Sweet Sixteen

by Brenda Rothert

  Thinking about her is making me hard, and I can’t hide that well with this damn red robe on, so I shift my thoughts to our vacation.

  “Are you all packed yet?” I ask her as she drives us to my parents’ house.

  She laughs. “Not even close. How about you?”

  “Just about.”

  “Are you still crazy excited about tonight?”

  This time, it’s me who laughs. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

  “You’re nervous.”

  “A little,” I admit. “But mostly just wound tight. You’re my fantasy, you know? I hope it’s as good for you as I know it will be for me.”

  She pats my knee, bringing back my hard-on. “I have no doubt, babe.”

  I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “Is it bad that I never want you to be with another guy? Ever?”

  Gin glances at me and smiles. “No. I don’t want you to be with anyone else ever again either.”

  “You’re the only one I want.”

  After a deep breath, she says, “Then let’s go enjoy these graduation parties so we can get to tonight.”

  I squeeze her hand, ready not just for tonight, but more. Gin saw me at my worst in the past. She knows I’m trying to make amends be a better man now. I know the best is yet to come, not just for me, but for us.

  Epilogue

  Gin

  Five Years Later

  Morning sunlight streams into the bedroom, and I know without even looking at the clock that this is the time I’d normally be waking up.

  I’d be showering, drying my hair, and then eating a sesame seed bagel with avocado on my way out the door to Morris Carver Middle School. And then I’d spend my day teaching kids how to draw, paint, and sculpt, while also answering questions about everything from where pimples come from to why my hair is red.

  I’m a middle school art teacher. I didn’t see that coming. But at NYU, I discovered that while I love art and acting, my true passion is teaching. So now, a sprawling middle school is like a second home to me.

  But not today. Not for the next three months, actually. I’m officially on summer break.

  I burrow under the covers and wrap myself around Chase’s warm, hard body, making a low, humming sound of satisfaction.

  He kisses my forehead, then my cheeks, then my nose. I still think I could go back to sleep, until I feel his lips on my neck. I shiver, breaking out in goose bumps as I become as warm on the inside as I am on the outside.

  “Mmm, Chase.” I thread my fingers into his short golden blond hair.

  “You’re awake,” he says softly against my skin. “Good.”

  “Uh-huh. Because who wants to sleep in on the first day of summer break?”

  “Not us.” There’s a smile in his deep voice. “Hey, look around.”

  He pulls the covers down from my face, and I open my eyes. I gasp and cover my mouth with a hand when I see.

  Our bedroom is filled with pink carnations. The dresser, shelves, and side tables are all lined with vases of them. There must be fifty dozen flowers in here.

  “Chase.” I turn to my husband. “What the...?”

  “Happy anniversary, babe.”

  I kiss him, not caring about morning breath. One year ago today, we exchanged wedding vows in the backyard of my mom’s house. I knew we’d go to dinner tonight and exchange gifts, but I wasn’t expecting anything like this.

  “When did you do this?” I ask him.

  “After you fell asleep last night.”

  I look at the carnations surrounding us again. “It’s amazing. Thank you.” I launch myself at him, and he laughs softly as I wrap myself around him.

  “You deserve ten thousand carnations for putting up with me,” he says with a smile.

  “At least.” I put my hands on his cheeks and kiss him. “But this will do. And you’re not so bad, Matthews.”

  Chase is everything I ever wanted and so much more. Seattle drafted him, so that’s where we live now. He gets busy during the season, but he always makes time for date nights. When he’s out of town for a game and I can’t go because of work, he has dinner delivered to our apartment to make sure I get a good meal. Of course, he takes credit for cooking that night, and I let him, because I take credit for cooking on taco night, and that’s not actually much work.

  “I don’t know how we got through living apart for four years,” he says, running his fingertips down my cheek.

  “Me either,” I murmur, his blue eyes as mesmerizing to me now as they were when I lusted after him from afar growing up.

  “You’re all mine this month.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  He runs the tip of his thumb over my lips, and I close my eyes. I love every moment we have together, but waking up together is my favorite. In New York, I missed him so much, it was a physical ache sometimes. We FaceTimed and spent as many weekends together as we could, but it never felt like enough. Our lives were in separate places.

  We made it, though. It was during a summer visit home to Roper between our sophomore and junior years that Chase proposed to me on a quiet summer night at the football stadium. He told me the Sweet Sixteen will always be full of dark memories for him, except for the way it brought us together.

  He was sheepish about only having a simple silver band—the best he could afford at the time—but that band was and is perfect. It’s all I wear to this day to symbolize our marriage.

  Even now, we live beneath our means. We have a nice, modern apartment that lets in as much light as the rainy Seattle weather will allow, but it’s nothing fancy. It’s June, which we’ve been looking forward to all year, and we’re road-tripping with Chase’s sisters and then spending a week alone in Hawaii. His parents are still together, and we see them briefly on holidays, but it’s always awkward and uncomfortable. It hurts Chase that his mother didn’t take his offer to move her into her own place. We hold out hope that maybe someday she’ll want better for herself.

  Chase likes to save money. We’re focused on that and putting his sisters through school. For us, a splurge is dinner at a really nice restaurant or a new piece of furniture. Some of Chase’s teammates run through their money buying jewelry and cars, but that’s not us.

  We’re still two kids from Roper in some ways. And time and distance have shown me that Roper, while imperfect, isn’t as bad as I thought. They’ve come a long way since banishing the Sweet Sixteen.

  We keep up on things at Roper High School since Alyssa goes there. At least, she did until graduating last month. The school administration implemented a mandatory class for freshmen on sexual health, with a strong emphasis on consent.

  “So what now?” I ask Chase playfully. “Should we go out for breakfast?”

  He narrows his eyes and grabs my ass. “Food? You’re thinking about food right now?”

  “You know me—always hungry.”

  His next kiss is deeper and longer. “Always hungry, huh? What can I do to satisfy you?”

  I run my hands over his shoulders and arms, the ridges of hard muscle warm beneath my fingers. I’ve never wanted another man; it’s always been Chase for me. Even when I thought he’d never notice me. Even when I scornfully rejected him. Even when I was surrounded by other guys in New York. He’ll always be my one and only.

  “You know what I like, babe,” I murmur against his neck.

  He trails his hand up my outer thigh, his fingertips skimming beneath the seam of my panties. Within minutes, we’re celebrating our anniversary with early morning lovemaking I’ll be thinking of all day long. Hands fist sheets and moans fill the room.

  My husband incites my desire like nothing else ever has. If we’re together, I want to be close to him, whether we’re in bed or just watching a movie. His touch is my comfort and my undoing; he’s the only one who can both soothe me and set me aflame with need.

  I don’t know if it will always be like this. I can’t imagine staying this deeply in love for our entire lives. We had
ups and downs in college—there was even one time we talked about breaking up.

  We couldn’t do it, though. Losing Chase would have devastated me. On our wedding day, we promised to stay true to each other through whatever life brings our way.

  That’s the beauty of all-in love. It’s having someone you know will be there for the bad times. When you’re ugly crying and being irrational. Anyone can stay through the sexy, fun parts.

  But Chase has always loved me most when I’m the most unlovable. He’s my other half. Somehow, that rose that represented everything I hate ended up bringing me together with the man I love so deeply it hurts sometimes.

  Some days, our love is the velvety, brilliantly colored petals of a rose. Other days, it’s the piercing, ugly thorns.

  I’ll take both, though. I couldn’t appreciate the petals if not for the thorns.

  About the Author

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for reading Sweet Sixteen! This book was a different turn for me and I loved writing it. If you’re inclined to write a review, I’d appreciate it so much.

  You can discover my other books and find my social media links at www.brendarothert.com.

  Acknowledgments

  This book started to take shape in my head more than a year ago. Though I started writing it immediately, I needed time for the characters and story to evolve in my mind before I was able to finish.

  Chase and Gin mean a great deal to me. Chase, because he admits his wrongs and tries to atone for them. And Gin, just for being Gin. There’s more of me in Gin than in any heroine I’ve ever written. That feeling of being different, apart from the crowd, was something I struggled with at her age, too.

  My amazing bookish tribe helped with this book in more ways than I can put into words, but words are required here, so I’ll have to do my best.

  KP Simmon and Rachel VanDyken each took time to sit down with me at RT 2017 and talk over this story idea I had. Both times, I felt nervous about putting the Sweet Sixteen concept into words. Would they look at me in horror? Tell me this is about the least romantic idea they’ve ever heard?

  They did not. Both of them were enthusiastic and supportive. And to get that kind of feedback from women I admire, well, that meant the world to me. Both of them had lots of people vying for their attention, but they both carved out some time for me. That meant a great deal.

  I wouldn’t have finished this book on time—or possibly at all—without my beta reading team. Janett Gomez, Lisa Kuhne, Chelle Northcutt, Chantal Gemperle and Lizette Diaz—thank you. Thank you for reading the chapters fast when I was churning them out and waiting patiently when I wasn’t. Chelle’s messages about how she hated this book yet couldn’t stop reading it were food for my artistic soul. And Lisa helped me with the blurb at a time when I needed her most. Janett’s reactions to the pivotal chapters in the story encouraged me to write the ones after. You five gave me the fuel I needed to finish this story, just by reading it and cheering me on. So much love to you all.

  Design Goddess Regina Wamba made the cover for Sweet Sixteen. With almost nothing to work with, she discovered my vision for this story. It wasn’t quick or easy, but she didn’t care about those things. She just wanted it to be perfect for me. The cover of this book is everything I hoped for and more.

  Karen Hulseman read this story when it was being posted one chapter at a time on a startup reading app last year. It wasn’t convenient and it left her hanging every time, but she did it, and she talked about the book, to support me. BIG HUGS, Karen.

  My publicist Jessica Estep provided encouragement and organization when I needed them most. And Michelle New helped make my promo materials shine with her teaser wizardry.

  Editors Lisa Hollett and Taylor Bellitto whipped this book into shape. They busted me on all my mistakes and helped me smooth out the rocky bits. Lisa also sat down with me at RT 2017 to discuss the book, and she helped me talk out my plot plan. And both Lisa and Taylor worked on my crazy schedule, which they may be used to doing but still puts them at rock star status for me.

  My author bestie Stephanie Reid helped me with plotting on this book, providing a crucial turn that benefitted the story greatly. She is and always will be my plot whisperer.

  My other author bestie Chelle Bliss formatted the book for me when I found myself in a time crunch. She’s pretty much the best in every possible way.

  And finally, thanks to Dan Hopkins for patiently answering all my football questions. There were many, and some were dumb, but he drew pictures when needed.