Erin shakes her head, picking up her tube of mascara from the bathroom counter. “I wanted to die.”
We’re silent for a moment as she fiddles with the wand. Then she turns back around, looking at me. “It wasn’t crazy, though, not like the time you jumped off that cliff because Michael King dared you.”
“He was a jerk.”
“He liked you though.”
“He had a strange way of showing it,” I retort.
Erin hesitates. “All the boys liked you. You just never noticed. You’re so … unobtainable. And so reckless. And beautiful as all hell.”
“Erin—”
“But still so freaking stupid.” Her eyebrows turn to angry slashes. “Like the time you set fire to the back fence in your yard and the fire brigade got called.”
My heart jerks at the mention of it. I’d wanted to destroy every memory of Bear I had. I thought burning the fence would stop his voice inside my head. All it took was two shots of vodka for courage and a packet of matches. But he still speaks to me. And here I am, two years later, talking back to him as if he’s still here. “I was angry.”
“You know most people don’t turn into arsonists when someone pisses them off. And now here’s your stupidest stunt of all.” Her arms sweep out wide, and an eyelash curler clatters to the tiles below. “Joining the freaking army.”
“It’s not stupid. It’s—”
“Stupid.”
“Erin.” She turns back to the mirror and tilts her head, brushing the mascara wand over her lashes. “Maybe you’re right.” Her hand stills and her eyes flick to my reflection in the mirror. “But I don’t know what else to do.”
A frustrated sound escapes her throat, and she spins back around. “In case you forgot … there’s a war in Afghanistan! Soldiers are getting sent to fight. Some of them aren’t coming home alive!”
Fear twists my stomach. It’s all I’ve thought about. Apart from Bear. “I know, but there’s something you seem to have forgotten.”
“And what’s that?” she throws out, her tone bitter.
“I was raised by the greatest fighter there was. It’s what I do best.”
Her bottom lip wobbles, and I know it’s the right time to tell her the second phase of my plan. It will take her mind from the first. “There’s just one thing I need to do before I go.”
She breathes in, her nostrils flaring. “What’s that?”
“Lose my virginity.”
Her eyes widen all over again, flickering with a hint of something that looks suspiciously like excitement. “Girl,” she says and holds up a hand. We high-five each other, and she giggles. “I have no idea how you held out this long. My clit would literally explode if I waited like you have. But with who?”
Make sure you give yourself to a good guy.
My breath escapes in a huff. Shut up, Bear. This is the one thing I was holding on to for you, the one thing I kept safe, but you left and you never came back like I hoped you would. You have no say now. It’s mine to do with what I will.
“I’ve thought about it,” I say. “And I’m leaving tomorrow. I don’t want a relationship. I don’t want it to be special. And I know what an orgasm feels like.” My cheeks heat at the admission, and Erin’s lips form a smirk. “I just want to know what sex is like, and I don’t want to join the army a freaking virgin.”
Erin nods. “Okay.” I can see her mind ticking over, her eyes sweeping over my face and body as if assessing what kind of work I’ll need. A lot, I imagine. I want to look sexy and sure. I definitely don’t want to look like a virgin. “It needs to be with someone who knows what they’re doing.”
Erin told me her first time was a complete dud, even though she tried to make it special. Most girls do, right? She said it was messy and awkward, but it was his first time too, so neither knew what they were doing. Their budding romance fizzled soon after. She moved on to Bradley, a boy from our neighbouring school. He was already a rumoured player at seventeen and apparently those rumours appeared to be true, considering Erin described her first two proper orgasms in precise detail.
She rifles through her makeup bag, plucking out an eyeshadow palette with smoky shades. The dark colours scream sex. She swipes a brush through the charcoal square first and comes at my face. Before the little implement touches my lid, she pauses, her gaze flicking down to my eyes. “Are you sure about this?”
“One hundred percent.”
A gleeful grin widens her lips. “Sweaty hairy ballsacks and all?”
“Oh god.” I laugh. “Bring it.”
It takes an hour to complete the transformation, but when Erin steps away from me for the last time and I check the mirror, my hair hangs down my back in loose waves, as if I swam in the ocean and left it to dry in the sun. My eyelids are shaded from black to metallic brown, my lashes dark and curled. Erin swept powder along my cheekbones, forehead, and chin, giving me a sun-kissed glow. The look was finished with a nude lipstick, masking the natural pink tone and allowing my eyes to be the focus.
My face appears confident and sultry—so basically nothing like me—and definitely not a girl anymore. More like a woman who knows what she’s doing. “It’s perfect.”
Erin nods because of course it is. She’s already a master before even starting her cosmetology training next year. Erin will study makeup, hairstyling, and skin care, and one day open her own spa. My best friend already has her purpose. It’s time to find mine. “Let’s go.”
“What is this place?” I half-yell as the cab zooms off behind us, burning rubber in the quest to reach his next lot of passengers.
The bar in front of us is crammed with people. It features a windowless front, exposing its patrons to the chilly evening air and the wind sweeping in from the ocean across the road. They seem unaffected as the music ricochets outward. Its heavy beat vibrates my body, from my face to my boobs and straight to my vagina—where an anticipatory tingle begins to form. I want this. I do.
Erin grins and wiggles her shoulders, her eyelids flashing a glittery green, which only emphasises the blond of her hair. “A bar, Murphy.” She always uses my surname when she feels the need for sarcasm.
“Of course it’s a bar, Tennyson. I’ve just never noticed it before.”
“I’m told it’s where a lot of the army guys hang.”
I grit my teeth. “And that’s a good idea?”
“It’s a brilliant idea. They’re here for the same reason you are. A good time, not a long time.” She links her arm with mine. “There are no boys in this bar. Only men. Ones who’ve seen shitty things. Trust me. The men in here are the kind who are all about finding pleasure wherever they can get it.”
I rub my nude-painted lips together. “How do I look?”
She gives me the once-over, from my hair to the strapless black corset top, skinny black pants, and pointy nude heels. I feel so … exposed. “Hot. Like you’ll singe the skin off anyone who dares to touch you.”
We make our way inside, and Erin is not wrong.
Men.
Men everywhere.
Big ones.
All I see are broad shoulders and masculine bodies decorating every corner and crevice. My stomach clenches with nerves, but they’re definitely the good kind. I immediately catch a flash of golden-brown hair, and my heart stops. My eyes flick to the man. His gaze is on my boobs, his eyes brown when I’m looking for hazel.
Dammit, Bear, I growl internally, get the hell out of my head.
We reach the bar and order vodka sodas with lime. When they’re handed over, we clink them and grin at each other. “Cheers!”
“To losing your virgin status,” Erin adds, and we both giggle and clink again because this can’t happen soon enough.
I gave you two years, Bear. That’s more than enough time. Now it’s time to join the world again, just like you told me.
Taking a deep pull from my straw, I swallow, and warmth blooms in my belly. It feels good. I take another. And another. Soon the drink is gone as
we talk and move a little to the music. We order more and Erin leans in as we wait, talking loudly into my ear. “Seen anyone you like yet?”
I turn around, my eyes scanning over the men in the room. They land on one who’s watching me. He’s tall and good-looking, his hair dark and eyes blue, the complete opposite of— No. Not going there. I feel the guy out, offering a small smile.
He smiles back and I look away, my cheeks getting hot.
“Okay, don’t do that,” Erin says, taking my empty glass and handing me another.
“Do what?”
“Look away and blush. It screams ‘virgin,’” she air-quotes.
“Well I kinda am.”
“Well duh, but you said you didn’t want to look like one tonight, so try not to act like one either or he won’t approach.” Erin sneaks a look from the corner of her eye as she collects her drink. “He’s not looking anymore.”
My eyes find their way back to where he stands. He’s talking with a group of his friends now. One of them is just as tall, his shoulders broad, hair blond, his back to me. He’s wearing a grey cotton tee shirt, the lighter colour showing off thick muscle. I watch it bunch and flex as he gestures, my gaze stuck as he tells his story to his friends. They all laugh loudly. Then the dark-haired guy says something and glances my way, and I know he must have said something about me staring.
The blond man turns. He looks right at me and my heart skips a beat, something hot and impatient building inside me as he holds my gaze. I know in that instant.
Him.
I want that one.
There’s something in his green eyes, something intense and warm that sets my insides on fire. My lips find my straw, and I suck. He watches, those eyes flaring as I swallow. His jaw is strong and stubbled, his skin golden, his chest clearly defined beneath the casual cotton.
Then he releases my eyes. But only to track his own further down to my breasts pushed up and outward inside the corset top, my waist, hips, legs, and slowly back up. An extremely thorough, heated inventory. When that gaze returns to mine, it’s inflamed, but there’s also a hint of cheekiness, as if he wants to do wicked things to me and he’ll enjoy every minute of it as he does it.
Shivers skate down my body and across my arms, raising goose bumps.
“Excuse me,” I see his lips say to his friends, and then he starts towards me.
I take another sip of my vodka—a big one—as he gets closer.
“Oh Jesus, that one?” Erin says and turns away, lightly fanning herself in a way that only I can see. “It’s getting hot in here.”
“So freaking hot,” I mutter.
He’s attracted attention. Women are tracking his movements, and they aren’t being subtle, but his focus is on me, not deviating once as he walks my way. I lick my lips, nervous as he reaches my side, one of his big hands wrapped around a beer bottle.
He grins and right there I know that it is on. My legs turn to jelly beneath me.
“Hi,” he says, his voice deep and confident.
It makes my body parts throb with instant need. He waits for a response, but I can’t for the life of me remember what I’m supposed to say. Words seem foreign right now.
He leans in a little, and I breathe him in, catching the faint scent of cologne and soap. “Are you here with someone?”
“Just my friend Erin.” I wave my hand in her general direction. “No one else,” I think to add.
He nods, glancing from her and back to me, something like a satisfied glint in his eyes. Then he offers his hand. “I’m Jake. Jake Tanner.”
I slide my hand in his, and his fingers wrap around it, firm, warm, rough. My imagination instantly puts those hands on my bare skin, roaming downward, inside my underwear, one of those thick digits pushing its way inside me. I need to know what that feels like.
My cheeks heat and Jake squeezes gently, expelling a breath, waiting for something. “I’m Jamie,” I tell him. “Murphy,” I add after a pause.
“Would you and your friend like to join us, Jamie?”
Holy crap.
I’m really doing this.
This is happening.
His hand still holds mine, and it feels strong. Capable of things I’ve never even felt before.
“We would love to,” Erin says on my behalf, because it’s becoming apparent that I’m a massive failure when it comes to flirting.
Jake leads me over to their table, guiding me around groups of people, tables, and harried bar staff. I glance behind to make sure Erin is following. She catches my gaze and widens her eyes as she keeps pace behind us. “Hubba hubba,” she mouths and makes a kissy face. “You got this.” I get a discreet double-thumbs-up.
We arrive at our destination, and Jake introduces us to his friends. I briefly catch their names, but they flitter right out of my mind because he’s yet to let go of my hand. Instead, he pulls me closer and leans in again, his breath tickling my skin in the most delicious way as he speaks. “Tell me, Jamie Murphy. What are you doing in here tonight looking like that?”
I turn my face and it brings us close, close enough that when I whisper back he hears me over the noise. “What do you think I’m doing here?”
“Seems like you’re planning on breaking a whole bunch of hearts.”
“Not a bunch. Just one, maybe.”
Jake grins, clearly liking my response. “Tell me about yourself.”
I don’t want to mention my joining the army. I’m not sure why. Probably because the whole idea of leaving the only home I’ve ever known is terrifying. New faces again. New people. It’s going to be a whole different way of life, and I don’t want to think about it right now. I just want to live in the moment until I leave. “I’ve just finished school.”
Jake pulls back swiftly, releasing my hand with a furrow on his brow. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
His furrow clears. “You had me worried there for a minute.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“And you … live around here?” Smooth, Jamie. What a great question. I take a sip of my drink. Maybe more vodka will loosen me up a little better, ease some of the awkwardness.
“I do. Are you asking for a tour?”
You wanted this.
It’s now or never.
I draw in a deep breath of courage, trying to dispel the nervous energy. “That depends.”
“On what?”
I take another sip and realise my glass is empty. “On whether you’re offering one.”
Jake exhales heavily, his lips curving. “So it’s my heart you plan on breaking tonight then, is it? After I give you a tour of my place?”
“Jake, I …” My eyes cast downward. I know he’s teasing. He doesn’t literally believe I’ll break his heart, but I should probably tell him I only want tonight without somehow sounding like I sleep around with all the boys. Though who am I kidding? He probably wouldn’t give it a single thought. Guys are all about one-night stands, aren’t they? I need to stop overthinking this.
He tucks a thumb beneath my chin and tilts my head back up. I meet his eyes, seeing hesitation in his. “Maybe some other time?”
“No,” I say quickly and set my glass on the table beside us. “Tonight is good.”
Jake nods. “How about I buy you another drink first?” He takes my hand, lacing our fingers together. “Come to the bar with me?” I turn to let Erin know. She’s deep in conversation with one of the guys and another girl, who appears to be a friend of Jake’s friends. I lean into her ear so she can hear me better. “We’re just going to get another drink. Do you want one?”
She shakes her head and lifts her half-full drink with a wave.
“Be back.”
Jake leads me away, keeping me close as he forges a path through the throng. My bared cleavage rubs against his arm from behind. The contact sends a buzz of electricity through my body. He turns his head as we walk, giving me a heated glance, and I know he must have felt
it too.
God, is this how all sex begins? Because it’s almost unbearable. I want to push him down on the floor of this place and grind on him until pleasure rips me apart. I don’t think I’d even care who sees.
We reach the bar and Jake tucks me in beside him. He hasn’t quite thrown an arm around me in a territorial move, but it rests gently at my back, a subtle gesture to show we’re together. I like it. If anything it makes him hotter.
“What are you drinking?”
“Vodka and soda.”
He orders my beverage of choice and a beer for himself. Then he looks at me while we wait. “So, Jamie, I’m gonna be a little cliché and say I haven’t seen you in this place before. You grow up around here?”
“Mostly. We travelled a lot when I was younger, so I was home-schooled by tutors here and there, but otherwise, yeah, this is home. I’ve lived here all my life.”
“Same here, apart from all the travelling part. When did you turn eighteen?”
“Four days ago.”
“Only four days?” Jake grasps my chin and leans in.
He’s going to kiss me.
My heart stops.
“Happy birthday, gorgeous girl,” he says, and as the music beats heavily around us, and people yell loudly in their groups and glasses clink, his lips touch mine. I close my eyes and everything fades. I press myself into him until there’s no space between us.
For a moment it’s just us, his mouth on mine, his hand moving to grasp my hip, branding me with heat. He draws back and it’s like surfacing from beneath the ocean. Suddenly I’m breathing again and the din around us becomes loud once more.
“Thank you,” I croak and clear my throat.
It was the barest touch of our lips, but if that’s what kissing is all about, why is everyone not doing it all the freaking time?
“For what? The birthday wish or the kiss?”
“The kiss, but the birthday wish was almost as good.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
The bartender sets down our drinks, and Jake hands over a couple of notes in exchange. Then he picks up my drink and holds it out towards me. “For you.”
Fighting Absolution Page 5
