by C. M. Owens
“Sorry! The brakes are way better than I expected!”
I look around, searching for the kid chasing a ball into the street, or the dog crossing the street, or the Chupacabra sighting, or what-the-fuck-ever has made her come to a teeth-clattering halt on the middle of the busiest road in Sterling Shore, as cars blow their horns behind us. There’s nothing.
“Why are we stopped?”
“Funeral procession,” she and Sean both say at the same time.
A few limos pass us, following a hearse or something. “So?” I ask.
More horns blare behind us, and a few choice expletives are thrown our way from the same direction.
“You have to stop when there’s a funeral procession,” Sean explains—or thinks he does.
“No, the hell you don’t. This is rush hour. Someone is going to break my windows in if you don’t get out of the damn road!”
“There’s nowhere to pull over. I have to stop here. It’s disrespectful to keep driving!” Salem yells back.
“How is it disrespectful? The guy or girl is dead!”
They both glare at me like I’m the idiot. Of course. Sure. Why not?
Let’s just sit here and die or something. Maybe someone will pull over for our funeral procession as a show of respect, and the cycle will continue.
My eyes flick to the side mirror, seeing a very large guy—at least twice my damn size—stalking down the line of cars on his way to us. I reach over and lock the doors, even though they’re already locked.
“Any day now, Salem,” I say impatiently. I really don’t want to fight that big motherfucker just because some dead guy is being driven down the other side of the road.
“We can’t drive until they’re all through. Their lights are on,” she argues.
“Most all cars have lights on even during the day. It’s not the fucking nineties anymore,” I say, growing increasingly worried as I track the rapid progress of Big Foot, who only seems angrier by the second. I think he’s getting bigger too, so Hulk might be a more accurate nickname.
“I think that’s all of them,” Sean says, and Salem floors the gas just as Hulk reaches out like he’s going to pound my window with his fist. The abrupt acceleration has my head snapping back.
“Pull over at the ice cream store,” I tell her, fighting the nausea.
“Can I get mint chocolate chip?” Sean asks from the backseat.
“Hell no,” I grumble.
Salem does pull over as soon as we reach it, spinning up more gravel. How? I don’t know. We’re on fucking concrete!
“Get out,” I tell her, causing her brow to wrinkle in confusion.
Still, she does as I say, and I circle around, tugging her away from the driver’s seat. “I might want ungrounded, but not this badly,” I tell her, only making that wrinkle more pronounced as her confusion grows. “I’m driving.”
I sit down, my knees at my chest, and wait forever for my seat to scoot all the way back again so my legs have room. Sean chuckles, smothering it as Salem drops to the passenger seat, pouting.
“Everyone is supposed to stop for a funeral procession,” she grumbles. “It’s drilled into you at an early age and you physically can’t help but stop.”
I roll my eyes as I gingerly drive us toward Dane’s house, whispering words of apology to my poor, abused baby—I’m referring to my car.
Salem is shooting me with daggers from her eyes by the time we reach the party, and I reach over and grab her damn pie to carry in. Weirdly, her pies have become everyone’s favorite thing, and they’re eventually going to demand she bring more than one.
Sean is still a semi-sweaty mess—my car had better not stink because of him—when we reach the front door. I don’t bother knocking as I head on in, and Salem chastises me for not knocking.
“I don’t knock unless they’re not expecting me,” I tell her without turning around. “And sometimes not even then.”
I grin when she rolls her eyes, and we head through Dane’s house, heading toward the back.
“Are all the Sterlings rich?” Sean asks quietly, his eyes taking in the lavish surroundings.
“Monopoly,” I remind him, and he nods like that’s a perfectly understandable explanation.
Just as I push through the backdoor, leading the way to the outdoor garden party, Salem stumbles to a halt, grabbing my shirt at the back and clinging to me.
“I’m underdressed,” she hisses, her eyes taking in the absurd amount of people and all the decorations. “And I didn’t bring enough pie.”
I smile to myself.
“You have a dress upstairs,” I tell her, turning to grin down at her as she glares up at me.
“You could have just told me it was—”
“Half those kids are from my school!” Sean growls, turning his own scathing glare at me. “And I stink!”
To this, I fucking grin. “Payback’s a bitch, kid. By the way, this is your party. Sterlings tend to rally around one of their own and make it known to the rest who belongs to them.”
Kid can’t stop getting picked on for five damn seconds. But that’s about to change. Not that I want him knowing I give a damn. It’s just a small damn that I give. No big deal.
His eyes widen in horror. “But I stink!”
“As I said, payback’s a bitch. Go make friends. You’ll find it a lot easier here.”
If looks could kill…
“You planned this party so Sean could make friends?” Salem asks, peering up at me with eyes full of warmth and appreciation.
Rain walks up, smiling over at Salem, and I gesture to her. “Rain planned it,” I say, causing Rain to look over at me in confusion.
Their backyard is bigger than my backyard. It could hold more people. Besides, Rain is good at planning parties for kids.
Me? Not so much.
Rain turns back to Salem, her smile returning, thankfully not selling me out. “Your dress is upstairs if you want to change. No worries if you don’t,” she tells Salem.
“I think I need to change,” Salem grumbles, gesturing down to her shorts and T-shirt.
“We’ll be back,” Rain says, tugging Salem with her.
Salem looks over her shoulder at me, and I wink at her before turning and finding four other Sterlings just staring at me with smirks.
“I must look damn good for all of you to be checking me out so thoroughly,” I quip, walking down the steps with Sean on my heels.
“Rain planned this party?” Dane asks, not acknowledging my comment.
“Technically she did,” I say with a shrug.
I notice Sean studying me as I speak to them. Kid is supposed to be mingling, not sticking to my side.
“After you asked her to,” Kode remarks, giving me a dry look. “And you’re the one who sent out all the invites.”
“Salem doesn’t need to know that,” I say with a shrug.
I really don’t want to use the fucking kid to gain favor with her; I wasn’t just saying that to him.
“Any change of clothes for me?” Sean finally asks.
I give him a pointed stare. “Hell no. You’re officially the stinky kid. Now go mingle and make friends.”
He narrows his eyes on me. “I can’t stink. Jenna Clank is here, and she’s the—”
He stops talking like he doesn’t want to tell me he has a crush on a girl, and a taunting grin forms on my lips.
“Trouble talking to girls, shrimp? Need advice on how to improve your game?”
He rolls his eyes. “Says the guy who’s grounded because his game is so weak he’s scrambling to buy roses and tampons to recover.”
Smartass.
“Joke’s on you, because the wall of shame doesn’t give me the willies.”
“The willies?” Sean asks around a snort. “The fifties sent a telegram saying you were too much of a douche to be stealing their lingo.”
“Hell called and wanted its spawn back,” I gripe, gesturing toward him.
“Doubtful. The
y were too afraid I’d take over so they kicked me out,” the evil kid says with a wicked grin.
“It’s like listening to a miniature version of you,” Kode says suddenly, causing Sean and I to both glare at him.
“Never say that again,” Sean and I say in eerily timed unison.
Our heads dart toward each other, and our eyes narrow.
“Just a little bit creepy,” Kode drawls, amused.
“I don’t like your friends,” Sean suddenly says.
“For once, I might agree with you,” I grumble, flipping the guys off when they all chuckle. “You have clothes downstairs. Should be a shower in there too. Just find Rain and she’ll point you in the right direction,” I tell the kid.
He turns and darts inside, and I swivel my head back to find my cousins still staring.
“Am I your fucking entertainment for the evening?” I ask flatly as I put the pie down on the dessert table.
A small smile graces my lips when I see the tin pan next to all the crystal dishes. What’s in that tin pan will taste better than all the others, but you wouldn’t know it from the outer-coating.
“He’s smiling at a pie,” Corbin stage-whispers.
“It’s way worse than we thought,” Kode adds.
Rolling my eyes, I turn to face them. “What are you assholes on about?” I ask, reluctantly taking the bait.
“You got it, you got it bad,” Corbin starts singing, and then laughs when I shake my head.
“That all you got? I can remember being so much better at this than any of you. I mean, my mocking was on point. This is just a poor man’s parody by comparison.”
“Not even going to deny it a little?” Dane muses.
“Why bother? You just caught me smiling at a fucking pie,” I point out, causing them to start laughing again.
“I seriously never thought I’d see the day when Maverick Sterling admitted he had a girlfriend without protest,” Kode says, sounding genuinely surprised, and I hold my hand up.
“I said nothing about having a girlfriend,” I point out.
“Annnnd there’s the denial,” Dale says, and they all nod like the world makes sense again, while I just stare at them blandly.
“I really don’t,” I go on.
“You really do,” Corbin argues, an asshole grin on his face.
“She and I are just feeling things out. Dating, so to speak. We’re—”
“For the past two weeks, how many days have you gone without seeing her?” Dane asks, cutting me off.
Bristling, I answer, “Well, I see her every day, but—”
“Is it expected that you’ll see each other every day, or do you make formal plans to do so?” Corbin interrupts.
I have to think for a second before I realize the answer. “It’s just expected because—”
“Are you hitting on other girls or fucking anyone else?” Corbin asks.
“Hell no!” I snap, surprising even myself with the vehemence in my tone. “But—”
“Are you sleeping over every night?” Kode butts in, eyebrow arched in question.
Gritting my teeth in annoyance from the multiple interruptions, I answer, “Yes, but that doesn’t mean—”
“You have a girlfriend,” they all say as one.
I look behind me, worried I’m going to find Salem and hear her heckle me for this nonsense. Fortunately, that dress must be complicated, because she still isn’t back.
I do spot Sean leaned against a wall and talking to a girl twice his height. His hair is still drenched—like he jumped in the shower and hopped out, only drying his body enough to wear the clothes.
The girl is giggling and blushing. Little shrimp does have game after all.
Returning my attention to the cousins I’m considering disowning, I shake my head in frustration.
“Boyfriends get sex, and in case you’ve forgotten, I’m still on probation.” Boom! Drops mic.
They can’t possibly argue with that logic.
The look they give me is incredulous. “Boyfriends get punished by girlfriends withholding sex,” Kode finally says. “Trust me. Worst weeks of my life were after that party where Tria shoved me into the pool.”
Fucking eh.
I think I have a girlfriend.
When exactly did this happen? And how did I not see it happening?
They look behind me, signaling someone is there, and I turn just as Salem steps outside looking…fucking incredible.
The purple dress brings out the streaks in her hair, making her look almost edible. Okay, completely edible.
It’s a fitted bodice up top, with a pixie like skirt at the bottom to go along with the casual dressy theme here. My eyes go down her legs, raking over every inch of exposed flesh.
Down, boy. You already got me in trouble once.
Okay, so maybe it was more mouth than dick that got me in trouble.
Her eyes scan over the party, unaware of my appraisal just yet. When she grins, I know she’s spotted Sean without even following her gaze. Just like I know she’s probably going to give him hell later. Just like I know she’s going to secretly worry he’s growing up too fast.
I’ve spent over two weeks not having sex with a girl I can’t stop thinking about, and a girl who sees Top Gun and immediately brings me the things that made her think about me. The girl who smiles just because I look her way.
The girl who made me pie and kept me from going insane while my mother went on a date with a guy I know nothing about, other than the online stalking I did to research him, of course.
Salem kept me sane. And the next night, she kept me sane again, since my mother liked dating so much that she planned two nights of it in a row.
And Salem is the only thing keeping me from losing my mind that my mother has four dates set up for next week with four different men.
My mother and father have switched places.
My life is upside down.
Fortunately, I have Salem. Otherwise, I’d be sitting at my mother’s house and making men disappear before she could go be an adult with them.
I haven’t felt alone at all. Not once. No empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. Even when I’m not with her, I still don’t feel alone.
And until they brought it up, I hadn’t really thought about the fact it’s just expected I’ll see her as soon as she’s off work. It’s expected that we’re sleeping in the same bed.
There’re no talks or communication about it. It just…is.
This might be a little worse than I realized.
“Think he just figured out how far gone he already is,” I hear Kode saying as I blink out of my trance.
Before I can say something smartass in return, Salem’s eyes finally find mine, and her smile spreads just like I knew it would. Like she’s always happy to see me.
Returning her smile, I let my eyes rake over her slowly, this time just to let her know I’m taking in the sights. When my gaze meets hers again, she has an eyebrow cocked in feigned indignation.
I close the distance between us as she gives up the pretense of being annoyed, and she doesn’t protest when my lips find hers.
By the way, thank fuck for that little green light, even though it leaves me wanting more all the time.
She’s soft against me, her body pressed against mine without concern for the fact we’re surrounded by people. Her hands slide up my sides, holding there as though she has to anchor herself.
That’s what promises me she’s feeling this as badly as I am.
Reluctantly, my lips move from hers, and I lean back, smirking down at her. “I think I want to see you in a dress more.”
“Easy access?” she quips.
“You look fucking amazing,” I say seriously.
Her eyes warm like I’ve just said something right—for once. This was the right moment for amazing and not hot. Duly noted.
Why does it feel like I’m being trained? Give the pup a treat when he doesn’t piss on the floor or something.
&nbs
p; “Well, that explains a lot,” comes a voice that has Salem and I both stilling.
She turns to absolute stone, and I look up to see my dad standing a few feet away, his eyes on us as he smiles. Fucking hell. I’m going to kill him. He said they wouldn’t be able to make it because of a party they were hosting.
It’s the entire reason I planned this for tonight!
“Thought I’d seen your cars at the beach house a lot, but I didn’t want to read into it,” Dad goes on, as Salem stares across from us.
I turn to find her mother sipping a glass of champagne as her knowing eyes and enigmatic smirk take over her face.
I really better not have just fucked this up.
Chapter 25
SALEM
Mom just looks at me, not acting too surprised to see me pressed against Maverick, his arms still around my waist as we both freeze like two teenagers caught in the liquor cabinet.
“Yeah,” Maverick says finally, clearing his throat. “Not a problem with that, is there?”
His voice sounds as easygoing and unaffected as ever, as his hand gingerly slides down my back.
“Of course not. You’re two adults who are capable of making your own decisions,” his father says genuinely, giving me a breath of relief.
Mom won’t rile him. It’d be worse for me to upset Maverick at this point than date him, since his father is perfectly fine with it. Guess Maverick was right to not be overly concerned with Ian’s reaction.
“I thought you had a party to host tonight,” Maverick tells Ian.
“We have one going on right now. We can be a little late. You said this was for Sean. I know why we do these sorts of parties, but I didn’t realize he was having issues at school, since that kid stays with Salem more than he stays at home.”
It’s a little endearing how he immediately felt like Sean took priority over his own party.
“I’ll be right back,” I say to Maverick.
He smiles, though I can tell it’s a little tight. He’s worried for me.
I pat his chest, trying to tell him it’ll be okay, but I don’t think he gets the memo. Even as he speaks to his father, I can feel his eyes following me, protectively watching as I reach my mother.
