by Mj Fields
She shrugs. “Been in longer relation—”
“And one week over a few years isn’t a relationship? We’re being cordial; don’t fuck it up. End of.”
“Fine, no more talk about mine. Tell me how many you’ve been with.”
I laugh. “Not fucking happening.”
“I’ve been talking a lot with Tris. She hates Marcello with the burning passion.”
“He fucked up.”
“They’re young. And yes, I believe they truly loved each other in a way first loves should love one another. And their paths changed, and one of them hurt the other. And maybe they didn’t really mean to, but something happened and …” She shakes her head. “I hurt you, Justice.”
“Don’t.”
“I want you to know that I get it, that I’m sorry. Truly. But maybe something changed in me and—”
“Gabrielle, if you think I’m hung up on you, you’re wrong.”
“I think you want to hurt me in the way I hurt you. I just want you to know that is so cliché, common, dirty, and cruel. But mostly, just cruel.”
“Okay, great talk. Now see your ass—”
“I loved you once. And I thought you did, too. And you think I let you down. Well, I thought you did, too. I thought you were done with me when you didn’t show up.”
Instead of being pissed, I’m fucking numb.
She smiles at the ceiling. “Found out yesterday you were a shitty driver and failed two road tests.” She looks over at me. “Maybe that’s why you never came to take me on that date you promised you would all those times we talked about how we’d see each other more when you had your license.”
I look out the window, avoiding her eyes. “Wasn’t a shitty driver. They thought I was aggressive. I told them the correct term—”
“Was defensive.” She giggles softly. “I heard.”
“I’m sure you heard a lot today. Did they drag out baby pictures?”
“Yeah, you were adorable.”
“Still am.” I smirk.
“Alas, you’re not the boy who looks at me like I’m the sun and treats me like a queen.”
I look at her, remembering the words Nina threw at her.
She shrugs and looks back at the ceiling. “You’re the anti-him. Your cool and calming nature is destroyed. You’re covered in ink, you have the manners of a thug, you swear too much, and talk too little.” She smiles. “You’re not my Justice, and I’m not your Queen.”
“Exactly,” I agree, expecting it to piss her off.
She smiles and shakes her head. “You’re not anything I ever dreamed of you becoming, but I won’t lie here and deny that there is nothing hotter than a pissed-off, bossy, brutish, arrogant as hell JT Steel.” She rolls to her side and looks at me. Then she closes her eyes, bites her lower lip, and sighs as she rolls onto her back. “You’re every girl’s, who ever wanted to piss her parents off, wildest dream.”
“Guessing you’re that girl who wants to piss off her parents?”
She smiles. “You know how badly you wanted to make me hurt?”
“Wanted?” I scoff.
She grins. Fucking grins! “Hold that thought. But yeah, I want them to be as angry as I am at them.”
“You don’t wanna get yourself torn in two. That’s pretty harsh.”
“Don’t pretend to know what I want from you. You don’t know me anymore, either.”
“Don’t pretend I won’t fuck you harder—”
“I want all your anger, your rage, your hurt, and your pain, Justice.” She pushes herself up to stand. “And I want a promise that, when we graduate, we shake hands, wish each other well, and go on about our lives, never ever thinking of our first loves as the people we’ve been since November.”
“You think you were my first love?” I mock.
“If I say I know I am, will you threaten to do something deliciously dirty to me?”
“Jesus, Gabrielle, will you listen to yourself?”
She shrugs. “What’s wrong with wanting a man to take charge instead of having to—”
“Cut the shit,” I sneer, not wanting to hear anymore about her fucking him.
“If I don’t, what will you do to me?”
“You’re under the wrong roof to be a cock tease, Gabrielle.”
She steps closer, leans in, grabs my hard as fuck dick, and squeezes it as she whispers, “I love the way you hate me.”
“You sure you know what you’re asking for?” I grab her paw and squeeze it around my cock tighter.
“Mmhmm.”
“Good.” I push her tainted paw away. “Now get the fuck out.”
She smiles at me, and fuck if I don’t smile back.
She steps, turns, and walks to my door, pausing there. “Justice?”
“Queenie, get the fuck out of here.”
“Just wanted you to know that you are, by far, the most aggressive driver I’ve ever met.”
“Out. Now.” I toss a throw pillow at her, and she laughs as she leaves my room.
“Fuck,” I sigh out as I flop back, pull my blanket out from under the covers, and drop it on my face.
Showered
Gabrielle
Sitting in Justice’s vehicle, staring out the window, after a very uncomfortable five hours at the baby shower of the first Steel crew—Kiki, who I showed my ass to, and Seashore, and her older sister, Bella—I repeat one more time, hoping he’ll listen, “I wanna go home tonight.”
“You keep saying that, and I’m gonna record my response. Not happening until the guys start tomorrow.”
“I have things I need to do,” I say, trying not to be too bitchy since he stayed right by my side today, and although not huggy and kissy like all the rest of the couples—real couples—he did what Justice does—makes me eat and makes me feel safe.
When he starts laughing, I groan, “Enough already.”
“Queenie, that shit’s sticking. Gonna go down as one of the most hilarious moments at any family function.”
“Well, if not remembered by my epic blow job on school lunch break, please do remember the time I walked into a baby shower of two girls who rightfully hate me—”
“They don’t hate you.”
“Remember the whole honesty spiel you gave me? How about you try to do the same in return?”
“Fine. But straight up, they don’t hate you. Brand thinks you’re a direct descendant of Satan, but I’m guessing, after today, he sees you as a human with flaws. Hell, even Momma Joe gave you one and a half thumbs-up and an A for effort.”
“Jase mentioned Momma bears, poppa bears, and cubs at a baseball game. How was I supposed to know your whole family loves the Yankees?”
Again, he laughs at me, and I tell him, “Take me home.”
“Jesus, Queenie, it was kind of fucking adorable. You tried.”
“And failed,” I remind him, but kind of hang on to the fact he just called me adorable.
“So, next time, you try harder. You don’t bury your damn head in the sand; you fucking fight, Gabs, and you do it over and over again.”
“And now I’m Gabs.”
“I was JT today a few times, so yeah, Gabs, you are.”
I sink down in the seat and look out the window.
He reaches over and messes up my hair. “Chin the hell up.”
I bat his hand away. “I’ll order the same thing in Yankees, and I’ll bring it to them with an apology.”
“Not necessary. But if it will make you feel better, then do it.”
“If it will make them not hate me for the next year—”
“They don’t hate you. And if they did—which again, they don’t—you apologized. Not much else you can do, so stop beating yourself up, babe.”
I look at him, and he looks at me, both shocked at his use of babe.
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant.” I turn and look out the window. “Boo.”
“Don’t start that shit,” he says harshly, but there’s amuseme
nt in his voice.
When we get back to his place, it’s raining. I like the rain in the daytime. It lulls me to sleep. Another reason I want to go home.
“We better run,” Justice says, opening his door and jumping out.
I don’t. I adjust the seat so that it’s all the way down, close my eyes, and listen to the rain ping off the roof. Peace.
It lasts all of two minutes before the door opens.
“Queenie, nobody is going to bust on you. Come on.”
“I really just like the sound of the rain.”
I open my eyes as he scoops me up.
“Dammit, JT!” I yell.
“What did you call me?” He laughs.
“Not boo!” I yell as the rain begins falling harder. I try to wiggle free as he tightens his grip. “Okay, uncle! Just put me down or take me inside.”
“I thought you liked the rain, Queenie,” he says, still not moving any closer to the house.
“I like the sound!” I yell over the rumbling thunder.
“You gotta be willing to take it all.”
“Is that supposed to be sexual?”
“Jesus, Queenie, I was talking the good and the bad.” He laughs. “You got a problem.”
“My biggest problem is six-foot-plus of everything that could take my mind off the little ones I want to escape.”
“You tell me your problems, I’ll think about it.”
“You don’t need to think about it. You’ve been thinking about it for as long as I have.”
I let go of his shoulders and grab his face, pulling him closer to me. I can’t read his expression with the rain pouring down, clouding my vision and making it impossible to see the way he looks at me, the way no one else ever has or ever will. Then my lips hit the side of his head, and he scrapes his teeth down the side of my throat before licking up, soothing the sting. He uses his teeth to pull on my earlobe as my feet touch the ground and he runs his hand up my waist, cupping my breast through my dress and pinching my nipple hard. Whimpering, my head falls back, and I feel his growl vibrate against my now heated flesh as he pushes my breast up while licking down my neck until he stalls, and I feel him bite down on the swell of my breast.
The sound of a horn causes us both to jump. Then he pulls me tighter against him and turns us so his back is facing the vehicle as lights blind me and the vehicle comes to a screeching halt in front of us.
I look up at him and see his nostrils flaring, his jaw clenched tightly.
The engine dies, and then I hear Cyrus say, “You two know it’s raining?”
“Yeah,” we both say at the same time.
Then he asks, “You hungry, Justice?”
Justice whispers, “Fuck.”
“Cyrus,” Tara scolds softly.
“Birdie, he was about to eat her fucking neck.”
I look up and smile at Justice.
When I see an umbrella above my head, I look over as Cyrus hands Justice the handle.
“You teach Justice how to drive?” I ask him.
“You bet your drenched ass I did. Now, you two, inside.”
When I hear the door shut, I start laughing.
Justice releases me and steps back, shaking his head. “Let’s go in.”
I grab his hand and pull him back.
He turns and looks down at me.
“You only gonna kiss me at school, huh?”
He shrugs.
“You wouldn’t give your lips if mine were the last to kiss on the planet, except when we’re in school. You wouldn’t give me your tongue if it would save you from dying of dehydration. We can work around that.”
“Shut up, Queenie.”
“You wouldn’t give me a finger to ride on, but you’ll buy me sex toys.” I shrug, “And as we know, they work. You wouldn’t give me a ride if I were walking down I-95, buck-ass naked, in the dead of winter. I can assure you, I wouldn’t be—”
“You think you’re cute, huh?” He scowls.
“I did once, but I recently learned I was adorable.”
“Come on, Queenie; it’s still raining, and your little nips are just about poking through that adorable fucking dress.”
“You don’t like the shoes?” I ask, trying to keep up with his long strides.
When we walk in the house, Cyrus is standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at us, eyebrow raised. “I was under the impression this was a week old.”
“Cyrus, leave them alone.” Tara laughs from behind him.
“Justice, this thing a week old?” he asks.
“Something like that,” Justice answers.
“You not getting enough to eat at the party that you need to try to eat Gabs’ neck?”
“Cyrus,” Tara says louder.
“You know I can always eat,” Justice smarts back.
“You hear that, Gabs?” Cyrus asks.
I smile. “Sure did.”
Cyrus’s eyes pop out a bit, and Justice looks down at me, a bit shocked.
I kick off my shoes then look up at Cyrus. “Any tiramisu left?”
“Yep,” Tara answers for him.
“I’m gonna go change then. Be right back.”
With my belly full of tiramisu, which I never had until last night after a true family meal, sitting on the sofa, I pretend to watch the news with Cyrus but pay more attention to Tara and Justice. They are playing chess at the small table, too small for Justice, sitting in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking the ocean, which is slowly beginning to disappear as the sun goes down.
My house is oceanfront but is much farther back from the water than theirs. It’s much farther away from other homes, people; detached from everything and everyone, even seemed that way when my parents and my brother lived in it.
It’s beautiful, the way they seem to know each other’s next move.
“What do you say, Gabs?” Cyrus says, drawing my attention from a mother and son doing what mothers and their children should do.
“About?”
He pushes up off his section of the couch. “Something to eat?”
“Heck no.” I laugh.
He winks then looks at Justice and Tara. “Hungry?”
“Stop distracting me, Dad. I’m three moves from taking her king.”
“Eggplant sandwich?” Cyrus asks, walking to the kitchen.
“Stop trying to run defense for your wife. This is chess, not football,” Justice says, not looking away from the board.
“How many are in the fridge, Birdie?” he asks.
“Six. Enough for everyone’s lunches tomorrow.”
“Not after I tear into them.” He smirks, opening the refrigerator.
I hear Truth laugh as she walks through the door, and Tobias chuckles.
“Eggplant sandwiches, if you two are interested,” Cyrus calls down to them.
“Not funny, Dad,” Justice calls to him. “Truth, remember, we’re twins.”
She hurries over to the couch and plops down next to me. “I will never get enough of them.”
“They’re adorable,” I say, watching Justice glance over and smirk at my word choice.
“How many do you want? I want four.” She grins.
“Four?” Tobias asks.
“Yeah, when we’re like twenty-eight.” She looks back at me. “How many?”
“Honestly never thought about it.”
“I bet you’re afraid to say, because you think it’ll freak Justice out. You probably want like ten or something.”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not. One, maybe two, but when I’m forty, and that’s still a maybe.”
“Why?” She laughs.
“Because I don’t want to screw them up.”
Everyone in the room laughs, including me. Well, everyone except Justice.
Thursday Night
Justice
“I kind of miss having her around,” Truth says, flopping down on my bed. “You?”
“Why, because Dad spent less time hovering over you when
she was?” I ask.
“That was a bonus, yeah, but she just kind of fit, you know?”
“You get that she and I aren’t you and Tobias, right? We’re going in different directions after high school,” I repeat the phrase she apparently told Momma Joe when I was in the city.
“So are Tobias and I—”
“You’re applying to college in New York City, and he is going to Columbia, which is in New York City, T; that’s kind of the same exact direction.”
“Different schools, though. You and Gabrielle could do the same, you know. Stay together and—”
I point out the obvious. “She and I are nothing like you and Tobias.”
“And she’s nothing like she was when we started here. Tobias confirmed what I already know—she no longer feels threatened that we’re going to mess with her lifestyle. And honestly, Justice, I’m not thinking she loves what she was so vehemently trying to protect.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, wanting to know what she sees.
She shrugs. “She just seems happier around us. And once you stop looking at her like you want to either kill her or nail her—”
“I don’t look at her like I want to fuck her, Truth. If I wanted to, I would.”
“High school is for fucking, though, right?” she asks mockingly.
“Not girls like her.”
“Oh, please, like you haven’t—”
“Not even the tip.”
“Gross.” She laughs.
“How about you and I do what you and I do in situations like this?”
“Situations like this?”
“I don’t ask you why you get home half an hour later on dance nights than you normally would, and you don’t ask me who I’m fucking around with.”
Lying back, she snickers. “Deal.”
“Good chat. I’m tired, so—”
“You sure you don’t want her to come to Italy?”
“T, I’m fucking one hundred percent.”
“I know you, Justice. Your little summer trysts aren’t going to happen when you have a girlfriend.”
Summer trysts? I laugh to myself. But ask, “You sure about that?”
“That’s cheating. How would you feel if, while we were in Italy, she was fucking around—”
