by Shey Stahl
For me.
Once again, I can’t shake the feelings inside of me as I leave the school. Why after all these years does he still evoke these reactions out of me, something Austin never did.
I loved Austin when we were together, I did, but not once did he give me the same scared butterfly, electricity running through my veins shudder that Ridge entices from me.
It’s so bad, I can’t rid myself of the feeling for close to ten minutes while I walk home.
On my way back from the school, I stop by my parents’ house. They live across the street from the race track in town. Calistoga Speedway is literally in the middle of town and surrounded by homes, a place I spent most of my childhood and adult life.
I walk around the back, through the yard, and into the kitchen “Hey, guys!” I yell as I let myself inside.
My mom, Helena, is standing in the kitchen near the stove, stirring something in a pot that smells delicious. Like marshmallows. On the counter next to her is a bowl full of cereal and then it dawns on me she’s making rice crispy treats. She always made rice crispy treats for my first day of school and the thought that she’s once again, carrying on the tradition for the boys, makes my heart melt.
Dad’s at the table reading the paper, his glasses pushed to the end of his nose as he attempts to see through the small reading frames he takes from mom.
Look at them. Aren’t they adorable? They’ve been happily married for the last thirty-five years and have one amazing daughter. Oh, and a son, but he’s not amazing. He’s a pain in the ass, but essentially a good guy and never in town so bonus for me.
Through those thirty-five years of marriage, they’ve loved and created a life most only dream of experiencing. They owned some land here in Calistoga and sold it off to a winery looking to expand. That provided them with a financial backing for the rest of their lives.
My dad, Glen, works at the racetrack here in town and has since I was born. That’s how I met Ridge. When his dad bought the track, a cocky three-year-old boy with too much attitude stormed into my life. He left about the same way he entered it.
I had always thought Ridge would eventually race cars given his dad owned the track, but he never showed much interest in it. Don’t get me wrong, back when I knew him, he loved cars but hated rules, and if you were going to race, rules were something you had to follow.
My older brother, Tyler, chose racing, and he’s damn good at it.
Good enough he’s never home anymore. He left town when he was seventeen to race USAC (a sanctioning body for sprint cars and midgets), made a name for himself, and then ended up getting a ride with his friend’s team with the World of Outlaws, a traveling race series that visits our town once a year. He’s clearly the sibling that’s made better life choices so far.
Dad looks up from his paper. “Morning, honey. How was the boys’ first morning?”
“Well.” I plop down at the table across from him. Mom smiles as she removes the pot from the stove and pours the creamy melted marshmallow over the Rice Crispies. They crackle and pop in the distance and smell so good. My stomach rumbles and I realize I haven’t eaten anything today. “I was already called to the school because of Cash.”
Dad chuckles and adjusts the paper. “No surprise. He’s like his Uncle Tyler.”
I roll my eyes. He’s certainly not like me. Grady is, but Cash, nothing like me. “Let’s hope he’s not like Tyler. Between Ridge and Tyler, I’m not sure who was kicked out of school more.”
Do you notice my face when I mentioned Ridge? It’s an honest slip-up and I know my dad and mom notice as well. Back when my life revolved around Ridge, they all knew how I felt about him and more importantly, know he’s bad.
I also wouldn’t put it past my dad that he knows Ridge is their teacher.
Our eyes meet over the paper.
Yep. He knows.
I groan and flop my head on my arms like I’ve been put in detention. “When did you talk to him?”
Dad gives me that smile and raises his brows. He’s trying to act like he’s concentrating. “This morning.”
“How long is he back for?”
Dad sets his paper down. “He’s got some things to do, so I imagine a while.”
I’m transparent, I know this, but I ask anyway. “Like the track?”
Ever since Michael died, the town, or I should say, Ridge’s mother, has been pushing for the property to be sold. She wants it. Michael and her had been divorced for years, so I knew there was no way he left it to her.
“Yeah, Mike left it all to him,” Dad notes. “And you know if Madalyn has it her way, she’d turn it into part of Campbell Vineyards.”
The idea of Calistoga Speedway being turned into a winery or a tasting room makes my stomach knot. It’s like watching everything around your hometown, pieces of history being bought up by chain restaurants and turned into an actual city, as opposed to a hometown like we have here. “That can’t happen, will it?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it, and I highly doubt Ridge is going to give anything to her. I talked to Tyler the other night, and he said he’d have Jameson’s lawyer get in touch with Ridge to talk about the legal rights, if any, Madalyn might have.”
Jameson Riley is the guy Tyler drives a car for. He’s a big shot NASCAR driver and comes into our tiny town once a year. It’s crazy the crowd he draws in.
I wouldn’t think she’d have any rights, but I’m no expert on property law or estates. Dad’s right. Ridge hates his mother for what she did, and I doubt he’s forgiven her.
“Tyler gets into town next weekend.”
I groan. “Great. Just in time for him to tell me how bad my life is. I bet he’s going to be super proud of his little sister.”
“He’ll probably have something to say to dickbag.” Dad chuckles and slaps Mom’s ass when she walks by him. So cute, yet so disturbing.
My parents don’t like Austin. They never have. The day of my wedding, my dad got drunk and refused to walk me down the aisle until I gave him one good reason as to why I wanted to marry him. That was the day I told him I was pregnant.
“Dad, don’t say dickbag.” I stand up and wrap my arms around Mom from behind and kiss her. “Last week Cash called someone a cocksucker, and I know where he got it from. Just because you’re in your sixties now doesn’t mean you can get away with teaching my boys cuss words.”
“I’m not teaching them anything. They hear it from you.”
Probably some truth to those words.
“Hey, Aly, the bakery in town is looking for someone to work the morning shift. If you’re looking for something to do while the boys are in school.”
Let’s pause for two minutes. Or five. My mom means well, but she and Tori are afraid I’m going to turn into the crazy cat lady since the divorce. They’re constantly trying to fill my days with either work or activities.
I didn’t go to college. I know, horrible. I couldn’t. I was raising kids, and Austin didn’t want them in daycare, so I stayed home with them. A couple times a week I helped out at Jacob Law, but once I found out about the cheating, I stopped showing up. Didn't even give my two-weeks’ notice.
I wanted to go to college and maybe get a degree, but once I got pregnant, it wasn’t in my future. Having helped my brother land sponsors for his race car when I was younger, I originally wanted to go into marketing.
Now that I’m alone—still thinking about becoming a cat lady—I think I need a job. Just something while the boys are in school, and it doesn’t even need to pay that much. This would be perfect. I wouldn't have to be at work until after I dropped the boys off, and I could still get off in time to get them after school.
I don’t have a lot of expenses. House? Paid for. It was my parents and they gave it to Austin and me as a wedding gift. Crazy right? I’ll forever be grateful for everything my parents have done and continue to do for me.
I have to work though. I can’t sit at home and do nothing with my stray cats. Or ca
n I?
All right, back to my she-means-well mother. “Oh yeah, I’ll stop by there tomorrow.”
Dad stands, kissing my cheek. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go check on the fence. Trouble said it looked like shit.”
Trouble? That means he saw him this morning. I want to grab his face and ask him if he said anything about me, but I know I won’t. I’m not that brave.
I don’t say a word, but the glance my dad gives me indicates that was meant to draw my attention toward the fact that Ridge is home.
Mom and I laugh, but the moment he’s out the door, she’s giving me the look. The one only daughters understand. It’s the one where she knows me, the struggles I’m facing. . . all of it. It doesn’t matter that her and my dad have quite possibly the perfect marriage. . . she gets this.
My mom. . . she understands why I keep questioning what I did wrong. What did I do that led to this?
I’m almost certain every woman out there goes into her wedding day thinking her marriage will last. Unless you’re a mail order bride. Then I think you’re praying for the dude to drop dead.
The ones who wanted to get married and spent their entire childhood dreaming about the day, they don’t say to themselves, damn, this is going to end in a lengthy legal and custody battle, and I’m going to eventually hate him so much just the mention of his name will send my stomach churning.
Mom’s hands frame my face, eyes searching. “Are you okay, honey?”
I shake my head, tears surfacing and my brand-new outlook going out the window. “No. Brie showed up at the school this morning, and I may or may not have committed a felony by taking a bat to her car.”
Mom’s eyes widen. “Did you really?”
I nod, slightly ashamed.
“It’s going to be all right.”
I roll my eyes. “How can you say that? Your life is perfect.”
She laughs. She’s looking at me like I’m crazy. “No, it’s not. There are days your father makes me so angry I can’t see straight. I even make him sleep on the couch sometimes.”
Mom might be lying about all that, but it still makes me laugh. I brush the tears away. “I have to go get the boys’ stuff ready for football practice tonight.”
“Bring them by for some treats afterward.” She points to the pan of Rice Crispy treats. “And your brother will be here next week with the guys. Cash and Grady wanted to know if they can spend the night.”
“Nope.” I take one of the treats. It’s still hot and burns my finger. Licking the marshmallow from my fingers, I say, “Ty and his friends are assholes.”
“Oh, they’re good guys. Most of them are married now and have kids. I think Jameson’s are around the boys’ age.”
“Ha. I don’t know. We’ll see. I really do have to go.” I kiss Mom goodbye and wave to my dad who’s standing in the fairground’s parking lot.
I don’t know why, maybe because he’s consuming every thought I have today, my mind details the night Ridge found out I’d gone to the movies with Austin back when we were in high school. I wasn’t dating him. We just went to a movie.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, wondering why he was sitting on our front porch, hood pulled up over his head.
Vacant and indifferent, Ridge’s eyes dragged slowly from the track across the street to me, but he didn’t answer me. “What were you doing with him?”
Frustration gnawed at me as I pushed my fingers through my hair. I was so tired of his games. He didn’t want me dating anyone, but he wouldn’t date me. “We just went to a movie, Ridge,” I muttered. “It wasn’t a date.”
“Break up with him,” he said, curt, his look as menacing as he personality.
I looked at him like he’d lost his mind. I thought he had. I frowned. “I’m not going out with him. I told you, it wasn’t a date.”
Ridge squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t give a shit,” he warned. “You don’t belong with him. I don’t want you anywhere around him.”
“Oh my God, you’re crazy. I’m not dating him.” I stood my ground.
“Why him?” He opened his eyes and turned to face me. His voice was fire on my skin, leaving scorched skin in its wake. “Why’d you go to the movies with him and not me?”
“Because you never asked.” I gulped, knowing where this would lead. I wanted him to make it stop too, yet I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Maybe him leading me on, controlling me, dictating our relationship was what I wanted.
Suddenly, he stood, took my hand and led me across the street to the fairgrounds where the track was. “I don’t want to date you. I want to fuck you.”
I couldn’t breathe. I was fifteen years old. I didn’t understand his words or the meaning behind them. In some strange way, I wanted that too. I wanted to have sex with Ridge. I imagined it all the time. I did, but my nerves and the need to have something more stopped me.
And I was horrified that he affected me this way.
I hadn’t noticed how, or when, but we were flush with each other, behind the concession stands at the track, and I was intoxicated by his scent and high on his face.
“What do you want, Aly?” he asked, his pupils so wide his eyes were almost completely black in the darkness of the night. A streetlamp nearby lit the side of his face, making him look almost sinister.
“I’m not going to have sex with you,” I told him, knowing I was nowhere near ready for that.
“Then kiss me,” he whispered into my face, his breath tickling my cheek.
“But I—”
He shut me up by slamming his lips on mine. They were warm and sweet and completely right. His kiss was erotic, deep, desperate, and not something you’d experience from a fifteen-year-old boy.
My heart hammers in my chest, my face flushing as I walk up the street with shaking steps. Goddamn him. For years Ridge led me on, evoked reactions he didn’t deserve, made me think all he wanted was sex and then disappeared from my life, and now that he’s back, he’s probably about to do the same thing to me. Guys like Ridge Lucas don’t change, and he’s the last person I need to get wrapped up in.
What happened to the days when parents picked their kids up from the classrooms?
I wonder if I sweet talk Aunt K enough, she’ll let me bend the rules and require Aly to pick the boys up every afternoon just so I can see her. Probably not. But then again, I’ll get to see her again, kinda like now when she can’t see that I’m staring at her from my classroom, three hours after she walked out again.
Creepy?
Probably. I know it’s wrong to have impure thoughts in an elementary school, especially about a student’s mother, or at least it feels wrong, but I can’t bring myself to give a fuck.
I can’t stop thinking. Probably because I have a direct view of her and the boys, hand in hand, walking toward the parking lot after school, walking away from me. In my head, I’m right back to the night I left her.
“Midnight in Her Eyes” by the Black Keys hummed through the car, Aly laid out before me on the front seat of my mom’s car, lights off on a side-street.
“What is this?” She sounded her age. Innocent. Scared. Naïve.
“I only want to fuck you.”
She flinched and I hated myself for what I said. “You don’t want to be with me?”
My heart pounds. “No. I don’t,” I said as coldly as I could, hating the way the words sounded.
It wasn’t true, but it was my way of trying to push her away. The truth was she deserved better than me.
“Why would you say that?” she asked, tearfully.
“Because I want you, but I can’t give you what you’re looking for.”
I wanted to fuck her, but not for the reasons she assumed. I wanted to show her she needed me, not him. I wanted her to make me forget the world, the lies, the reasons, everything but the feel of her beneath me. I was being selfish, and it wasn’t fair to her.
Her skin was warm, burning my hands with each pass my fingertips made. She released her grip o
n my face, her neck arched away, pressing into the seat.
Rain soaked and trembling, I glided my hands along the inside of her arms, lower, down to her bare legs.
Leaned back on my knees, I kissed the inside of her knees, then the length of her leg until I was at her center. We both shifted, breathing harder, because I was there, a place she never allowed. I pushed her dress up, my fingers at the edge of her panties, waiting to see what she’d do if I took them off.
“Let me,” I whispered incoherently, sliding my fingers down her ribs, soft and gentle, teasing. She squirmed. I chuckled. “Please?”
Her legs were open, me hovering over her, waiting for her response. “Ridge,” she whispered in the darkness, searching for words and an answer she didn’t want to give me. “I can’t.”
I placed my fingertips over her lips. “Why not?” I slid up her body, between her legs, pushing against her hard with my lips finally on hers, a place they hadn’t been in years.
Never had I felt this ache, so intense when I moved, pushing her deeper into the leather seat. There was a heat between us, stronger than the night’s air, one I hadn’t realized—hadn’t comprehended—until she moved again, raising her hips to meet mine this time.
All I could focus on was getting her closer and making her move again. I deepened the kiss, and she squirmed beneath me.
My mouth parted from hers, asking a question I shouldn’t have been. “Have you fucked Austin?”
A good part of her was apprehensive to answer the question. I could see it in her eyes because she feared how I’d respond. What would I ask after I found out she was a virgin? She was always easy to read, the questions displayed on her face.
“No,” she answered eventually. Shock formed on her lips, and eventually a frown. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
Part of me was relieved she hadn’t. I wanted to be her first. Austin didn’t deserve her. I wanted her and her virginity to be mine. My head dipped to her neck, slow kissing and loving her, even if I’d never be able to tell her.
