Bad For You

by Parker, Weston

  Tristin’s heart beat steadily against my chest, but something about the way his body tensed above mine made me look back at him. “I still don’t really understand why or how we ended. We were damn good together. If you ask me, there was never a time when we weren’t. I mean, fuck, we still are.”

  The urge to tell him the truth slammed into me, but I couldn’t do it. Driving a wedge between him and his family during such a difficult, delicate time for them just seemed wrong. Just earlier tonight he’d been telling me how things already weren’t easy for him.

  If I told him now that Selena had been responsible for our breakup, there was no telling how much more difficult I would make things. It wasn’t fair to pile that onto him right now along with everything else he was going through.

  I didn’t know if his father had been involved in what she’d done, but I’d always assumed he had to have at least known about her little chat with me. With Luke already being in such poor health, I was also afraid of how any possible fallout might affect him.

  So no. Now isn’t the time for the truth. I would tell Tristin eventually. Once things calmed down a little. I’d been keeping it to myself for fifteen years; another few weeks wouldn’t make a difference. Especially not in light of his father’s heart attack and the strain they were all already under.

  “We are good together,” I agreed but left it there. Brushing his hair back with my fingers, I wriggled to get free. “It never felt right to move into my parents’ bedroom, so I stayed in here. I did make some changes to the exterior, though. There was a lot of repair work and maintenance to be done. I painted, broke down the old porch and replaced it with a longer, narrower one, and got a new door. A landscaping company also came in to spruce up the front garden a bit. Make it easier to maintain.”

  “You’ve done a great job.” He sat up after lifting himself off me, the sheet falling to his hips, making him look like a cover model for one of those sexy romance novels I loved so much.

  “Thanks.” My robe hung from the hook next to my closet, and I pulled it on once I’d climbed out of the bed, securing the belt around my waist. “I’m just going to take a shower. I need to be up early, and I never sleep well if I don’t rinse the day off first.”

  “Okay, I can take the hint.” He grinned and showed me his palms in surrender. “You should know that now that you’re single, I’m going to do my best to sweep you off your feet. I’m leaving now, but I’ll be back, Brittany Cleaver. Count on it.”

  Long after he was gone, I replayed those words in my head. Nerves meshed with excitement in my insides, stealing sleep away from me even now that I had washed the day off. I’d wanted a second chance with him for so long, and it seemed like I was about to get it.

  My heart soared at the possibility, but my brain was a little more reserved about it. Just because we still had incredible chemistry and the sex was even better than ever didn’t mean we’d be able to make it work as adults. Losing him a second time would break me, shatter my soul into so many pieces I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover.

  It also wasn’t even just that. I hadn’t told him the truth before because I’d been a kid who had been scared of his mother, but I couldn’t hide behind that now. I wasn’t eighteen anymore, and while I hadn’t had any interactions with her since, I couldn’t claim Selena still scared me as much.

  Sure, I had my reasons now for not telling him, but they weren’t the same reasons as before. Irrespective of how great all of those reasons sounded to me, I wasn’t sure he would agree that any of them were good enough to have kept this from him then and to be keeping it from him now. Which meant that after everything, our past might very well come back to haunt us. To break us apart. For good this time.

  But I still couldn’t take the chance to tell him. Not when his father’s life potentially hung in the balance.

  17

  TRISTIN

  Archer and I were in my office, trying to figure out a way for me to win Brittany’s heart back. Being with her again had been so absolutely fucking amazing that I was afraid of somehow screwing it up and losing her. Again.

  Since I still didn’t really know what had gone wrong the first time around, there was a potential minefield of things that could make our relationship blow up in my face. Fuck, I didn’t even know if we could call it a relationship just yet.

  I wanted it to be one, but that didn’t make it true. Unfortunately, that was something I’d have to work at.

  Bouncing ideas off Archer had seemed like a good idea when I’d arrived, but I was starting to regret it. He stood at the window, facing me with his hands gesturing animatedly while he talked.

  “I’ve got it.” He snapped his fingers. “A trip to Paris. Show her the Eiffel Tower, then take her to Venice from there and rent a gondola to take her around the canals.”

  A contemplative expression passed over his features as he rubbed his chin. “Better yet, what about buying her an equestrian ranch? Does she like horses? Who am I kidding, all women like horses.”

  “Classical Europe or an equestrian ranch,” I said, completely deadpan. “Those are your suggestions?”

  “You’re a freaking billionaire, Tristin,” he said. “There’s literally nothing you can’t do if you want to impress her. What about the beach? Does she like the beach? Because if she does, buy her a private island. Anyone would love that.”

  “Are all of your ideas going to be over-the-top?” I scratched my chin, arching my brows at him when he snapped his fingers again. “Before you come up with another bogus plan like taking her on an African safari or something, you should know that none of that is going to impress her.”

  The grin he suddenly broke out in made him look like a madman. “Why stop at taking her on an African safari? I’ve heard they’ve got a lot of game farms around there. Buy one, put in it her name, then you can tell her you’re investing in your future together.”

  “No.” I didn’t even have to think about it. “She’d never forgive me, and again, she’s never been overly impressed by money. It’s got to be a genuine effort.”

  “What’s more genuine than a grand gesture?” He leveled a dark-eyed stare at me. “The way I see it, you can afford to give her the world, so do it. I suppose you could always just buy her earrings or something, but that seems lame in comparison.”

  Pushing away from the window, he dropped into the chair across from my desk and sighed like I was being entirely unreasonable. “Okay, then. She’s a teacher, right? That means she must love kids. Put a baby in her.”

  I choked on the sip of the coffee I’d just taken. “Excuse me?”

  He shrugged, but I didn’t miss the way the corners of his mouth twitched. “You heard me. Knock her up. If money won’t impress her, maybe your sperm will.”

  “Eventually, sure.” I laughed when he finally gave in to the grin he’d been trying to fight. “Let’s dial it down a notch for now, though. We broke up in high school, for God’s sake. She’d think I was crazy if I asked her if she wanted to have my baby right now.”

  “Fine.” He pretended to pout. “No baby, no extravagant travel, and no farms or ranches. Got it. Should we revisit the earring idea? I felt like we were onto something there.”

  “She’s not going to be won over by diamonds, or pearls, or any other jewelry for that matter.”

  “Fuck. Why couldn’t you have fallen for a shallow, materialistic girl?” he joked. “Any of these ideas would’ve had her eating out of the palm of your hand.”

  “I fell in love with her because she isn’t a shallow, materialistic girl.” I’d had my fair share of those coming after me in the past. “She’s different.”

  “What? Do you mean to tell me she likes you for you?” he teased. “There’s a song about that, isn’t there? Oh, I know. Get that band to perform the song for her. A private rock concert. That’ll get you in her panties for sure.”

  “I don’t need help getting into her pants.” I gave my head a shake when he smirked and lifted his hand
for a high five. “None of that. She’s not some conquest. I need something real. Something that will show her how much she means to me and that I’m not giving her up again. I’m playing for keeps, and she needs to know that I’m serious about it.”

  He dropped his head into his hand. “You’re whipped, bro. Totally fucking whipped. What happened to all the wingman bonding moments we were going to have?”

  “The what?” I laughed. “When were we going to have those?”

  “When I met you,” he said simply, fighting another grin that let me know he was kidding. “I thought we were going to have these epic, crazy nights together and wing each other into the beds of supermodels.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but no. I only want to get into one woman’s bed, and like I said, that’s not where I need the help.”

  He waved me off. “I know. Okay, let’s get serious, then. What does she like? There’s got to be something that will prove to her that you deserve another chance.”

  We were interrupted by the office door swinging open. My mother swept into the room, unannounced and uninvited, large black sunglasses sitting on top of her head and her phone in her hand.

  “Yes. Thank you, Marcus,” she was saying, holding up a finger to us like we were the ones interrupting her. “We need everything to be perfect. This is his formal re-entrance to society. It has to leave an impression.”

  A chill crept down my spine. It didn’t take a genius to figure out whose re-entrance she was referring to. I gave her a look, but she ignored me flat out.

  Her brown eyes came to a rest on mine, staying there as she finished up her call. “Plan the party of the year for me, Marcus. I’ve got the guest list ready to go. Send me the samples for the invitations before close of business.”

  She hung up on her event planner and focused on me, not acknowledging Archer’s presence with anything more than a curt nod in his direction. “I’m throwing a party at our beach house to welcome you home over Memorial Day weekend.”

  “I’m busy,” I said on instinct. “I don’t need a party. The library fundraiser was my official appearance to let people know I’m home.”

  “No, it wasn’t. It was your first appearance. This is your welcoming. Everyone important will be there. Cancel whatever was going to keep you busy. I must insist that you attend.”

  “I must insist that you start making appointments before you show up.” It was a discussion we’d had before, but it seemed she’d forgotten.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, flicking a hand toward the door. “The people around here know that I’m a force to be reckoned with. I was walking these halls before you were even conceived. No one in this building is going to stop me from walking into whichever office I choose whenever I choose to do it.”

  “Yes, but I’m in a meeting.” I gestured toward Archer. “We’re right in the middle of something. You and I can discuss this party later.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss. I’ve already received replies to my unofficial invitations, and everyone worth mentioning has confirmed their attendance. You will be there, Tristin.”

  She didn’t say “or else,” but it hung in the air between us anyway. There was nothing she could really do to me, but for my dad’s sake, I’d been going easy on her.

  While I didn’t really have any plans for that weekend, I’d said no by reflex. If she’d organized the party and wanted me there so badly, it meant she was probably up to something I wanted no part of.

  Out of the corner of my eye, however, I caught Archer giving me a look and a small, almost imperceptible nod. What the… Fine.

  “I’ll be there,” I repeated after her, trusting that my VP had something up his sleeve. “Was there anything else? Like I said, we’re right in the middle of something.”

  She sniffed the air, but then she shook her head. Her hair was so styled it didn’t shift at all with the movement. Dark eyes flashing with disapproval, undoubtedly because of the tone I’d taken with her when we had company, she spun on her heels and marched out again.

  Archer let out an audible breath when the door slammed shut behind her. “Jeez, you Ramseys are intense fucking people. Why did that feel like a showdown?”

  “Because it was a showdown.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “My mother and I have never seen eye to eye on a lot of things, but it’s a little bit worse now than it was before. She seems to be having trouble realizing that I didn’t come home to be a perfect, obedient lapdog. Why did you want me to agree?”

  “Well, rather you going head-to-head with her than me.” He widened his eyes with a shake of his head. “That woman is right about one thing. She is a fucking force to be reckoned with. I’m a fully grown man, and she scares the shit out of me. Give me boardroom full of men who rule the world and I’m fine, but her?”

  “I get it. She’s something else.” She really was. “Memorial Day weekend, Arch. Why did I just agree to that?”

  “Oh, right.” He massaged his temples, closing his eyes like he needed a minute to get himself together before he straightened up again. “Take your girl to the shore with you. Rent a nice beach house. See her in a bikini. If you take her with you to a place your family and apparently everyone who’s important will be, she’ll have to know you’re serious about her.”

  “Brittany at the Wrightsville Beach house,” I mused, wondering if she’d even agree to it. “It might just be a bloodbath, but it’s not a half-bad idea. If I want her to know that I want her to be a part of my life, this is a good place to start.”

  “Taking her to your”—he made air quotes with his fingers—“‘official re-entrance to society’ will make a statement. Not only to her, but to your parents and everyone else who will be there. I’d think about it carefully, but this might just be your answer. Nothing says ‘you’re it for me’ like making sure the world knows that she’s your girl.”

  “She is my girl,” I said, already setting the wheels in motion in my brain. “I just have to make her see it, and I will. You’re right. I used to take her with me to all kinds of fancy events, but maybe I didn’t make it clear enough to her that I wanted her to be with me in that part of my life.”

  “It’s worth a shot,” he said. “Plus, the bikini thing. Seriously, it’s a win-win situation. What could possibly go wrong?”

  I froze, my eyes narrowing as I let out a loud groan. “You just had to go there, didn’t you? There’s a lot that can go wrong with that crowd, but let’s hope you didn’t jinx it.”

  His head snapped back, but then he burst out laughing. “I didn’t jinx a thing, boss man. It’s all going to be just fine. Take my word for it. It’s a party at the beach. Bad things don’t happen at beach parties.”

  “Someone should tell that to the scriptwriters for horror movies and crime televisions shows,” I said dryly. “Let’s get back to work before it gets even worse. Thanks for your help, but I think I’ve got it from here.”

  18

  BRITTANY

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, Ms. Cleaver,” a voice came from my classroom door. “There was a delivery for you at the front office.”

  I paused my lesson midsentence, frowning as I turned toward the door. As soon as I saw that whoever had brought my delivery to the classroom was completely hidden behind a massive bouquet and a teddy bear in a bikini, I blushed so hard it felt like my face was about to melt off.

  “Thank you so much for bringing it to me,” I said as I rushed over, wondering where on earth I was supposed to go with all those flowers. “I’m sorry you had to carry an entire flower shop.”

  The bouquet weighed a ton, and I caught one of the ladies from the front office winking at me when I lifted it out of her arms. “It’s no problem. I’m curious about that teddy bear, though. Any idea why it’s in a bikini?”

  “None,” I said honestly, even though I had a very good idea who had sent it. I didn’t want to open the card right away, just in case my face really did melt off if he’d written something scandalous
inside.

  The kids made a huge fuss of the flowers, jumping up and clamoring around me to get a good look at them. They squealed with laughter over the scantily clad teddy bear and fired off so many questions that I lost track of who asked what.

  “Ms. Cleaver, who are those from?”

  “Do you have a boyfriend, Ms. Cleaver?”

  “Do you kiss him?” That question was met with a chorus of “eww’s” and comments that left me in hysterics.

  “Of course she doesn’t kiss him. People only kiss when they’re married” was one of them.

  Another was from one of my more boisterous students. He was one of six kids, older than three of his siblings, and considered himself something of an expert on just about every topic.

  “That’s not true. My sister says anyone can kiss anyone,” he interjected. “She says it’s not gross. It doesn’t feel like there’s a dead fish in your mouth if it’s the right someone’s tongue in there.”

  I was assuming there was context behind that statement that he wasn’t giving, but I didn’t ask for it. The admin lady mouthed “good luck” at me and then sprinted back to the safe space of her office, far away from kids shouting about kisses and dead fish.

  “That’s disgusting,” one of the little girls shrieked. “No one’s ever putting their tongue in my mouth.”

  Just you wait a few years, Margie. You’ll change your tune. I found a spot on the cabinet running along the length of my classroom that was big enough for the bouquet and set it down.

  Recess was coming up next. I’d go scour around the staff room during the break to see if I could find a vase in there that would take the monstrous bouquet. The teddy bear got wedged in behind the flowers. Hopefully, it would be an out of sight, out of mind situation.

  “Calm down, everyone,” I called once I went back to the front of my classroom and clapped my hands. “I know that was exciting, but let’s get back to work.”