by Anna Paige
Tommy reached for it. “Maybe it’s good he left it. It’s kind of chilly by the water. Might come in handy later.”
“Um, no.” I held it out of his reach. “I’d rather freeze than wear his clothes.”
“Maybe I meant I wanted to borrow it.”
I shook my head. “Sorry, I can’t loan something that’s not mine.” I wasn’t sure what squicked me out more, Tommy wanting to wear a strange guy’s hoodie or the thought of those enormous pit stains seeping into Ash’s stuff.
So. Gross.
Might as well get this over with now, so I could relax. “Look, Tommy, I think you’re nice and everything but this . . . date . . .” I almost choked on the word. “This just isn’t going to work. I’ve tried telling Charli that I wasn’t into dating right now, but she pushed, and I gave in. I’m sorry for that. I should never have agreed to see you tonight. I’m just not in the right place to start something with anyone.” I offered him a smile. “Do you know what I mean?”
“So, you aren’t into me?”
I softened my expression as much as I could. “No. I’m sorry. And I thought it was better to tell you now so maybe you can find someone at the party who’s more compatible.”
He looked deflated for a moment but recovered fast. “Okay. There’s bound to be a ton of girls here tonight, right?”
“Loads.” I nodded.
“Cool,” he chirped, already scanning the beach. He tossed a last look my way and frowned. “Do I still have to give you a ride home? Because if I get lucky, that might be hard to explain.”
“Nah.” I almost laughed. “We’ll catch a ride with Beck.”
He threw the “hang loose” signal again and headed off in search of a new date.
“Wow, you could have at least had a beer with him first,” Charli commented, humor in her voice.
“Oh, you shut your face. I’m still pissed off at you for setting me up with him in the first place.” I pointed in the direction he’d headed. “Do you think I enjoyed that? I hate that I had to say that to him. And I hate you for putting me in that position. How in the fuck did you look at him and think he and I would be compatible in the slightest?”
She grimaced. “I didn’t really think it through. I just heard from the barista who caught him changing in the back room that he’s hung like a horse, and I figured at the very least he’d be good for taking the edge off.”
I stared at her, mouth agape.
“What? You’ve been single way too long. I wasn’t expecting you to fall in love or anything. I was just trying to hook you up with some quality dick.”
I opened my mouth to speak and clamped it shut. There weren’t sufficient words to convey how offended I was.
There was, however, an obscene gesture that would do nicely.
So, I threw Ash’s hoodie over my shoulder, flipped her off—with both hands—and stalked away, suddenly in desperate need of a beer.
And possibly a new best friend.
Blair
The crowd that surrounded the keg was overwhelmingly male, and from the amount of lurid comments, they were also mostly single. Or just dogs. It was anyone’s guess since I didn’t stick around long enough to find out anything beyond the fact they were drunk and obnoxious.
Beer in hand, I trudged down the beach in the opposite direction of the party and angled toward the water, flopping down just far enough away to keep from getting wet. The moon was nearly full, its cool, white light playing across the surface of the water. When the breeze picked up, goose bumps broke out across my skin and I smiled. It had been a mild summer for once, and with the cooler nights we’d been having, it seemed as if autumn was raring to go.
It was only mid-September, but I was already envisioning falling leaves and pumpkin carving.
The wind blew across the water again and I shivered, wondering if maybe I should have worn an extra layer. I eyed Ash’s hoodie in my lap but shook my head.
I’d rather be cold.
“Still hate me?” Charli startled the hell out of me, coming over and taking a spot in the sand to my left.
“Yes. Eternal hatred. That’s what this stunt has earned you. Eternal, burning hatred.” I tried for a serious tone but wasn’t sure I hit my mark.
She bent her legs and draped her arms over her knees, her expression full of remorse. “I should have taken no for an answer. I’m sorry I set you up with Tommy. He didn’t seem so bad when I met him. And in my defense, he was much cleaner in his work uniform. Even had a crisp, white apron like everyone else in the café.”
“Never again, Charli. Don’t you ever try to set me up again. Don’t even mention another guy to me for at least five years, and even then, it better be brutally honest.” She started nodding and I held up a hand, stopping her. “And when I say no, which I will, you will back the hell off and let me find my own dates, if and when I decide I want them, got it?”
“Yep. Got it,” she agreed immediately, giving me a grateful look.
We were quiet for a while, looking out over the water in a comfortable silence.
“I’ve got to know something . . .” Charli began, and I knew that tone in her voice.
“No, if you had said he seems nice, buses tables, and has a huge dick, I still wouldn’t have wanted to meet him. Dick isn’t everything.”
“You’ve been dealing with the wrong dicks, sweetheart,” Ashton cut in, scaring the living shit out of us both as he leaned down and snagged his hoodie from my lap. The backs of his knuckles skimmed my inner thigh and I jumped at the contact.
“You could have just asked me to hand it to you, jackass.”
“And you could have put it on instead of sitting here cuddling the damn thing when you’re clearly freezing, genius.”
“I’m not cold.” A complete lie, but I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of admitting otherwise.
He leaned down again and skimmed his knuckles down my arm. “Then what’s up with the goose bumps?” His breath was warm on my neck when he spoke again. “Is it because I reached between your legs?”
I shoved him back, making him lose his balance and fall ass first into the sand. “Dream on, manwhore. Not every woman wants you.”
“Are we referring to you as a woman now? When did that happen?” He didn’t bother trying to get up, just kicked back and propped himself up with his arms locked behind him.
“I think she became a woman on prom night,” Charli mused, nudging my arm. “Cliff Turner, wasn’t it?”
“Would you shut up? How is that helping?”
I half expected Ash to laugh at her comment, but he didn’t. When I looked over, he was watching me with an odd expression, his lips thinned as if angry. “Cliff? You can’t be serious. That guy is a . . .” He shook his head, not finishing his thought. “You could have chosen someone better than him.”
“Are you seriously sitting here judging my sex life? You, the man who’s humped his way across two states?”
“Three. My folks have a lake house.” He had the nerve to grin at that.
“Fuck off, Ashton. You got your hoodie back, now go circle the keg and wait for your next unsuspecting victim . . . I mean conquest. And tell my brother Charli and I are riding home with him.”
His brows shot up and he leaned forward, brushing the sand from his palms as he watched me. “What about your date? Things go south already?”
“Things weren’t going anywhere, so I freed him up.”
“Noble, little one.”
“Yeah, but that means he’s on the hunt, too. More competition for you.”
He finally stood but waited for me to look up at him before responding. “He and I are looking for completely different things. No way would we both be interested in the same woman.” His gaze flitted to Charli and back to meet mine. “At least not without outside interference.”
With that, he started walking.
I turned to say something to Charli when his hoodie suddenly fell over my face. He’d dropped it on my head on the way
by.
“Please put that on. You need it more than I do,” he muttered, not bothering to wait for my response.
The damn thing even smelled like him.
And now I would too.
“Holy shit, Blair!” Charli hissed under her breath. “Ashton just flirted with you.”
“You call eavesdropping, prying, judging, and acting like a condescending jackass flirting?”
“In the realm of Ash? Yes. Plus, he flat-out admitted he was interested in you.”
“When?”
She rolled her eyes but smirked as she watched me tug the hoodie over my head. Why did it have to smell like him? A new wave of goose bumps washed over me, and it had nothing to do with the chill in the air.
Not to be dissuaded, she continued with her insane ramblings. “He said he and Tommy wouldn’t be interested in the same woman unless there was outside interference.”
“So?”
“He meant me, dumbass. I’m the outside interference. He gave me a look right before he said it, almost an angry look like he resented me pairing you up with Tommy.”
“You’re crazy. He didn’t mean it like that.”
“The hell he didn’t. I know when a man is interested, and Ash was having way too much fun toying with you tonight. Did you hear how he practically spat Cliff’s name when he found out you two fucked? That was three years ago, and it still pissed him off.”
“I would hardly call less than thirty seconds of penetration fucking,” I corrected, rolling my eyes. “And he wasn’t pissed off. He was judgy and probably annoyed that he and Beck weren’t able to stop it from happening. Beck will be pissy, too, when Ash inevitably tells him about it. Never mind that I was of age and it was my choice.”
“Beck is protective, always has been. And I thought Ashton was just following Beck’s lead because they’re so close. You know, enforcing Beck’s school-wide ‘keep the fuck away from my sister’ ultimatum as a courtesy while simultaneously tormenting you for his own amusement. Now, though, I think maybe Ash isn’t being protective, he’s being possessive. Because he wants you.”
“You must be stoned.”
“You must be blind.”
“Do you want back on my hit list? Because you’re on your way. Drop. It.”
“Fine.” She stood and brushed the sand off her butt. “I would have thought you’d be ecstatic after all these years crushing on him but whatever. I’m going to get a beer. I’ll grab you another, though I don’t know how you’ll manage to drink it with your head buried in the freaking sand.”
I groaned in frustration as she walked away.
When I stood and pulled in a deep, fortifying breath, I smelled him on me, and it made my pulse jump.
I stomped off in the direction of the keg, annoyance settling in where denial had previously been.
Damn Charli for putting this idea in my head.
And damn Ash, too.
For making it hard to deny she may be right.
Ashton Hunter may have just flirted with me.
What was even worse; I was pretty sure I liked it.
Ashton
Cliff fucking Turner.
The more I thought about it, the more pissed off I became.
That sorry piece of shit had his hands on Blair.
God help him if Becker ever found out.
No, God help him if I ever got my hands on him.
Becker could wait his turn and hope there was enough left to pummel when I was through.
I’d made my way down to the north end of the beach, stopping only to get a fresh beer and nod to one or two former classmates who tried to engage me in conversation.
I needed a minute to process this shit before I could be social again.
After all Beck and I had done to protect her, she went off and let that piece of shit Cliff pop her cherry?
I was nearly as angry at her as I was with him.
How could she be so stupid? Blair was one of the smartest people I knew, probably even smarter than Beck, definitely smarter than me.
Or so I’d thought.
I kicked at the sand and stared out over the water, the faint sound of laughter drifting from the direction of the party followed by a playful squeal from one of the girls.
I knew Blair’s voice well enough to know it wasn’t her, but the sound reminded me of her just the same.
“I told you she got boobs over the summer,” I whispered to Becker as we stood astride our bikes watching Tiffany Dwyer walk by with her little sister. She wore a tube top and cut-off shorts, her long, blond hair hanging loose down her tanned back. She and her baby sister were headed into the little corner store, totally unaware of our attention.
To a thirteen-year-old boy, there was nothing better than discovering the cute girl down the block grew a rack over summer break.
School started in a week and I couldn’t wait to see who else had started cultivating their own melon patches while school was out.
Tiffany had been away at her grandma’s all summer, only arriving back a few days ago, so the change in her was instantly noticeable.
“Totally stuffed. Bet there’s not a Kleenex left in her whole house,” Becker said, shaking his head.
“Bullshit,” I argued, not willing to let him burst my bubble. “They look too perfect. Tissue titties always look lumpy. Ask Shelley Edwards,” I said with a snort as the door closed behind Tiffany and her new boobs.
Beck shifted and put one foot on the pedal of his bike. “They didn’t bounce or jiggle once. I still vote tissue tits, but whatever gets you through the night. Come on, my mom promised to make peanut butter brownies to go with lunch.”
“Blair and Charli probably ate them all already. Your mom always gives them whatever they want because they whine their asses off if she doesn’t.”
“Like your mom doesn’t do the same thing for you, only child.” He took off on his bike and I followed.
“You’re just jealous because I don’t have to share my shit with a squealing, tea party throwing, bratty little sister and you do.”
He looked at me over his shoulder and shrugged. “She doesn’t squeal that much. Dad has been getting onto her about it, so she’s not as bad as she was. And she’s not a brat all the time.”
“Just when she’s awake.”
He didn’t argue. “Okay, she’s kind of a brat sometimes, but she’s sick today, so at least she won’t be hogging the brownies. She was throwing up yesterday and had a fever, so she probably wouldn’t want them anyway. And even if she did, Mom doesn’t give sweets when you’re sick. Only chicken soup and ginger ale. If you’re lucky, you get crackers. And with Blair sick, Charli can’t come over either because she might get germs.”
“But it’s okay for me to get germs? What the hell, Beck?”
“Mom has Blair set up on the couch in the den, so we can eat in the kitchen. It’s not like you were going to hang out with her anyway, so that’s why you can go and Charli can’t. Charli would want to hang out with her.”
“Yeah, but I bet she’d be happy to hang out with you instead.” I made kissing noises, laughing at the expression on his face.
“Shut it, Hunter.”
We rode our bikes around the side of the house and propped them up against the back porch, Beck still looking ticked off at me for teasing him. He knew Charli had a crush on him but mostly he ignored her. She was just a little kid, so he didn’t have the heart to be mean. Maybe if he’d be a raging asshole to her one good time she’d find someone else to make googly eyes at.
“Becker, get in here,” his mom called through the screen door as we approached.
There was something in her voice I didn’t like.
“Coming, Mom. What’s wrong?” He heard it, too, that odd, panicked tone.
“It’s Blair. She’s burning up and I can’t wake her.” She was on the old, corded house phone, her hand over the receiver and her cell was in the crook of her arm, like she’d been on that one too. “I’m trying to get ahold of yo
ur dad now. There’s an ambulance on the way. If your bikes are in the driveway, move them right now so they can get in.” The more she spoke, the shriller she became and the faster my heart raced.
“They’re around back,” Becker told her as he headed quickly by her and into the den.
I followed right on his heels, an awful feeling of panic rising in my throat.
“Blair!” He was leaning over her on the couch, his hands gripping her shoulders, shaking her. “Wake up, Blair! You’re scaring Mom.”
Her head lolled from side to side as he shook her, but her eyes never opened.
She wasn’t just scaring her mom; she was scaring all of us. The more he called to her, the paler he became. My own hands shook so hard I shoved them in the pockets of my jeans to keep them still.
“She’s breathing,” I heard his mom speaking on the phone. “But, Ben, she won’t wake up and her fever . . .” her voice broke then, just as I noticed the sound of sirens in the distance.
“They’re almost here. Meet us at the hospital.” She hung up and headed for the front door to let the paramedics in. I saw her open the door from the corner of my eye, and as soon as she did, she stepped back, like something had startled her.
“Charli, honey, what are you doing here?”
I couldn’t see her from where I stood, but her small voice was as familiar as Blair’s. They were together constantly, after all. Just like me and Beck. “My mom sent Blair some homemade soup.” There was a pause. “Is that ambulance coming here?”
Mrs. Martell reached out and tugged Charli into the house. “They’re here for Blair,” she offered by way of explanation then called out, “In here, please hurry!”
Charli stepped inside with huge, terrified eyes locked on Blair and the way Becker was still trying to rouse her.
She idly set the carton of soup on the nearest table and asked Beck, “What’s wrong with her?”
He didn’t even look up, his attention squarely on Blair’s unresponsive form. “Nothing. She’s not feeling very well, so she’s sleepy, but she’s going to be fine. She is. She has to be.” His tone matched his mother’s; shrill and manic.