by L. A. Sable
I nod at Kai, who’s tossing a beach ball back and forth with Charlie and Asher. “Kai has already offered to make it up to me. What are you willing to do?”
“If I say that I’ll do whatever you want, would you take it seriously?”
“Probably not,” I reply, smiling in spite of myself.
“Then I’ll just have to wait for the right opportunity to prove myself.” He tosses the bottle of sunscreen onto the deck chair, then takes off the baseball cap he’s wearing and sits it on my head. “Your back is done.”
I touch the brim with the tips of my fingers. “What’s this?”
He grins. “Just consider it the hat I’m throwing into the ring.”
Without waiting for my response, Jayden turns on his heel, climbs up on the diving board and executes a perfect swan dive into the deep end of the pool. I’d be impressed if I hadn’t spent the last two months watching championship dives being performed during my P.E. class with Mr. Cardill.
Trish picks that moment to come sauntering out of the house in a skimpy two-piece and carrying a tray of colorful drinks with plastic umbrellas in each glass. “Who’s ready for a cocktail?”
“Mom, are you serving us alcohol?” I ask, taken back.
“Of course not, what do you take me for? There’s a splash of rum in mine, but the rest of these are virgin. I guess I could have called them mocktails, but that sounds a little silly, don’t you think?”
Trish has always been an energetic person, but since I’ve been back, it’s impossible not to notice how much more sped up she seems, like her speech and actions are a little faster than her mind can keep up with.
She puts the tray of drinks on a table and then comes to sit next to me on the lounger, forcing me to scoot down or be crushed up against her.
“I missed you. It’s good to see you.” I’d gotten out of the habit of talking to her daily when she went on her honeymoon and never fell back into it. We’ve only spoken on the phone a handful of times since school started and I can’t stop a twinge of guilt. It’s not that I don’t want to talk, but it’s too hard when I’m keeping so much from her. “How’s Carter?”
Trish waves her hand in the air and the giant diamond on her ring finger blazes like a ball of fire when it catches in the sunlight. “Out of town on a business thing, like always. Honestly, I can barely keep track with what he has going on these days.”
“He’s gone a lot, huh?”
Trish just nods and shrugs, as if it doesn’t matter to her one way or another. But I can see right through that. If nothing else, Trish is a people person. She craves social interaction in the same way that fish need water to survive. I can only imagine how stir crazy she’s going in the house all by herself.
“So tell me all about school,” Trish says, taking a long slurp from the glass in her hand. “Are things still not going so well?”
“It’s been better lately.” I can’t help myself from glancing back over to the pool. Charlie is treading water in the deep end while the guys play chicken on the other side, with the twins pitting themselves against Asher and Jayden. It’s like a scene out of a teen movie. “A lot better, actually.”
“Oh.” For a moment, Trish seems almost disappointed. “Because I was thinking that if you’re still miserable, maybe it would make sense for you to come live here with me and go to the public school. It really tore me up when you told me how unhappy you’ve been.”
“I thought you said that the chance to be at Black Lake is something I can’t turn down.”
Trish shrugs and the strap of her bikini top slips slightly down her tanned shoulder. She’s lost weight. “There are lots of opportunities in life. I just don’t want you to be all alone and miserable.”
It has to be some cruel twist of fate. Now that I feel like I finally have a handle on how things work at Black Lake, she offers me the thing that I would have jumped to take literally a few days ago. Part of me is actually looking forward to getting back to campus and really figuring out what’s going on with the guys, so now would be the time when Trish is finally willing to let me transfer schools.
The irony would be hilarious if it wasn’t my life that we’re talking about.
“I’m not miserable, Mom. Really.” Although I have a sinking suspicion that she is. “What have you been doing with yourself these days?”
“Not much. I joined the local rotary club, but that might be the most boring group of women I’ve ever met in my entire life. There are only so many lunches and shopping trips that one person needs in their life. And I don’t exactly fit in with the Connecticut WASP set, if you know what I mean.”
If the women she’s been spending time with are anything like their children, then I know exactly what she means. The students from Black Lake didn’t just appear in the world, they had to come from somewhere. Reaching for Trish’s hand, I give it a squeeze. “Have you thought about going back to work?”
But she just shakes her head. “Carter would never allow it. How would that look?”
I can’t help but think that the Trish I know would never worry about what her husband allows. “He’d want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” Trish says with a forced smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I have this lovely house to live in and I’m spending time with my favorite girl, so there’s nothing to worry about. But just remember that if things get too rough at that hoity-toity school, you always have a place with me.”
“I know.”
This conversation is so unlike what I expected that I’m not sure how to respond. Like always, I have an overwhelming urge to protect her, the same feeling that I’ve always felt to make her happy her rises up in me.
But I don’t want to leave Black Lake, not now that things are actually going well for me.
Before I can put any of my conflicting emotions into words, we’re interrupted. The housekeeper appears at Trish’s shoulder with a cordless phone in her hand. “It’s for you, Mrs. Bellamy.”
Trish’s eyes light up. “Is it Carter?”
“I don’t believe so, ma’am.”
But she gets up anyway and grabs the phone. “I better take this inside. Don’t stay out here too long, Lily. You’ll bake like a loaf of rye bread.”
I watch her hurry back into the house, brow furrowed. Something about the tense set of her shoulders makes me suspicious. Who could be on the other end of the line that Trish wouldn’t take the call out here or have the housekeeper take a message?
“Hey, Lily,” Jayden calls from the edge of the pool, pulling me from my reverie. “Pass me one of those drinks.”
“Yeah, sure.”
When I get up to give it to him, Jayden grabs my hand. “You coming in? The water is very nice.”
“In a minute,” I say, pulling away. “I’m just going to run inside real quick.”
The need to know what’s going on with Trish is like an itch that has to be scratched. It’s almost certainly nothing, but everything about her is so different that I can’t fight the urge to be suspicious of what she’s up to.
My feet are silent on the tile floor when I slip inside the house. Despite the size of the place, Trish isn’t difficult to find. She’s always been someone with no volume control when she talks on the phone so I simply have to follow the sound of her voice.
I find her in the library and stop at the edge of the half-closed door, blatantly listening.
“No. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him, Frank.”
Frank?
It’s not possible to make out what’s said on the other end, but the voice is definitely male.
“Carter was only back for a few days last week before leaving again. It just didn’t seem like the right time.”
Another garbled response comes from the other end, the voice sounds almost angry.
“I know I promised to help and I will. You just have to give me time. Yeah, okay. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Trish hangs up the phone
with a sigh. I know the best thing to do would be to sneak away and pretend that I didn’t hear anything, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I have to know what’s going on.
“Who is Frank?” I ask, pushing open the door.
She nearly jumps out of her skin and presses a hand to her heart. “Jesus, Lily. You scared the shit out of me.”
I step further into the room and then close the door behind me. “Who were you just talking to on the phone? Tell me.”
Trish bites down on the corner of her lip and I watch the play of emotions cross her face. I know her well enough that I can tell she briefly considers lying to me, but her natural inclination toward the truth takes over. “That was Frank Bellamy.”
“Frank Bellamy,” I practically shriek the name. When she winces, I take a breath to calm myself and lower my voice. “That’s Asher’s father. Carter cut him off for embezzling money from stockholders Why are you talking to him?”
“He reached out to me a few weeks ago. You have no idea how bad he feels about all of that unpleasantness and he swears it was one mistake that snowballed out of control. He asked for my help in reconciling with Carter. I couldn’t say no.”
“Mom…”
“Families are supposed to be together.”
“But you shouldn’t be involving yourself in this, especially if it means keeping secrets from your husband.” Trish has always seen the best in people, it’s both her greatest strength and greatest weakness. And her boredom makes her want to take on a pet project, which makes it easy to take advantage of her. “And maybe Carter isn’t ready to forgive him.”
“Frank made a mistake, everyone does. Most people are decent and caring, once you get to know them. You just have to give them the chance to be their best selves.”
Not all people, I tell myself, thinking of Chloe Devlin. I’m pretty sure she’s evil all the way down.
But I’ve protected Trish from herself before and I’ll do it again if I have to. “You need to be honest with Carter. Let him decide if he wants anything to do with the son who stole from him. Don’t put yourself in the middle, okay.”
“I know, you’re right.” She steps forward to wrap me in a lightly perfumed hug, at least her signature scent hasn’t changed even if so much else has. “I’ll talk to Carter about it the next time he’s home.”
“Good.” I say with relief, stepping back. “Are you coming back outside?”
“Oh, you go ahead. I don’t want to be a bother when you’re with your friends.”
I search her face for a second, looking for any indication that there’s something more than what she’s saying. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. Go. Enjoy the pool while the weather is still nice. We’ll be closing it up for the season soon.”
Against my better judgment, I leave her alone in the library. But my mind stays in turmoil. I have to find out what’s going on.
Chapter 15
It’s after midnight when I finally work up the courage to knock on Asher’s door. I had to wait until Charlie fell asleep. We had stayed up talking for a while before she finally went to bed in a guest room. I know Asher is still awake, judging from the glow that’s visible at the bottom of the door. Unless he makes a habit of sleeping with the light on, which is just weird enough that I wouldn’t put it past him.
My hand is in the air to knock again when the door swings open.
Asher stands in the doorway without a shirt on and his feet bare, wearing only a pair of drawstring pants. A brief look of surprise crosses his face, before the normal scowl descends on his features. “What do you want?”
I take a shaky breath, praying for courage. “Can I come in?”
Asher gives me a long once-over, taking in my flannel pajamas and the hair gathered on top of my head in a messy bun. “Fine.”
He turns on his heel and goes back to the bed which is covered in papers like he’s been working on something.
“Thank you.” With a shaking hand, I close the door behind me as I step into the room. Although the house is full of other people that would come running at the first scream, I can’t fight the sensation that I’m entering the lair of a wild animal or the belly of the beast.
Picking up a pencil, Asher goes back to scribbling on the notebook in front of him, ignoring me. I take the opportunity to look around his room, as I fight the urge to turn tail and run. The space is a mass of contradictions, just like the person who lives in it.
There’s a bookshelf against the wall, full of volumes that are neatly organized by size and color, as if the person who put them there cared more about how they looked together than having them in alphabetical order. But the desk next to it is a mess, covered in so many papers, food wrappers and other random items that it’s basically unusable. The floor is clean, but I can see a huge pile of clothes in the closet and there’s no way to know if it’s dirty or clean.
Evidence of a mind with warring impulses.
“What do you want?” Asher asks on a sigh, breaking the long moment of silence.
“We need to talk.”
“Look, if this is about what happened at the lake—”
I rush to cut him off. “It’s not.”
He finally looks up, eyes narrowed. “What is it about then?”
“Your father.”
“And why would I talk to you about him?” His tone is more curious than vicious as he tilts his head to the side and regards me with eyes that blaze green fire. “Why would I talk to you about anything?”
“Because I’m asking nicely. And because, even though you hate me, you’re tired of being at war with me for no good reason.”
He taps the end of his pencil on the bed, the only sign he gives of agitation. “I’m not at war with you.”
“Your exact words were that you’d do anything to get me to go back where I came from.”
“That isn’t the same as war. You’re at war with Chloe, maybe, but she holds a grudge like it’s her favorite hobby.”
“Then what is it then?”
“Have you ever thought about why I’ve been trying so hard to get you to leave?” Asher pushes the notebook off of his lap and stands up from the bed. I can’t fight the sensation that he looms over me in the confined space. “Maybe I have reasons other than hate.”
“Tell me what they are then.”
Asher takes a step closer, enough that it’s an invasion of my personal space. I have to make a decision whether to back up against the door. But I stand my ground, even though he’s close enough that I can feel the crazy amount of heat emanating off his skin. “And who says that I owe you an explanation?”
“I do.”
“So you want something from me.” His voice darkens, smoldering eyes watching me in the dim light. “What will you give me for it?”
My mouth opens and closes again as I try to formulate a response. I almost prefer the mean and hateful Asher who seemed content with calling me names and setting me up for public embarrassment. I simply don’t understand the darkly seductive Asher who seems as likely to screw me up against the wall as he is to put a knife through my chest. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“It’s called a quid pro quo. You want something from me, so you have to give me something in return.”
I feel like we’re back in the dark outside of the boathouse, except there’s no one to put a stop to whatever is coming next and I can see the play of emotions cross his face. And just like the last time, because my brain stops functioning when he’s this close to me and staring me down, I use the same words that already got me into trouble. “What do you want?”
“You.”
His answer is supposed to scare me away from the question that he doesn’t want to answer. I can’t help but notice that his golden blonde hair falls in feathered waves around his face, but there are dark circles under his eyes like he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. I wonder if he looks like his father or if he takes after the mother who passed away when he was a baby.
There has to be more underneath.
“Are you drunk?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“Not this time.”
His gaze never breaks from mine, but his body is tense as if he’s a coiled snake about to strike. Except when I reach up to touch his cheek with the tips of my fingers, blue-veined eyelids flutter ever so slightly like the gossamer wings of a butterfly. There’s almost a prettiness to his features. I wonder if he hides a softened core underneath a layer of hardness. In that moment, I imagine him as a glass sculpture, hard and beautiful but also fragile. He’ll break apart if too much force is applied. But the skin underneath my fingers is silken and textured, with so much heat rising off it that I can easily imagining it burning.
And the pain and fear that I see burning in his gaze, emotions that he’s worked so hard to hide, is what finally makes my decision. There’s more than hate there now.
Using the palms of my hands, I cup those smooth cheeks and lean closer. There isn’t any thought behind my actions, because I’m no longer in conscious control of myself. This is all instinct. My body has become a treacherous thing that does only what it wants.
There’s no alcohol or peer pressure to blame for this moment, for either of us. And the explosion that we’ve been building toward since the moment we met is moments from consuming everything in its path
My lips brush his as lightly as a whisper in the wind. Initially, he doesn’t respond, standing as still as a statue. But then his mouth opens under mine, and his tongue slips out to trace the curve of my bottom lip.
The kiss turns more heated. Asher uses his mouth like a weapon, pressing hard enough that I can feel the sharp edge of his teeth. He tastes like anger and longing, spice and sugar, unlike anything that I’ve ever experienced before. His body forces mine back against the door until I’m trapped by the weight of his body. I hear a low moan but it’s impossible to know which of us produced the sound.
