Finding Fate

by Charisse Spiers

  He doesn’t look at me, already entering the parking garage and making the circle up, following the path until an empty space comes into view. He quickly pulls in and shifts to park, killing the headlights. Everything is dark in the truck but the controls and displays. There is a subtle scent of cologne permanently embedded in the cab like it’s sprayed often, and if I had to guess, I’d say Maddox keeps a bottle in the center console. “It’s timed parking there,” he says.

  “That’s because it’s meant to be a drop off, which is kind of the point—to drop me off so I can check in. Come on. Take me back around so I don’t have to walk in the dark and you can go back to the house and go to sleep. It’s late. This is why I was just going to take an Uber.”

  He reaches in the cup holder and grabs his phone, not acknowledging anything I say as he unlocks it and navigates around the screen, which is pissing me off. I hate to be ignored. No one does it at school. I’m one of the few with that privilege.

  I grab my purse and pull my USB cord out of the port, annoyed. “Guess I’ll walk in the dark then,” I mumble, placing my hand on the handle to open it. It’s locked still from the automatic locks when he started driving. I hit the unlock button, but they lock right back.

  I look at him. He’s holding out his phone for me. “Chill the fuck out. I’ll take you when I’m done with you,” he says, his tone sounding agitated. “Put your number in my phone.”

  The screen is already in the contacts app, a new entry pulled up and waiting. My eyes rise to his. “That’s not necessary, country. I don’t really want to give my number out to people that don’t intend to use it. No hard feelings just because you know my sister. This was just sex. I’m fine with it. If I was going to whine about keeping it casual come time to leave, I wouldn’t have slid down your dick to begin with.”

  He temporarily closes his eyes and blows out air. “Are you done bitching yet? I wouldn’t have told you to put it in if I didn’t want it. I may decide I want a weekend fuck with tight pussy and summon you.”

  I bite back a smile, my stomach tightening with nerves. “I may not want you to have it.”

  “I swear to God I’m about to shove a cock in your mouth if you don’t shut up and stop acting like a high school girl.”

  I roll my eyes and snatch the phone out of his hand, already keying my details. “I am a high school girl, dumbass.”

  He changes the music setting since I took my phone out and rock starts to play as I finish adding my number. A text banner comes through at the top, drawing my eyes as I was about to hit save.

  Trinity: Are you home yet?

  Who is Trinity? Shit, did I even ask if he was single before we hooked up? I rack my brain but can’t remember. Real smart, Paxtyn. I glance up at him, my thumb hovering over the save option. “Uh, before I save this, is Trinity your girlfriend?”

  He starts laughing, but I have no idea why that’s funny. I’m freaking out! I’m fine with being a weekend fling kind of fuck, or a friend with benefits even, but I do not want to be that girl. God, if I gave my virginity to someone in a relationship I’m going to feel like an idiot. I half-expected for him to defensively take his phone like any other cheater would do, but he doesn’t. “Fuck no. Trinity is a married whore that I met at a bar drunk who thinks I’m an idiot she can lie to when her husband is gone. If she texted me, she’s looking for dick.”

  “Uh . . .” Slut. I don’t know why that irks me. We are not a thing. Wait, what am I thinking? I slept with him hours after we met. That would sort of be hypocritical of me. I suppose for a weekend I was a slutty slut too. Would he lie? I don’t mind meeting up for casual sex here and there if he wants. I’m definitely not going to be doing it with guys back home. I consider how good sex actually felt. Okay, I may not have sex with any guys back home, but I do like honesty.

  His laughter has died out but he’s still smiling. What the fuck? How does he go from silent to this over this topic of conversation? “Go read the messages. I don’t give a shit. I delete nothing.”

  I hit save and shove his phone back. “I’m not reading your messages.”

  He grabs it and looks down, tapping a few places, before handing it back. “Do I sound like the type of guy that would be in a relationship?”

  I grab the phone back and scroll up. The time stamp on the last message is the day I arrived. My brows rise as I read his responses, looking at him seconds later. “I’d slap the shit out of you if you said those things to me.”

  He grins wider. What is going on?! “Which is why you’re still occupying my time.”

  “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “I’m not bored yet.”

  Which is why I need to go. Leave a little mystery in my wake. Maybe then my number will actually get used. If I were being honest about that little tug in my chest, I might even miss him a little. “Well, are you ready to drop me off now? You have my number. The ball is in your court. Text it, trash it, whatever. It’s been fun. Back to the high school grind for me until Thanksgiving break.”

  I lean over to give him a bye hug and suddenly I’m being pulled over the console like a lightweight item, my purse and phone crashing to the floorboard before my knees hit the seat, barely any room on each side of him. He jerks his shirt off and tosses it on the console. “No. I want one for the road,” he says, pulling my cap off and down my ponytail. “You look hot in a ball cap.”

  My stomach flutters with nerves from the compliment while his hands rub up my sides as he bares my stomach to take my shirt off. He has a roughness to his hands I’ve never felt from a guy. My skin pebbles beneath them. I like it.

  Our lips meet, and the second we’re sealed together at the mouth everything becomes hormonal. My bra comes off. In under a second he’s got his hands on my breasts, kneading and massaging with plenty left over. I still find it odd how I can touch my own boobs like that and feel nothing, yet he can do it and my panties instantly become wet.

  I pull at his lip, my acrylic nails raking across his shoulders, the cab already filling with expanding heat and the windows are starting to fog. “What if airport security rides by? Pretty sure this is illegal in some way. At least public indecency.”

  His mouth comes down on mine again, his tongue delving inside me. He pulls back and I hear his zipper. That is the hottest sound and I have no idea why. He reaches back and grabs one hand, lowering it to form a cuff around his dick since his size keeps my fingers from meeting by a good bit, his hand on top of mine while he starts to stroke himself with my hand. “Then there’s the fact that you’re only seventeen. I’m twenty-four,” he adds, his other hand already gripped on the back of my neck and pulling me in.

  “Makes things more fun,” I tell him, just before our lips meet again. Out of all the guys I’ve kissed, he does it the best. I don’t know if it’s his age or his experience or just the combination of us together, but we glide together so effortlessly, creating an experience that leaves me panting and wanting more each time one of us pulls away.

  It doesn’t take long of him guiding my hand in an up and down motion before I catch on to how he likes it—firm and fast. His hand pulls off of mine, leaving me to stroke him myself, and without breaking from the kiss both come to my lower back and push underneath the waistband of my leggings, each gripping a handful of cheek, his short nails digging in.

  Feeling so much hardness as my hand pumps up and down on it makes me want it inside me more than anything, causing me to rub my center against him, needing friction between my legs. A throaty moan comes out of me as I kiss and rub on him. He squeezes my plush bottom, as if he likes the handfuls, and finally pulls back, breathing heavy. “Turn around.”

  Thankfully he has long legs and the seat is already back, allowing me more room between him and the steering wheel to do so. Putting both feet on the floor I turn around. He jerks my tight pants over my bottom to my knees, baring me for access and already pulling me back by the waist. I grab the door and the console for balance, and withi
n seconds and a few swipes of his head against me to wet the tip he’s sinking inside. It’s a full feeling that I’ve come to like.

  I’m not sure how I’m supposed to easily do this with my leggings keeping my legs mostly together, but I push off the doorframe and the console so that I’m not flush with his thighs, and then use my stomach muscles to do the rest.

  One hand goes for a breast while the other glides down my front, making sure to brush over my belly button ring, lingering as his fingers play with it, which is something he has done every time we’ve had sex, as if he likes the aquamarine stones on each end of the bar in the white gold setting. I don’t change it out often, but when I do, I buy quality rings and keep them in my jewelry armoire just like the rest of my jewelry. So far, this color against my tan skin is my favorite.

  He continues downward until his finger pad is pressing between my lips, instantly circling over my clit. My head falls back against his shoulder, eyes closed, my pelvis trying to chase it for closeness. It feels too good with him inside me.

  He turns his head toward me some, his lips grazing over my cheek. He’s roughhousing with my chest, both nipples erect and taking turns getting pulled between his fingers. “That pussy of yours is going to miss this, isn’t it?”

  I love the way he talks when his breathing is labored, confirming he’s not as put together on the inside when we do this as he appears on the outside. “No more than your dick will. Deny it all you want. You like that you’re my first, don’t you?”

  “I never denied it.”

  My heart races over his admission. My arms are starting to get tired from being in one position with weight on them, but I’m so close to getting off I don’t want to move and lose it. He speeds up, and within seconds my eyes close as all the blood pools in a central place and the stimulation blissfully numbs me for many moments, making me hyper aware of everything. “Shit. This feels so much better when you do it.”

  The feeling fades and there is no resting phase before his hand moves from between my legs to the opposite hip, getting a good grip, and then he starts bouncing me on top of him as fast as he can. “I like watching you come,” he says, his voice thicker than usual. “Now you’re going to make me.”

  I twist and grab the back of his neck, turning my head back to lock my lips with his, both of us panting and not able to hold back the many sounds coming from somewhere deep as my bottom slaps against his lap. He bucks upward and holds it, his mouth opening on a deep rumbling groan and interrupting the little dance our lips were doing. “Fuck it feels good to nut in warmth.”

  He lowers back down to the seat and wraps around me like a bear. It’s nice to be held this way. “Your new thing I’m guessing?”

  He roughly pulls back on my ponytail over the loaded question, causing it to pull at my roots and hurt. “Ouch.”

  “That’s a me and you thing, not a me and some slut thing. I got your virginity and you got me bare and loaded—an exchange of firsts. It was only fair.”

  And now we have to say goodbye. It’s a chilling thought in the middle of so much heat. The sooner I get it over with the faster I can put it behind me in my vault of damn good memories.

  He’s so close like this, like we’ve both set down the masks we wear for other people. This truck feels like a safe space, where we can be different without someone’s prying eyes judging us. We can be real. I look in his eyes. “I really need to go before I end up missing my flight.”

  Instead of saying something back, he starts working my pants back up my legs, and when they hit my upper thighs, he holds me off him to pull them to my waist. I turn around and straddle him as I finish dressing. His pants are already pulled up to their normal position and refastened. “What do you want me to tell Presley?”

  I shrug, trying to prepare for a lie, but something overcomes me, and for once in my life I just want to be truthful. He doesn’t know me back home. “I don’t care as long as it hurts her like she’s hurt me.”

  And without acknowledging his stare, I move back to the passenger side to gather my things. Oddly, I feel a little lighter. Too bad it won’t last.

  Landon

  I open the back passenger side door at the drop off and pull out her suitcase as she gets out of the truck, setting it down on the sidewalk. Things get a little awkward, just like I thought they would, because we’re lost somewhere between a couple and a one-night stand, and I honestly can’t remember a time that I’ve been here.

  I’ve always been on the cocky side. Among one of the popular ones in school, I was also an athlete. Then there was music. I guess I was sort of a Jack of all trades. I preferred to change things up or I got bored. In junior high and the beginning of high school, I dated girls, and the sex followed once I started down that road. After all the drama in my family, I wasn’t interested in girls but I still liked sex. What guy doesn’t? I didn’t have much to do with them if they weren’t interested in just hooking up for fun. It spiraled from there.

  One part of me is ready to get back to my normal, but the other part isn’t ready for her to go. She pulls up the handle of her suitcase as she glances at her watch, and then looks up at me from beneath the bill of her cap. She’s fixed just like she was when we left the house, her long blonde ponytail hanging over her shoulder from the back. “I’m gonna go. This was fun. If you’re ever in California look me up.”

  I nod, keeping to myself that the thought has crossed my mind and she’s not even gone yet. She starts to walk off toward the automatic doors, rolling her suitcase beside her. I watch her retreating backside, everything around me already feeling stale. I knew I shouldn’t have . . . I shake my head. I’m going to regret this. “Paxtyn.”

  She stops and turns around, my legs already moving toward her. When I get close, I wrap my arms around her shoulders, pulling her in for a bye hug. After a second or so, she circles hers around my waist, her cheek pressed against my chest. She smells good. Looks phenomenal. “What’s this for?”

  It comes out before I can stop it. “You’re lightning, girl. The beauty is in the danger. Even though the hit could kill you, you still find yourself looking up. Don’t let anyone steal your thunder. You’re a bigger threat when it’s present.”

  She glances up, something unfamiliar in her eyes, and then she kisses me, quickly pulling away. She smiles. “I’ll always remember you, Miami. You got through my armor.”

  When she makes it through the automatic doors, I shout, “It’s Scott,” remembering I’m notorious for being vague about myself, such as the fact that I like to stalk her on social media without her knowing. No way am I giving that secret away. I’m opening a door for her. She looks back. “My last name. It’s Scott, but if you’re going to call me anything else, I like country.”

  She grins at me, mentally knocking me back. “Landon Scott. It suits you. Country does too. Drive safe, k?”

  I nod, and in what seems like a blink, she’s gone.

  Thirty-Five

  Maddox

  “Where is your head at?” I ask Landon as he shoves clean clothes into his duffle bag, getting ready to head to the airport. He thinks no one can tell he’s different since Paxtyn left in the middle of the night, but I can. Even when Riggan was strung out on drugs and gone all the damn time it was still me and him. He’s back to his normal, moody, quiet self since he woke up today. The temporary guy he was letting out in very short bursts—like when Konnor mentioned him talking more—was the old Landon. The guy he was before everything went to shit in his household.

  “Where it always is before I have to go back to work,” he says, being short. Typical Landon. Keeps everything but superficial shit buried deep.

  “You know what I mean. What about Paxtyn?”

  “What about her?” He moves around, checking the room for any of his stuff he might have missed. When he pulls the comforter up to check the bed, he grabs something, and as soon as he realizes what it is, he shoves it into his jeans pocket like he doesn’t want me to see it. Too late.
He looks at me, no expression present. “She’s just a girl I fucked.”

  I smile. I’m not a fucking idiot. “Is that why you’re keeping her panties as a token of her visit instead of throwing them in the trash?”

  His jaw hardens. “I’m not going to talk about it. You’re wasting your breath.”

  He still didn’t throw them away . . . which is what I would have done had he called me out. I take a deep breath. “We’re your friends, Landon. We’d never roll on you. We used to talk about important stuff, and not just band stuff. Why do you have Rig and me locked out? Do you know how many nights I’ve sat on your porch and told you stuff I didn’t want to tell anyone? That’s what friends do. They confide in each other even when it’s hard. They give you another perspective to problems. What are you so afraid of? That you’ll screw up your playboy reputation if you have real feelings for a girl?”

  It feels like he’s drilling a hole in my head. “Let’s pretend I do have feelings for her—I don’t. What do you propose I do? She lives in California. I live in Mississippi six months a year and on a rig the other six. Lately I’ve been here working on band shit. She’s still in high school, Maddox, and I’m not talking halfway through her senior year kind of shit. She’s a fucking junior. She has an entire year left once this one is over. I’m not wasting my time on a long-distance relationship. They never work. Trust or not, you can’t keep an eye on each other that far apart. If she wasn’t having sex before, she will be now. You and me both know once a girl gets a taste of dick she doesn’t stop. Then there is the age garbage. It wouldn’t be two high schoolers sneaking around like you and Gabby back then. I’m a grown-ass man. You think a girl’s parents are going to be okay with that? I’m too old to justify sneaking around when there are plenty of girls closer to my age that will spread their legs for a good time and then get out of my way. Just doesn’t seem worth it to me.”