My Fate for Yours

by Steph Campbell

  Rachel

  I love Arnaud’s house, I really do—well, as much as you can love an ostentatious home that isn’t yours. I just hate taking care of it. The place hasn’t been used since his mom, Beth, was here last, and that was more than five years ago. Or right about five years, since I think she left her husband back in the city and was using the place.

  The pale yellow siding is perfect because we had it painted last year. There’s a bank account Mom uses that isn’t exactly ours, and Mom won’t give details, but I do know we don’t have to come up with the money to keep it fixed up. The wrap around porch has the same furniture it always does. I dusted it off good back in January, and I’m not about to start that process again. I sneezed about a thousand times while smacking the dust out of the outdoor pillows.

  The shutters are classic white, and the lace curtains hang in the windows. They’re probably the only thing I’d change in the farmhouse style home. Even the shutters are perfect.

  I step inside and the orange candles Mom burned last time we were here still have a lingering scent. I kick off my shoes wondering again how this place could just be left empty. Void of people to enjoy it. Parquet wood floors and a kitchen that would make a chef drool.

  Someday, this family will decide to come home and they’ll have an immaculate place just sitting here, waiting for them. Maybe when I get home I’ll go through Mom’s paperwork again and try to find an address or something. This guy seriously needs a talking to. Or a bloody nose to match Tobin’s. Just as frustration begins to boil over, I walk through the nearly empty living room onto the back porch and sit on the swing.

  One of the gutters is hanging down where it shouldn’t, so I’ll need to find some handyman who can fix it. Hopefully it’s a fix and not a replacement. Just another thing on my to-do list.

  I have a million places to be and a million more things to think about, but instead I close my eyes in the hot evening breeze and pretend this place is mine.

  ***

  “Mama, are you sure?” I ask for the millionth time. It’s one thing to crash at Carl’s for a night when I know our neighbor or her nurse will help her into bed. It’s an entirely different thing to leave for three days on purpose.

  “Rachella,” Mom says quietly. “Come sit.”

  I let out a short sigh because she only uses my full name when she’s really serious about something. “What’s up, Mama?”

  “You need this break more than anyone I know. Enjoy it. Love it. Okay?” She takes my face in her hands and kisses my cheek. “Don’t let me feel guilty that you didn’t take this chance because of your old Mama.”

  I nod before pulling in a breath and standing. “Call if you need anything, okay?”

  “Promise, baby girl. Go have fun.” Mom gives me one last wave as I step out of the house, my bag slung over my shoulder and my enormous first aid kit in my hand. One thing I’ve learned from hanging with Traive and Eamon is that the first aid kid needs to be a practical doctor’s office.

  ***

  I’m not sure what makes me do it, but I park my decrepit little Honda in front of Delia Gentry’s mansion. She’d snort if I called it a mansion in front of her—she always tried to be humble and fit in with the rest of us, even if she wasn’t much like us at all, but there’s no other word for all the homes on this street.

  Her lawn is perfectly manicured. The hedges trimmed, the flower beds weeded. All of this even though they haven’t been back since her dad was offered a Senate seat when our then current state senator stepped down. No one was surprised when he took it, but I am a little surprised she hasn’t come back at all. Not even once.

  Delia and I have hung out more times that I can count, but that doesn’t mean I know her well. She ran with our group once she and Tobin hooked up, and I’d consider her a friend, but I don’t have much in common with her. I don’t know Tobin the way I should for being so close to his brother. We all hang out, but I have Traive and Leslie and Kelly… I’m not sure why it’s different. I do wish I knew why Tobin is so devoted. Devoted almost to the point of insanity, and Eamon can’t last more than a few dates. What’s different? Same great parents. Same worn house filled with good cooking and great parents. But Eamon is his own special brand of crazy-- doing stunts Tobin would never try, but Tobin’s willing to put his heart out there in a way his brother can’t imagine doing.

  It’s stupid to be here because I’m really looking for answers about Eamon from Tobin and Delia that I don’t know how to get. Sitting in front of her house definitely won’t do it.

  And it hits me as I drive away—Delia’s family is those kind of people, too. People like Arnaud. People that live in worlds of such excess, that they have an entire extra house, being kept by someone else, waiting for their return. Who knew the problem would be so rampant in a place as small as Crawford. I hate that I think so much about money. I hate that the lack of it is ruling my thoughts lately. I’ve got to try to relax and enjoy this weekend, with the people that I wouldn’t trade for any amount of money.

  11

  Eamon

  Every part of my body hurts. Tobin and I worked all day yesterday and well into the night to keep Jerry from getting behind. I may have been able to avoid Jerry for a few days, but the rattle of his truck just stopped, and I’m still here.

  “Morning boys.” Jerry’s brow goes up as he steps in the shop.

  Tobin’s already out of his suit, but I have a few more things to clean up first. I don’t make eye contact, but Jerry stops next to where I’m sitting anyway.

  “No. I haven’t made any decisions yet. Is that okay?” I still don’t look up at him because I know turning him down would be a really stupid move.

  “‘Course.” He backs up a step before turning and heading to the office, and in the tone in that one word and the fact that he didn’t stick around to talk, I know he’s disappointed.

  Hell. I’m disappointed in myself for not jumping into this opportunity. Again I feel almost pathetic for not wanting to move forward or change my life. But dammit, I don’t want to change my life.

  “What was that about?” Tobin leans against his locker as I pull off my suit and stuff it into mine.

  I’m not sure if I’m ready to talk to Tobin about this. The boy was ready to get married not long ago. This is part of me that he doesn’t get. “What?”

  “Don’t pull that shit with me.” He slugs my shoulder.

  “You have no room to talk.” I turn to face him. “Ma was freaking out and trying not to show it, you told no one where you went.”

  “Holy shit.” Tobin smirks. “You’re trying to push this off on me, so it must be something big.”

  I scoff, grab my jacket and head for the door.

  “Let me see…” Tobin rubs his temples. “Jerry has a long lost daughter he wants you to marry.”

  I roll my eyes before jumping in my new Jeep. Damn, this thing is perfect. Worn seats, metal floor, big engine.

  Tobin’s cackling with laughter at his latest idea, and I want to punch him again, but at least he’s happy.

  “Try again.”

  “He needs a date to the ball.” Tobin laughs again.

  I let him chuckle for a moment before I interrupt. “He offered to let me buy in and be half-owner with him.”

  Tobin’s face turns serious. “Well, damn. I’d do that in a heartbeat.”

  “And this is why I didn’t want to tell you.” I hit the gas a little harder, spinning the Jeep sideways. Definitely glad I waited to replace my old truck until I found this thing.

  We’re about to pass the road to Delia’s and Tobin always gives a glance up the street. And the few times he doesn’t, I can tell he’s working at not giving in.

  “I think you should seriously consider, E,” Tobin says. “Might be sort of cool to own half that place. Jerry does damn well.”

  “I know.” Tobin can’t tell me anything I don’t know.

  “I’d think that buying into Jerry’s would actually give you more
freedom. You’ll be working there anyway. It’s one easy way to settle without actually settling.” He smirks.

  “I said I’m thinking on it.” Right now I’m smiling because Tobin didn’t glance or react when we passed Delia’s. It feels like a big step forward.

  Tobin slumps in his seat. “I know I just got back, but I can’t wait to get out of here for the weekend.”

  I know exactly how he feels; only the second he talks about getting out of here, I think about getting out of here with Rachel.

  ***

  Rachel gives Kelly a wave as she drives off, and her smile is as big as I thought it’d be, and prettier than I imagined as she tosses her small duffel into the back of the Jeep. She sets in what looks like a tackle box, but I don’t think she’s that into fishing. Anyway, she doesn’t even have a pole.

  “What all’s in here?” She leans over the back, and all I see is the gentle curve under her ass that her tiny shorts don’t quite cover, and how her tank has ridden up to expose the slope of her back. Her hair falling around her bare shoulders makes me wonder how much it would cover if she didn’t have a shirt on.

  I slide my finger across the top of her skin, just over her ass when she turns to give me a raised eyebrow.

  “Really, Eamon?”

  I just laugh because it’s all I can think of to do. “So, wakeboards here.” I point to the two boards on the roof rack. “Bungee stuff in this bin.” I slap the top of the bin.

  “Parachute?” She gives me another raised brow as she points to my chute bag.

  “You just never know.” I grin.

  “You do have a first aid kit, right?”

  “I left that to you, doll. Don’t tell me you let me down.” This time my hand reaches out to touch her bicep. Strong, but not huge. Just…impressive, and like I wouldn’t want to fuck with her, or I might end up with a bruised nose like Tobin did. “You’ve been learning how to play doctor, right?”

  I don’t even know where this is coming from because this is never how I’ve been around Rachel, but now… I can’t stop. Hell, I don’t want to stop.

  “My ‘doctor’ case is in the back.” She pauses long enough that the mood changes. “What’s going on?” She’s trying to maintain her smile, but it’s cracking a little because her question was serious.

  Before giving my answer any thought, I pull her to me and let us fall in the grass together. We land just how I was hoping. Me on my back and her straddling me.

  She leans forward, her hazel eyes confused and rests a hand on either side of my shoulders.

  I have a perfect view down her shirt and her thighs on each side of me…the daylight between…I blink and in my mind she’s naked, and I’m…

  I’m fourteen and Rachel is thirteen.

  We’re both standing on the dock, shivering in the midnight breeze.

  “No. You first.” She points at me again.

  What she didn’t realize was that I could already see everything through her bra and panties, but it didn’t change the fact that I wanted to see more--even if it was just my friend, Rachel. A girl is a girl, and her tits had grown a lot that year. And to be honest, I was scared as hell and trying not to show it.

  “Fine.” I slid off my boxers. “But remember everything shrinks up in the cold.”

  I winked as I stood and I expected her to blush or jump in without re-paying the favor. She stared at every inch of me with her ultra-observant Rachel-stare. We were just damn curious kids, and I’d been making out with Marcy after school figuring she was my best chances of catching up to Traive who was rounding the bases with Leslie pretty damn fast.

  I guessed that the more girls I saw naked, the less of a mystery they’d be, and the better I’d do with Marcy. I damn near lost my breath when she unsnapped her bra and let it fall to the dock. The last thing I needed was a hard-on in full view of my friend.

  Her panties slid down next and she pushed out a breath. “This is supposed to make me less scared later, right?”

  I swallowed hard as I stared at all of her the way she’d just stared at me. I was about to lose the battle of wills with a certain part of my anatomy so I just grinned before running toward the end of the dock. “That’s the idea! Now jump in before you chicken out!”

  As Rachel’s naked, thirteen-year-old body hits the water, I snap back to the present, Rachel sitting on me, my hard-on pressing against my jeans because there’s no point in even trying to be relaxed with Rachel sitting on me. Her face is confused, and it reminds me that she was trying to ask me something when my mind drifted off.

  “What…” But she doesn’t finish.

  “I tripped.” I smirk. “And then I tried to use you for balance, but you apparently aren’t to be trusted.”

  She snorts and rolls her eyes, but then pulls her features in. “I need a serious answer, Eamon. What’s going on between us?”

  Something so big passes from her eyes to mine that I hold my breath for a second before answering because she does need something real.

  “I don’t know. I just… I don’t know. I feel like I don’t know how to be around you and not want to touch you.” I rest my hands on the exposed strip of skin around her waist remembering the torture it was to stand on that dock in front of her naked body, knowing she wouldn’t let me near her. My fingers have a mind of their own, tracing and touching, wanting to feel as much as I can while I can.

  She licks her bottom lip and whether she means it to be sexy or not, this time, it absolutely is. I can think of a lot of places I’d like her mouth.

  “I know how you and girls work, E.” Her forehead wrinkles up as she frowns.

  I don’t say anything because we both know it’s true, that girls and I...we don’t work. Which is why this…whatever this is with Rachel is confusing the hell out of me. Rachel’s helped me get rid of more than one girl that couldn’t take a hint. Not that I’d ever let someone think they were getting more than a night or a weekend, but some ladies still thought they’d be different. I don’t know what Rachel is.

  “What do you want from me?” For the first time in a long time, Rachel’s voice sounds distant and unsure.

  “I don’t know.” At least that’s honest. If that’s the only thing I can give her, at least it’s something.

  “I think... I think I can give you a weekend, Eamon. Maybe we could just start there. Maybe we both need it. Maybe we both need to let loose a little, and then we can move on...from whatever this is. Do you think we can be friends after that?” She leans back, but I hold her sides, keeping her on top of me.

  “Yeah. We’ve survived…other stuff.” I cringe again as I think about her admission.

  “I’ve loved you since I can remember.” She held her breath like I was about to run away, and I she knows me damn well because I seriously was. At least she was a few drinks into her night, and hopefully she would forget about all of this by the time she woke up in the morning. But, she didn’t and neither did I. “It’s always been you. I just…I can’t imagine my life without you in it, and I keep hoping you’re ready for more…”

  I pull myself back into the present because she’s watching me and if she stares long enough, she’ll know just where my head was. And dammit, I don’t want her to guess that I was thinking about that night that nearly killed our friendship, and how we’re about to dive headfirst back into the same damn territory.

  “Okay. One weekend, get each other out of our systems, and next week, we’re back to you and me. Friends. Done. Okay?” Her voice has the fierce determination I’ve always liked in her.

  “Does that mean I can kiss you now?” I start to pull her toward me, the tension of wanting her winding me up tighter than I’ve been in a long time.

  “Maybe.” She leans back, but I follow and slowly sit up.

  Her legs are around my waist and all I can think is how much I want her now. Before our weekend, behind my garage in the grass. Fucking anywhere after all the teasing we’ve done.

  “Does that mean you’
ll kiss me back?”

  “Try me.”

  I grab her hips, tighten my stomach and pull her to me. There’s nothing careful about the way I kiss her because I want her too much. And damn she’s just as strong as I knew she would be. Pressing herself into me as I hold her tighter. This is going to be one fucking incredible weekend.

  12

  Rachel

  Eamon’s hands pull at my hips, and instead of moving away, I’m rocking against him and threading my fingers through his hair in a desperate attempt to get closer.

  He slides my tank up, and I stretch my hands up for him to pull it off, which he does in one quick movement. His mouth trails down my neck and across my collarbone sending shivers through me despite the heat. His thumbs slide along the bottom of my bra as I reach for his shirt, and inside I’m screaming, holy shit, I’m about to have sex with Eamon LeJeune. And then I have a stupid thought that’s so glad I’m not in my stupid sports bra again.

  The second his shirt hits the ground his phone rings. I start to reach for the phone, but Eamon holds me still. I tense in a kind of need to be closer I don’t think I’ve ever felt before.

  Eamon pauses only for a moment before he starts sliding his lips across my chest, along the top edge of my bra, and all I can do is tighten my legs around him, trying to feel some satisfaction from the pressure of us together as his phone continues to ring in the grass.

  And then my phone rings.

  “Fuck, people.” Eamon sighs, laughing a little.

  I try to pull in a breath, but my body’s still wound up tight. I slide out my phone and flash it to him: TOBIN.

  Eamon flops back in the grass and I slide off his lap because any more fooling around without release and I’ll go insane.

  “I really, really am going to need to finish what we started here.” He chuckles as he softly my sides, running his hands over my chest, along the top of my shorts. “Soon.”

  I pull in a deep a breath as I can. “Call your stupid brother, and let’s get out of here.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He grabs my shirt and stuffs it into his back pocket. “But I’ll be keeping this. You look way too good to be covered up.”