by Blake, Penny
Until an Indian Summer day in early October.
I was cleaning my room, listening to homemade fireworks going off sporadically on the beach behind our house. Blaze was out, so I wondered if it was him and some of his friends on the beach setting them off.
I heard the rumble of an engine as a car pulled up to the house, and when I looked out my window, I saw Blaze getting out of his car alone. Perhaps it was my loneliness or the late burst of summer heat making me a little crazy, but I left my room do something I’d wanted to do since coming here.
Chapter 4
Present day…
I stare at his message for the hundredth time, my hand shaking every time I look at my phone. It’s true that ever since I saw him at his engagement party, I haven’t been able to get him out of my mind.
He’s there with me when I go to work and when I come home to my empty apartment. He’s there when I turn on an old blues song to drown out the silence, and when I pour myself a glass of wine to take the edge off. He’s there when I get into my empty bed at night with a book, which I can’t concentrate on anyway because I can’t stop thinking about him. Our past unspools over and over again in my mind, leaving my heart battered and raw.
But through it all, I never expect him to contact me. I expect for the spell he’s put on me to wear off in time, just like it had before. And once again, he’d be buried in the back of my mind, nothing more than a collection of sad memories that I try not to think about.
But drinks on Friday night?
I’m completely unprepared for this. And he’s engaged for goodness sakes. What could he possibly want with me?
I take a breath to steady myself and carefully type my message:
Before I can second guess myself, I hit send.
A few seconds later, his reply pops up:
I type out a short reply, then stare it for a while, trying to think of some extra pleasantries to add to make it all seem more casual. But there’s nothing casual about any of this.
And I hit send.
Ten years earlier…
I stripped off my night shirt and put on a robe, then made my way down to the pool.
It was an unseasonably hot night, and when I left the cool confines of the house, the warm air caressed my skin.
I walked to the pool, turned on the patio lights, and dropped my robe. Then I walked over to the diving board and dove in.
The cool water felt glorious. It was just the distraction I needed. Not that I’d come out here to be distracted.
I knew that every room in the back of the house—including Blaze’s room—looked out on the pool. He would notice the back light on outside, and when he looked out a window, he’d see me swimming naked.
After swimming for a bit, I would get out of the pool, slowly walk around the side, then dive back in. Then I’d bob up again, making sure my breasts were on display.
It felt heavenly to be so free.
It was the first time I’d ever been skinny-dipping and something about being naked in the open air was making me feel reckless. If Blaze didn’t come out here soon, maybe I’d go find him. Or maybe I’d just go back to my room and pleasure myself, like I’d been doing since the night he devoured me on the balcony.
At that moment, I was rewarded by the twitch of a curtain on the second floor. I knew he was watching now, so I made a show of doing a backstroke that put my entire body on display.
I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that my little show was for his benefit, so I didn’t look up at him, though I saw the curtain shift a few times out of the corner of my eye, so I knew he was still watching.
After I grew tired of showing off in the water, I sauntered up out of the pool, trying to walk as slowly and sensually as possible. Then I turned to the pool, giving him a perfect view of my butt, bent over for him and dove in.
I felt good about my little show, and decided it was better to keep him wanting, so I got out of the pool and towel tried my hair before putting on my robe.
As I made my way up to the house, I allowed myself to look up to the window where a lone figure stood in the yellow light.
I was startled to find that it wasn’t Blaze.
Standing there watching me with a hooded gaze was Raine, my absentee guardian. Ordinarily, the man was never to be found. He traveled for business all the time, and even when he was home, he avoided us completely. Mirabeth the housekeeper cooked and cleaned for us, and had begun asking about our day and getting to know us, but Raine was like a ghost.
And yet there he was, watching me. Surprise, surprise.
Maybe it was my reckless mood, but I found that I didn’t much care what he just saw. What he thought of me was none of my concern. So I simply held his gaze and gave him a wicked smile as I made my way to the door.
Then he pulled the curtain shut between us, and again, I was alone.
Chapter 5
A few days after the incident in Raine’s office, there was a party that Blaze and I were both invited to attend.
My stepbrother and I spoke so infrequently that neither of us realized we were both going to the same party until he walked in with his latest girlfriend and found me in the living room.
I was sitting on the couch chatting with the girl who’d I’d come with. When I saw Blaze, I raised a hand in greeting and he tipped his chin up in acknowledgement, and then we both returned to our own separate conversations.
After the way my parents had lived and died, I had no desire to touch alcohol. I knew Blaze drank heavily and often, which surprised me, and I never understood why it appealed to him.
But tonight, in a crowd of people yet utterly alone, I needed something, so I drank.
And drank.
And drank some more.
When the alcohol first took hold, I relished the way it made me feel warm and fuzzy all over. All my problems drifted a million miles away, and I was perfectly happy to be sitting on a stranger’s couch, where I was now talking to a boy from study hall who I never realized was cute before.
I watched his lips move as he told a boring story about going to a baseball game.
I drank another vodka and cranberry juice to make him more interesting.
After a while, I got tired of listening to him ramble, so I leaned in and kissed him.
I’d never kissed anyone but Blaze. When the new guy’s lips enveloped mine, it didn’t feel as heady as kissing Blaze. But it still felt good. Comforting. I didn’t feel so alone anymore.
I twined my arms around his neck and kissed him deeper. My head felt like it was filled with fizzy bubbles and my eyes were shut, but somehow, I still knew that everyone in the room was staring at me.
I didn’t give a fuck.
It felt so good not to give a fuck.
So good to press my body against another body, even if it wasn’t Blaze’s.
I wanted to be closer.
I sat on his lap, my legs straddling him. Now could kiss him and feel my crotch against his. The bulge in his jeans pressed against my core, and I wiggled in his lap to get more contact.
At that moment I felt a tight pressure close around my upper arm and I was pulled off…Jake? John? Jay?...so roughly that I almost lost my footing and fell to the floor.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Blaze yelled, his face an inch away and his eyes boring into mine. I wanted to lean in and kiss him instead of Boring Guy, but something in me was aware enough to know that he wouldn’t appreciate my making a scene in front of our class.
“Let go of me!” I yelled. “It’s none of your business what I do.”
“You were practically dry humping this douche in a room full of people!” He pointed to the guy from my study hall.
“Do you even know
his name?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but realized I didn’t have anything to say that would help my case.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” Blaze said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and leading me out of the room. “You should know better than to drink that much.”
“You’re one to talk,” I said. “And now you want to drive me home after you’ve been drinking? Have you learned nothing from your dad?”
“I only had one beer and I stopped drinking an hour ago. I knew I had to drive so I cut myself off.” He opened the passenger side door for me. “Get in.”
“Fuck you, Blaze!” I said plaintively as I got into the passenger seat and slammed the door. “You’re such a chauvinist pig. Night after night I have to see you manwhoring it up with sluts from our school—“
“They’re not sluts. They’re perfectly nice young women who just happen to be in touch with their sexuality.”
I let out a groan. “And yet when I finally find someone to kiss at a party, you practically shove me into a chastity belt.”
“That was more than just a kiss. Everyone was staring and I didn’t want people getting the wrong idea. Trust me, you’ll be thanking me tomorrow.”
“Wanna bet?”
He didn’t reply, and we rode the rest of the way in silence.
When he pulled into the driveway, I slammed the car door and stormed up to the house to get away from him. He seemed to keep pace with me effortlessly, and I mentally cursed his long legs.
As he opened the door, he said. “Listen Jess, I’m sorry if I cockblocked you tonight. It’s just that I care about you and I don’t want some asshole taking advantage of you at a party because you’re drunk. You’re my little sister—it’s my job to take care of you.”
I let out a bitter, mocking laugh. “I’m not your little sister. I think we both know that very well.”
“Well you’re like a little sister to me. Not by blood, but it’s the same difference.”
Somehow, that was the cruelest thing he could have said to me just then.
Something inside me broke, and I ran up the staircase before he saw my tears.
Chapter 6
Present day
In front of Gloria’s Wine Bar on Third Avenue, I check the time on my cell phone again.
I’d made good time on public transportation and got here a little early, but I can’t stomach the thought of getting here first, so I walk around the block twice in order to walk in fifteen minutes late.
I’m not sure why, but it makes me feel more in control to keep him waiting.
It’s a dark bar with black leather booths and exposed brick walls. On each scarred wood table is a single red rose in a plastic bud vase.
Blaze is sitting in a booth in the back corner, wearing a white cotton dress shirt that’s rolled up at the elbows, revealing muscular forearms. Even in the dim light, there’s no missing how perfectly his shirt stretches over the muscled contours of his powerful shoulders and chest. And even though it shouldn’t surprise me, it does: he still gives me butterflies even after all these years.
At the table, he carelessly holds a tumbler of whisky on the rocks in his hand, and in front of my chair is a glass of red wine.
“I hope it’s okay that I took the liberty of ordering for you,” he says. “That’s a California Zinfandel I thought you’d enjoy.”
I take a sip and it’s so heavenly that my eyes nearly roll back in my head. Smooth and velvety, it slides down my throat with ease and fills my whole body with welcome warmth.
“How is it?” he asks with a knowing smirk.
I shrug a shoulder. “It’s okay.”
His smirk remains in place, which annoys me, so I say, “How’s the fiancée?” I take another sip from my glass, never taking my eyes off his.
He’s the first to look away. “She’s at home tonight. She works in the city sometimes too.”
“Does she know you’re with me?”
“No,” he replies. I wait for him to say more, but he merely swirls his whisky around in the glass, keeping his gaze trained on me. “There’s something I’ve wanted to say to you for a long time. I’m sorry, Jess. I’m sorry for what happened the night of our graduation. I’m sorry it drove you out of town. I’m sorry I didn’t come after you sooner, and that I waited so many years to tell you I’m horribly sorry I am. I’m even sorry for what happened with Raine.”
I shrug again. “Like I said at your party, it’s water under the bridge. After I left, I never thought about it again.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care if you believe me or not,” I say. “I don’t care about what you think about me at all.”
“I think you do.”
“You’ve always been a smug bastard, Blaze.”
“And you’ve always been a stubborn brat.”
His tone is teasing, but something about the word ‘brat’ sets me off, and fury simmers in my gut. I stand up to leave. “If that’s why you called me here, then really, it’s fine. I appreciate your apology—”
“Please sit back down, Jess.“
I meet his gaze, and after a brief hesitation, I sit back down. Not because he asked me to, but because I’m not ready to leave.
I’m not ready to walk out on him for what could be the last time, no matter what my pride and good sense are telling me.
“After you left, I fucked up bad,” he says. “I fell into drinking so hard that I made our parents look like lightweights. Yet somehow I still managed to take enough business classes to get by and eventually make a name for myself in finance. It doesn’t hurt that most finance guys—and women—drink like fish.”
“Is that how you met your fiancé then, in the business world?”
“Yes. Two years ago. The first year was hell on her, and then she finally convinced me that I had a drinking problem and needed to quit. I’ve been sober for the past year.”
I eye his tumbler. “You’re not doing the best job there, Blaze. Isn’t drinking whisky against the rules?”
“Funny thing is…” He holds up his glass in a toast and drinks the contents down in a single gulp. “I got tired of the ribbings from my colleagues when we’d all go out for drinks, so I made a habit of drinking coke and gingerale. It’s a weird combination, I know. But it suits me. And it looks like whisky, so I don’t have to deal with the lame jokes.”
“Well I’m happy that you got your life together,” I say. “If that’s why you asked me to come here, then good for you. And I appreciate your apology. But for what it’s worth, I don’t have the best memories when it comes to you. I lift the sleeve of my dress to show off a few of the scars that extend from my shoulder to my wrist. “I got these the last night we were together, and they still haven’t healed. I don’t think they’ll ever heal. So forgive me if I don’t jump for joy that you cleaned up your act and have the perfect life. Because I’m still recovering—some scars never heal, they just fade. And the deeper they are, the longer it takes.”
He reaches over with pain in his eyes, taking my arm in his hand and examining it. I try to pull away but he holds it firmly.
In a way, it feels good for him to see what happened because of him. For whatever reason, it makes me feel vindicated.
“I’m sorry you were hurt because of me,” he says softly, and there’s something unexpected in his tone. Something sweet and intimate that I haven’t heard in a long time. “I’m so damn sorry.” And then he leans over and kisses me.
The moment his lips meet mine, it’s like nothing has changed. I’m young and vibrant and filled with hope.
I’m in love for the first time.
I’m willing to hope anything, believe anything.
When he moves to take a step back, I cling tighter. Kiss harder. Refuse to let him go.
But he doesn’t pull away. He holds me possessively, and devours my mouth with his.
Chapter 7
Ten year earlier…
I was in th
e kitchen eating breakfast with Mirabeth when she casually announced, “Mr. Everly asked you to meet him in his office later, after you get home from school.”
I nearly choked on my toast.
“Are you okay dear?” she patted me on the back, then stood up and ran a glass of water from the sink.
“Thanks,” I said, my voice hoarse. She handed me the glass and I took a sip.
Raine. The last time I saw him was the night I was feeling bold and gave him that little striptease by the pool.
Normally I barely saw the man. He was always away on one business trip or another, and when he was actually home, he avoided us entirely.
Since we all shared the same house, I figured I’d see him again eventually. Yet being summoned to his office felt ominous somehow. Add that to the fact that Mirabeth rarely talked about him—he was like a ghost in the house—and the whole thing took me off guard.
“Did he tell you what he wants to talk about?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Mr. Everly doesn’t tell me much. I’ve worked for the family for twenty years—and I’ve known him since he was a practically child, or at least a teenager—and yet I still know very little about him.”
“When did he come to live here?” I asked.
“Let’s see. He’s twenty five now. He came to live here when he was fourteen. So he’s been here eleven years then. Not long at all considering the role he’s taken on. I mean, when he first came here he was a troubled foster kid, and now he’s taken over the family empire.”
“How was he…troubled?”
“Maybe I misspoke. Damaged is a better word. I don’t know the details, but I do know that before he arrived here, he was abused. Severely abused, as I understand. When he first arrived at the house, he was painfully shy. Barely spoke to anyone. It was clear that he was deeply unsure of himself and didn’t know who to trust.
He warmed up a little over the years, but not much. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, he lacks the ability to connect. Which is a shame. He’s such a handsome man, and so successful. And he’s always been kind to the staff. But he’s odd.” She sipped her coffee and seemed to consider him. “He does an excellent job running the Everly empire, from what I’ve been told. He’s a smart business man, and very devoted to the company. I believe he was grateful for all that the Everly's did for him, taking him in and such. He knew that their one wish for him to carry on the family business, and he was eager to please them, to show his gratitude for all he’d been given, so he threw himself into his career from day one.
