Carry Me Home

by Lia Riley

  Thank God I’m facing out so he doesn’t see, he doesn’t know. I’m his. I’ve always been his.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tanner

  I wake at first light, and for once my first conscious sensation isn’t gut-shredding guilt, but disorienting sweetness. Sunny’s red hair splays across my bare chest. Our fingers are laced. Beneath the back of my hand is her breast, so small, barely even a rise when she’s stretched out like this, at peace, lips parted, one arm thrown carelessly over her head. Her nipples are sensitive, more than I’d imagined. The urge strikes me to bend down and lick the point, circle it with my tongue until it hardens. What happened last night was mind-blowing. I felt her tight pulse over every inch of my dick.

  She opens her eyes, and her bright gaze locks on mine like she’s never had them closed. “Hey, good-lookin’.”

  I smile back. She rolls to snuggle and freezes midway.

  My arm half extends to gather her closer, but I don’t know what to do with this sudden tension. Old habits are hard to break, so I stiffen and draw back.

  “I should shower.” She throws back the blankets and puts distance between us in record time. She’s a pro at the hookup, getting out as soon as possible.

  “Sunny.”

  “Don’t worry.” She blows me a kiss. “I’ll save hot water.”

  I don’t want her twisting what happened into a joke. “Hey—”

  But she’s shut me out. The shower turns on.

  It’s impossible to stay in bed, so I get up and neaten the destroyed bedding. We didn’t go easy on each other, but she seemed to like it, and I know I did. But night’s gone, and we’re supposed to be in Las Vegas by late afternoon. It’s a long drive, around eight hours, so we’ll need to leave soon anyway.

  At least that makes a good official story.

  She comes out twisting a scarf around her hair. The hard edge to her smile keeps me quiet. She’d said we needed to get each other out of our system. It looks like she’s drawn the windows and closed up shop. Whatever magic happened last night is long gone.

  “Come on.” I grab my backpack. “Let’s hit the road.”

  We drive over the Sierras and into the desert. The landscape turns harsher, drier, and the road is mostly empty, except for people like us, people passing though. Delilah lives in a place like this? How could you trade the ocean, leave Santa Cruz for this barren isolation? I don’t ask Sunny. She’s sleeping, or at least wants me to believe she is. The way her fingers curl every once in a while tells me she’s awake. Pippa used to fake sleep, too, when she didn’t want me to try to help her. She’d say she was tired and would lie stiff as a board. But I knew the difference between sleep breathing and real breathing and still do.

  I pull into a truck stop for lunch. We head into the dingy diner, one with mounted animal heads on the walls and background music set to a country twang. We slide into a booth and look over the menu. The only thing without meat or cheese is a side salad. Rural Nevada isn’t exactly a vegan hot spot.

  “Is that going to be enough?” I ask her.

  “Probably not.” She throws the menu to the Formica with force.

  “Want to talk?”

  “Sorry.” She points to her temples. “Headache.”

  I’m not used to this subdued version of Sunny. She’s always the one who smiles the brightest, talks the loudest, does the craziest stuff. Out the window, a trucker stands by the road, smoking. “I’m going to make a call,” I say after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. “We can try to eat somewhere else, but—”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll suffer through the iceberg lettuce.” She puts on her sunglasses and starts stacking Sweet’N Low packets.

  I go outside and hit Ford’s number in my contacts. He doesn’t know I’m coming. I booked a hotel room on the Strip but want to see him sooner rather than later. The call goes right to voice mail. Shit. I have his landline, so I try that. Someone picks up on the third ring.

  “Hello?” The girl sounds frazzled. There’s a baby crying in the background.

  “Hey, is Ford there?”

  “Who’s this?” She sounds a little suspicious.

  “Tanner Green.”

  “Oh.” The pregnant pause makes me clench my teeth. “He’s in LA.”

  “For real?” Goddamn it. I punch the brick wall. Man, I need a break. I really do. “When’s he coming back?”

  “Look, Tanner…” It sounds like she’s adjusting the phone because there’s a muffled noise and then the baby’s crying gets louder. “Call his cell. He’ll want to talk to you.”

  “I already left him a message.”

  “Then wait. He’ll be in touch. Listen, I have to go.”

  “Yeah. I get it. Oh, and hey, congrats on the baby.” Is being a teen parent a cause for congrats? I don’t even know.

  “Thanks. Bye now.”

  Ford wants to talk? Doubtful. Or maybe he wants the chance to say fuck off. We’ve always had a rivalry, and that last competition was his big chance to take me down. Everyone knew it.

  When Pippa died, people were sad because they thought I lost my girlfriend. No one knew we’d broken up. When I won the competition, people congratulated me even though I knew someone else was better.

  I keep being shoved into these roles where I’m living a life that’s not mine.

  What I need to do is say, “This is what I want,” and go for it.

  And what I want is sitting inside that shitty highway diner.

  * * *

  Vegas lights are always a shock after the long dark of the desert. We arrive on the Strip just after dark. “So about the call I made?” I say. “Earlier, at the diner?”

  “Yeah?” Sunny’s conversed only in monosyllables all day. Does she regret having sex with me?

  “My friend Ford’s not in town. Turns out he’s in LA.”

  “That sucks.” She grabs ChapStick from her purse, smears it on her lips.

  That shouldn’t turn me on, but my hard-on begs to differ. If I’m going to ask, now’s the time. “I was wondering…Will you spend another night with me?”

  She gives me an alarmed glance. “Thought we agreed last night would be a onetime thing. A little fun on the side.”

  “I never said that’s what I wanted. You aren’t a fling to me, Sunny. You aren’t a random hookup. You’re every—”

  “Don’t act like hookup is such a bad word. Guys sleep around all the time, and for whatever reason that makes them even more awesome. Girls do the same and get judged. Such a fucking double standard.”

  “I’m not holding you to any criteria. I’m saying that I like you and I want to be with you and I think that you liked being with me.”

  “It felt good, but…” Her forehead wrinkles like she’s working out a puzzle. “I wouldn’t say I liked it.”

  I try to focus on the growing amount of traffic, my lips pressed tight.

  “That came out all wrong.” Her voice is quiet. “I loved it. I’ve never had that kind of connection with someone.”

  Hope flares in me. “Then say yes.” I reach over and take her hand. “Please. Stay another night. You have to be at your mom’s tomorrow. I get it. But let me have this one night.”

  She rolls down the window and dangles her free hand out, lets her fingers surf the breeze. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

  My shoulders drop. “Thank you.”

  “But let’s go out first.”

  “On the Strip?” I don’t want to be in some scene. I just want her, alone, with me, figuring out what we are to each other.

  “I haven’t been here since I turned twenty-one.”

  I’d buy her airy offhand tone better if she weren’t keeping her gaze averted. “Okay.”

  “I want an epic night.”

  “Me too.” But I can’t shake the feeling that we have different definitions.

  We check into the hotel, and Sunny doesn’t budge from the doorway to our room. The bed is huge, king-sized. She won’t look at it. “Ready?”
she asks. “First drinks are on me.”

  We hit a kitschy tiki lounge nearby, a dimly lit joint blasting Jawaiian music and lined with bamboo pots and carved wooden masks. I go to order two beers.

  She puts a hand over mine, silencing me midorder. “One does not enter a tiki bar for beer.” Instead she shouts, “Two Bearded Clams.” She gives me a wink. “Trust me—one of these bad boys will lift your grass skirt.” The bartender passes mine over and I take a tentative sip. Sick. It’s way too sweet. Sunny pounds hers in a few gulps.

  “Ah.” She spills a bit on the bar and uses the edge of her skirt to mop it up. “So much better. Onward and upward.”

  Then she’s dragging me to the next place, an ultramodern bar, all glass and techno with hookahs on the table. Our table gets littered with more and more glasses. She switches to tequila. I can’t keep up. I don’t drink a lot, hardly ever do.

  “Dance with me.” She stands and gestures toward the bodies grinding beneath the DJ booth.

  “That’s not my scene.”

  “It is tonight.” Her eyes shine, but they are almost too bright. A hectic color flushes her face.

  “Sunny—”

  “Come on, Gramps.” We get on the floor. She doesn’t rub against me like I expect. Instead she closes her eyes and starts to weave her hips in a hypnotic figure eight, her head arched back, her lips parted. I can’t move. I’m mesmerized. Then she turns around. God, the way her ass shakes? It’s like I never want to look at anything else again.

  She starts dancing with a cute blond girl. They brush on each other, and people around start to take notice. Two hot girls might be the ultimate for a lot of guys, but the only thing it’s doing is making me vaguely jealous. I don’t want to watch some big performance. I want Sunny with me, back in our room, in bed.

  She threads her hands through the other girl’s long hair and they grind closer. The girl cups Sunny’s ass, and someone gives a wolf whistle. I turn and walk back to our table. She doesn’t notice I’m gone.

  I text Ford, Call me, then finish my drink. Sunny comes over, arm slung around her new friend.

  “Chloe.” Sunny slurs a little. “Meet Tanner. Tanner, Chloe.”

  “I want to leave.” I yell to be heard over the throbbing music.

  “Good idea. Let’s go.” Sunny smushes her cheek against Chloe’s face. “She’s coming too. She’s at the same hotel as us. Isn’t that crazy?”

  “Great.” Just fucking great.

  We walk to our place. Turns out Chloe is here on some business, working a trade show. I don’t get why Sunny insists on bringing her along.

  When we get back to the hotel, I give Chloe a stiff smile, more than ready to wrap up. “Good to meet you. Have a nice night.”

  She frowns, an uncertain expression flickering over her dainty features. “But I thought—”

  “She’s coming up to the room for a nightcap,” Sunny says, stepping between us.

  “We don’t have any alcohol,” I answer. And you don’t need any more.

  “I used to be a Girl Scout.” Chloe giggles, opening her bag and pulling out a silver flask. “Always prepared.”

  “Oh my God.” Sunny lets out a little squeal. “You are so cute. Isn’t Chloe cute, Green? And so fucking hot?”

  What’s happening here?

  Sunny blows past me to the elevator. “Ready to get it up?” she asks, directing a smirk in my direction before eyeing Chloe up and down. “I mean, go up?”

  The elevator doors close, and it’s hard to ignore that I’m wedged between two girls. They lean in to me, get close, then closer. Sunny’s hand snakes around my waist. She turns me to face Chloe.

  “Tell me you don’t want her?” she whispers.

  The elevator doors open to two guys in suits waiting. They give me a wink and a thumbs-up as we exit.

  No. This is not what it looks like. I don’t want Chloe. Whatever game Sunny’s playing doesn’t have winners.

  “I’ve had enough.” I pull out our key card. “Today was a lot of driving. I’m ready to crash.”

  Sunny follows me into our room. “Come in.” She’s not talking to me.

  She better not be thinking what I think she’s thinking.

  Chloe shuts the door as Sunny turns on a lamp by the bed. She lies down and holds out her hand to Chloe. They cuddle, their long hair mingling together, the blond and the red.

  My neck muscles are so tight my teeth hurt. I have to stop this. I have to stop Sunny.

  “Snuggle us.” She flexes her toes at me. The nails are painted a pale sea blue.

  “I’m fine standing.” I lean back against the dresser and take off my hat. “What the hell is going on?”

  “You said you wanted another night.” Sunny rolls on one side and strokes Chloe’s shoulder. “Thought we’d go big or go home.”

  “No.” The word is out before I can even think. It’s a reflective instinct.

  “No?” Sunny’s brow wrinkles. “I don’t think you understand. Two girls, Tanner. That’s like what, every guy’s biggest wet dream?”

  “Not mine.” My hands are in two tight fists. I walk to the window, look down at the bustling city street. What the fuck? My heart is beating hard.

  “Maybe I should leave.” Chloe sounds uncertain. “This seems like—”

  “Stay.” Sunny’s voice is firm. “Tanner’s got to learn how to let loose.”

  “Go.” I turn around and address Chloe straight up, no bullshit. “You seem like a nice girl, but whatever you thought would happen here, isn’t.”

  “But you’re Tanner Green.” Her voice takes on a whiny edge. “I mean, you’re, like, famous.”

  A sharp pain spreads between my shoulders. Sunny baited the girl using my name? Brought her back to the room for me to fuck? My chest tightens and I’m nauseated. “Time to go. Party’s over.”

  “Green,” Sunny snaps. “Stop.”

  “You. Stop.” In an instant I shift from shocked, sickened even, to straight-up pissed. Shaking pissed. Gut-curling pissed. I break down my defenses for Sunny and this is what she gives me in return? A half-assed offer of a threesome with a drunk starfucker?

  Chloe scuttles past and pauses at the door. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She huffs out, slamming the door.

  “What’s up your ass, Green?”

  I turn and move toward the bed. Sunny shoves off the mattress and stalks toward me. She wants to fight fire with fire? Fine. Let’s burn it down.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sunny

  My shoulders can’t go any farther back. “I’m serious. What the actual fuck, Green?”

  “Took the words out of my mouth.”

  “What was that you said earlier, about wanting another night?”

  “A night with you, Sunny. Not you and some random bar pickup.”

  God, the way he says bar pickup. “I didn’t suggest paper cutting your eyeballs. It was a threesome. I’ve never tried it. Why not experiment, have fun? Why does everything have to be so hard?”

  “I wanted you. No one else.” His hat bounces through the curtains, hits the window with a soft thud.

  I’m a little drunk and a lot scared. When he said he wanted another night, all I could think of was why stop there? Nights have a funny way of cycling back every twelve hours. We could do it again, and again, and again. But that way lies madness. I’m not someone big on making plans or commitments.

  “This is our shot, Sunny. Why won’t you take it?”

  God, he’s saying everything I want to hear, my best dream and worst nightmare rolled into one. I press my hands to my cheeks. “I feel like I’m in Brokeback Mountain.”

  Tanner sits on the edge of the bed. “You’re a gay cowboy?”

  “What? No. I mean I can’t quit you.”

  “So don’t.”

  “But this isn’t a good time for me to be with anyone. And by anyone I mean you. What about my friends? Beth? Talia? They’ll freak.”

  “
Maybe they won’t. Maybe they’ll understand.”

  They would, and that’s the sucky truth. They are such great girls. I mean Talia and Tanner, that was a weird deal, but it’s well and truly in the past. Now she’s in Africa and the mayor of Love City with her Australian surfer. She’d tell me to be happy and I agree.

  I want to be happy.

  I sit next to Tanner and rub my sweaty palms on my knees. “Here’s the problem. I want the easy happy. For me, a surface-level happy is more than good enough. Most people never even get that chance.”

  “You can’t live that way.” He catches my arm, right over the elbow, and pulls me close. His lips part and, God, what a mouth. No one else ever needs to have a mouth ever again. Tanner’s taken the best one in existence. Pretty sure angels are weeping or high-fiving—probably both—and I’d like to join them.

  “Trust me on this—the surface is better,” I whisper. He’s going to kiss me. I’m going to let him. “Go deeper and it’s impossible to breathe, Tanner. It’s too dangerous.”

  His lips cover mine, and the kiss is light, so light that I shouldn’t feel half of the sensations thundering through me.

  He’s a bad idea, but the worst ideas can be the best fun. Fuck it. I open to him, and when his tongue slicks over mine, I’m the one whimpering.

  He pulls back a little. “You’re kind of drunk.”

  “I’m buzzed, but I know what I’m doing. Wanting you has nothing to do with my blood alcohol level.” Tanner is another substance that’s twice as intoxicating, a guy who wants more than just what’s between my legs.

  He reaches and checks himself. It’s heartbreaking that he wants to touch and yet holds back. I settle his hand on my upper ass. The other one I position in my hair.

  “Touch me,” I say. “Hold me close.”

  He fists my hair, his mouth crushing mine. “I’ll never get close enough.”

  “I know. I know.” But I also know how we can make a difference. I hike his T-shirt, tear it over his head. The static makes his hair stand up. I reach to smooth it down and yelp. “You shocked me.”