Finding Fate

by Charisse Spiers

  She walks forward and steps over the threshold, squaring toe to toe with me. She’s on the taller side, like her sister, but still shorter than me. She smirks, drawing my attention to her lips. “Oh yeah? What about you, country? You married?”

  “Not interested,” I tell her, wishing like hell she didn’t smell so good.

  Her smile grows. “Not interested, huh? That must be a flashlight in your pocket then.”

  I look down at the bulge sitting nice and fat to the left of my zipper. Goddammit. When I look back up, we’re so close our lips brush. She hasn’t moved back an inch. If anything, she stepped closer, as if anything with a pussy could intimidate me. “Don’t flatter yourself. Someone else did all the work before you got here.”

  She turns her head just enough to bring her lips to my ear, and then her hand is placed against my torso. I don’t move a single muscle. “You can’t lie to a liar. No one here could handle me anyway. Be a gem and bring in my luggage, will ya. Thanks.”

  And then she walks around me, her heels clanking against the floor as she puts a growing distance between us. Suddenly I’m staring at a large designer rolling suitcase and a matching carry-on. I shake my head as I walk outside and grab both, carrying them inside for the little bitch that can’t do it herself. I put them down inside the door and shut it. They’re heavier than they look. Fucking girls—they overpack for everything.

  I fish my phone out of my pocket and search for the right contact, before holding it to my ear, letting it ring. “Hello.”

  “Hell’s calling. Satan is missing one of his angels.”

  “Shit! I was supposed to get her from the airport,” Presley says. “My mother is going to crawl up my ass. I forget everything lately. I’ll be there in thirty minutes. What has she done?”

  The right side of my mouth pulls up. “Nothing, aside from giving me a strong urge to shut her up by shoving a dick in her mouth. I bet the brat isn’t so cocky choking on a cock.”

  She sighs. “Please ignore whatever she said. She has issues. I’ll deal with her as soon as I get there. I’m sorry.”

  “How old did you say she was?”

  “Paxtyn just turned seventeen in September. She’s a junior in high school. Thrives on drama and is the vainest person I know. She’s the baby of the family—which makes her a bitch—and uses it against everyone. She’s been hell on heels since she turned thirteen. My parents don’t really know what to do with her. She’s a troublemaker; acts out a lot. I’ll try to keep her on a leash. She wanted to come out for my birthday. I couldn’t really tell her no. She’s my sister, and she has a few good moments. This is her first time to visit since I moved here.”

  Paxtyn. My eyes lock on her out by the pool. What the hell has happened to the gene pool? Seventeen-year-olds did not used to look like that. They were still awkward and figuring shit out, like how to look hot. Problem is, her issues interest me, and I lack a certain moral compass the rest of the dicks in the house possess. “Where do you want her shit?”

  “Uh, would you be okay with me putting an air mattress in the main space of the basement? If not, I can figure something else out.”

  Keep your hands to your fucking self. “It’s your house. I’m just a guest.”

  “No, that’s your space at night. If she doesn’t behave, I’ll move her.” She removes her heels by the jacuzzi. I move a little to see better, just in time to watch her unbutton her jeans and work them down her legs, stepping out of them. Whatever that shit is she calls panties doesn’t even cover half her ass. God, what an ass that is. Her shirt follows, revealing a matching bra equally as slutty, making me hard again. Cock tease. Is that a belly ring? “Landon, are you there?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll move it down there,” I say into the phone, still watching her adjust shit that doesn’t need to be adjusted, hanging up my phone and returning it to my pocket when she steps in the jacuzzi.

  I force my eyes away, quickly grabbing her luggage and carrying it toward the basement. It’s time to start drinking. The more I consume the easier I’ll pass out. I should probably jerk off in the shower before bed too. That way I won’t be tempted to leave my own fucking bed. It’s a fail proof plan. I’ve done it plenty of times before.

  Maddox

  I walk in with Konnor from work, ready to take a shower and find out where Gabby is. I left her my truck so she would have a ride if she wanted to go somewhere, and basing off the fact that it’s parked outside, she’s got to be around here somewhere. We talked about going out to eat or something tonight to get away alone and spend some time together.

  Landon is standing in front of the glass doors to the patio, beer in hand, a smirk on his face as he watches something outside with amusement. “Want a beer?” Konnor asks.

  “Sure. Thanks.” I head toward Landon, following his line of vision to see what has him so interested, because it takes a lot. Presley is standing in front of a girl in her underwear who looks bored, her back toward us, her hands moving animatedly like she’s lecturing about something to the one I’m not familiar with. “Is that her sister?”

  “Yep.” I catch the smile right before he pulls the rim of the bottle to his lips, taking a swig.

  I study him. He hasn’t moved his eyes since I walked over. “What’s so funny?”

  He smiles harder—something he rarely does. Landon is the hardest person to impress. He literally cares about nothing. “Girl’s a bitch.”

  “Why is that a good thing? No one likes a bitch.” He just looks at me, saying nothing. He doesn’t have to. I know Landon. A bitch is more fun for him to crack. My eyes widen. “You’re going to try to nail a seventeen-year-old? Did you learn nothing from me? She’s in fucking high school.”

  “I’m not going to try anything. I don’t have to. Does she look innocent to you? She stripped in less than twenty minutes after arriving. I’m going to let her come to me, but if she does, she’s fair game. Unlike your daddy, mine taught me not to turn down free pussy.”

  I roll my eyes, but it’s hard not to laugh about it. “That’s because your dad would fuck any female that looked at him just right, regardless of age. If you look up ‘manwhore’ in the dictionary, you’ll find his name.”

  He shrugs, taking another drink from his beer. “At least he stays single to do it. That’s more than I can say for my mom, who made him that way. Bet she wishes she’d kept her legs closed now.”

  Bet he does too, because then his dad would still be financially supporting her for the most part instead of him. He’s been handing her money to cover her bills for years because she doesn’t make enough at her hospital job and can’t work two since she has to keep his sister’s kids while she works at night. I seriously doubt that’s changed since I moved here. I’m not going to ask either. He’s in a good mood. It’s staying buried. “Didn’t your dad fuck your ex once?”

  He laughs, still looking out the glass doors. “Erika. She came by one night for dick. Someone was already gettin’ it. He was there. I was done with her. Old man must have game. She kept coming back for it for three months.”

  My mouth tips. “I’d hardly call a forty-four-year-old an old man, and he was younger than that then. He was eighteen when your sister was born, twenty with you.”

  The glass door slides open quickly, like someone put force behind it, and the girl in her underwear storms inside with Presley not far behind, her head turned toward Landon. “What are you looking at? Got a staring problem, country? You act like you’ve never seen a body like this. Girls must be fat where you come from,” she bites out, and then snatches his half empty beer out of his hand as he was bringing it up to tilt it back. “This is payment for adding to your spank bank.”

  “So hostile,” Landon dishes back. “Not getting enough tips for the show or are the dick withdrawals kicking in?” She flips him off. “I never said I was the one for the job.”

  I shake my head. How he gets laid at all I have no idea, much less scores more pussy than anyone I know. “Like I’m
interested. I guarantee I’d be singing little dick Landon. Isn’t that your name?”

  He smiles, and I know what’s about to come out of his mouth. “Probably.” He’s full of shit. The asshole is bigger than all of us and is the leanest frame.

  “Paxtyn!” Presley yells, shutting the door behind her. “Did you seriously just say that? First you insult a body type and then you insult my roommate who you just met! What in God’s name is wrong with you?”

  Paxtyn pivots. “Wouldn’t have bothered you a couple of years ago. You’re getting sensitive.” She tilts her head, a bitchy smile present. “Scared you’re going to get fat when little Baker starts getting big? Where is K anyway? Maybe he’s still fun. God knows something has crawled up your ass.”

  She takes a sip of the beer, making a sour face before dismissing it. Clearly not a beer drinker. “Hand that over. You’re not drinking. You’re seventeen.”

  “You’re twenty. What’s your fucking point? Don’t act like you were a goody-goody at my age just because you married the golden boy young.”

  Konnor walks up just in time, handing me the two beers in one hand while drinking off the other. I hand one to Landon. “Paxtyn. Always a pleasure. And full of drama.”

  She smiles and places her hand over her heart. “Awe, I knew you were my favorite for a reason. Now tell your wife to chill out. I’m on vacation. There is nothing wrong with what I’m wearing in the jacuzzi. My bikinis are skimpier than this.”

  Konnor looks at Presley. “She has a point.”

  “People know the difference in a suit and underwear. That’s the point.”

  “Pres, who the hell is going to care? Landon? He’s like seven years older than her. I doubt he’s interested. Two of you are knocked up and Maddox is so far up Gabby’s ass he doesn’t even know other girls exist. Stop stressing yourself out over shit that doesn’t matter. We don’t need any pregnancy problems.”

  Not interested. Ha. He has no idea. That girl is as good as fucked if she gives him clearance. Then he’ll move on like it never happened. Presley huffs out. “Fine, but she’s going to stop insulting people. It’s rude.”

  “Presley, if your friends can’t take a little heat from a high schooler, then maybe you should find new friends. There’s an idea. You went from life of the party, queen bee of Laguna High, to this. It’s depressing. I’m going to make a Bloody Mary. I know you have the stuff. Then I’ll change into a suit since you’re overly sensitive about every damn thing. You’re acting like Mom on her period.” Something hits my arm. “Hey, lumberjack, you the one with the non-pregnant girl?”

  Landon chuckles at the nickname that couldn’t be more accurate without her actually knowing me. I look at her. “It’s Maddox. Yes.”

  “Can you go fetch her? That’s who I want to hang out with.” She stares at me for a second, before rolling her eyes dramatically. “Please.”

  But she turns around and walks off without waiting for an answer. So much for a date night.

  Twenty-Nine

  Paxtyn

  I walk down the basement stairs with my glass in hand, sipping on my Bloody Mary—my personal favorite. Awesome start to a school break, I’d say. Not. Here I was thinking this was the perfect opportunity to work on my relationship with my sister now that the ‘fantastic four’ are no longer together—her, my brother, and the Baker kids—yet still, she treats me like I’m her child instead of her younger sister. She acts like I annoy her to no end, and I gave up being with friends for this.

  I’ve always been the straggler kid, following in their shadow like a throwaway, and I’m starting to think that’ll never change, grown up or not. The older I got, the more I broke off with my friend Navy and her parents since she’s an only child, becoming like their second. I go everywhere with them. My parents never give me an ounce of grief for missing family vacations and the like. In the beginning it was just to see if they cared enough to fight me on it. They didn’t. They had their prized children in tow. I got left out before either of the Bakers’ kids did. It stung. I’ve been growing thicker skin ever since.

  A motorized noise sort of like a hairdryer comes on just before I step off the bottom step, drawing my attention to the guy with rich brown hair and gray eyes way too hot for his own good. He has a drawl to his words I’ve never heard in person before. He knows he looks good too, based on the little comment digs he’s been throwing my way since I got here.

  With an ego the size of California, he may be the perfect opportunity for me. In a couple of days, I’ll be headed back home for school—a place where keeping my reputation intact is important. Laguna High is my kingdom. No one is knocking me off my throne. Most popular, richest, and biggest bitch aren’t easy titles to earn. Every girl wants to use me for social gain and every guy wants in my pants. The biggest mystery at school is who has gotten it in. No one knows. I’m not giving all that up just so a hot guy can say he nailed the Paxtyn Dunagin one Saturday night in the back of his truck. That was Presley. I’m sick of being her shadow. She could separate sex and emotions better than anyone I’ve ever met. I’m not risking the vulnerability. It takes a lifetime to be crowned queen. It takes seconds to fall. What I need is a sexy stranger. No harm, no foul.

  I suck the vegetable and vodka goodness through my straw from the side of my mouth, coming to a stop beside him at the quickly rising air mattress. “What are you doing?”

  “Fishing,” he retorts. “What the fuck does it look like I’m doing? Would you rather sleep on the floor? Doesn’t make a damn difference to me. I have a bed. I’d offer you the sex couch, but you seem a little too clean to sleep on a mixture of cum from several different contributors.”

  I stare at him. Guys are animals. “That’s disgusting.” He goes back to blowing up the air mattress. Of course, she’s going to put me on the floor while everyone else has a warm bed. Why did I expect anything different? Sisters who are close would have just slept together if there were no more beds. All she had to do was scoot to the middle to be between me and Konnor. It’s not like I haven’t known him my entire life. With the rise of my emotions, the bitchiness will escalate. “I need to change.”

  “Then change,” he tells me. “Think I haven’t seen tits and pussy before? I doubt yours are any better than the rest. Your underwear doesn’t leave much to the imagination. I don’t know why you’re worried about it.”

  Way to make a girl feel sexy, hick. Jesus. And here I thought west coast guys with good looks could be assholes. “Never heard a guy complain about sexy underwear before.”

  “You’ve never met a guy like me,” he says simply, sealing the air into the firm mattress from where he’s squatted beside it.

  I roll my eyes and set the glass down on the stage they have down here, my hands already on my back unclasping my bra at the middle. I’m not sure why they need one of those. The floor works just as good. When each side retracts, I slide my black bra down my arms, dropping it on the mattress. I glance around me for my suitcases as I shove my black, lace cheeky panties to my feet. When I don’t see them, I turn around, my eyes instantly locking with his targeted ones as he just stands there holding sheets and a comforter. “What? I thought you’ve seen tits and pussy before,” I throw back at him slathered in sarcasm.

  “You have a g-string tan line.”

  “So . . . I tan in a g-string—my tanning panties.”

  “Isn’t that the point of tanning? To not have tan lines.”

  “Maybe I don’t want my vagina that close to where other girls’ vaginas have been. Just because I clean the bed before I get in doesn’t mean certain bacteria aren’t still living on the surface.”

  His eyes drop, making my heart jump, before quickly coming back up. “What fucking seventeen-year-old waxes?”

  I squint at him and his condescending tone. “Lots of them. Why would a girl want razor bumps and ingrown hairs and for her vag to take on a diseased look if you can afford to just have it gone within an hour and not have to do the work? It’s just
for now anyway. My mom agreed to let me have laser hair removal when I graduate.”

  He tosses the bedding on the mattress. “That’s a lot of work for one guy here and there. Planning to show it to men in number? Maybe do a little stripping? Whoring or nude dancing makes more sense than doing it for you.”

  I cock my head to the side, the smirk already growing as I make my way toward him, not stopping until my nipples are brushing his shirt. He hangs his head to look down at me. “Why do you care?”

  “I don’t. Just my observation.”

  So he’s the observing kind, huh . . . I don’t buy it. “So you think I’m a whore?”

  “The shoe fits.”

  “Well I think you’re an asshole because you have a little dick. You know, gives you a sense of balance in the world. I’m a girl that likes to play games. Wanna make a bet?”

  He smirks. “I’m listening.”

  “If only one of us is right, the winner gets the bed and the loser gets the air mattress. If we’re both right, we share the bed. If we’re both wrong, neither get it.”

  “Before I risk giving up my bed, how do you expect me to prove you aren’t. I don’t know you. Bitches lie.”

  I smile, knowing I have the upper hand. “There are ways to prove everything. You in or out, country?”

  “I’ll play.”

  I walk past him, going in search of this mysterious bed. Maybe this won’t be a shitty vacation after all. When I walk past the couch and hit the kitchenette, there is an entire large nook to the basement you can’t see until you walk to the refrigerator and look right. It’s setup with a bed, nightstand, dresser, and small desk. This is where I’m sleeping. Fuck an air mattress.

  I turn around and sit on the black comforter as he comes into the space, scooting back enough that I can pull my feet on the bed with my legs spread. Then I lean back on my palms, my long hair brushing against my arms. “See how many fingers it’ll hold. It has to slide in easily, not be forced. Only one, I win. Two, it’s a tie. Three or more, you win.”