by B. N. Toler
My mouth drops open. What a fucking skank. I hate being bitchy or catty, but I can’t help myself. Smiling pitifully at her, I say, “If I wanted him your presence wouldn’t be an issue. And if you are so good, as you say you are, why’s he letting you go? Because in the end, men don’t want skanky coke heads.”
She laughs in disbelief. I’ve one-upped her in the insult game. “You better watch your back, Char,” she warns as she steps toward me again. Sniper stands tall and watches her, wondering if she’s going to attack me.
I grin at her and as she passes by me, I say, “You look a little tense, Misty. Why don’t you go home and snort a line. Might make you feel better.”
“Charlotte!” George’s voice booms, jerking Misty’s, Sniper’s, and my gaze to his seething glare. I glare back at him. Is he mad at me? Is he defending her? His eye is still swollen, but at least it’s open now, and a deep purple surrounds it.
“Yes?” I snap back, placing my hands on my hips.
Misty smiles and continues on her way. “Bye, Charlotte,” she calls, her voice almost in a singsong tone. “George, if you need me for anything, you have my number,” she says, as she walks out.
“I believe I’d like to see you take her down, Char,” Sniper notes with a nod.
“Shut it, Sniper. Charlotte, in my office. Now!” George shouts, and I straighten my back in protest. Is this anger for me, or a symptom of withdrawals?
“I’m off the clock, boss. You can’t tell me what to do!” I stomp past him and head for the back exit, but he grabs me and yanks me in to his office. I look around, but don’t see Ike anywhere. Did he leave me?
“What the fuck was all that out there?”
“What the fuck was all this in here?” I counter. “She said you two had a good-bye fuck.” Those weren’t her exact words, but it’s definitely what she implied. “Was it good for you? To bang the woman whose boyfriend beat the shit out of you?”
“I didn’t fuck her!” he shouts. “We ended things, okay? She’s not going to work here anymore.”
“Then why’d she say it?” I ask, calmly, in an effort to rein in my anger.
George’s head rears back slightly, his anger draining from his face. Tilting his head to the side, his mouth quirks up slightly. “Are you . . . jealous?” Disbelief is rich in his voice.
My mouth clamps shut as anger and embarrassment swirl inside of me. Why am I acting like a fucking lunatic? I have no right to. I shouldn’t feel this jealousy. But, God, I am jealous. I despise Misty and hate the fact she’s ever touched him. As the realization dawns on me—that I do, in fact, want George McDermott—like want, want him—my knees go weak. Placing a hand on the desk behind me, I attempt to hold myself up without looking that way. I can’t tell George I have feelings for him. How could I? How could I admit that to him, or anyone, when I have the same feelings for Ike? I’m a fucking mess right now. I need to change the subject. “No. You asked me to stay, and you made a promise to stay clean. She’s your dealer. I’m concerned, not jealous.”
George steps toward me, closing the distance between us. My heart beats wildly as my stare remains trained on him as I refuse to look away. “Listen, Charlotte,” he whispers. “I realize you’re concerned, but you can’t make outbursts like that. All of my employees will think it’s okay to behave the same way.” My lips fall into a hard line and I stare at my feet. Damn it, he’s right. “Charlotte, please look at me,” he says, softly. When I continue to stare down, he brings his hand under my chin and cups it, tilting my head up. “With that said, I know I’m a hypocrite because I want to kiss you so bad right now. More than I’ve probably ever wanted to kiss a woman before. But I want to be clean, and I don’t want my face to look pulverized when I do it.” His confession weakens my defenses. My shoulders slouch as I succumb. I have no idea what to say so I nod once in understanding.
He removes his hand from my face and asks, “Would you let me take you somewhere?”
“What? Now?” I ask; my brows furrowed.
“Yeah. It’s a really cool place.”
“Okay.” I shrug.
George lets Sniper know we’re leaving and pulls me out the back door. Once again, he helps me into his jacked up truck and we drive. During the day Warm Springs is a bountiful abyss of color with sloping fields and round hay bales everywhere, but at night it’s the darkest place I’ve ever seen. You can’t see any of the day’s beauty here at night.
We drive just past the gazebo with the Welcome to Warm Springs sign on it, and turn down a gravel road. “Where are we?” I ask as I squint my eyes, trying to make out the building in front of us with the limited light from the truck’s headlights.
“The Jefferson Pools,” George answers as he parks in front of a round, rundown-looking building.
“There’s a pool in there?” I ask.
“Well, it’s a warm spring, hence the town name. It stays ninety-eight degrees all year round. It’s kind of what put our town on the map.” He grabs a flashlight from the glovebox then climbs out of the truck and rounds it, opening my door and helping me out. As my body slides down his, it seems as if it happens in slow motion, but every single nerve inside me is aware of it, and I love every second of it.
“So this is where Thomas Jefferson used to come to soak and rejuvenate?” I ask, remembering Ike telling me something to that effect.
“It is. You’re going to swim in water our third president swam in.”
I stop in my tracks. “We’re swimming? I didn’t bring anything to swim in, George.”
I can’t see his face, but I can hear the smile in his voice. “Looks like we’ll have to skinny-dip.”
Shaking my head, I follow him and say, “So it’s too soon to kiss me, but not too soon to see me naked?”
“I’ve already seen your ass,” he points out.
“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?” I grumble.
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget it,” he says, as if the thought gives him great satisfaction. I’m thankful it’s dark out so he can’t see my cheeks blush.
“You really expect me to skinny-dip?”
He laughs. “I won’t look, Charlotte.” He pauses. “Much,” he corrects himself. “I won’t look much.” I want to protest, but I can’t. I love this side of him; the carefree and fun George. His laugh is my drug; I need more, and I’d do almost anything to have it.
When we get to the door George pulls out his wallet, removing a credit card. “What is that for?”
“To pick the lock,” he says, casually, as he inserts the card between the door and doorjamb.
“We’re breaking in?” I hiss as my eyes dart around frantically.
“No. My debit card is the key to this place,” he jests, earning an eye roll from me he doesn’t see. “Relax,” he urges me. “I know the guy that manages this place. If we get busted, we won’t get in trouble. I promise,” he assures me. “There it is,” he cheers quietly as he pops the lock and opens the door. “Give me your hand.” In the darkness, I find his hand and he leads me inside. The smell of sulfur assaults my nostrils and I cringe, but it soon fades as I quickly become accustomed to the odor. “Stay close to the wall or you’ll fall in.”
“It’s so dark, I can’t see a damn thing,” I complain as I plaster myself to the wall.
“Well get undressed and hop in. I can’t see a thing anyway. That’s what I’m doing.”
“You’re undressing?” In the darkness, I sense him bend and hear the ruffling of clothing. He must’ve taken his shirt, underwear, and pants off.
“Done,” he answers. Then there’s the sound of a splash. “Come on, Charlotte. It feels awesome. Don’t dive in though. It’s only about four feet deep.”
Good thing he can’t see me roll my eyes. Removing all of my clothing, even my bra and panties, I prepare to hop in. “What about my cut?”
“You’ll be fine. Come on,” he encourages. I bend down and slide off the wooden floor surrounding the pool. The pool feels
like bath water and I have to admit, it feels fantastic.
“Where are you?” I wade through the water, careful to step softly as there seem to be several large rocks, when suddenly a light comes on.
“Right here,” he answers and tosses the flashlight twenty feet away from us in the water. My arms wrap around my chest as I attempt to cover myself. The water is clear, which means with the flashlight illuminating it, it’s easy to make out our very naked bodies in the water.
“George!” I shriek.
His brows rise to his hairline as he takes in the sight of me. “I didn’t think you’d get completely naked.” He’s laughing loudly, and mentally, I recant my previous sentiments about how addicted I am to his laughter.
“I wouldn’t have if I had thought you’d throw a flashlight in the water!” I snap. “Turn it off!”
He only laughs harder.
“It’s in the water. Shouldn’t it have died already?” I squawk.
“Nope.” His laughter ebbs as his dark eyes focus intently on me. “Waterproof.” The word drifts through the air, deep and throaty.
Why did the word ‘waterproof’ just sound so erotic coming out of his mouth?
In an attempt to remain focused, I ask, “Did I mention that one of the first things my brother ever taught me was how to kick a guy in the balls?”
He’s laughing again.
One of those open mouth, I can see his amazingly-white-straight-teeth laughs. Okay, I really am addicted. Damn, him.
“I hate you right now,” I say, as I fight the laughter that’s attempting to bubble up my throat and out my mouth.
“Okay, okay,” he sighs and steps toward the flashlight before sinking in the water and crying out in mock anguish. “My ankle! I can’t move! I’m sorry, Charlotte, I can’t turn off the light.”
Glaring at him, I say, “I should blacken your other eye.”
As he continues to laugh, he swims toward me, causing me to back into the deck surrounding the pool. When I can’t back away any further, I’m forced to wait until he’s just a foot before me. My arms are so tight around me, my boobs are smushed up, the tops completely on display.
George’s brown eyes are trained on me as he stands to his full height, the water’s surface meeting his hips. Keeping my gaze on his, I refuse to let myself look down and see what’s below the water’s surface. “I don’t mind if you see me naked, Charlotte.”
“Shocking,” I say, dryly. “I’m sure you don’t. You’re a guy.”
“Maybe that’s part of it,” he concedes. “But you’ve seen more of me than anyone has in a long time. All the ugly parts. Things I’m not proud of.” When he runs a hand through his hair, my eyes disobey me and move to his abs and the delicious, deep V-shape on his hips. God, they’re beautiful. My fingers itch to reach out and slide down them. Then he says, “I want to know all of you, too. The good, the bad, and the ugly.”
My heart beats wildly with his words. I know deep down this is the moment I should tell him about me, about what I can do, but I’m not ready to come clean for a multitude of reasons. One being, what if he thinks I’m a liar? Or worse, what if he hates me for keeping this secret all this time? Or even worse, what if it speeds up Ike’s crossover? God, that’s such a selfish thing to even think. Ike wants to crossover. He’s been living in limbo for months, but that selfish part of me still isn’t ready for him to go yet. Ike is the only friend I have. I can’t tell George the truth. Not yet. So I stand to my full height and let my arms drop. Standing naked in front of someone makes you vulnerable, exposed. Maybe I can’t tell him everything, but I can show him this, something I’ve never shown anyone before. I can’t breathe as George’s gaze moves down my body and back up again. His mouth is in an even line, his chest rising and falling with each breath he takes. The lighting from the flashlight in the pool illuminates his skin and hair, flickering in his eyes. Even battered and bruised, he’s beautiful.
I’ve never been completely naked in front of a man before. I was a virgin before the accident and probably would have lost my virginity to Will, the guy I had kind of been dating at the time. But the accident took that from me and being a freak that can speak to the dead for the last six years hasn’t helped my love life at all. But feeling George’s eyes on my body excites me, preventing me from being embarrassed.
“I lied to you,” George says, quietly stepping toward me again. I tilt my head. That’s not what I was expecting to hear. “I said I wouldn’t kiss you until I knew I was clean and didn’t look like a punching bag, but I can’t wait that long.”
Swallowing hard, I tilt my chin up, inviting him to give me the kiss I want so badly even though I shouldn’t. George is still recovering and this may all be symptomatic. I may only be a method to cope, and maybe later he’ll regret it. But I can’t fight it. If he wants to kiss me, I’ll let him.
One hand finds the back of my neck and he pulls me toward him. When our mouths collide, his other hand wraps around my back just above my waist and he slams me to him. As his tongue dips in to my mouth, I moan, letting my hands rest on his biceps. In the warm water I can feel his length, hard, pressing against my belly, causing a delicious ache to blossom between my legs. The kiss is fierce and bold, the two of us clinging to each other for dear life. After all, George and I are floating, desperately seeking footing so we can stay planted to the ground. Perhaps we’ll ground each other.
When George pulls away, I tremble, my body missing his warmth against it. The corner of his mouth curves slightly as his soft gaze lingers on my lips. “Thank you,” he says, quietly.
George just gave me the best first kiss I’ve ever had. Will never kissed me like this—with such intensity. I’m pretty sure it’s the best first kiss any girl has ever had. I should be thanking him. So I do. I slam my body to his and kiss him again, my want for him conveyed by the desire on my lips. My kisses tell him there’s more, so much more to me, but I’m not ready to tell him everything just yet. He groans with arousal and I kiss him harder one last time. When I pull away, I say, “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s . . . amazing.”
I stood outside the Jefferson Pools while George and Charlotte were inside. When they exited, they were holding hands, and I could feel my brother’s happiness radiating from him. He’s falling for her. My brother and I are in love with the same girl. I half laugh at the ridiculousness of this situation.
Flashing back to the motel, I wait in my chair for Charlotte to return. I won’t tell her I followed her. I don’t want her to feel like she can’t be herself around George or for her to get the creeps because I was following her.
An hour later, the door opens and she flips on the light. She jumps when she sees me, but laughs as she grabs her chest. “You’re trying to give me a heart attack, aren’t you?”
I smile and stand. “Just keeping you on your toes.”
“Where have you been?”
“You told me to give you space to work so I’ve been trying to do that.”
“Oh,” she mumbles as she tosses her bag on the floor by the bed. She climbs on the bed and yawns, her hair still damp from the water. “George took me to the Jefferson Pools. It was pretty nice.”
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I say, “I’m glad you’re getting the full Bath County experience.” When her gaze meets mine, I see the sadness and the guilt in her eyes. I know she feels bad about wanting us both, but she feels worse because she knows I can do nothing about it, no matter what.
“Will you lie down with me?” She pats the bed beside her and I want to say no, to resist, but I can’t. If this is all I can have of her for this short time, I’m going to take it, no matter how wrong it is. I lunge and jump as if I’ll land on top of her. She shrieks and laughs when I morph and end up lying beside her.
“Why does that always freak me out?”
“I don’t know,” I chuckle. Turning to face her, her gray eyes meet mine and she smiles softly. “How’d it go tonight?” I ask, even though I already know.
“Do you like him?” I ask, even though, again, I already know the answer.
Her eyes brim with tears and she turns her face into her pillow. “This is such a fucked up situation, Ike,” she says. I close my eyes, pained by all the things I am incapable of. I want to hold her and kiss her, and press my body to hers, but I can’t. None of what I feel for her matters because I can never give her what she needs. And I have to remind myself of that. I have to let her go eventually. She cares for me . . . I know it. I feel it every time she looks at me. But I’m dead. She shouldn’t feel guilty about caring for my brother, too. I have to let her know it’s okay; that I understand.
“It’s okay to like him, Charlotte,” I tell her softly. “Don’t feel bad because you . . .” Like me, too? Should I say that?
“It’s not just about you being dead, Ike. Who lets themselves fall for twin brothers? What kind of person am I to say that I love you both?”
And there it is. She loves us both. My heart twists. “If you are going to share your heart with another man other than me, I’d want it to be George.”
“If you were both alive, I’d never choose, Ike. I’d leave. I could never choose one of you over the other. I’d never want to hurt either of you.”
Smiling, I say, “I guess it’s a good thing it worked out this way. You weren’t given a choice, Charlotte. The choice is already made.”
“How do I save him, and let you go at the same time? How do I do that?” Her crying has morphed into sobs at this point, and I can’t stand watching it.
“Because you know I will be at peace. Because I can rest easy knowing the woman I love and my brother—my best friend—are happy. I’ll know you’ll both be okay.” I smile softly and add, “Charlotte, you’re my best friend, too. I’m okay with you being with George. I think you two are good for each other.” And that’s the truth, even though it hurts. She gives me a small smile but still has a worried look on her face.
