by Jay McLean
“Is it true?” I croak out, “About your parents paying her off?”
He nods and looks away. “That part is true. My lawyers think that maybe she singled me out because she knew my parents had money.”
“I’m sorry,” I say truthfully. “That all of that happened to you and now you have to be back at your old high school and—”
“It’s not so bad,” he interrupts, smiling over at me. “I wouldn’t have met you otherwise.”
I look away because he’s giving me that look. The same one Luke gave me right before—
“Lo?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re going to be late for your shift.”
I’m hot, burning flames under his scrutinizing gaze, and my emotions hit me. Hit me hard.
Guilt.
Shame.
Both things I should not be feeling.
“You can kiss me,” I croak.
His smile is quick to consume him. Then he nods toward the building. “You better go.”
“But…”
“Oh,” he says, his grin growing. “You want me to kiss you right now?”
My stomach turns, my embarrassment flooding me. “No.”
He chuckles. “Sanders, I didn’t ask if I could kiss you. I asked when you would finally let me.”
“Okay, I get it.” I wave my hands between us. “I got my wires crossed.” I open the car door, quickly get out and shut it after me.
“Lois!” he calls, window lowered. He leans over the center console, makes sure I can see him. “I’ll pick you up after your shift. Take you to dinner.” He winks… not so creepy anymore. “First-date kisses are always the best.”
He shows up to my work ten minutes before my shift ends and sits inside the ticket booth with me as if he owns the place, and going by his car, his house, and the way his parents throw around their money, he probably does own it. When I’m done, he waits for me to clock out and then walks me to a black truck. “Where’s your car?” I ask.
“In my garage.”
“So… whose is this?”
“Eddie’s.”
“And Eddie is… a friend?”
“Our gardener.”
“Of course you have a gardener.”
He smiles. “I traded cars for the night, threw in a room at a hotel for him and his wife, too. Trust me, they’re in for good times.”
I get in my seat, buckle my belt, and wait for him to get in. “So why change cars?”
“Because I’m taking you out on a date.”
“And you need a truck because…?”
He smiles. “Because this is where we’re having said date.”
I shake my head, clear the fog. “I’m so confused.”
“I’ll explain later.”
He drives to a Mexican restaurant, orders a bunch of food to go, then drives back to his place, past the guard at the security gate and through the pristine, quiet streets of his neighborhood. We don’t go to his house, though. Instead, he drives to the outskirts of his prestigious little community until we’re parked in a spot that gives us a view of all the cookie-cutter mansions from a distance. And as I look at the houses, I feel my heart plummet because he’s taken me on a date, a date far away from everyone who can judge him for being with someone like me.
I’m thirteen again. Sitting in a cinema next to a boy I’m crushing on who doesn’t feel the same and I feel
So.
Fucking.
Stupid.
“You ready?” he asks, handing me a drink. He picks up the bag of food, steps out of the car, and I stay in my seat while I work out what would be worse: sitting with him through our “date” or calling him out on it. He opens my door, and I step out, take his hand as he leads me to the bed of the truck.
For a few minutes, he eats in silence, and I feel too sick to take a bite.
“Did something happen at work?” he finally asks.
I shake my head and face him. “What are we doing?” I ask him, my voice cracking with emotion.
“You don’t like tacos?” His smile fades when I look up at him, attempting to hide my true feelings. “You’re mad,” he says, not a question, a presumption. He exhales loudly, puts his food down. “When I said I would take you to dinner, you expected something fancy, right?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Is it…” I take a breath and then another, and I decide to be honest because history shows that keeping my feelings hidden, secret, only lead to disaster. “I feel like you’re ashamed of me. Like you want to keep me to yourself… your dirty little secret.”
“Never!” he says quickly. “That’s not…” He rubs his eyes, his frustration evident. “Look, I’ve done fancy before, Lois. I was twelve the first time my dad made me suit up and sit through one of his pathetic business dinners in the most expensive restaurant in town. And I’ve sat through many more since. For me, those places are nothing but lies and deception and no, it’s not that you’re my dirty little secret but yeah, I kind of do want to keep you to myself. Or, at least, I want to keep you separate from that. Because you’ve experienced enough lies and enough deception, and I don’t want that for you. I really don’t. But this is me, the real me.” He waves his hand around us. “And if you’re not into this then I can go home, change, and we can go somewhere else.”
“That’s not what I want,” I tell him, my voice low, my shame high. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, I’m glad you did. I want you to be honest with me because it makes it so much easier to be the same with you. Because I like you, Lo. Like, really like you. And I’ve taken a lot of girls to a lot of fancy places and it all ends the same way.”
My nose scrunches in disgust.
He laughs. “But I’ve never done this before.”
“Tacos in a truck?”
Smiling, he says, “I’ve never been comfortable enough to just be me. And I don’t know… you being here right now—it kind of gives me a reason to like who I am, you know? If you like me, then I can’t be that bad.”
I return his smile. I can’t help it. “You make me happy, Coop.”
His grin widens, but mine falls. And then I ask him something I’d been wondering my entire shift. “How is this going to work? Us dating? Is it, like, an alter ego for you? You go to college during the week and be this other guy you speak of and come home on weekends and be with me? Are you…” I clear my throat. “Are you going to see other girls while you’re there?”
He chuckles. “I figure it’ll pretty much be the same way it is now. I call you every night, beg for you to speak to me. Lose myself in your voice during the week, then satisfy all my cravings on the weekends.”
“Your cravings?” I giggle.
“I crave you, Sanders. I crave your company.” He cups my cheek, his lips meeting my forehead. “And your laugh, your smile, your touch. I miss you when I can’t be around you, and when I am here I want more of you. Just you. There are no other girls. And there won’t be.”
“Promise?” I whisper, my eyes drifting shut when his lips hover over mine.
“I could promise you the world, Sanders, but it doesn’t mean anything unless you trust me. And you have to trust me. You have to realize that I’m not him.”
I exhale, slowly, drink in his words. “Are you going to kiss me now?”
He pulls back, his grin promising. Then he releases me, picks up his food again. He stares ahead while I stare at him, at the movement of his jaw as he chews his food, his mind elsewhere. And I no longer feel guilty that I want him to kiss me. And soon.
“You always walk with your head lowered,” he says out of nowhere.
“What?”
“Yeah.” He nods, wipes his mouth on a napkin. Then he turns to me. “It’s like you’re afraid of the world seeing you. Or, maybe, you’re afraid that they do see you.”
I drop my gaze.
“You’re a pretty exceptional girl, Sanders. It sucks you think the world doesn’t see you that way
.”
“You can’t assume to know that about me,” I tell him.
“Oh yeah? You’re doing it right now.”
“Doing what?”
“Look up,” he says.
So I lift my gaze, and I do as he says. There’s nothing but acres and acres of empty land. “What am I looking at?” I ask him.
“The world. Untouched.”
I sigh, look over at him.
He raises his eyebrows. “Don’t you want to be the first to touch something? To reach out and grasp onto the world around you? You can’t touch it if you can’t see it.”
A sob forms in my throat and I keep it there, his words replaying in my mind, over and over, because he’s right. I’ve lived my life, almost eighteen years of it, but I’ve never really lived. Every hour, every action, every decision was made with Lucas in mind. I didn’t go to parties, hoping he’d show up at my door, wanting to get in bed with me, praying he’d see me differently. But the four walls of my basement bedroom aren’t enough anymore, and when I’m done with senior year, there’s nothing waiting for me but those same four walls.
“Are you cold?” Cooper asks, and I realize I’m shivering. Whether it’s from the temperature or my sudden fear about my future, I don’t know.
Still, he moves to sit behind me, his legs on either side, his arms around my waist. He rests his chin on my shoulder, his thumb stroking my stomach. “I didn’t say that stuff to hurt you,” he says.
I crane my neck, look up at him. “I know.”
Then his mouth descends, his lips finding mine. He kisses me softly, slowly, as if we have all the time in the world. And maybe we do. He pulls back, inhales loudly. “Holy shit,” he whispers, then goes back to kissing me. My body heats against his, his tongue like torture, dancing with mine. I shift so I’m sitting across his lap, making it easier for both of us, and I kiss him back, give him a piece of my heart that not so long ago was broken. His hand lands on my leg, creeping higher, bringing my dress up with it. And without thinking, I spread my legs just enough so he can slide his hand to where I want him. He stops an inch away, rears back, his eyes hooded, filled with lust. “I should take you home,” he says.
I choke on a gasp, trap his hand between my legs. “Why? Am I doing it wrong?”
“No.” He chuckles, shakes his head. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve made out with a girl for this long without… you know, going further… and I need to take you home so I can go home and take care of it.”
I grasp his shirt, pull him back down to my mouth. Kiss him. Long and hard. “Or we could go somewhere and have me take care of it for you.”
He swallows. Loud. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “We could do that, too.”
I jump off the truck, wait for him to do the same. We get in his car, drive to his house. He leads me to his room, where I walk with my head high, looking at the world, and I decide then and there, to start living.
Chapter Fourteen
LOIS
Dating Cooper is exactly like he said it would be—it’s basically what we did pre-dating, only now he’s seen the inside of my house and my bedroom. And other things, like me naked in my bedroom.
For the past two weeks, we’ve spent every spare second together when he’s in town. Fridays I watch him coach the track team’s practice, we go out for dinner, and then back to his house. Mondays come along, I watch him do the same thing, then we have dinner, and he drops me off at home, kisses me goodbye, and we don’t see each other until the following Friday. We speak, though, every day, sometimes on the phone, sometimes through video chat.
He studies. A lot. He told me his parents agreed to his athletic scholarship on the basis that he keep up a 3.8 GPA and get a degree in business and marketing so he could one day join his dad and later take over the family business. What that business actually is, is a little sketchy to me—something about investments and finance and nest eggs and loopholes.
Now, I’m standing just outside the tunnel at school, watching them do cooldowns. Cooper waves over at me, and I wave back. Lucas turns, sees me standing there. Then he stands, starts to leave. Cooper stands, too, yells something I can’t make out. Luke shoves him. I gasp, stand taller. “What’s your problem?” Cooper yells.
“You’re my problem,” Luke shouts, shoving him harder.
Garray gets between them but he’s facing Luke, words filtering from his mouth faster than I can make out. Then he leaves. Garray, not Luke. Luke’s too busy having a stand-off with Cooper.
Garray shakes his head as he walks toward me. “You need to do something about your boy.”
“Who?” I look from him to Luke to Cooper. “Cooper?”
Without so much as slowing, he says, “Luke! He’s lost his fucking mind!”
Cooper comes next, his eyes narrowed, anger flaring on his lips. He sighs when he gets to me, hands on hips.
“What the hell just happened?” I ask.
“It’s fine, baby.” He kisses my forehead. “I’ll be out soon, okay?”
I nod, watch him go down the tunnel and when I turn back, Lucas is walking toward me. “What the hell was that?” I ask him, blocking his path so he has no choice but to talk to me.
He tries to step around me but I shift, my hands going to his chest to stop him. His shoulders tense, his lips pressed tight. “What, Laney?” he shouts, his voice echoing off the walls of the tunnel. “Your boyfriend gets a little of his treatment back and now you want to talk to me?”
I drop my gaze. “What’s going on with you, Luke?” I ask, my tone soft.
He shoves my hands off him. “Leave it alone, Lane.”
“Luke!” I look him in the eyes, hoping he sees my concern.
“You want to know what’s happening? Fine!” He steps closer, towers over me, his eyes right on mine—eyes filled with rage. “Your boyfriend won’t get off my back. He just keeps pushing and pushing until I’ve got no room to fucking move!” He sucks in a breath. “Leo’s grades were suffering, so the school brought a specialist in and they told him he’s dyslexic. All those books he walks around with? He can’t even fucking read them! And last night…” He laughs, but not out of humor. “Last night the cops showed up on our doorstep with Logan, cuffed. He was smoking weed at the fucking playground. And the twins are being bullied at school, so much so that Liam’s talking about killing himself! They’re only twelve! They shouldn’t be dealing with this shit.” His voice breaks, his pain slicing through his words. “And now Lachlan’s going around asking every woman he sees if they’re his mom because his mom’s dead, Laney. She’s dead, and he doesn’t understand that. And it’d be really fucking nice if his godmother was around to get him through that!”
I wrap my arms around him, tears in my eyes, because abandoning Luke served a purpose, but abandoning his brothers…
His hand settles on the back of my head, the other grasping the fabric of my top. His chest rises and falls against mine. He wipes his eyes on my shoulder, his pain causing my own. He whispers, his mouth to my ear, “And I miss my best friend, Laney. So much.”
“Where’s your head at, Sanders?” Cooper asks, watching me from his desk while I study on his bed.
I look up at him. “Hmm?”
“You’ve been on that same page for the past ten minutes.”
“I have?”
“What’s going on?”
I blow out a heavy breath. “Have you been giving Lucas a hard time at practice?”
He rolls his eyes. “This is about that kid?”
“That kid is the same age as me.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he says, getting up and sitting on the bed with me. “I do give him a hard time,” he admits.
“Why, Coop?”
He doesn’t skip a beat. “Because he’s good. Better than good. He’s the best one out there. He may even be better than me, and he’s been slacking lately—”
“He’s got a lot going on,” I cut in.
He sighs, looks at me like I’m st
upid. “And that may be fine off the track but if he wants that UNC scholarship he has to do better. I’m not doing it to be an asshole because he was one to you. He races well when he’s under pressure, when he feels like he’s competing against an enemy. I’m doing it for him, Lo. No other reason.”
“Okay,” I concede. “I’m sorry. It’s just really not like him to explode like he did today. He’s always been so calm and—”
“I really don’t care,” he cuts in.
I rear back. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. I just don’t care about Lucas off the track, especially after what he did to you. And I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I do. I get you guys were friends, but he means nothing to me.”
“Wow. That’s a little harsh.”
He shrugs. “Maybe it’s a little too much honesty when you’re used to lies.”
I start to pack my books. “I’m going home.”
“No.” He stops me, his hand around my wrist. “I’m sorry, okay?” He leans in, kisses me once. “I’m just stressing and I’m taking it out on you.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Not really.” He shifts his gaze away from me and over to the desk where he’d been doing his own studying. “My classes are killing me, and doing this whole coaching thing and training but not being able to compete is getting under my skin.” He faces me again, a sad smile pulling on his lips. “You’re my saving grace, Sanders. I live for this time with you. Stay. Please?”
I nod, open my books again.
“No,” he says. “Stay the night with me?”
I swallow, nervous, because even though we’ve had sex, we’ve never slept together. There’s a knock on his door, saving me from answering. A man pokes his head in, a man I’ve only seen in the pictures hanging on the walls. He seems taller in person, or maybe it’s just his presence. “I’m sorry,” he says, looking between us. “I didn’t know Cooper had company.”
I stand, fix my clothes, make sure he knows nothing inappropriate is going on in his son’s room. Then I walk toward him, my nerves on end, my hand out to shake. “Hi, Mr. Kennedy. I’m Lois Sanders. It’s such a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
