by Anna Brooks
“If it’s too much, you don’t have to finish.”
“No, you need to know, you need to understand. I was not myself last night. You deserve to know why I acted like that. Besides, my mom keeps bugging me to talk to someone about it, and I’ve decided that you’re the lucky one.” He unclenches his jaw to give me a weak smile.
“Anyway, the shower was running, and she was in the tub. Her wrists were sliced open with blood dripping down them. Most of it was dried, though. I don’t know how long she had been sitting there.”
I gasp and cover my mouth. “Oh, God. That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”
“She left a note. A fucking note. She said she didn’t think it was fair to take the baby’s life without taking her own, so…”
“I’m so sorry.” I wipe the tears that silently fall down my cheeks. I can’t imagine seeing someone you love like that. And knowing the life you created was destroyed on top of it.
“Yesterday was the anniversary of that day.” He sits back down next to me. “I actually hadn’t had a drop of alcohol since I moved here almost a year ago. I fucked up last night. God, I fucked up so bad with you.”
“It’s fine. You’re okay now. I’m okay.” I put my hand on his arm, hoping to make him feel better. I want to take his pain away, make it mine, so he doesn’t have to feel it anymore.
“No, it’s not fine. You could have gotten hurt last night. Christ, look at you; you’re a whole five feet nothing, and I grabbed you in the fucking water. I could have fucking killed you.” He puts his hands on top of his head, links his fingers together, and squeezes his eyes shut.
“But you didn’t. And I’m fine.” Taking a breath, I add, “Do you want to talk about it more, about why you were there?”
“No. I don’t. I want to forget about it, actually. I’ve dealt with their deaths; yesterday was a bad day. I want you to know, though,”—he makes me look at him before finishing—“I’m not normally that guy.”
“Let’s forget about it, then.”
“Pierce is gonna kick my ass when he finds out you stayed here, rightfully so.”
“No, he’s not. I told him we ran into each other. Seriously. I understand how rough yesterday was for you. I won’t say anything to him. I get it.”
I want him to know that what he says or does with me is safe. “But please, let’s move on. Talk about something else. How about twenty questions?”
* * *
Travis
“Twenty questions? You want to play twenty questions?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“Sure, why not? You explained last night, I understand, now let’s move on. I’ll go first. Favorite movie.”
I hang my head for a minute, processing what just happened. How did this girl — this beautiful, brave, selfless girl — make her way into my cold heart in a matter of a minute? When I woke up this morning, the memories of last night flashed in my mind, and I can honestly say I’ve never felt like such a piece of shit. I don’t know what it is about her. A girl like her should be with a good guy. Not one like me, who's so messed up in the head that I walk into a lake, drunk off my ass, and practically drown a completely innocent stranger trying to help.
Since Tammy killed herself and my unborn baby, I’ve been a fucked-up mess. When it first happened, I did nothing but sit in my apartment and drink myself into oblivion. I didn't shower for weeks because I refused to go into that bathroom.
After a few months of agony, my mom kicked my ass into gear. I went back to work for my uncle’s construction company and made everyone believe I was healing. What they didn’t know was that as soon as I got home, I would drink shot after shot of Jack until I passed out. Then I would do the same thing the following day. This went on for about a year and a half. I got really good at pretending.
Then Mom stopped by unexpectedly one evening after I had passed out. That was the final straw. She made me sober up, and I decided to move up to Wisconsin from Chicago to be by my brother, Brandon. He moved to the Milwaukee suburbs a few years ago and got a job as a police officer, like our dad was.
I was fine all day. I even forgot what day it was until right before I picked Pierce up for Meara’s graduation party.
Seeing all of the eighteen-year-old kids so happy brought back the memories of what I was like a few years ago. I had so much damn hope and excitement for my future.
I had grabbed a bottle of Jack out of the cooler and walked around until I drank the entire thing. I remember looking over at Char and watching her profile. She was looking at the water with such a sense of peace. I envied her. She looked like a fucking angel — wavy blond hair halfway down her back, the reflection of the moon glowing around her like she literally fell from Heaven.
I lean toward her and grab the back of her head. My only thought is to get my hands and mouth on this girl. At the last possible second, I decide to slow down so I don’t scare her, and brush my lips against hers. Barely there, but every nerve in my body comes to life for the first time in years. She’s hesitant at first, but once I swipe my tongue across the seam of her lips, she presses harder and grips my biceps. My dick gets hard, and before I do something to push her too fast, I pull back and answer her question.
“Backdraft.”
“Hmm?” She hums, eyes wide open, cheeks flushed, and damn if that isn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“My favorite movie. It’s Backdraft.” I smile at her and let go of her head. I go to the kitchen with the excuse of getting a couple of bottles of water. Really, I need a minute to tame my dick. I adjust my shorts and sit back down next to her. Handing her the open bottle, I ask the same question.
“Favorite movie?”
“Nope. Not answering that.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you’ll laugh at me.” She shakes her head, and her hair falls from the messy knot she has it in. I’ve never seen anyone look so effortlessly beautiful. The ice surrounding me starts to melt from being near her warmth.
“I’d never laugh at you, sweetheart.”
“Dirty Dancing,” she says shyly.
“Favorite food?” I ask, not sure why she’s so embarrassed.
“Chinese. You?”
“Breakfast food.”
“Well, you certainly can make a kickass breakfast. Favorite color?”
“Black.” I raise my eyebrows waiting for her reply.
“White. Truck or car?”
“Fast car. Favorite kind of music?”
Her forehead creases when she thinks of an answer. “That’s too hard to answer. It depends on my mood. You?”
“Rock, metal. I can’t stand pop music.”
There’s a moment of silence before she breaks it. “Dream job?”
“Firefighter. You?”
“I don’t know yet. Biggest fear?”
“Losing someone I love,” I answer before I think. “What’s your biggest fear?”
“Well, now my answer is going to sound so trivial. It’s spiders.”
I laugh and rub my chin, thinking of a question. When one pops into my mind, I snap my fingers. “Most embarrassing moment?”
“Ugh. You had to go there, didn’t you? It’s so cliché, but I walked around a restaurant with toilet paper hanging off my shoe. My family saw it but didn’t say anything the entire meal. I was so embarrassed when I finally realized it. Then, when I bent down to take it off, I fell and hit my head on the table. Half of our drinks spilled and the whole restaurant saw. It was mortifying. You?”
Her laughter is almost as hot as seeing her turned on. “I don’t get embarrassed. No, I take that back. My behavior last night was embarrassing.”
She waves her hand in front of her face and makes a ‘pshh’ sound. She looks at the clock with wide eyes and stands. “I’ve gotta go. Do you need me to take you to your car?”
As much as I want to spend more time with her, I know I need to let her go. “Nah. I’ll call Pierce and have him take me.”
“That reminds me. How do you
know him?”
“From the gym. He’s also friends with my brother, Brandon. Since I moved here, I’ve pretty much picked up contracting jobs and go to the gym. I’ve gone out with Brandon and Pierce a few times, but mainly I know him from the gym. Besides, I don’t think he’d be too fond of us hanging out.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” She bites her lip and rocks on her heels a couple of times. “We probably shouldn’t tell him; he’s a little overprotective.”
He seriously would kick my ass. I can hold my own, but Pierce trains in all types of martial arts. You don’t want to fuck with him. Besides, I didn’t do anything wrong. It was only a kiss. A ‘thank-you’. He doesn’t know that looking at his cousin makes my dick hard. I decide to agree with her.
“Yeah. I’ll blow him off when he asks.”
I can’t take my eyes off her, and she’s looking around the room, at everything but me. Shy. Fucking adorable. After last night, I’d never believe she has a shy bone in her body, but she said she wasn’t normally like that.
There’s a moment of awkward silence before she clears her throat and finally looks at me. “Well, I guess I’ll see ya around. I’m only here for another month and a half before we go back to Texas.” She looks away from me for a second, then turns and grabs her keys off the counter.
Fuck it. I should let her go, but I can’t without knowing when I’ll see her again. I need to see her again. Pierce invited me to his parents’ cookout next weekend. “You going to the barbecue Saturday?”
“Definitely.” Her cheeks turn pink. “Are you?”
“I am now.”
She tries not to smile, and I grab her hand. “I’ll walk you out.”
Once we reach her car, I gently grip her face in my hands and lean down to rest my forehead on hers. “Thank you,” I say, before kissing her cheek. I drop my hands and start to step back, but she grabs my shirt. Her hands shake as she stands on her toes and presses her lips to mine. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer the same time she wraps hers around my neck.
She’s tentative at first — soft, sweet kisses that drive me crazy and make me want more, make me want every fucking thing. I run my hands down to her perfectly round ass and press her into me a little harder. She gasps, and I take the opportunity to slide my tongue into her mouth. Just like her lips, she’s soft and sweet, fucking delicious. She lets out the sexiest moan, and I know it’s time to pull away. Not because I want to, but because every fiber of my being wants inside this girl, and I know I can’t, at least not yet.
She sighs and unwraps her arms from around my neck. “Bye, Travis.”
“Bye, sweetheart.” I want to touch that perfection one more time, so I squeeze her ass. She lets out a yelp, and then laughs as she gets into her car, waving as she drives away.
Chapter 3
Charlotte
THE REST OF THE week drags by slowly, and I can’t get Travis out of my head. I keep thinking about the way he makes me feel. The way he kissed me — slow, demanding. The other boys that I’ve kissed are amateurs, like sloppy fish. Their kisses didn't make me tingle all over. Travis’ kisses, though, are like an electric current flow through me when his lips touch mine.
I know fantasizing is all I’m going to be able to do. He was kissing me because of what happened at the lake; it’s not like a guy like him would ever be interested in me. I’m shy, boring… and inexperienced.
Trying to keep the status quo this week, I hang out with my mom on the beach. We work on our tans and read every trashy magazine we can get our hands on. A part of me wants to tell her about Travis, but I know she would tell me to stay away from him. We don’t live here anymore, and getting involved with someone, when I live over a thousand miles away, is setting myself up for failure. She would be right, too. I hate it when she’s right, even in theory.
Dad and I are also working on a project together. We take pictures and have them developed in black and white. Then we hand color them with oil paints. I’m currently working on one of the lake, and my dad is painting an apple tree.
“Have you put any more thought into what you want your major to be?” he asks without looking at me. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to see me roll my eyes at him. I just turned seventeen, how in the hell am I supposed to know what I want to do with the rest of my life? I would like to pursue photography, but he insists I need a more ‘stable choice of study’.
“I told you, I’m not sure. Can’t I take a year off and think about it?” I look at him so I can see his reaction, but all I see is water coming at my face from the flick of his paintbrush. “Ahh! Hey! What’d you do that for?” I laugh, wiping the drops with my t-shirt.
“Don’t you ever mention that again. Do you know the statistics of kids who actually go back to school after taking a year off? No? Well, I do, and they’re not good. My daughter will not be one of them.” He takes his brush, freshly dipped in red paint, and holds it inches from my face. “Promise me.”
“What? Promise what? Don’t you dare.” I lean back farther in my chair to avoid his brush.
“Promise me you’ll go to school right away,” he says, completely serious.
“Okay, I promise. Now put that thing away.”
“Sure.” He starts to pull the brush back, then pushes it forward and dabs me on the nose.
Without thinking, I grab the cup of water we use to rinse the brushes and throw it on him. A moment of shock crosses his face before he lets out a booming laugh. I join in and get the paint off my nose while he wipes the water off his glasses.
“You always have to take it one step too far, don’t you, Lettie?” he asks, putting them back on while fighting laughter. Dad calls me Lettie most of the time. If he’s angry with me or giving me a lecture, then I’m Charlotte. He could never keep mine and Caroline’s names straight, so he came up with his own system. Somehow, Charlotte turned into Lettie. I don’t mind; it makes me feel special.
“Me?” I feign innocence, trying not to smile.
“You’re worse than me.”
“Am not.”
“Yes, you are. You always have to have the last word, the last laugh, the last everything.”
I shrug my shoulders and continue painting. My mind confused over Travis, I twirl my brush in circles on the canvas. After a few minutes, Dad gets up from his seat rather quickly. He exits the room and returns with a mirror. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He runs around to the front of my easel and places the mirror under my nose. I laugh and push it away. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, good. I thought maybe you had stopped breathing or something,” he says, putting a hand to his heart. “I mean, you let me have the last word, and I wanted to make sure you were still alive when I did this.” He busts out the running man, then the cabbage patch, followed by what I think is supposed to be the sprinkler. I’m laughing so hard tears are rolling down my cheeks.
“That. Is what winning looks like.” He snaps his fingers and walks out of the room like a runway model, swaying his hips dramatically. Just when I think he’s gone, he leans back in, gives another snap, and flicks his imaginary hair.
Mom walks by, and I tell her, “Your husband is a little crazy.”
“I know. His craziness is one of the things I love about him. He makes me laugh. You should always be with someone who can make you laugh.”
I wipe my eyes again and pack up my paints. Tomorrow is the barbecue, and I want to make sure I have my outfit ready. Not because Travis is going to be there. No, it has nothing to do with him.
* * *
“Hey, look at you. You look super cute!” Meara yells, holding me at arm’s length.
After many outfits, I decided on a simple red sundress and cowboy boots. The jean jacket vest I have on over the top has a lace back, so you can see the red through it. I pulled my hair to the side in a messy braid. I’m glad Meara likes my outfit; she has much better fashion sense than I do. I’m usually a jeans and t-shirts girl but wanted to look ni
ce today.
“Thanks. Here, I have the fruit salad, and my dad is carrying the Crock-Pot with baked beans.”
“Mom’s setting everything up in the garage.” She looks past me when a car door slams. “Liam just pulled up. See ya later.” She practically pushes me out of the way to run to Liam. I watch as she jumps into his arms, and he takes a step back to keep from falling. He smiles down at her before leaning down and kissing her. I want that. I want someone to love me so much they don’t care who's watching and still kisses me like it’ll be the last time. I shake my head and walk to the garage.
It’s a beautiful day today. The forecast says it’s supposed to be seventy-four and sunny, a rarity in the Midwest. I set down the bowl of fruit in the garage and take the opportunity to catch up with my Aunt Sally. I haven’t seen much of her since I’ve been back. We talk for a while, and when more guests start to arrive, I excuse myself and go back outside. The sun blinds me as I step out of the garage and run into somebody.
“I’m so sorry.” I look up and see a guy with his hair slicked back and a gold chain around his neck. He’s either in the mafia or thinks it's a different generation.
“S’all good.” He grabs my arms to steady me and the rough callouses on his fingers scrape across my skin, sending chills down my spine. He holds onto me for a minute longer and gives a wink before releasing me. I turn quickly and walk away, but when I look back, he’s still watching me. Gross.
The barbecue is a great time, and everyone is having fun. My aunt and uncle have a huge yard, and it’s set up almost like a carnival. People are playing corn hole and badminton. The brats and burgers cooking smell delicious. Pierce is carrying logs to the back of the yard to start the bonfire since it’s starting to get dark. I decide to follow him and help light the fire. I love the smell of a campfire. Besides, I haven’t seen much of him since I’ve been back either, and I’m hoping to squeeze a little information about Travis out of him.
As I’m walking, I pass the guy I ran into earlier. I swear I feel his hand on my butt and freeze. When I turn around, he’s looking right at me and winks again. I start to feel very uncomfortable and quicken my pace to Pierce.
