My brother’s face turned white. “Crap. I didn’t even think of that.”
“I’m kidding.”
“I’m not. We’ll stop at the drug store and pick up a test on the way home. Let’s hope you don’t have Satan’s spawn growing inside you. I am not ready to be an uncle, especially to his kid.”
“John,” I whined. “Why do you hate Rhett so much?”
His leg stopped shaking. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It kind of does.”
“Fine,” he groaned. “Because he slept with Shelley. And he kissed you when you were sixteen. Barely sixteen. Who does that? Like the girls his own age aren’t enough?”
“I kissed him,” I clarified.
“Doesn’t matter. He reciprocated.”
When John was eighteen he moved out of our parent’s house and into their beach house in the Outer Banks. Before that day, he’d been this clean-cut guy. He wore khakis and polo shirts. He was on a rowing team in high school. He got straight A’s and never did anything out of line. He was the product of private schools, raised by nannies and money. But then, as soon as that eighteenth birthday of his came along, he left. It had been a shock to my whole family. When he came back to visit the following Christmas, everything about him had changed. He had tattoos and piercings, wore skinny jeans and t-shirts of bands I didn’t know. And he was happier somehow—happier now that he’d become who he was supposed to be and not who everyone else wanted him to be. He also had a new girlfriend—Shelley.
They dated for almost five years. And then, just before I came to live with him, they broke up. I always thought their breakup had been my fault. I guess it had everything to do with Rhett.
“Did he sleep with Shelly while you were still with her?” I asked, looking for clarification.
“Yes. She fucked him. Then she ended it with me, telling me she wanted him instead. Then, when he didn’t actually want her for more than that one night, she came crawling back to me. I didn’t take her back, obviously, but I felt like shit for it. The details don’t matter. I don’t like the guy and I don’t like the way he uses women. And now I really hate him since he did the same thing with you.”
“But he didn’t do the same thing with me,” I argued. “And he’s been looking for me. That has to mean something.”
John huffed. “All that means is that you played him at his own game and his ego doesn’t know how to handle it. If you hadn’t ditched him, he wouldn’t give two shits about you, Sydney. Trust me. It simply is a matter of him wanting what he can’t have. Give it another week. He’ll be off screwing anything that comes into his bar again and you’ll be completely forgotten.”
That made me sick to my stomach.
“Don’t take it personally,” John added. “It’s him and his pea-sized intellect, not you.”
The nurse chose that moment to walk in with my test results.
Good news. I didn’t have HIV.
* * *
I wasn’t pregnant either. Which I already knew because Rhett had used a condom and the time of the month was all wrong. But, John being John, made me take a whole box worth of pregnancy tests just to be sure. All of which were negative. Then my period came the next day. A red flag— literally—that I didn’t have a Rhett, Jr. growing inside me.
I’d also received my chlamydia and gonorrhea results back from the clinic. Also, negative. So…end of the story…I didn’t get anything from Rhett. John had been overprotective for nothing. But he had been right about one thing. Another week had passed, and I’d completely stopped hearing about Rhett from random people.
I’d even ran into Noah a second time, in the middle of a shift at my waitressing job, and he flat-out asked me about Ben. He remembered seeing me at the funeral crying. So I told him the truth. I told him that I’d loved Ben. He seemed to genuinely care about my loss. But never once in our conversation did he mention Rhett.
More days passed. Then weeks.
I kept reminding myself that this is what I’d wanted, that I chose this, and that there was no other possible outcome to my one-night stand. But then, a few days before I was set to move across the state to Luke University, while John was at work and I was home alone, there was a sharp knock at the front door.
Our house in Corolla sat on twenty acres of wildlife preserve. The beach was private. The access road was private. ‘A hidden gem’ my Grandfather always called it. Needless-to-say, we never got visitors. Not even the mailman delivered packages—we had a PO Box in town. So when the knock came, naturally my senses were heightened.
Who could be all the way out here?
Only one name came to mind. Rhett. Because something inside me told me that he couldn’t let this go. That he was the kind of person who always had to have the last word. If it actually was him, I wasn’t sure how this conversation was about to go, or even if it would be civil. Underneath everything, I had a bit of a temper. And I had all these mixed feelings toward Rhett now. But as I walked to the door and let my hand hover over the door handle, the only thing I felt inside was…hope. Oddly enough.
I took a breath and opened the door.
It was him. With his hands in his pockets, sunglasses over his eyes, a fresh haircut, and a light blue shirt that matched his skin tone perfectly—there was Rhett on my porch. This smirk came to his lips. After all this time, after I snuck out of his bed without saying goodbye, he smiled at me like the reverse had happened, like he held all the power and I held none. I might have been annoyed by it too, but he had such a charismatic, beautiful smile that it kind of melted me. “You shouldn’t be here,” I warned.
“And yet, here I am.” He took off his sunglasses. Then he rocked back on his feet, still smiling, glancing up at the house. “You live in a damn mansion, princess.”
Princess? It shocked me that he used that nickname after he’d gone on and on about how it wasn’t good enough for me. So I had to conclude, he’d purposely used it as an insult.
“Princess?” I repeated, just to be sure.
“You heard me. Can I come in?” He took a step toward me.
I guarded that door the way I probably should have guarded my virtue. “Um, why don’t you tell me why you’re here first?”
Jesus, my heart was thumping so hard that I feared it might give out. My skin tingled and my chest felt all tight. And, worst of all, I was slightly turned on. Yes, turned on. Seeing him here now—my body, the traitor, was screaming at me with the need to be touched by him again. Like it remembered and suddenly had to have it, which was the most ridiculous thing ever.
“I’m here for a couple reasons,” he explained, his words flowing easily from his mouth. Obviously he wasn’t affected by me in the least. “I kind of wanted to clear the air between us. We’re bound to run into each other at some point in our lives, we know a lot of the same people, and I wanted to get past that awkward moment on my own terms.” He gestured his hand between us. “There. Over. Not as awkward as I feared. I also wanted to make sure you were alright…emotionally. You’re not the first girl whose virginity I’ve taken and it affects all women differently, so I thought it would be good if I double checked on that one.”
My mouth fell open, and I stood there just staring at him. What the hell was this? Some thinly veiled revenge mission? What a prick?! This was not the same Rhett I thought I knew. A moment ago, when I answered the door, I’d been thankful John wasn’t home. Now, I kind of wished he was. “I’m fine,” I told him, gritting my teeth. “But thanks for driving all the way out here to tell me that. Anything else?”
“That’s about it.” He shrugged. “I know you’re leaving for college soon. Luke University, right? Georgina Turner also is going there. And my roommate Noah, whipped bastard that he is, is following her there. Crazy, but it turns out I was right about them. They’re in love and all that shit. Anyway, Georgie mentioned you were going to be there as well. So I wanted to wish you luck. Tell you to have a good life. That sort of thing.”
If he wanted to pu
rposely piss me off, it was working. “Okay then. You have a good life too.”
“Okay then.”
I thought that was going to be the end of the conversation. But then he messed up—he lingered. That was his exit cue and he hesitated to take it. I might have bought into this whole arrogant, asshole act he was trying to pull on me if he hadn’t have lingered right then.
“You’re so full of shit,” I called him out.
I waited for a smartass rebuttal on his part. But it never came. “Am I that obvious?” he admitted instead, his sudden honesty hitting me like a two-by-four to the chest.
“Yeah,” I muttered.
“Then you also need to know I lied just a second ago. You’re the only girl whose virginity I’ve ever taken.” He turned away from me for a moment, taking a deep breath in, while running his hands over his head. Then, exhaling, he turned back toward me. “I don’t really know what else to say.”
How about the real reason why you’re here? Because flustered and honest Rhett was doing horrible things to my resolve. I didn’t need this now. I was finally feeling better about Ben and about him, and only excited for the start of a fresh, new school year. The smart move would be to tell him goodbye before our conversation had a chance to go deeper. But I was never smart when it came to Rhett. “Can I show you something?” I asked softly.
He shot me a questioning look.
“Just come with me.”
I gestured for him to follow me into the house, my heart racing all over again. He followed. The last thing I wanted was to give him false hope. But since he’d come all the way out to my house, something that would probably only happen this one time, I really wanted to show him the garage.
“This way.”
We walked through the entryway, past the kitchen, and then down one long hallway.
“If your plan is to intimidate me with your big house then you’ve succeeded,” he commented.
“It’s my grandfather’s house. And here’s what I wanted to show you.” I opened the door to the garage.
Rhett let out a low whistle. There were eight cars in the garage. Some classics. Some modern beauties. He instantly became distracted by the Ferrari. But I hadn’t brought him in here to show him that car. I grabbed his hand, pulling him over toward the one I really wanted to show him—the Impala, like his.
A moment too late, I realized I shouldn’t be touching him. I quickly dropped his hand. Swallowing hard, I took an extra step away from him. This wasn’t about anything other than showing him something I’d never been able to show anyone else before. I didn’t want to send him the wrong message.
Glancing at me for a moment, he said nothing. Instead he ran his hand across the hood. His touch was gentle, as if he were touching a woman, not a car. He took a moment and inspected the car—I mean really inspected it. “It’s a pretty car,” he commented as he opened the driver’s side door and sat down behind the steering wheel. He gripped the wheel tightly, the sound of the leather crinkling under his touch. “Does anyone even use it?”
“It just sits here,” I muttered. He looked good sitting there, like he belonged. “My grandfather is particular about his cars. His hands only.”
Rhett immediately put his hands up in the air. “Should I even be touching it?”
“Probably not.”
He got out of the car and shut the car door behind him. The sound echoed through the garage. “Sydney,” he said, using my name for the first time ever. The way it rolled off his tongue had an unexpected and direct effect on my body. “Why did you bring me out here to see this?”
The climate-controlled temperature in the garage suddenly felt like an oven. He was right. Why had I brought him out here? I ran my fingers through my hair, wishing now that I hadn’t been so eager to show off the car. It didn’t help that my body was full-on tingling now. We were alone. It was quiet. The car reminded me of his car, which reminded me of the orgasm he’d given me in it. And all I could think about was sex and how badly I wanted it with him. Not the gentle way our first time had been either—I wanted the Rhett with the reputation.
“Damn,” he grunted, his eyes burning through me. “I guess that answers one of my questions.”
“What?” I breathed. I could barely think straight all of a sudden.
His tongue ran over his bottom lip. Oh, those lips. “Come here, sweetheart.”
Shit. This was bad. What was it with him? We hadn’t even been in each other’s company longer than ten minutes, and I already couldn’t control myself. I went to him, knowing full well that we were about to have a repeat of that night. Probably right here on the garage floor. Or maybe on the hood of my grandfather’s car. It didn’t matter where. I only needed him. Now.
He brushed my hair back away from my face, his hands moving gently. I thought he was going to kiss me—the slow, sweet kind. But he didn’t kiss me. Instead he roughly whispered, “How badly do you want me?” and kissed the corner of my mouth, but not my actual lips.
“Badly,” I breathed. My knees went weak. “Rhett,” I begged. “Please kiss me.”
He pressed his lips to my cheek, then my neck, but still not my mouth like I wanted. Then suddenly he groaned, not in a good way either, in an angry way, and he pulled back. His touch leaving me completely. “The milk is no longer free. Sorry, princess.”
“What?” I choked out, leaning back against the car. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m not going to touch you again until I get what I want in return.”
My stomach dropped. I had no idea what was happening. “What do you want in return?”
“You. Not just your body and not just sex. I want you. You hurt me when you left me. I’ve done the casual thing. I’m sick to death of the casual thing. I’m not doing it with you. I honestly only came over here today to wish you well, and those intensions are getting warped. So when you’re ready—and here’s a hint, sweetheart, there are three words I’m gonna want to hear—I’ll be here. You know, when and if that day ever comes and your feelings ever catch up to mine. So, bye, Sydney. Good luck in college.” He moved closer to me for a brief moment, pressed his lips to my forehead, and then left.
I’d never been so shocked, and I felt absolutely horrible for trying to use him like that again. Rejection wasn’t an easy pill to swallow, either. But, in some weird way, I really admired him for turning me down just now. At least one of us had some control. And some morals.
CHAPTER 10:
RHETT
I left Sydney that day with so much confidence and certainty. Going to her house, I’d been seeking answers. Did she still want me? Was there a chance for us? Could she possibly love me one day? And then, all at once, she gave me what I needed. Yes—to all my questions. There was reason to hope, to believe that something more could exist between us. I knew it the moment she showed me that car. Because she didn’t have to do that. She could have told me to leave, to get off her property, and to never come near her or her giant house again. But that wasn’t how it happened. So I had to believe that somewhere deep inside, even if it was only the smallest, minuscule amount, she cared for me. Plus, we still had the physical thing down. That part seemed to be a no-brainer for us. I had to trust that the rest could follow. One day.
Our problem was more a matter of bad timing. I was ready for her, but she wasn’t ready for me. We had a lot of things working against us. The age difference. The soon to be long distance thing. Her psycho, protective brother. But those things didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. I was willing to wait until the timing was better. This was the rest of my life we were talking about. Of course, I would wait. For however long it would take.
Well…that was then.
And this was now.
Everything changed. It happened in one split, awful second. My confidence crumbled and my certainty vanished. Two weeks into September, only a month after the day I last saw Sydney, I overheard a phone conversation of Ellie’s. It was completely rando
m that I’d come home that day and that I’d happened to catch her on the phone.
Someone spilled cocktail sauce all over my shirt at work. It was nasty. Not a single other employee at Chancy’s had a clean shirt I could borrow in my size, so I had to make a quick trip home. When I came inside the house, I could hear Ellie in the kitchen. She was in the middle of an argument with whomever was on the other line. It wasn’t my business. I wasn’t even trying to listen. But one foot into the door, I overheard one word—Ben. Not in the context of the past, not as if she were talking about him, but she used his name as if she were talking to him.
My mouth dropped open and my feet froze. No freaking way. This meant she was either losing her mind, talking to a dead person, or her brother was still alive.
“I just don’t understand, Ben,” I heard her say. “I’m still trying to wrap my brain around all of this… But I want to come visit you in Malibu… Uh, huh… Yeah, I’ve missed you too… Yeah… No, I promise I won’t tell anyone… We’ve already been over that… I’ll see you in November…”
Knocked off my damn feet. No other words could describe how I felt in that moment. My heart felt as if it had been ripped out of my chest and trampled on the floor. Should I have been happy that Ben was alive, somehow, randomly, and calling Ellie on the phone? Probably. That would have been the decent thing to feel. But I felt quite the opposite.
I didn’t actually know what sort of relationship Sydney and Ben had shared. Obviously, not a physical one since I’d been the one to take her virginity. But between what she’d told me and what Noah had hinted, I was pretty sure she’d been in love with him. And now I knew he was alive. The kid was a fucking Boy Scout too. Smart, athletic, charismatic, and an all-around great guy. Not that I didn’t have my own strengths too, but how was I ever going to compete with that? I already felt like winning Sydney’s heart was this long up-hill marathon, one of which I probably wouldn’t finish as is. Now Ben was back in the picture? Fuck me.
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