by A. C. Wilds
A girl picks up on the third ring. “Hey, Felicia! How you doing, girl?” Ashton’s voice is dripping with flirtation.
“Ashton? Is that you? What can I do for you?” She giggles. I imagine her twirling her hair as she waits for his next instructions.
“I know it’s almost closing time, but is there any way you could have a couple of pies ready for me?” His voice is filled with hope, but he already knows what she’s going to say.
“Sure, sugar. Your usual?” The beeping of her register sounds through the phone.
“Yes, ma’am.” He turns his face to me and I let out a loud groan, throwing my hand up to my face. I can’t believe I’m going to have to do this. Drunk, no less.
“Great, we’ll be there in ten.”
“I can’t believe that I agreed to do this. There’s a big chance I’m going to die from poisoning, then you’re going to have to find someone else to pay the rent and cook breakfast.”
“I’m recording it so I can relive it over and over. I’m more excited about this than the new girl I met at the gas station on the way to Nelson’s. Your pizza-eating is going to be the highlight of my year.”
“I’m glad to know my torture is going to keep you entertained for years to come.”
“Don’t look so glum. You might love it.”
“There is no way I’m going to love that horror you call a pizza. It’s an utter disgrace. Your lucky we’re in California and not in Italy. They’d have your head.”
“I’m sure they aren’t worried about a stoner lifeguard who enjoys sweet and salty flavors.” He pulls into the parking lot and gives me one last look before getting out of the car.
Watching him charm Jordan and grab the pie makes me realize I could never be as relaxed as Ashton. He’s light-hearted and generous. Nothing ever affects him too deeply. I envy his ability to shake things off—things like Bliss.
The scent of pizza floods my senses as he gets into the car and hands me the pie. I take it, careful not to burn myself. Peeking into the box, I grimace at what I see. It’s as disgusting as I thought it would be.
“DO IT!” Ashton shouts as I lift the pizza to my mouth. I’ve gagged twice already. This is horrible. If my brother could see me now, his grin would be as infectious as Ashton’s. They’d have been best friends.
With one last look at him, I bite down. A squishy, stringy texture hits my tongue before the fruit explodes in my mouth. I’m going to throw up. It tastes like a hot fruit cup and tomatoes has been blended with melted cheese.
I drop the slice on the plate and hear Ashton’s laughter all the way to the bathroom. I open up the toilet and spit out the disgusting mixture. God, that was nasty.
“It’s not that bad. Dude, it’s sweet and salty together,” Ashton says, leaning against the doorframe, a paper towel in his hands.
I grab it from him and wipe my mouth, sinking to the floor. “That was worse than the time my ex-girlfriend made me eat oysters. And that was like a huge loogie going down my throat.”
“You’re fucking dramatic. I’m going back to my pizza. I’ll eat all the pineapple for you. You can have the pepperoni.”
I follow him back into the kitchen, intent on eating the rest of that deliciously normal pie. I’m still tipsy even after the encounter with the pineapple.
Sitting down at the table, I slide the box over to me. The first bite is always the best. I’m so busy savoring the cheesy sauce in my mouth that I hardly hear the doorbell ring. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s almost two a.m.
“You expecting someone?” I ask, but Ashton looks just as confused as I do.
“Nope.”
I rise and, using the wall to steady me, make my way over to the door. We don’t need any visitors. I want to eat and then sleep off all the whiskey I consumed. I have the day off tomorrow, and I intend to be a bum all day.
When I open the door, I come face to face with the last person I want to see. Tear-stained cheeks and red eyes stare back at me. Her clothes are out of place, and her shoes don’t match.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my alcohol-soaked brain ridding me of my manners.
“Is Ashton here?” Shame laces the whisper that comes out of her mouth.
“Yeah, in the kitchen.” I move aside to let her in, watching her disheveled appearance. Something happened, and I’m going to find out what.
The light of the kitchen halos her silhouette as she nears the table. She looks incredibly small. Part of me wants to wrap her in my arms, but then I remember who she is.
“Hey, Bliss. What happened to you?” Ashton says, concern in his voice as he gets up from the chair and meets her in two strides.
She wraps her arms around him and buries herself inside of his shirt. She begins to cry, and I stare at her back, not knowing what to do with myself. My brain sobers up, and suddenly the pizza doesn’t look too good.
“I ran into my parents. They weren’t excited to see me. It could have been because I was dancing on the table in the bar lounge or the fact that I wasn’t exactly clothed all the way. But whatever.”
I suppress an eye roll as I move over to the table again, picking up the pizza and walking over to the couch. I’ll let the two of them sort it out. I was wrong to think that she was in real trouble, when it in fact it’s just another socialite problem.
CHAPTER SIX
BLISS
The last of my tears roll down my cheek as I furiously wipe them away. I never wanted to come here seeking solace in a guy that I’ve just met and his asshole roommate, but the thought of being alone after seeing the disapproval on my parents’ faces was gut-wrenching.
“Did you really dance on the bar? At the Sea Lavender Resort?” Ashton’s smile is wide, making some of the embarrassment disappear.
“I was drunk, and they put on good music. When the mood strikes, ya know?” It was a ridiculous excuse.
“I’m sure it was a fantastic sight considering how you’re dressed. Exactly how much clothing were you wearing?”
He pushes me down into the chair and goes to grab a glass out of the cupboard. After filling it with water, he hands the glass to me. I down it in two big gulps. He takes the seat next to me and squeezes my hand.
“Nothing less than a regular bathing suit.”
“You mean like the one you wore today?” He places his chin in his hand and gazes at me, a little dreamy-eyed.
“Yes, exactly.”
“Darling, I hate to tell you this, but dancing on a bar in that type of suit attracts the attention of everyone. Now, I’m all for the need for self-expression, but it probably wasn’t the best venue for it.”
I tap the empty glass and try not to grimace as the fight unfolds in my mind’s eye. Words were said that I’m not too proud of, but I’ve had enough of their judgement.
“I’m sorry I came here. I know it was guys’ night, but I had nowhere else to go.”
He takes my hand and kisses my fingers before, then sets my hand back on the table. “You’re always welcome here. We were just eating pizza. Actually, I was making Carson eat pineapple pizza for the first time. He loved it.”
“I heard that! And I did not love it. It was fucking nasty. A disgrace to all pizzas everywhere.”
“I have to agree with Carson, Ash. It’s gross.”
The smile he was sporting drops as he shakes his head. “You people don’t know what you’re missing. It’s delicious.”
“I’m a pepperoni fan.” I say, hoping to keep this light banter going.
“Carson, you got a slice left?” Ashton calls out.
A groan comes from the living room, but Carson comes in, carrying the pizza box. He places it in front of me and pulls out the remaining seat at the table.
Nudging the box to me, I pick up one of the two remaining slices. It’s still warm and gooey. I moan as the cheese hits my tongue, closing my eyes to enjoy the goodness that is pizza.
When I open my eyes, both guys are stopped mid-bite, intently watching me.
“What?” I ask, shrugging my shoulders.
“You’re too cute.” Ashton says, chomping on his fruit-filled slice. I try not to gag while he eats it.
“This is really good. Thanks for sharing with me, Carson.” I dare a quick glance in his direction, expecting a scowl, but his face is neutral.
“Seems like you had a rough night. I know a little about tough families.”
“They suck. Especially the ones that care about nothing other than money and social status.”
Carson clears his throat as he gets up from the table, taking the empty pizza box with him. He moves about the kitchen in haste, seeming like he needs to do something with himself. Did I say something?
“Want to watch a movie?” Ashton asks as he brushes the crumbs from his hand. “I have Avengers on the DVR.”
“Which one? Is it Endgame? Please say it’s Endgame.” I practically jump out of my seat. It’s one of my favorite movies—well, they all are, but I’ve been obsessing over Endgame since it came out.
“A Marvel fan? Carson, you have so much in common with Bliss. First pepperoni pizza and now Endgame. It’s like you two were made for each other.”
Carson stops cleaning and turns to look at me. He studies me for a moment, and my entire body heats. I try not to blush as I turn and follow Ashton into the living room.
A large sectional takes up most of the space, and on the opposite wall hangs an even bigger television. It’s the same one I have in my bedroom back home. The guys must have splurged.
“Carson, you almost done in there?” Ashton calls out, picking up the remote and turning the TV on.
A loud announcer from MSNBC comes on, talking about stock prices and a bunch of other things that I would never watch. It’s curious that it’s on in the house of two lifeguards.
The smell of popcorn hits my nose, and I hear glasses clinking in the kitchen. Moments later, Carson comes out, carrying a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of soda. He sets the three glasses down and takes a seat to my right. Far enough away to be comfortable, but not far enough to be rude. Ashton makes no such decision and leans his body into mine.
I’m not taken aback one bit; in fact, it’s nice to feel someone next to you in a non-sexual way. I haven’t had a comfort like this since Tilly died.
“Before we start, I don’t want any spoilers. I haven’t seen this movie, and I don’t want the two of you to ruin it for me.”
Ashton looks so serious that I can’t help but laugh. I didn’t think he was capable of being this serious.
“Whatever. Stop stalling and put on the movie,” Carson says, getting more comfortable on the couch by propping a pillow next to me and laying down.
My heart jumps a bit at this change in his seating. His black hair is twisted every which way. It takes everything in me not to run my fingers through his hair.
The opening credits begin, and I snuggle closer to Ashton. I’ve sobered up and am ready to enjoy the moment. Even if tomorrow is going to be a day of reckoning, I’m using this time to lose myself.
I WAKE up when the closing credits roll across the screen. Ashton is snoring softly beside me, but Carson is wide awake and watching me.
“What?” I ask, my gaze roaming over his face for any tells.
“You snore.” His voice is so matter-of-fact that I chuckle, jostling Ashton a bit, but he merely mumbles and turns over on the couch.
Pushing myself to a sitting position, I come nose to nose with Carson. His aftershave fills my senses, and a little shiver of pleasure goes through me.
“I’m sorry if I woke you.” I clear my throat, pulling up the shoulder of my rumpled sweater.
“You didn’t,” he replies, angling his body toward mine, his arms flexing with the movement.
Thoughts flood me, and they aren’t the school-girl kind. If Carson wasn’t such a jerk, I would take things to the next level—gladly.
“You’ve got beautiful eyes,” he whispers as he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. The gesture is so gentle, so completely unlike him.
I smirk. “Did you just compliment me?”
I can’t help the heat that rushes over me. The glow from the television outlines his face, making him even more attractive than the first time I met him.
Pulling my knees up around me, I shift and turn my entire body toward him. All my sleepiness gone. Anticipation fills me, and I’m eager to see what’s next.
He doesn’t answer, but places his hand on the side of my face, drawing me into him. My body responds, heat pooling in my core. We’re so close now that there is nothing else I can do except to place my lips on his.
So, I do.
The sparks ignite immediately, and a moan reverberates from the back of my throat. This eggs him on, and before I know what’s happening, I’m straddling him. His hands burn my body with every touch.
I feel alive for the first time in months.
My hands roam all over his hard, rippled chest, but when they get to his neck, he pulls away, a shocked expression on his face.
“We can’t, Bliss.”
The intense insanity of the moment falls away.
“Are you kidding me?” I ask, but then I finally understand it. I’m not good enough for him.
“Ashton is right next to us.”
“We’re friends, nothing more. I’m sure he told you that?”
“He did, but this . . . this could never work.”
Embarrassment comes over me as he just solidifies what I thought. No one could ever truly want the damaged, broken girl. The girl who drinks too much and depends on her parents to survive. The girl with the gaping hole in her chest.
“I’ve got to go.” I move away from him, straightening my clothes. “Tell Ashton I’ll call him later.”
He nods, his face tinged with sadness, but he makes no move to stop me.
I glance over my shoulder one more time, to see the disgust there and memorize it. It’ll serve as a reminder that I will always be the disgraceful party girl. The one no one wants.
Tears burn the back of my eyes, and I pull my gaze from his before they fall. I won’t let him see how badly he’s cut me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BLISS
DRESSES. Rows and rows of dresses line the store that Royce’s bride, Cassy, has brought me to. His fiancée is a beautiful woman, nice enough, and makes Royce happy. It’s enough for me.
“This is so exciting! I can’t wait to see everyone in their dresses. I hope you’ll love it as much as I do,” Cassy says, grabbing my hand and leading me into the back of the store like she didn’t witness the fight I had with my parents the night before. It’s just as well, bringing up the past changes nothing.
The rest of the bridal party is there, and so is my mother. I try not to groan out loud, but I think some of it escapes me as my mother’s gaze snaps to mine. Her disapproval of me is written all over her face.
Today is going to be so great.
“Bliss, I want to introduce you to my dear friends. This is Emerson, Desi, and Emerson’s daughter Gwen.” Cassy’s hand glides over them like Vanna White.
“Hey,” I say, trying hard to match their smiles. I promised Royce last night that I wouldn’t embarrass the family further. The first step is trying my hardest not to let on how much I’d rather have a jail-house tattoo than be here.
The little girl approaches me, her cute blonde curls bouncing and a broad smile on her face. “Nice to meet you.” She holds out her hand and I give it a shake. This time, my smile is genuine.
I swallow down the tears that threaten—she reminds me of a younger Tilly. God, I miss my sister.
“Nice to meet you too, Gwen.”
Emerson walks up to us and places her hand on Gwen’s shoulder. She holds out her own hand. Her eyes are warm, but there is a glint of protection there. Cassy must have told them about my little show yesterday.
“Your brother is a great guy. I’m glad Cassy is marrying someone worthy.” Her voice isn’t threatening,
but my insecurities can’t help to think that I’m the one she deems not worthy.
Whatever. I’m used to it by now.
“Ladies!” A portly woman claps from behind me, cutting the mounting tension. “Let’s begin the fitting. Each of you has a dressing room with your name on it. You’ll find your dress inside.”
We shuffle to the back of the store, and I find the appropriate door. Rushing in, I slam it harder than intended and lean back against the cool, fabricated wooden door as I try to compose myself.
I knew it was going to be hard—being around Mother and celebrating a happiness that I could never have again—but this is awful. I feel like my insides are about to be ripped open.
I don’t belong here.
The dress is clipped to a hanger on the far wall of the tiny space. Since there’s no mirror, I assume we need to parade ourselves in front of everyone.
I shuck my clothes quickly and open the plastic garment bag. A plum, beaded sweetheart gown appears before me.
Leaning down, I grip the flowy skirt and pull the dress out of the bag. I stand back and get a good look. It’s not something I would choose for my smaller frame since I don’t have a lot of curves, but it’s not hideous, either.
I unzip the back and attempt to step into the many layers of tulle. It’s hard going, but I finally shimmy it up my hips and clasp the dress to my breasts.
A small knock comes from the door, and I let out the breath I’ve been holding. “Yes?”
“Hey, it’s me. Do you need any help? With the dress, I mean?”
Biting my lip, I close my eyes and let Cassy into the small room. “That would be great.”
I turn my back to her and flinch when her cold hands touch my skin. I regret it immediately.
The sound of the zipper pulling up makes my heart race. I can hear everyone chatting happily outside, and all I can think about is Tilly not being here with us to celebrate.
“There you go.” She steps back so I can turn around.
“Finally, something befitting a Meyer and one that covers all of you.” My mother says, from her perch.”
“Thank you, Mom,” I grit out, picking up the skirts and joining everyone in front of the mirror.
