Taboo Series Book 1 & 2 Bundle

by Roxy Queen

  “It’s not a big deal,” I say, snatching it back and palming it.

  “Who gave it to you?”

  “No one, okay? Just drop it.”

  “I read what it says. That’s a personal message. Do you have a boyfriend? Are you engaged? Did you cheat on him with Carter?”

  I don’t reply and that’s enough to confirm something for her. She shakes her head and says, “You’ve been a lot of things in your life but never a cheater. What the hell is going on with you?”

  I run to the kitchen, away from my sister and right into Carter’s massive body. “We need to talk,” he says.

  “Not now.”

  “What the hell, Ruthie, stop shutting me out. This is getting idiotic.”

  I drag him into the laundry room off the kitchen and shut the door. “Did you just call me an idiot.”

  He runs his hands through his hair and says, “Yeah. I guess I did. I’m just really frustrated with all this.”

  “Yeah, well, so am I! Everything is falling apart around me and it’s all just one giant clusterfuck.” Tears well in my eyes and I blink them back.

  “Babe, it’s time to come clean.”

  “No!” I shout. He steps back, hurt. I take a breath. “No, not now. Not in the middle of all this. I just…I don’t know how I feel about everything right now. It’s too much. Being here is confusing me and I don’t know what I want.”

  He reaches for me and I slump into his arms. Tara bursts in. “Holy shit. Not again.”

  “Tara, listen,” Carter starts.

  “Unless you can tell me something about that ring Ruthie’s wearing, I really don’t want to hear it, Carter.”

  “Okay then,” he says. “What do you want to know?”

  “What? You know about it? Who gave it to her?” She asks these questions with a firm tone of betrayal.

  “Carter,” I warn.

  He picks up my hand and pries the ring out of my palm. “I gave it to her. This morning. And she accepted it.”

  “Holy shit,” Tara says.

  “It’s not an engagement ring. But I am committed to her. And I pray every day that she’s committed back to me, but,” he shakes his head. “I just don’t know if she is.”

  “Not now,” I say again.

  “Yes, now,” he argues. “Ruthie, you make this too hard. It’s always too hard. We’ve been doing this for years. Even when it’s easy between us, things get complicated and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  I look away. It’s too painful to face him.

  To my surprise he holds up the ring. “When you’re ready, you can have it back. But not until then. Not until you’re ready to accept this—and me. You know I love you. But I’m not willing to hide this anymore.”

  He kisses me, deeply enough to make my knees weak and leaves the room. The tears I’ve been holding back roll down my cheeks. “Ruthie?” Tara says. “Is all that true?”

  “Shut up,” I say.

  “Did he say years?”

  I nod and take a gulping breath.

  My big sister does what she’s done before, what she’s good at. She takes me in her arms and holds me so I don’t fall.

  *

  I excuse myself from the party and hide upstairs. Tara says she’ll cover for me, telling my parents and anyone that asks that I feel sick. I don’t know where Carter went or what he’s doing now. All I want is for him to be with me. For all of this to go away.

  The house finally quiets and I brace myself when I hear the knock on my door. I hope it’s Carter. I fear it’s Maddie or worse, my mom. Instead, Tara opens the door and says, “Let’s talk.”

  “Let’s not.”

  She’s in pink plaid flannel bottoms and a UNC shirt. She sits at the end of my bed despite the fact I’ve made it clear I’d rather not talk about any of this. “Tell me what’s going on. I’m completely confused.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I’ve got time. Sean got plastered at the party and won’t wake up until noon. He’s snoring like a freaking freight train. I want no part of that. Spill.”

  So I tell her. About how I was in a funk from breaking off with Jamie. How I met Carter when he lifeguarded at the pool and I was there nannying. How he was the most beautiful man-boy I’d ever seen. “I stalked him a little, and we became friendly, and then I seduced him.”

  “You actually seduced him.”

  “Yes, I pranced around the pool deck in my bikini and flirted with him for weeks. The sexual tension between us turned into something outrageous.” My cheeks heat in memory. “I kissed him and then we met for a date and I told him what I wanted. To school him about sex. Everything about it. That he could do whatever he wanted to with me and chalk it up to one crazy summer and in return I got to experience a couple of months in the hands of Carter Hightower.”

  Tara’s jaw drops. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. I fucked him good and proper, Tara. Like anywhere and everywhere two people can do it. He’s got stamina and drive and man, he learns fast.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. It was intense.”

  “So this was two years ago?”

  “Eighteen months.”

  She leans back on her hands. “And how did he end up here for the holidays?”

  “I broke up with him after that summer—like we agreed, even though neither of us wanted to. I fell for him, but he’s nine years younger. He was a freshman in college. What we had done was barely legal.” I take a deep breath. “After a couple of months apart we ran into each other at school and developed a friendship. No sex. Until…”

  “Until you had sex.”

  “He’s like a hit of crack. Straight to my vagina,” I confess. “A skilled, big cocked, oral sex giving, hit of crack.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  I laugh. “You’ve seen him shirtless. Do you think your vagina would want to turn that away once it had a taste?”

  She frowns and then admits, “No.”

  “So we started back up. But for real this time and we didn’t hide it. Not at school, at least. But then when we decided to come here I got scared. I thought Dad would lose his shit and Mom would have a heart attack. What would the neighbors think? Or the ladies at church? Or God forbid the Junior League, who already thinks I’m a fuck up that can’t keep a man, finds out. What if they thought I had to rob the cradle to find someone who wants to be with me? And even then it only works when we’re in this little protective bubble that consists mostly of just my bed.”

  Tara holds up a hand. “Whoa, what the hell is that all about? Bitter much?”

  “It’s true. Everyone thinks I’m a screw up.”

  “No we don’t, Ruthie, and I think it’s pretty obvious Carter doesn’t.”

  “Not fair.”

  “Well, you aren’t being fair to anyone. Mom and Dad. Carter. Dude, that kid has it bad for you. He basically asked you to marry him.”

  “But he’s a kid,” I say wiping my eyes. “That’s the catch. He doesn’t know what he wants.”

  “Why, because he’s nineteen?”

  “Duh.”

  “I knew at nineteen I wanted to be with Sean for the rest of my life.”

  “That’s different,” I argue.

  “How?”

  “You weren’t nine years apart. You had things in common—similar goals and were at the same stage in life. Neither of you would regret the other later.”

  “We had those things but we also were just really comfortable with one another. From what you’re saying I don’t think we ever had that kind of passion.”

  “Lust.”

  “You call it lust. I call it passion. The thing people seek their entire lives,” she says. “Even so, do you really think that about him? That he would regret you?” She moves closer and takes my hands in hers.

  A tear escapes and rolls down my cheek. I wipe it away. “Definitely.”

  “Then Carter’s right. This is your problem and not his. You’re an inc
redible person. So talented and free-spirited. I envy you. I only wish I had the guts to go after something—someone like that. But what I don’t envy is the fact you’re willing to let him go because you’re scared. For some reason your self-worth is in the shitter and until you figure it out you probably should leave him alone.”

  We sit quietly with one another until I say, “When you put it that way it seems really dumb.”

  “It should, because you’re acting like a fucking idiot.”

  “I know.” I sigh and pull the covers to my waist. Exhausted and ready for this day to be over. “I am an idiot. I love him.”

  “Then fight for him.”

  “I’ll talk to him tomorrow. See if we can salvage this. Maybe it was just too soon—too fast. That ring…”

  “You’re gun shy with marriage. I think we all get this. But Carter isn’t Jamie. Even I can tell that and I’ve only known him for a couple of days.”

  “I guess.”

  “Maybe you should come clean to Mom and Dad while you’re at it.”

  The thought terrifies me. “Maybe.”

  Tara stands and kisses me on the top of the head. “Go to bed, baby sister. Everything will look better in the morning.”

  She flips off the light on her way out of the room and I lay against my pillow, wrapping my arms around the stuffed bear. She sticks her head back in. “I should have known Josh wouldn’t come home with a guy like that. I guess you’re not the only idiot in the house.”

  I throw the stuffed bear across the room but she moves too fast and it hits the closed door.

  Chapter 9

  The good news is that I wake up feeling a thousand times better. I was being stupid, I get that now and hiding our relationship has been childish. Carter and I deserve better than this and we’re both worth being accepted, and screw them if they don’t.

  This is the pep talk I give myself going down the stairs. I slap on a brave face and enter the kitchen renewed. Unfortunately, when I get downstairs everyone is in the kitchen except Carter. I’m ready to talk to my Mom and Dad but not before I talk to him and there’s no way to casually ask about him. Not with the stink-eye Maddie’s giving me from across the kitchen.

  “So you guys are leaving today?” I ask Tara. She’s buttering a piece of toast and flipping through a shopping flyer. We’ve never been the type of family to hit the post holiday sales, but it’s hard not to look.

  “Around noon,” she says.

  “Mom, do you have any plans today?”

  “I told the ladies at the church I’d help them take down the poinsettias in the sanctuary and deliver them to the nursing home. Your father is meeting Hank in an hour for golf.”

  “Okay,” I say. “I was hoping to talk to you both before I go.”

  My mother frowns. “Is anything wrong?”

  “No, not exactly. Just wanted to talk about some stuff with you.”

  I skirt past her to the coffee and pour myself a mug. That’s when I see the piece of paper clipped to my keys that are hanging from the corkboard on the wall. My name is scrawled across the front in familiar, messy, boy hand writing. I walk over and take the note out of the key ring and step into the laundry room.

  Ruth,

  Sorry about yesterday. About the ring and about the fight. I apologize for telling your sister about us. I know that’s not how you wanted to do it. I called a fraternity brother in town and he picked me up early this morning. I’ll see you back to school after the New Year. Maybe once we’ve both cooled off, we can work this out.

  Love you,

  Carter

  I read the letter twice before crumpling it in my hand. I walk back in the kitchen and toss it in the garbage. Tara looks up at me and mouths, “What?” I shake my head. I’ll fix this. I’m going to fix it. There’s no way I’m prepared to lose Carter over something so stupid.

  “Um, Mom do you think we can have that talk real quick before Pop goes to the golf course?” I glance around the room. “Alone?”

  “Of course, dear.” Worry lines cross her forehead. I’ve said these words before. She’s wondering how big my screw up is that I let it wait until after Christmas. “Let me get your father.”

  I wait for them in my father’s study, spinning around in a leather desk chair, still in my pajamas. When they come in I see Pop is already dressed for golf in green pants and a red sweater. Mom looks ready for lunch with her friends. They sit in the two chairs across from me and wait expectantly, identical fear etched in their expressions.

  “First of all,” I say, taking a steadying breath. “School is fine. My grades are pretty good. I’ve got money. My car is running well and basically life is going great.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Mom says, although the lines on her forehead do not fade. “We’re proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”

  My father goes straight for the point. “Ruthie, tell us what this is all about.”

  “I have a boyfriend.”

  That announcement erases my mother’s harsh forehead lines. “Oh! Well, that’s not so serious is it?” she asks. “In fact it’s wonderful news!”

  “Well, there’s more.” I wrap my arms around my knees, but then lower them because I’m not twelve and I need to get over myself. I take a deep, steadying breath and declare, “I’m dating Carter. Carter is my boyfriend.”

  “Carter?” my father asks. “Josh’s friend?”

  “Yes. Carter is my boyfriend, not Josh’s friend.”

  Pop looks at my mother for help. “I’m confused.”

  “Carter and I have known one other for about eighteen months. We’ve been dating for most of that.”

  My parent’s expression went from concerned to befuddled. The lines are back. My mother speaks first. “Carter is so…”

  “Young. I know.”

  “I was going to say, handsome.”

  Pop nods and adds, “Motivated? He’s a very dedicated and accomplished, young man.”

  “He’s nineteen.”

  “Is he?” Pop asks. Lord. Has he gone senile?

  My mother leans forward and says, “Ruthie, Carter is a lovely person. Why did you hide this from us?”

  “He’s nine years younger than me,” I say. “I thought you wouldn’t approve.”

  Again they look dumbfounded. My father shrugs and says, “When did you ever care what we thought about things like this?”

  “Um…always?”

  “Honey, you’ve always marched to the beat of your own drum. When you set your eye on something you made it happen, even if that something wasn’t a good idea.”

  “Like Jamie,” my father says. He makes a horrible face. What? He hated Jamie? What’s going on here?

  My mother says, “He’s self-absorbed and pretentious. We were both glad that ended before the wedding and not after.”

  “Wait…what?” This is news to me. “Why didn’t you ever say something?”

  “We both knew Jamie was a disaster, but we learned a long time ago to keep our opinions to ourselves. Normally you do the complete opposite of what we suggest.”

  Oh, right. Well, yes, that was completely true. “You hated him?”

  “No, we didn’t hate Jamie, but we knew he wasn’t a good fit for you.”

  “So you don’t have a problem with me dating Carter?”

  “He’s really a lovely young man,” Mom says. My father nods in agreement. “Is he at the gym? I haven’t seen him this morning.”

  “Uh, well,” I scratch the back of my neck. “He left early this morning.”

  My father narrows his eyes. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing! Ugh, something. I can fix it though,” I promise. “Things just got a little tense. I shouldn’t have lied about our relationship.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” Pop says. “Carter seems like an upstanding young man, even if he is a democrat.”

  Mom stands and reaches for me. She pulls me into a tight hug. “Ruthie, relationships can survive almost anything if you
’re truthful and honest. Go talk to him.”

  “I will.”

  I will.

  *

  “Hey, Mads.” I stand in the bathroom doorway while she packs her things. “Can we talk?”

  “About what?”

  “About what you saw—the other day—with me and Carter?”

  She tosses hair products in a travel bag. “What’s there to talk about?”

  “I want to apologize for you seeing that and just kind of explain.”

  “Carter’s hot. You wanted to hit it. No explanation needed.” She shrugs.

  “I didn’t want to ’hit it’,” I say, weighing my words. “Carter is my boyfriend and we’ve been dating for a long time. It wasn’t a one-time thing.”

  Maddie makes a face and says, “TMI.”

  I sigh. “Okay, I know you don’t care but I hate that you think I’m such a mess-up. I’ve tried really hard to get my life straightened out and honestly? Carter is one of the best parts.” I give her a smile, but get nothing in return but silence. “I love you girl, and if you ever need me for anything let me know.”

  She takes out her mascara wand and swipes it across her eyelashes. “Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay.”

  I grab my bags and leave the room. Hopefully my conversation with Carter goes over better than this.

  *

  I leave Charlotte that afternoon for the beach. There’s no reason to go home, even though without Carter I’m going to be the loneliest, saddest, most awkward third wheel, ever. I only hope that Carter gets my messages and knows I’m sorry. Really, really sorry.

  I’m thirty minutes from the beach house when I start to regret some of the messages. It may have been a little overkill. Okay, a lot overkill. There are 27 desperate messages on his phone. Fifteen texts and eight emails.

  Zero replies.

  I can only say I’m sorry so many ways. So many times.

  I glance at the phone lying in the passenger seat. “No more messages,” I tell myself. “Don’t do it.”

  I drive two more miles before picking up the phone and pressing the icon by his name. It sends me straight to voice mail and I waver, considering not leaving one, but what the hell? What’s one more message at this point?