by Coralee June
“What am I doing? What are you doing here?” I asked before crossing my arms over my chest. Lance at least had the decency to seem confused by my change in direction, but Decker held still, looking at my father up and down like a predator.
“You disappeared at four in the morning. We thought you ran away or were abducted. You can’t just leave without letting us know,” Lance said, and I felt my father relax beside me.
My heart softened a bit, but the tender moment disappeared the moment Decker’s voice broke through. “Didn’t realize you were meeting a fuck buddy,” he growled. Dad squared up, fists flexed like he was about to land himself back in prison. I placed a hand on his chest before turning my attention back to Decker.
“Decker, meet my dad, Frank Stewart. Dad, meet asshole and my brother, Lance.”
Simultaneously, Lance relaxed and Decker paled, realizing his disgusting mistake. “Shit, I’m sorry, Blakely. We were just so worried. It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Lance said in a cautionary tone, giving Decker the side-eye before walking forward and stretching his hand out for a handshake. He searched Dad’s expression like he was looking for something, and it confused me until my father responded.
“Nice to meet you, Lance. I’m not your father, by the way. Met Sharron three years before Blakely was born,” Dad replied lamely while shaking Lance’s hand.
“Oh, yes, of course,” Lance replied, a blush on his face. “Are you h-here to take Blakely?” I stared at my brother, completely and utterly shocked at the anxiety pouring from his pores. His eyes were wild, his head pelted with sweat.
“Nah. I’m still getting on my feet. Just got out of prison for killing a man.” My father gave Decker a pointed stare, likely trying to scare him.
“Shut up, you robbed a store,” I replied with an eye roll. Apparently, this wasn’t nearly as calming on Lance’s nerves because he gulped.
“Well, you should come over for dinner sometime.”
Dad dragged his eyes back from Decker to stare at my brother again. “Sounds like a plan.” Dad then turned to wrap me up in one more hug. “See ya, kid. Love you. Give the geniuses hell,” he whispered into my hair before turning away and walking out of the restaurant.
Once Dad was fully out of sight, I turned a snarl at Decker and Lance. “Why are y’all here?” I asked in a huff before walking past them and out of the restaurant. People were watching, and I wanted to go home to get a couple hours of sleep until my shift at Huck-a-poos.
Decker and Lance followed after me, all the way to my car. When they didn’t answer my question, I spun around to face them. “Do you need a ride or something?”
“You can’t just leave without telling us,” Decker gritted before cracking his knuckles in aggravation. It made my eye twitch.
“Sure I can. You never set rules about where and when I could go,” I countered.
“Well, maybe we should,” Lance piped up, his voice cautious but...sad. “Look, I just want to be informed of stuff like this. I know you aren’t used to telling someone what you’re up to, but I was worried sick.”
For the first time tonight, I actually felt bad. He wasn’t wrong. I never had anyone to care about me, let alone anyone that cared enough to want to know what I was up to. My eyes slid over to Decker, and I was met with sharp, dark eyes. What the fuck was his problem? It was an honest mistake.
“I’m sorry. He called out of the blue. I’m as shocked as you are that he’s here. But I haven’t seen him in years. I didn’t want to wake you up or bother you.”
“We thought you’d run away, Blakely,” Lance whispered. “I want to know what’s going on in your life. I want to support you. I don’t care what time it is, just let me know first, okay?”
I let out a shaky exhale before responding. Decker took a couple of steps forward until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Lance, looking like an imposing bodyguard. “I like it here, okay? I was hesitant at first, but I don’t have plans to leave soon. I want to go to school. I want to get on my feet the right way and...I want to get to know you better, Lance.”
“And I want to know you!” he rushed out. “Look, I know you’ve been telling me a lot about our mother, and I really appreciate it. But from now on, I want to know about you, and I want to include you more in my life, too.”
His confession shocked the hell out of me. All this time, I thought the only reason Lance was keeping me around was because of some deep-seated need to understand the mother that gave him up. I knew he was kind and compassionate—maybe even too much. But I thought all I had to offer was lies about Mama. What would he do if he learned about me and found out I wasn’t someone worth keeping around?
“Don’t look so scared. You’re my sister,” he began before placing a hand on my shoulder. “I missed out on knowing you, too. But the truth is, she’s dead and you’re not. So let’s try and make new memories now. Trust me, and in turn I’ll trust you. If everything weren’t so new, I probably wouldn’t have jumped to such scary conclusions tonight. I think the more we get comfortable with one another, the better off we’ll be.”
I nodded. “Fair enough.”
Lance let out a sigh of relief, and once again I felt bad for worrying him needlessly. I’d make an effort to remember that someone actually gave a shit in the future. Decker still looked pissed, like he had unresolved anger regarding what happened brimming under the surface. If he had any opinions about my dad and his past, I’d have to set things straight.
“Good, good. How about I go get us some coffee? I know you have to be at work in a couple of hours and must be exhausted. What’s your favorite?”
I smiled. He really would be making an effort to know me. “The sweetest, most sugary concoction you can find. I’m talking two thousand calories a sip.”
Lance let out a tired laugh. “As you wish.”
“I’ll ride home with Blakely. I want to get some sleep,” Decker replied in a rush. Oh hell no. I was not about to sit in a tiny car with him. Not after what happened at the carnival and certainly not with his sour expression stuck somewhere between kissing and punishing me.
“Did y’all coordinate this ahead of time? Something tells me you want to make sure I actually go home.”
Lance bloomed a bright blush, and Decker gave an unforgiving scowl.
I opened my mouth to scold them both, but Lance interrupted me. “Perfect,” Lance replied with a clap of his hands, ignoring my question. “I’ll meet y’all at the loft.” Spinning on his heels, Lance headed toward his Land Rover but paused to give Decker a meaningful look that had my stomach plummeting. Did he know?
Decker nodded, which seemed to be enough for Lance because he smiled at me, then got in his car, which I’d just noticed was parked diagonally behind mine, blocking me in.
“Your idea?” I asked while nodding at the SUV.
“Get in the car, Blakely,” he growled. So that’s how he wanted to do things? Fine.
I got in Roxy and slammed the door shut. If I had automatic locks, I would have locked Decker out just to fuck with him, but alas, I didn’t. He shoved his giant frame into the compact passenger seat without a word as Lance drove off.
“You’re not going to leave because of what happened between us, right?” was the first thing that escaped his pursed lips, confusing me.
“That’s why you look like you have a stick shoved up your ass?” I asked while putting the key in the ignition and turning on my car. It took two tries but roared to life with a wheeze.
“Answer my question,” he gritted. Bossy bastard.
“No. I’m not leaving because we had a lackluster kiss on a deathtrap. It meant nothing, it means nothing. You can sleep with a guilt-free conscious, because you aren’t the first kiss I’ve ever had, and you won’t be the last.” I backed out of my parking spot and headed back to the loft, feeling like a lying liar pants because it was far from nothing. It was something. It was one of those kisses you’d be thinking about on your deathbed. A magical touch that had me wet
and aching whenever I thought about it, but I sure as fuck wouldn’t be admitting that to Decker. What was the point? His loyalty was to my brother, and if I wanted to build a relationship with Lance and complete my school year in Memphis, I needed to play the role I was meant to play.
He let out a groan before thrusting his hands through his hair. “That’s how you want to play this?” he asked.
“I didn’t realize there was any other way. You obviously regret it. You care about Lance. It was nothing, Decker. Absolutely nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing, and you know it,” he whispered while leaning over the center console to brush his lips against my ear. His touch sent my body into a frenzy, making me worry that I would drive into oncoming traffic.
“What are you doing?” I gritted, breathing in his smell. He placed his hand on my leg, curving his palm against my inner thigh as he spoke again.
“Proving that it wasn’t nothing,” he rasped.
“Why?” I was squirming in my driver’s seat, feeling hot and needy but knowing it couldn’t work. This could never work. I barely knew Decker, and what little I did know was that anything between us would make him resent me. I didn’t want to tear apart his friendship. I already felt like I was upheaving Lance’s life by moving to Memphis; ruining their friendship would be too much. Decker was loyal to a fault to Lance. I refused to be anyone’s dirty little secret or regret. I spent my entire life with someone that resented me, and I would rather die than experience that again.
“Because I know you want me, Blakely. It’s written all over your face. I can practically feel your heat in my palm.”
“So you’re good with your hands,” I said before removing one of my clenched fists from the steering wheel to shove him away. “But it doesn’t mean anything. Are you hot? Sure. I’m wet right now thinking about all the things your talented fingers could do while I drive us home. But I won’t be acting on it.”
Decker sucked in a gasp before pulling back to his seat. I noticed how he braced his hands under his thighs, as if forcing himself not to touch me. “Good. I was testing you,” he choked out. Guess we both were terrible liars.
“Bullshit. You want me, too. But it’s not going to happen. You love Lance like a brother. You’re about to be my goddamn teacher. If you’re insistent on having the awkward…talk about what this means, then you got it. It’s nothing. It will be nothing. It’ll lead to nothing. I’m not some immature girl you have to worry about developing a crush on you.”
I’d hoped that my little speech would make Decker relax, but he was still riled up. “Nothing,” he replied.
“Yup.”
“Glad we’re on the same page.”
My heart panged at his easy agreement. Despite it all, I wanted him to fight for me, as selfish as that sounded. I quickly changed the subject so as not to dwell on the pain wracking my chest. “So is this the part where you try to scare my dad off? Say he’s some hardened criminal after Lance’s money?” I asked.
“No. He proved he didn’t give a shit about Lance when he said he wasn’t his father. If he wanted his money, he’d have tried to push that. I actually think it’s admirable he came here.” Well, color me shocked. “Don’t look so surprised. If he does anything suspicious, I’ll handle it. But for now, he seems like a protective dude.”
Decker’s earlier words rang in my head. I had to fight back a smile as I spoke. “And for the record, gross about the fuck buddy comment.” Decker paled. That’s right, asshole. I hadn’t forgotten that jealous outburst. “I’ve dated older men, but he’s twice my age. Give me some credit.” I shivered for effect.
“You’ve dated older men? I find that hard to believe. Last we spoke, you said you didn’t go for old guys, remember?” Decker asked, and it wasn’t the question I was expecting.
“I was ruffling your feathers, and obviously it worked. When you’re forced to grow up at a young age, the immature bullshit loses its appeal. I prefer a man who knows what he’s doing.” I pulled into the parking garage at Lance’s loft and turned off the car, exiting with that little bit of information ringing in the air between us. Just because there would never be anything between us didn’t mean I couldn’t fuck with him.
“There’s one more thing, then I promise the talk can be over,” he choked out as I paused at the elevators.
“What?”
“Lance thinks you might have a crush on me.” He looked like he wanted to say more and pursed his lips, like it was the only thing keeping the truth back. I had half a mind to kiss him just to force his mouth open, but decided against it.
Great. Just fucking great. “And?”
“And he wants me to stay away.”
Well, that was an easy enough fix. “Sounds good to me. No more Ferris wheels. No more lingering stares. No more truths.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, then spoke again, conceding, “No more truths.”
11
Blakely
My school uniform was typical and unoriginal. I got dressed like the violent skeptic I was, pretending my lip gloss was armor, while hiding a pocket knife in my knee-high leather boots given to me by Rose. The standard uniform consisted of a plaid skirt paired with a button-up shirt that was too tight and clung to my curves.
The strangely sexualized material was too thick for this Memphis weather and scratched my skin, the coarse fibers irritating and claustrophobic. It looked straight out of a depressing school-girl porno. I half expected myself to start begging Decker to spank me as I lay across his desk.
I looked sexy in a creepy sort of way, but it was not my style. I added a little personality to the ensemble with boots that made my legs seem longer. I also made it a point to brush out my hair with cautious strokes and apply mascara.
It was the longest I’d ever taken to get ready.
If I was going to be the new student, I wanted to look beautiful. Might as well roll with the inevitable attention I’d get. Mama and I had moved a couple of times. I knew the drill.
Once, she dated a wealthy judge that lived in the Dallas suburbs. We moved into his house and lasted a total of six weeks before everything went to hell. The students there were terrible, always taunting me and calling Mama and me a two-for-one whore’s bargain. I spent most nights crying in my room until one day, I snapped.
I beat up a rich bitch that wouldn’t let up. We were kicked out of his house the next day. Judge Gray couldn’t handle a stain on his reputation. Apparently, a live-in hooker was fine, but her bratty child was too much. Mama blamed me for ruining the cushiest living situation she’d had in years.
It spoke volumes about her priorities.
After making sure I was ready for battle, I went out into the kitchen for breakfast and saw an omelet waiting on the table for me. “Morning! Happy first day of school!” my brother said, drawing me out of the tornado of self-pity and anxiety I was sucked up in. I felt like a car with its metal frame wrapped around a light pole. I guess in this scenario, he was the rescue team pulling my suit of skin off the pavement.
Lance was dancing around the kitchen, all brightness and energy. He snapped his towel against the wooden cabinets as he moved. “You made me an omelet?” I asked with a small smile, and I could practically feel the chip in my pessimistic armor grow bigger. It was the first morning I hadn’t had to choke down pancakes since getting here, aside from the breakfast Decker made me.
“Decker mentioned you might like it,” Lance replied cryptically. Oh, did he now? I wondered what else they liked to talk about. I thought Mr. Harris was supposed to keep away from me, not leak my secrets from the bottom of his Styrofoam coffee cup.
“Where is he, by the way?” I asked.
I wanted to see him, but I didn’t.
I wanted reassurance about today, but he likely wouldn’t give it.
“Probably waiting until the last minute to wake up. Decker is grieving the end of summer.”
“That makes two of us,” I replied with a chuckle. Grief was such an odd
emotion. I could feel sorrow for the end of summer but couldn’t bolster enough sadness to cry over Mama.
I gave Lance a brief smile before sitting down at the table and taking a bite of the omelet. It was delicious. He’d even added bell pepper, my favorite.
Lance leaned on the kitchen island, his sleeves rolled up and his hair still a mess from sleep. “You excited?” he asked. I chewed the food in my mouth until it turned to liquid sludge, mulling over my emotions before responding to him.
“Yes. I’m nervous though. It was easy to be the smartest kid in class at my old school—there wasn’t much competition. Here? I might not be able to keep up.” That wasn’t so hard.
Since the night I left to visit my father, Lance had been making more of an effort to ask about me and not Mama. I wasn’t sure what I preferred. In some ways, lying about Mama had kept him at a distance. I’d been crafting verbal shields around myself since I could talk. I was starting to realize that it was another way I tried to distinguish myself from Mama. People paid pennies for her soul. I never wanted to feel cheap.
Lance smiled like he understood my fears. “You’ll do great. And if you need extra help, I can tutor you. Decker can even point you toward student resources,” Lance replied.
“What are you volunteering me for?” a rugged voice asked. I turned to stare at Decker and nearly dropped the steaming cup of coffee in my hands. He looked damn good and was wearing a suit that should be fucking illegal. It was navy and complemented his tan skin and dark, haunted eyes. His hair was still wet from his shower, and he ran a hand through it with a yawn before sitting across from me. Lance set a plate and a cup of coffee in front of him before patting him on the shoulder.
“I was just telling Blakely that you’d help her find a tutor if she feels like she’s falling behind,” Lance said in an overly sweet tone. “ ’Cause you’re just so helpful and kind, right?”