful and you have a great smile. And then you laughed at something one of the waitresses said and...I don't know, you just seemed like someone who loves life. So many people I know have everything they could ever want and they're still miserable. Leighton was that way. She was never happy. No matter what I did for her it was never enough. So to see you having to spend your evening serving shrimp to people who acted like you weren't even there, and to still have a smile on your face, a genuine smile...I figured that's someone I want to meet. But then I went to find you later and you weren't around. I thought maybe you'd gone home."

  "So when you found me outside, you knew it was me?"

  "No. You had your head down when I approached you. But then you looked up and I was like, shit, this is my lucky day. Either that or fate had intervened and I was meant to find you out there."

  "You believe in fate?"

  "Not really. But sometimes when things happen like that, it makes you wonder, especially since it turned out that we live in the same town."

  "I almost didn't go to work that night. I was going to call in sick because I didn't feel like working after finding out about Kurt. I'd slept all day and just wanted to stay in bed. But then I decided to go, thinking work would help take my mind off him. And it did, until that moment you found me by the pool."

  "So it sounds like fate may have intervened after all." He kisses me and I step closer, feeling the heat from
his body as I stand between his legs. I grip his thighs and reach up to kiss him back.

  "You need to stop doing this to me in public," he says quietly in my ear.

  "Kissing you?"

  "No. This." He pulls me closer and I feel the bulge in his jeans.

  I smile. "That's not my fault."

  "It sure as hell is."

  "Here. I'll cover it up." I turn away from him and purposely rub my ass against his crotch.

  He leans down to my ear and groans. "Not helpful."

  I laugh and do it again.

  He breathes into my ear, then his lips graze over it, sending a tingle through me.

  "Stop," I whisper, my head tilting back on his chest.

  "Payback," he whispers in my ear, then his lips slide down my neck as his hand brushes over the side of my breast, his light, gentle touch causing goosebumps to rise up along my arms and neck.

  "Bishop!" A blond guy waves at Gavin from across the bar.

  "Looks like my friends have arrived." He backs away, leaving me longing for his touch.

  Damn. Why couldn't his friends be a few more minutes late?

  The blond guy approaches us. He's not overly tall but he's big, with wide shoulders like a football player. Actually, I think he is a football player. I've seen his face on the local sports news.

  "Hey." He smiles at Gavin.

  "Chris, this is my girl—" Gavin stops before he says girlfriend. Does he already think of me that way? "This is Kate," he says. "Kate this is Chris. He lives on my floor. Plays football for Moorhurst."

  I shake his hand, which is huge. "Nice to meet you."

  "You too." He looks back at Gavin. "The other guys are over at the bar getting drinks. You need one?"

  "No. I'm driving tonight."

  "Why'd you drive? You could just walk back."

  "Kate needs a ride home."

  "You don't live on campus?" he asks.

  Now I see why the townies don't come here. Everyone acts like you shouldn't be here if you don't go to Moorhurst.

  "I'm not a student," I say.

  "A townie, huh?" He laughs to himself.

  "Why is that funny?"

  "He's just joking around," Gavin says quietly to me. "Just ignore him."

  "Bishop!" Several guys yell all at once as they walk up to our table with beer bottles in their hands.