by BT Urruela
“It’s Chase to you, young lady. And for as long as I can remember.” He winks before ordering a beer from the waitress. I grab another Coors… and a shot. Anything to quell my own nervousness.
Chase leans back in. “Anyways, yeah, Iowa… Des Moines, to be more specific. My dad lives up there. My grandma too… and my ex.”
“Ex, huh?” Brandi asks, and I shoot her a disapproving look.
“Yeah, long, dirty story. One not worth telling. Just know she is an ex.” He smiles at Brandi before his attention is drawn by a commotion on the stage. I look, hoping to see Xander, but it’s just Bryson Whittaker messing with the mic.
“When’s my boy go on by the way?” He scans the stage.
“He’s backstage.” The moment I say it my thoughts go to Xander, who’s probably downing shots before he goes on. I wouldn’t blame him if he did. I don’t know how he could go on stage without some.
“I’m shocked he let you come watch,” I add.
“I was one of the very few people who ever heard that dude play. He used to have this habit of getting shit-faced drunk and playing for some of us in the unit. He never remembered it the next day, and we never reminded him. When he tried to pull some shit, saying this weekend wasn’t good for me to come over, I got him to talk.”
He accepts a beer from the waitress, slipping her a ten and telling her to keep it. The waitress thanks him and sets the other drinks on the table. I quickly down the shot of Fireball and Brandi hurries to play catch-up.
“Well, I’ll be damned. I see I’m not the only one that’s Irish here,” he says with a smile.
“Damn straight,” Brandi says through a grimace.
“Ain’t nothing wrong with that,” Chase says, raising his beer to her.
“So, Irish, what do you do?” Brandi asks. He smirks and takes a long drink.
“Well, Brandi, I’m working on getting out of the Army now. I’m a captain, and I was shot in Afghanistan. Long story short, I’m ready for some freedom.” He smiles at her. “What about you, young lady? What do you do?”
“I bartend at this fabulous establishment.” Brandi raises her hands and gestures at the bar with a used car salesman’s smile. She then puts two thumbs down and blows a raspberry. Chase laughs, and it’s one of those deep belly laughs only big guys can produce.
“What are you going to do when you get out?” Brandi asks, twirling her hair between two fingers. Chase is on his second beer and drinking them as fast as I imagine any Army guy would.
“Well, I race cars.” Brandi nods her head approvingly. “And I’m a carpenter. Learned from my dad. I do some stuff with that on the side.”
“So, you race cars?” Brandi asks, ignoring the last of what he said.
“Yeah, have been for a very long time. Nothing serious. Street stuff. Two things I learned from my dad: one, how to build anything with wood ,and two, how to race a fucking car.” He finishes the last of his beer and raises it to the passing waitress. Brandi leans in now, her chin in her hands and her elbow on her knees.
“What kind of car do you race, Ricky Bobby?” she asks, just as Xander plugs his cord into an amp, pulls a stool to the middle of the stage, and takes a seat. His acoustic guitar sits in his lap and it shakes in his hands. Though obviously nervous, he looks to be composed at least. If he was drinking, he didn’t drink much.
“I have eight different vehicles. I race a lot of them.”
“Well, okay! You’ll have to take me for a ride sometime.” Brandi’s flirting is about as subtle as a face tattoo. Chase is eating it right up though.
“Tomorrow, right?” He smiles, the kind of smile that makes sitting between them seriously awkward. “I can drive to the lake house.”
“I thought Xander said you were bringing your Harley?” I ask.
“I did, but I heard somebody here happens to have a ’69 Chevelle.” He smiles mischievously and rubs his hands together.
“Oh you must be crazy. First you make impromptu reservations for my lake house and now you think you’re gonna drive my baby? You must be nuts.”
“Hey, the lake house was Xander’s idea. I just told him I was coming up and he needed to make some plans.” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “And I was promised I’d be able to drive a ’69 Chevelle so…” He lifts both hands and shrugs.
“Okay, you and Xander must both be nuts. Nobody drives her but me.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate, because there’s no way a woman is driving that car properly.” He laughs and curls up, waiting to block me from hitting him.
“I see you and Xander are just two peas in a pod, huh?”
I playfully raise my fist and he flinches just as Xander starts to speak into the mic, introducing himself. We clap loudly as he begins his first song. Bryson Whittaker wanted all covers and Xander starts with one of my favorites—Counting Blue Cars by Dishwalla. My appreciation of obscure 90’s alternative acts is a well-known fact in this town.
Beyond a few hiccups at the beginning of his set, Xander nailed it. He seemed nervous and his eyes didn’t often leave the ground—most of the time they weren’t even open—but he played. And he played well.
I’ve also learned I can’t drink with Chase. I get competitive when someone questions my drinking abilities. With each shot Chase ordered, he warned me against trying to match him. So, of course, then I’d order a shot of my own… Every. Single. Time.
Lucky for us, Xander still hasn’t had anything to drink. Not tonight, not earlier today… not since running into the guesthouse porch. At least not that I know of.
Since we’re the rest of us are good and liquored up, Xander drives all of us back to the house.
Xander isn’t even smiling. He’s not angry, but he’s not happy either. His hand is on my lap, but it’s limp… lifeless. He doesn’t say a word. I hope the trip to Twain Lake tomorrow will cheer him up.
The drive is to Twain Lake is a riot. I actually do let Chase drive, after a great deal of begging, and I actually don’t regret that I do. The precision when he’s driving is ridiculous. The guy wasn’t lying when he said he races cars.
Xander just smiles, soaking up the sun from the passenger seat, his aviators perched on his face. It takes me a few minutes to realize I’m staring. I’m just happy to see him in a better mood.
We make it to the lake house around noon… perfect time to catch the best of the sun’s rays, to ride the jet skis way too fast, and to appreciate the beauty this place has to offer—a place that has given me so much joy over the years. This lake house is as much my home as Truman Valley, and I’m so thankful to be spending the weekend here with these people.
Chase pulls in, parks and is out of the car with his shirt off before any of us can even open our doors. He runs to the water, high-kneeing it through the shallow part and diving in when it’s up to his hips. Xander laughs and shakes his head, then he gets out himself.
Brandi hauls her bags inside and proceeds to change into the skimpiest bikini in existence. I’m used to it by now, but it seems Chase is not. His eyes are glued to her. Xander averts his eyes as soon as he possibly can. He seems to have only eyes for me and it couldn’t make me happier. As Brandi dives into the water, he takes me into his arms and kisses me.
Xander still hasn’t had a drop of alcohol. The rest of us… well, I can’t say the same. I love that Xander is trying so hard.
Chase is a beast. He’s been slamming drinks like he’s been lost in the Sahara for days—only they’re not water. Beer… after beer… after beer. And somehow he still dances like a pro, music playing from the lake house guiding him along. Brandi dances close by. She’s wasted but coherent, and moving closer to Chase by the minute. Xander and I sit in beach chairs near the bonfire, both of us watching them dance through the flames.
“Xander… how are you? I know things haven’t been easy for you since everything, but just know I do see you trying.”
“Thanks.” He smiles and then stares off toward the lake. “That night
… driving like that. That was an eye-opener.” He pauses and looks as if he’s trying to think of the right words to say…or whether to say them at all. “That wasn’t even close to the first time something like that’s happened. I got a DUI in Miami. It was my first day there. You’d think I would’ve learned from that, but I didn’t. I’ve done it more times than I could ever comfortably admit since then.”
I can only shake my head. My thoughts stray to my cousin Katie and the heartbreaking phone conversations we’ve had since her dad died. Sometimes she cries, other times she curses the drunk driver. What she didn’t do for a long time was cope. I don’t think Dad ever truly has.
“Honestly, Xander, that’s shocking to hear.” It’s the only thing I can say. I know he’s been through some shit, but it doesn’t excuse him putting people’s lives at risk. Nothing excuses that.
He’s healed a lot from his past. I can see that in just the short time I’ve known him. He’s kind. He has manners and he’s polite. He’s intelligent and self-educated… but this man is still dealing with a lot. It makes me ache for him, but I could never be okay with something like that. Ever.
“Xander.” His shoulders drop as if he knows what’s to come. “I see you trying. And I love that you’re trying. But for someone to drive like you did that night…” My voice trails off. I don’t want to be too harsh, because I can only imagine how he’s feeling right now.
“You don’t think I know?” His eyes are fixed sharply on mine; his tone rising just a bit. “You don’t think I’ve woken up time and time again trying desperately to piece together spotty memories from the night before? That I don’t worry about what I may have done? I’m trying here.”
“I know you are.” I take his hand in mine and brush my thumb softly against his skin. Laughter from Chase and Brandi carries from the shore through the darkness.
“I don’t want to be that person,” he says, his eyes not meeting mine. I desperately wish they would. “But it’s like…” His voice breaks. “When I’m not fucked up… feeling…. It’s just too real. It’s too much.”
“What do you mean?”
He rubs his temples, sighing in obvious frustration. “I can’t even explain it.”
I grab both his hands in mine now as he tries not to look at me.
“Try.”
“When I’m sober, shit runs through my mind… my parents, the Boy’s Home, my sister, shit I’ve done in my life since then… it all sits right there at the center of my brain, fucking with me. When I drink… when I smoke…those thoughts go away. I feel good. I feel free. Like I don’t have a care in the world.”
He pulls a joint from his ear and lights it, taking a long, slow drag.
“But you can’t live like that, Xander. That’s not how it’s done. You gotta face that shit.”
“And what shit do you face, Paige?” He immediately looks regretful as I give him a glance reserved only for the most fucked-up occasions.
“You know that Cody guy, Xander? The one who’s about three inches taller and twenty pounds heavier than you? You think he just slapped me around here and there?” He doesn’t respond and won’t even look at me now.
“Cody fucking beat me until I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror afterward. He beat me so bad I wouldn’t leave our apartment for weeks until I recovered. My family was so concerned, but I didn’t care. I didn’t have time to care. I was so fucking scared of him, and yet I was so in love. Do you understand that, Xander? Can you?”
He still doesn’t look at me. His fingers intertwined, he rubs his thumbs together feverishly.
“I thought he would kill me, Xander.” He finally does look up and right into my eyes. Then he wraps his hands around mine once again.
“I’d kill him for you, Paige.”
“I don’t want that. I don’t want you going to prison and I don’t want him dead. I just want all this to stop.” I take a deep breath, fighting back the tears that want to come. “And I want him out of my life.”
“Is that even possible?” Xander asks.
“I have no clue.” I think about leaving Truman Valley, joining Xander on his journey to Washington. It doesn’t sound so bad to me. We sit in silence awhile and I can feel the tension in him. I want to take it away, but I don’t know how.
“Paige, do you know what you mean to me?” he asks, catching me off guard.
“Well, I like to think I have an idea. But tell me… tell me what I mean to you.”
“So. Fucking. Much. More than I’m comfortable even admitting. I’ve never gotten close to a woman before. I’ve dated, yes, but it’s never meant anything. Not a single fucking thing. I just never let them get close. But this…” He points to me and then at himself. “This is real. This is different. From the moment I saw you, Paige…”
My thoughts bring me back to that day we met at Whittaker’s, the way this complete stranger came to my rescue. It could be the plot of a damn romance novel, for Christ’s sake.
“From the moment I saw you, too. But where the hell do we go from here?” I ask. “What happens when you have to leave? I understand you have to, but what happens to us?”
He shakes his head. “God, Paige, I don’t know.”
I smile, pulling his palm to my mouth, I kiss it softly. This isn’t what tonight was supposed to be about. I don’t want to think about tomorrow anymore…only today…only right this moment. “Will you come to the house with me?” He hesitates as I stand, still holding one of his hands. I pull it lightly. “Come with me.”
When he doesn’t move I let go of his hand and start walking toward the house.
“Paige,” he calls from behind me.
“Just come.” I walk inside, leaving the door open, and head straight for my room.
I don’t turn the lights on; I don’t need to. I’ve been coming to the lake house for as long as I can remember. I stand next to the bed, waiting for Xander to find his way through the dark stillness of the house.
“Xander?” I ask.
“Yes.” His voice comes from just outside the door.
“What are you doing?” I ask as I strip everything off but a tank and panties.
“I don’t know. But we shouldn’t do this here. This is still your father’s house, Paige.”
“Who said I wanted to do anything with you in the first place?” I scoff. “I just want to cuddle. Now, get your ass in bed.”
He walks into the room and stands on the opposite side of the bed. He pulls off his boots and jeans and then takes his shirt off, exposing his broad muscular chest and abs in the dim moon light. He slides under the covers and I join him there. I scoot myself back until my body meets his warm, solid chest. Before I completely settle in, he throws an arm over me and pulls me into him. I can feel his dick throbbing against my ass. He runs his fingertips up and down my arm in soft, delicate patterns.
I’m powerless against how wet my panties have become. I grind my ass into his stiffening dick again. He groans, and taking my earlobe into his mouth, he lightly nibbles it. He trails kisses down my neck and that sensitive spot behind my ear that sends tingles throughout my entire body.
My panties are almost completely soaked through now, but at this point, I don’t care because two of his fingers have pulled them to the side. One of them dives recklessly into my entrance, and my body is owned by a pleasure and anticipation I’ve never felt before.
I didn’t want to be here. I mean, I wanted to be in this situation with her, but not here. Not anywhere Jack Watson owned. But holy fuck, what the hell am I to do? She’s insatiable. And though I know how wrong this is, my cock doesn’t seem to care
My roaming hands unintentionally rub up against her panties. Shit, she’s completely wet. Now I’m aching at the idea of being inside her.
My mind fights to rationalize the situation, but my dick is like a laid-back pool shark who already knows what’s coming.
I pull her drenched panties to the side and thrust two fingers in. She squeals first, and then it t
urns into a moan as my fingers meet her G-spot. I just want to fucking taste her.
I need to taste her.
I trail kisses down the side of her neck, along the curve of her waist. Her body tenses as I kiss over her stomach. I grab onto her thighs and gently shove them apart, my fingers still working deep inside of her. My lips hover over her pussy and I blow a long breath across her delicate skin before I run my tongue against her clit. She lets out a breathy, fervent moan.
Her moans make my cock twitch.
I feel her body shudder and then stiffen. Her hands grab desperately at my hair. I know she’s about to come and I want to feel its warmth against my tongue. Her body arches off the bed wildly as she screams and moans my name. Her legs shake against the sides of my head as she watches me clean her up…every last drop.
I work my lips up to her stomach—to her neck, and then I kiss her. She’s in a lustful haze coming out from the fog of her orgasm. She looks at me hungrily and grabs a handful of my hair. I can’t fight the urge to taste her again. I want to savor every bit of it. I push her panties to the side and slowly swipe my tongue over her.
God, she tastes so fucking good.
The second my tongue circles her clit, her heels dig into the mattress, and her back bows away from the bed. “Shit,” she breathes, fisting my hair. “You gotta stop.”
My tongue reluctantly parts from her insatiable pussy and she pulls me up toward her, and I kiss her. Knowing she can taste herself on me, makes me grow harder by the second. Both her hands grab my triceps and she digs her nails in as I work my mouth over to her neck, sucking and biting.
I rip her panties completely off and throw them to the floor. She pulls her shirt over her head, nearly tearing it in the process, and her hands meet her hardened nipples. The sight of her playing with them makes my dick beg to be inside her. With the sexiest look in her eyes, she tugs on my briefs now soaked with precum.
I fight the urge to lose myself in her. I know in just a few moments I will be inside her. I’ll feel all of her. And once I’ve had her, I fear I’ll never want to leave. The desire to be inside her is running as high as it could ever be.
