Sticks & Stones

by Rachael Brownell

  Once she realizes I’ve been lying to her, omitting information, she’s going to be pissed. Just like Ireland, I took the decision away from her. Would I be here if she knew who I really was? Would she want to be on my arm tonight if I told her the truth? I doubt it.

  Taking a step back to give her space, Reese visually relaxes, her shoulders slumping forward. She has yet to break eye contact, and I’m afraid to be the first to look away. I’m losing her. Truthfully, she’s never really been mine, but now? I’m not sure she ever will be.

  “I need to get my nails done,” she finally manages to squeak out as she slips around me.

  “Okay. Did you want to eat first? Your food is probably cold already, but the coffee is still hot.”

  “I’m not that hungry anymore.”

  A lie. Simple. Small. It was still a lie. I’m getting better at detecting when she’s lying. Her voice goes up a notch. It’s slight, but noticeable.

  Watching as she shoves her phone in her purse and pulls it high on her shoulder, I try to think of something to keep her from walking out the door. Do I confess everything? Tell her how I feel about her? Will any of that make her stay, or will it make her want to run even farther from me?

  I’m still staring at where she was standing when the door closes behind me.

  Flopping backward onto the bed, I stare at the ceiling and process the last twenty-four hours of my life. Her father recognized me but didn’t tell her. We talked for a while, and she finally opened up to me. Not because she had to or because she was paying me. It was an open and honest conversation.

  When I first woke up this morning, she was wrapped in my arms. The warmth of her body close to mine lulled me back to sleep before I was able to enjoy the feeling. The next time I woke up, she was gone. My heart knew she hadn’t gone far, but my head had me freaking out until she tapped on the door.

  Now, she’s gone again. This time, I’m certain I scared her off. She never mentioned a nail appointment. In fact, she originally talked about showing me the city this afternoon. I guess those plans are off.

  Sitting up, I feel the urgent need to get out of the room. Throwing on a fresh t-shirt, I snag a ball cap from my bag and my sunglasses. The mask will cover my face tonight, but right now I’m going to have to go incognito.

  Walking the streets of downtown Indianapolis brings back memories. We didn’t come down here often, but when we did, it was always a family affair. I feel awful for not calling my parents to let them know I’m in town, but I knew better. They would have wanted to see me. In fact, my mother would have insisted and sought me out until I made time for them.

  Everywhere I turn, there’s a memory from my childhood. As I come to an intersection, I can see the football stadium up ahead. Getting my bearings, I try to remember which way I need to turn to head toward the zoo. That would be a great way to spend my afternoon. It would be better with Reese by my side, but I obviously can’t tell her it was my favorite place to visit when I was a kid. I can’t tell her that I begged my parents to buy an annual membership for the entire family so we could go every weekend.

  One day, I’ll tell her. Today is not that day. Tomorrow is not going to be the day either. It will come, eventually, and when the day does finally arrive and the time feels right, I’ll tell her everything. Until then, I’ll live the lie of a life she thinks I lead.

  Turning back toward the hotel, I pause outside my mother’s favorite boutique. She dragged me through that store more than I care to remember in search of her next great find. Sometimes it was a purse, other times a scarf. Most of the time, she didn’t buy anything, saying nothing struck her fancy. That never stopped her from going back for another visit.

  Staring at my reflection in the window, I see a version of myself that I’ve grown to hate. Not only because of all the lying I’ve done lately, but because of the failure I’ve become. I set my sights high when I left here. I was going to make something of myself, and I did. I also threw it all away because my ego got the best of me.

  There’s one other thing I see in the reflection. A sign. Looking over my shoulder, I smile at myself. It’ll be the little details that people notice tonight. This is one thing Reese didn’t think of. No worries. I’ve got this covered.

  A little over an hour later, I’m headed back toward the hotel. I stop off to grab lunch, my recent purchase weighing heavy on my mind and my heart. Sitting inside the deli, I eat in silence, staring out the window, people watching. At first, I find myself searching the crowded sidewalks for families that are down here to explore like mine used to do.

  After a while, I start looking for familiar faces. If I stay here long enough, I’m bound to run into someone who knows me. Someone I don’t want to see because I’m not supposed to be here right now. Slipping my sunglasses back into place, I drop my trash in the can by the door and walk, head down, picking up the pace as the hotel comes into view.

  Keeping my eyes focused on the floor, I make a beeline for the elevator bank and pray no one in the lobby pays me any attention. There are small groups of people fanned out across the large open area. I’m sure some of them are here for the reunion. That’s my worry. My need to scan the crowds and search for faces that I know, is great, but I resist the urge.

  It’s for the best. We’ll all be in the same room later on. Not that I’ll be playing catch-up with anyone.

  Slipping into the elevator without any problems, I’m thankful for the fact it’s empty. Lifting my head, I stretch and crack my neck. The next time I leave the room, my mask needs to be in place. I’m bound to be discovered if I keep taking chances.

  Reese isn’t in the room when I get back. Looking up at the clock, it’s a little after one o’clock. I expected she would be back by now. The reunion starts in five hours, and she’ll need time to get ready. I should do the same.

  Jumping in the shower, I wash away all thoughts of my childhood. That’s not who I am today. I can’t be focused on those kinds of memories if I’m going to play my part. Hunter. Hunter Drake. That’s my persona. I may not love who I am when I’m him, but I need to accept it.

  Tomorrow I can go back to being Tyler. Tyler is a good person. He’s someone who once stood up for others. He has values and morals. He would never knowingly deceive another person like Hunter is doing right now. No matter how much she is paying him.

  Jane can fall in love with Tyler.

  Let’s hope she does.

  My frustrations get the best of me and I pound my fist against the tile. I don’t like this. I don’t like the person I’ve become. No one should. It makes me feel as low as all the Tiffanie’s in the world. I’m using Jane to get ahead in life, to get what I want.

  What do I want, though?

  I knew at one point, and now I feel lost. She’s changed me. For the better, but at the same time, I’m not sure who I am anymore. I’d like to think there’s still a part of me that’s worth loving.

  The one thing I know for sure is that I don’t want to be who I am right now. I don’t want to be Hunter Drake. I don’t want to be an escort. Something good has to come of this. I’ll never forgive myself for taking this job if she gets hurt.

  As I’m reaching for a towel, I notice the blood. The back of my left hand is covered in a watered-down red liquid, and now that I’m not distracted by my own thoughts, my hand is throbbing. I must have hit the tile harder than I thought. Wiping it away, it begins to pool between my pointer and middle fingers again so I hold the towel against it the best I can and apply pressure.

  This is not what I need right now.

  Drying off quickly, I wrap the towel around my waist and a smaller towel around my hand. Peeking into the room for Jane, the coast is clear, so I make my way over to my bag and pull out a fresh pair of jeans and pick up my shirt from the floor. The only thing I’m not finding is a clean pair of boxers.

  Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. I hate wearing them and only do it when I think it’s necessary. Today, I figured it would be. Apparent
ly, I wasn’t thinking about that when I packed because as much as I search, I don’t think I’m going to find a pair.

  Slipping my jeans on, I’m about to button them up when I hear the lock beep. Without thinking, I turn around, and my eyes meet Jane’s. She steps into the room, allowing the door to close behind her, but doesn’t move any closer. It takes me a minute to realize why. When her eyes drift from mine, I see what’s caught her attention.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, zipping up my pants quickly.

  “You forgot something,” she quickly retorts, taking a few steps in my direction, her attention focused on my jeans.

  Knowing she’s staring at me turns me on. Before I can stop myself, I’ve takne two steps and we’re now chest to chest. Mine is bare, and I wish hers was, too. Being this close to her has my heart racing and my mind going blank. Her. I want her. Right now. This very moment. I don’t want to wait any longer. If she’ll have me, I want her right now. I’ll deal with the repercussions of the truth later.

  “Underwear,” she states plainly when I don’t say anything after a few seconds.

  “I don’t have any,” I whisper.

  “Why is that?”

  “Didn’t pack any.”

  “That’s unfortunate.”

  Why are we talking about this? What am I waiting for?

  Placing my hands on either side of her face, I lift her head until her eyes meet mine again. I search for her permission. When I find it, I close the last bit of distance between us and devour her mouth.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Reese

  Underwear. So what if he’s not wearing any. Lots of people go commando. Not me, but to each their own. Yet, a simple missing piece of clothing has turned me into a sex-crazed person. It’s all I can think about right now. I want him–so much that I can’t look away from the object of my desires. Then, I’m walking toward him, confident that he might give me what I want.

  His eyes tell me he’ll give it to me, too. All I need to do is give him permission. Conveying what I want with only my eyes, he reads me like an open book. When his lips touch mine, I forget every single reason why this is a bad idea. I don’t think about the fact that this ends tomorrow. I ignore the nagging feeling in my gut that I don’t have time to this, for him, for complicated. I pretend not to hear the voices in my head telling me I’m making a mistake.

  For once in my life, I allow myself to be completely consumed by another person.

  I allow him to take control of the situation.

  I give myself and my body over to him, willingly.

  As we lay in bed after, completely out of breath, I smile up at the ceiling in victory. Yes, I slept with my escort, which potentially makes him a prostitute and me a slut, but it was worth it. I enjoyed every minute of the last two hours of my life. This may have started out as a business arrangement, but that wasn’t just business. That was weeks of pent up sexual frustration, on both sides.

  How this changes things, I’m not sure. It doesn’t really matter. The reunion starts in a few hours, and after that, we’ll go our separate ways. This doesn’t have to be a big deal. Lots of people have one-night stands. Not me, before today, but other people.

  Can we even call this that? It’s the middle of the afternoon.

  “What are you thinking about, Jane?” Hunter asks, breaking my concentration. “You went from happy and sated to confused.”

  There he goes again, reminding me of who I really am. Jane never would have been with someone like Hunter. She wouldn’t have had the chance. He’s out of her league. Truthfully, he’s out of mine, too. I’m sure he knows that.

  “Nothing.”

  “Liar.”

  “What does it matter?” I reply rudely. “I’m sorry. It’s not important. Can we just forget about it?”

  Rolling toward me, he tilts his head toward me. “I can help you forget, again, if you want,” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

  Oh, Mr. Drake, how I would love that. I just don’t think it would help. Especially if he keeps calling me Jane. I know that’s my name, that he needs to get used to calling me it, but it kills the mood. Every time.

  “Come on, Jane. You have to get out of your head. The reunion isn’t for”–he rises up on his elbow to look over my shoulder at the clock–“two more hours.”

  I hear every word he’s saying, but I’m distracted by his body. The sheet slid down when he lifted up. He’s completely exposed to me right now, and he doesn’t seem to notice, or he doesn’t care.

  Two hours is a lot of time. We could go another round, or two. It’s not like we have to arrive right when it starts. It’ll be going on for hours. There’s plenty of time for me to get ready. Plenty of time to roll around one more time.

  “Is that a yes?” he asks, pulling the sheets away from my body and flipping me on top of him. I can feel him growing against my stomach.

  How can I say no to him when I want him so much?

  “I don’t,” a voice whispers.

  “What?” Hunter asks.

  Was that my voice? Shit. This could get awkward real quick if he thinks I’m talking to myself.

  “I don’t think I can say no to you,” I say, attempting to cover for my mistake.

  “Well then,” he starts as he shifts to grab a condom from the table. “Allow me to remind you why you don’t want to say no.”

  We’re only a little over an hour late. If he doesn’t quit kissing my neck and zip up my dress, we’re never going to make it, though.

  “We have to go, Hunter. I swear, you are so distracting,” I scold.

  “We could skip it. I promise to make it worth your while,” he teases.

  “I’m sure you would,” I reply, stepping away from him after I’m sure my dress is fully zipped. “How about I make you a promise instead?”

  “This could get interesting.”

  “We go to the reunion, make small talk for an hour, and when we come back here, you can have whatever you want from me until we have to leave for the airport tomorrow. Deal?”

  A devilish grin appears on his face and I take that as his approval.

  “Don’t forget your mask,” I say as I open the door.

  “Wait!” he hollers, running over to his bag and rummaging around. “I almost forgot. I bought you something.”

  Turning toward me, my hand slips from the door when I see what he has. We didn’t talk about this. In fact, I avoided it because I wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. If anyone asked, I was planning on making up a stupid excuse on the spot.

  “Why?” I whisper, my eyes still staring at the open box in his hand.

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  “You didn’t need to do this. I had a plan.”

  “You suck at lying, Jane. Now you won’t have to. Well, other than, you know…”

  His voice trails off as he makes his way over to me. Yeah, other than lying the entire night to every person we talk to. My fake fiancé. Now I can add my fake engagement ring to my list.

  Slipping the ring on my finger, Hunter smiles down at me.

  “Will you, Jane Sharp, pretend to be engaged to me for the night?”

  “I guess so,” I tease, as the ring comes to rest on my hand.

  It’s gorgeous. A band of diamonds on either side of one large diamond. I hope he kept his receipt. I’m sure this cost him a lot, and he’s going to want that money back after the weekend is over.

  “Ready now?” I ask, pulling my attention away from my hand. I can feel the ring, it’s weight a constant reminder of our lies.

  As soon as we’re in the elevator headed down to the lobby, Hunter insists we put our masks on. He helps me with mine and slides his down just as the doors open. Taking my hand in his, we make our way toward the ballroom. Sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I mentally prepare to be slapped in the face with my past.

  It’s only for an hour. I can do this. Hunter is here to help me.

  “You can still see how be
autiful you are even with that mask covering part of your face,” he says as we walk up to the registration table.

  “I wish yours didn’t cover so much of your face,” I reply before stepping into line.

  “Name please,” a redhead behind the table says without glancing in our direction.

  “Re–” Shit! This isn’t going well, and we’ve only just begun.

  “Jane Sharp,” Hunter says, stepping beside me, giving my hand a squeeze.

  Handing me a sticker that says “Hello! My name is Jane Sharp”, the redhead dismisses us.

  “What? I don’t get a sticker? I’m sad,” Hunter jokes as we walk inside.

  “How about a drink instead?” I suggest. I know I need one. I’ll probably need a handful by the time we leave here.

  “Why don’t you find us seats at a table and I’ll grab you a glass of wine? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “You’re leaving me alone? Here? With these people?” I stutter, freaking out and not hiding it.

  “Us people?” a voice asks, from behind me.

  Shit! I’ve already offended someone.

  Turning slowly, I get ready to defend myself when I realize who called me out.

  “Betsy. It’s so nice to see you,” I say, genuinely happy to see her after so long.

  “You, too Jane. What are you up to these days?” she asks, pulling me in for a hug.

  Looking over my shoulder to wave at Hunter, I find he didn’t wait to make sure I was okay before heading to the bar.

  “Engaged. My fiancé should be back in a minute with drinks.”

  Of all people, Betsy is one I wouldn’t need to lie to. We were close our freshman year of high school. She was one of the only people I considered a real friend back then. I never should have ditched her the way I did. When I quit the band, I quit her as well. I let our friendship die even though she did nothing to deserve being treated that way.

  “Yeah, I caught a glimpse of him when you walked in. You snagged a sexy man, girl.” It doesn’t sound like she’s holding a grudge, and for that I’m thankful.