Bad Boys Break Hearts

by Smeltzer, Micalea

  “Semen?” I arch a brow.

  “People like to have sex in public places. Hotel hallways are a prime choice.”

  “Have a lot of public sex, Princess?” I joke, pausing outside my room when we reach the two side by side. She’s silent, not willing to answer me. My brow arches in surprise. “So, you have had a lot of public sex? Color me surprised? You didn’t peg me for an exhibitionist. You learn something new every day.”

  She groans, hanging her head. “Don’t make this into something it’s not.”

  I lean my body against the door, holding onto the envelope that holds both our keys. “I need more explanation, darlin’.”

  “Give me my key.” She squares her jaw, holding her hand out.

  “I hold all the cards here, literally. Why so much public sex?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I couldn’t exactly do it at home.” She crosses her arms over her chest defensively. “When I wanted to have sex I had to get creative.”

  “You’re only eighteen, how much sex have you been having?”

  She tosses her head back. “Drop the overprotective older brother act and give me my room key.”

  My teeth gnash together. “I’m definitely not your brother, Aurora.”

  A little smirk crosses her lips and fuck it’s hot. I dish shit out to her, but man she knows how to use my own weapons against me. “You’re just jealous because all the sex I’ve had hasn’t been with you.” Effectively rendering me speechless, she grabs the envelope, takes her key, and shoves the other back at me. “Ta ta, Mascen.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Rory

  The closer we get to his home the more stressed I become. It might be ten years since I’ve been anywhere near Virginia, but there’s no mistaking the familiar landscape of rolling hills and mountains with endless farms.

  “I can feel the tension radiating off of you.”

  “I’m not tense.”

  Of course I am. I know it. He knows it. But God forbid I admit he’s right.

  “Liar,” he chuckles, clutching the steering wheel in his left hand. Sobering, he glances at me briefly, enough of a look for me to see that for once he’s not being a jerk. “You can talk to me. I know coming back here can’t be easy for you, not after…”

  “After my dad killed himself in my childhood home?”

  He swallows thickly. “Yeah, that.”

  I look out the window, a minute of silence passing between us as I watch the blurring brown bark of trees passing us by, and the kaleidoscope colors of changing leaves.

  “I saw him,” I whisper into the quiet.

  “Your dad?”

  “Yeah.” My tear ducts start to burn, but I refuse to let the treacherous liquid fall. “You know what they don’t show you in movies and TV shows is how bad a hanging really is. It’s not this body just dangling limply there. I was eight and I still remember every detail.” I bite down on my lower lip to stop the trembling. “I didn’t even see him for that long, but it was like time stood still and I saw things in a different way. I wish I could forget it all the time, because that’s the last memory I have of my dad and I don’t want it.”

  Mascen clears his throat, probably uncomfortable with the conversation, which I don’t blame him. “I’m sorry. Truly.”

  “I’ve never told anyone that before,” I admit quietly, feeling like he deserves to know that I’ve chosen to share something with him. Only him.

  “Why did you tell me?”

  “Because,” I sigh as Mascen takes an exit off of interstate 81, “I know I can trust you.”

  That might seem strange, Mascen being Mascen and all, but it’s true. I know he won’t tell anyone.

  “You trust me, huh?” His cocky grin almost entirely ruins the moment.

  “Don’t let it go to your head, Freddy Krueger.”

  “Why do you trust me?”

  “You’re making me wish I hadn’t said anything now.” I watch as we pass by a cluster of fast-food restaurants and gas stations.

  “I’m serious. I want to know.”

  I know he won’t let it go until I give him some kind of answer. He’s a pest through and through. “You’re not a gossip, and even if you don’t like someone I don’t think you’d do anything to intentionally hurt them in any way. Your prickly attitude does a good enough job already.”

  The signs of city life begin to disappear as we head further into the country. Farms line both sides of the roads with cows and horses wandering in their pastures.

  Mascen adjusts in the seat like he’s uncomfortable and I worry it’s something I’ve said. “I hurt Cole,” he finally speaks, his jaw taut, “when I kissed you.”

  I stiffen. “Did you tell him?”

  “No. It wouldn’t make any difference if I did. I know you didn’t either.”

  “How do you know that?”

  His gray eyes flash in my direction, something I can’t decipher reflected there. “I’m still alive aren’t I?”

  “Is Cole mad at me?” My voice becomes small. I feel terrible for leading him on. It wasn’t my intention. I truly hoped my feelings would grow for him, but when they didn’t I knew I had to break things off.

  “He’s hurt.” Mascen winces. “He really liked you.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

  “I know.”

  Turning onto a backroad with more farmland on either side, I know we’re getting close to his house, which means we’re close to my childhood home too.

  Out here, acres of land separate homes, but you still call each other neighbors. From the direction we’re coming I know we’ll get to his house first, which means today at least I won’t have to see the place.

  A few miles later, Mascen slows to turn on to the private drive.

  The anxiety I felt earlier expands tenfold. I’m not sure what his parents are expecting from me, what Mascen’s told them, and frankly it’s nerve-wracking to think that I’ll be spending the next two weeks here before we have to head back to school for finals before winter break.

  “What did you tell your mom about me? Why does she think I’m coming with you? She doesn’t think we’re dating right?”

  He snorts like the idea is ludicrous. “No. I said you couldn’t go home and were staying on campus and asked if she’d care if you came home with me. She didn’t. End of story.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “I’m assuming she okayed it with him.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “I talk to my mom more.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal, but the way his shoulders tense and his brow furrows I think there’s more to the story than he’s letting on.

  Too soon, the road bends and the large restored Victorian home appears. I’d forgotten how beautiful it is, but it takes my breath away. As a little girl I was convinced it was a giant doll house with the eaves and turrets.

  Mascen lets out a sigh, one that sounds both relieved and stressed. He eases his car to a stop in front of the garage addition, killing the engine. Resting his hands on his jean-clad thighs he turns to me with a small smile. “Home sweet home.”

  He undoes his seatbelt and I follow suit, opening the passenger door to step onto the brick paver driveway. I inhale the sweet scent of mountain air. It takes me back to days of running through fields, grass stuck in my hair, playing tag and daring each other to do things we thought were crazy at the time but now seem so silly.

  The breeze blows my hair in my face and I go to move it, finding Mascen watching me with a wistful expression, hands in his pockets. The baseball cap is back in its rightful place backwards on his head.

  “What?” I lower my hand from my face, wondering why he’s looking at me so funny.

  “Nothing.” He opens the trunk, grabbing our bags.

  “I can take mine.” I reach for it as he closes the trunk.

  “I’ve got it.”

  “Mascen,” I argue.

  “Rory.”

  The screen door on the front of th
e house suddenly flies open and we hear a cry of, “My baby!”

  A smile I’ve never seen him wear before, one that lights up the entire universe and bathes the tiny woman running toward him in a glow, takes over his face as he opens his arms, our bags still managing to rest on those wide shoulders of his.

  “Momma!”

  Emma dives into his arms, squeezing him tight. It’s funny how small she is compared to him but still manages to swallow him whole with her arms.

  She grabs his lightly stubbled face and plants kisses all over it.

  “Ew, mom, stop.”

  “You’re my baby and I’ll cover your face with kisses if I want. I had to push you out of my vagina and you had the biggest head I’ve ever seen. You owe me for life.”

  He chuckles, kissing her cheek. Her eyes sparkle with happiness at having her son home. It makes my heart ache. I wish I had this. This is what family is supposed to be like, but unfortunately a lot of times it’s not this way. Mascen’s lucky to have a close-knit family and I hope he realizes it.

  A girl steps onto the porch with the same round face as his mom and blonde hair to match. It’s been so long since I’ve seen his sisters that I can’t even make a guess as to which one it is. “Mascen, you’re home!”

  “Lylah!” He grins at his sister as she runs toward him. He scoops her up and swings her around. Setting her down, he turns to me. “Mom, Lylah, you remember Rory?”

  “Of course.” Emma turns that beautiful happy smile to me. She surprises me when she opens her arms for a hug. Even though I’m taken off guard I let her hug me. She squeezes me tight, whispering, “It’s good to see you, sweetie. It’s been too long.”

  Stepping back, I try to hide my surprise and the stupid tears that want to flood my eyes. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

  “Of course, sweetie.”

  “Hi,” Lylah gives a wave. “Nice to meet you … or see you again.” She laughs, shaking her head. “Sorry, this is weird. I don’t really remember you.”

  “It’s okay. You were really young when I moved away. But I’m looking forward to getting to know you now.”

  I sound oddly formal, but I guess it’s my way of handling this crazy situation.

  Emma claps her hands together. “Should we head inside then? I made some snacks in case you guys were hungry. I wasn’t sure if you’d stop for lunch.”

  “Snacks sound great, Mom.”

  I follow the three Wade’s up the porch steps, taking everything in as I go. On the large porch there’s a hanging swing, and several white rockers. A windchime of metal music notes hangs from a nail, the sweet sound of them gliding against each other filling the air.

  Mascen holds the screen door open for us to go inside first. The grand sweeping staircase fills my vision and ghosts of my past, of a giggling girl and boy, run up those stairs.

  The screen door clangs shut behind him and he sets our bags by the stairs, following his mom into the kitchen. I don’t know why I expected the house to be entirely different in ten years, but it’s very much the same. It makes my chest feel tight from the memories—the good memories. Somehow I’ve let myself forget so many of them, dwelling on everything that was wrong instead.

  The kitchen is bright and white, stools lining the large center island. There’s a built-in breakfast nook overlooking the backyard pool area. I remember sitting there with Mascen, eating freshly made chocolate chip cookies and then stealing more when we had no business eating more sugar.

  On the island, Emma has fruit and veggies cut up, mini sandwiches waiting, and those same chocolate chip cookies from my memories.

  “Eat as much as you want.” Emma turns for the refrigerator. “Drinks?”

  Mascen asks for a Dr. Pepper for each of us and passes me a bottle. I make sure not to touch his fingers when I grab it for fear of even more emotions stirring inside me. He notices my attempt not to touch him and gives me a funny look.

  “Thank you,” I mouth, hoping to make up for my behavior.

  Sliding onto one of the barstools Mascen motions for me to join him. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more awkward in my whole life as I sit by him. It feels like we’re enemies on the opposite sides of a battlefield most days, but for now I guess we’re calling a ceasefire.

  “How’s school going, Squirt?” Mascen asks his sister as she grabs a can of Coke from the fridge.

  “Senior year is a blast. The teachers don’t give a shit. It’s easy sailing.”

  “Lylah,” their mother scolds.

  “It’s true, Mom. We literally fill in the blank on worksheets in most classes.”

  “What about cheer?” He pops a grape in his mouth. “How’s that?”

  I reach for a sandwich while the siblings chat and Emma smiles like she’s pleased to see me eating.

  “You know how much I love cheer. It’s a blast. It’s sad to know this is my last year.”

  “You won’t cheer in college?” I interject and her eyes swing to me.

  “I’ll try out, but it’s more competitive. I’m not sure I’ll make the team.”

  “You will,” Mascen sounds so confident and sure, “I believe in you.”

  “You go to the local high school?”

  “I do, it’s nice.”

  “Once my husband stopped traveling so much with the band it made sense to enroll the kids in public school, give them some kind of normalcy.”

  “And we thank you for it.” Mascen tips his head at her. “Where is Dad anyway?”

  “He’s at Hayes’s studio. They’re releasing a special Christmas song next month and are perfecting it.”

  I know Hayes is the guitar player in Willow Creek, the band Mascen’s dad is the drummer in, but I don’t think I’ve ever met him. At least if I did as a little girl I don’t recall it.

  “This is really good, thank you,” I tell Emma, holding up the sandwich I’ve been nibbling on.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Did Dad know when I was coming?” Mascen asks, tearing apart the sandwich his mom had slid his way.

  She bites her lip, hesitating.

  Mascen laughs in a self-deprecating way. “Of course.”

  Lylah frowns, looking between her brother and mom. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Mascen stands, swiping two cookies. “Come on, Rory, I’ll show you the guestroom.”

  I finish the last bite of sandwich and stand. He holds one of the cookies out to me, a peace offering—for what I don’t know—and I follow him out of the kitchen.

  At the stairs he grabs our bags and heads up. Down the hall he goes with me at his heels, munching on the cookie. “God this is good. Remind me to have your mom teach me how to make these before we leave.”

  He grunts in response. “Here’s where you’ll sleep.” He nudges the door open, revealing a nice sized room with a metal-framed bed covered in fluffy white pillows and blankets. The simple table beside it has a stack of three books with a lamp sitting on top. The walls too, are white, with simplistic line drawings in black ink framed on the walls. The rug covering the original hardwood floors is the only source of color with a swirl of blue, purple, and pink. Mascen sets my bag on the ottoman in front of the bed. “Enjoy your stay at Casa Wade.” He forces a smile.

  Rocking back on my heels, I stick my hands in my back pockets. “And where’s your room?”

  His lips lift higher on one end. “Thinking of sneaking in? Morning blowies are a great wakeup call.”

  I roll my eyes and stand on my tiptoes, swiping the hat from his head and sticking it on mine. “Don’t make it weird, Voldemort.”

  He chuckles, but there’s still distance in his eyes like his mind is elsewhere.

  “My room is this way.” I follow him to the hallway and he points to the door at the very end. He opens it, revealing a set of stairs. “I have the attic. It used to be Willow’s but after she moved in with her boyfriend—fiancé,” he shakes his head in correction, “I moved up here. More privacy.”
r />   “That’s perfect for a vampire.”

  “Why?” He narrows his eyes.

  “Attic. Rafters.” I wait for him to get it. “Bats, Mascen. Bats are in attics. Vampires turn into bats.”

  He shakes his head, pressing his lips together to hide a growing smile. “Maybe if you’re a good girl I’ll show you how I do it.”

  My pussy clenches at the innuendo he puts into good girl. “D-Do what?” I stutter, my lids fluttering closed.

  “Transform into a bat.”

  I open my eyes to find him smirking. With lightning fast reflexes, ones I’m sure help him on the baseball field, he grabs his hat off my head, fixes it back on him and climbs the stairs up into his domain, a world entirely unknown to me.

  Chapter Thirty

  Mascen

  “What the fuck am I doing?” I mutter to myself, dumping the contents of my bag on the bed. I didn’t pack much, just the necessities like deodorant and my shaving kit since everything else I need is here. Picking up everything on my bed I move it to the top of the dresser out of my way.

  Taking off my hat, I ruffle my hair, trying to make sense of everything when it comes to Rory. Am I flirting with her? Do I really want to go down this path?

  “Stop overthinking shit.” I know I look insane up in my attic room, pacing the length of the space while I mutter to myself.

  I’m not ready to go back downstairs just yet so I plop in the computer chair, spinning around and around a few times like a little kid until I face the black wall my bed is against, the one that’s actually a chalkboard. Last time I was home I drew a UFO and aliens. Come abduct me motherfuckers, I’m in need of a memory wipe.

  Pushing the recline lever on the chair I lean all the way back so I’m looking at the ceiling now. Wooden beams criss-cross the rafters. When my parents remodeled the attic into a room they chose to leave the beams exposed. It’s a peek into the bones of the house, the structure holding everything up. Without what’s above there would be no house below. Those beams are strong, resilient, and I’m not. Rory is. She’s the strongest person I know and I don’t even know her anymore, but I know that for her to be the person she is today she’s had to be tougher than I’ll ever be. So many people think strength lies in the physical, like the muscles cording my body, but they’re wrong. Strength lies in what you cannot see, the mind of a person, and some people can handle more than others. I can see in Rory’s eyes that she’s endured a lot and I selfishly want to get all her secrets.