Someone for Me

by Addison Moore

  “Wait!” Kenny struggles to secure the belt again. “What are you doing? We were off to a great start.”

  “You’re not wearing underwear.” I shake my head. “You probably should.”

  “What?” Her voice rises to an unnatural level.

  “You’re doing all these wild things because I’ve led you to believe they’re normal. And instead you should wear underwear and let me love you in the privacy of our bedroom.” I wrap my arms around her and she bats me away as if my shirt’s on fire.

  “What the hell has gotten into you?” Kenny’s dimples go off with disapproval as she retrieves both paddles from the ground and holds them out like she’s about to deliver a double beating.

  I take a step back and withhold the laugh already rattling around in my chest.

  “This is not funny. Get back here,” she demands.

  “Oh yeah?” I take another slow step away. “What are you going to do if I don’t?”

  Her mouth opens wide, evidence she’s stunned by what she’s just heard.

  “You are going to get back here, and you are going to tie me to this damned tree, Professor Elton—then you’re going to spank me until I cry out with pleasure with this.” She holds up the demon paddle with teeth. Kenny shakes her head and holds out the other one instead. “I mean this.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, that’s so.” She takes a step forward. “Now get back here right this minute. This is going to get really ugly if you don’t.”

  A smile tugs on my lips. “Then I’m afraid it’s going to get really ugly. In fact”—I bend my knees and hold out my hands as if prepping for a full frontal assault—“you’re going to have to catch me first.”

  “Cruise.”

  “Kenny.” My chest rumbles with a laugh as the chase ensues. I trail around the pines and in and out of the shadows, taunting her to catch me. As soon as she gets within reach, I pull back and jump out of her way.

  “This isn’t funny.” She snatches at my elbow as I lure her all the way to the cabin.

  “All right.” I step to the door and turn the knob. “If you catch me, I’ll let you have your way. But first you’re going to have to paddle me for noncompliance.” I’m damn well going to let her catch me as soon as we get into that bedroom. And she can bet I plan on doing a little paddling of my own.

  A fire rises in her as she chases me through the doorway. I let her get in a good whack to my ass in the middle of the living room before wrestling her wrists together and settling a wet kiss on her lips. I dart my tongue in and out of her mouth, increasing my ache to have her that much more.

  I scoop Kenny into my arms and take her back to the bedroom, then put some smooth jazz on “Repeat,” so loud I can’t hear myself think—and won’t hear Molly bang on the wall.

  Kenny holds up a paddle, her face rife with disillusionment.

  I reach over and pluck off her dress before taking the fur-lined paddle from her and gliding it up along her leg, the inside of her thigh, stopping shy of that special spot reserved just for me.

  I’m going to spend the rest of the night making sure she understands exactly how much I love her, how much she deserves to be loved in every gentle and sane way. I hope she understands. I hope she sees we can have it all, right here, in the privacy of our bedroom.

  Molly thumps on the wall and shouts at me to turn down the music, so I do.

  I’m damned if I don’t, and damned if I do. I only hope it’s not that way with Kenny. I hope she’s on board with the new us, and that I haven’t destroyed anything we worked so hard to build.

  11

  HURTS SO GOOD

  Kendall

  A week drifts by as fall slowly morphs into an all-too-cruel winter with nonstop rain, sleet, and the prospect of blizzardlike conditions on the ever-gloomy horizon.

  Lauren asked Ally and me to drive to the bridal shop for her final fitting. We head over and step up to the glitzy establishment that shines like a jewel pressed against the cold, gray expanse of the world. A dress catches my eye just as I’m about to open the door, and I pause. It’s my Vera, beautifully draped on the flattering form of some headless mannequin, and I wish more than anything that the headless mannequin were me.

  “You can do this.” Ally comes up from behind me and rubs my back as though she’s prepping me for a boxing match.

  “I know,” I whisper. “I’m really happy for Lauren.” I take in a lungful of fresh air and enter the salon. It’s warm inside, sweetly perfumed with cinnamon and spice and everything nice—and yet oh so seemingly out of reach. A row of white candles are lit across the front counter, giving the space that sacred ambiance every wedding deserves—except for mine. I’m sure the courthouse downtown will have the harsh fluorescents on overhead. Of course a few will be out due to a lack of city funds—one will be blinking on and off, trying to induce both Cruise and me into a seizure. Don’t even get me started on the bevy of “Wanted” posters that will undoubtedly be lining all four walls of the fine establishment. God knows, nothing says romance like a band of armed fugitives and the government.

  “Morgan mentioned that your mom is finally coming back tonight.” Ally does her best to cheer me up. “Are you excited?”

  “Yes.” I feign enthusiasm as we head to the grand room where several pedestals are set out for brides to show off their wares while jealous best friends sit and nod disapprovingly. “I do miss my mom. I spoke with her a few days ago, and she said she had a fantastic time touring Europe. I’m sure she has a ton of great stories. Will you be there tonight?”

  Cruise and I are meeting at his father’s house, where his ex-stepmother, my Aunt Jackie, lives. Cruise let his father know the bed-and-breakfast is filled to capacity, so they can’t stay there. I’m not sure if Aunt Jackie will be around tonight, but if she is, it’s guaranteed to be highly entertaining. She has a weakness for younger men and vodka, and has copious amounts of both in the mix whenever possible—thus the divorce.

  “I wouldn’t miss it.” Ally waves over at Lauren, who’s standing by a display of overgrown Victorian gowns. “Oh my God! Are these the dresses?”

  Ally plucks a blush-pink dress off the rack and holds it to her body. It’s poufed out like a hot-air balloon at the bottom, and the girth of it is covered in heavy brocade, with gold embossing throughout. “Oh, these are gorgeous.”

  “I’ll say,” I whisper, picking up a sky-blue gown with gold-lace impressions. “What are these for?”

  “They’re for you. They’re sort of my bridal party gift to you. I’m having Cal’s sisters and my cousins come in this weekend, but I wanted to give you your dresses today. Do you like them?”

  “No.” Ally’s mouth falls open as she again holds the dress against her body. “I love it. When can we take them home?”

  “Tonight, if they fit. I gave them your sizes, but the seamstress may want to adjust them to perfection.” She motions toward the fitting room. “Shall we?”

  The three of us head back to change in a palatial dressing room that’s about the size of the cabin. The bridal shop has a small army of attendants helping us ease into the gowns, and I imagine this is what being a model would be like. Only we’re not getting ready for some runway show—we’re getting ready for the rest of our lives. Lauren’s life, to be exact.

  “It fits like a dream.” Ally spins, looking every bit a princess. The gold flecks and pink hues complement her pale skin, her vanilla-colored hair. I can’t help but be a little envious. Ally looks ready for a wedding of her own in that dress.

  The gal helping me pulls the zipper taut, and my dress sags.

  “Pretty,” I say, even though my boobs look like they’re hanging down to my knees. It figures.

  “We’ll get it adjusted.” Lauren wrinkles her nose at me.

  The attendants help her into her gown, and I gasp at the sight of her. Lauren was beautiful in the dress a few weeks ago, when we first saw it, but now—without the sign of a single clothespin holding the b
ack together—she looks like an angel that just flew down from heaven.

  “Stunning,” I say. Really, it’s the only word that fits.

  “Lauren!” Ally bursts into tears, and I give a hard sniff because it’s taking everything I’ve got not to lose it. “Lauren, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.” Ally and I close in on her as all three of us huddle together with our arms wrapped around one another.

  “It’s hard to believe that in a few short weeks I’ll be married and all this will be over.” The attendant hands us each a tissue, and Lauren gives a loud and aggressive blow. “Which reminds me, I have an entire itinerary to give you both for the following weeks. I’ve already scheduled our nail and hair appointments—spa days have already been factored in, starting next Tuesday, then every week after that right up until the wedding. I need you both relaxed and calm”—she fans the tears from her eyes—“placid and serene. Ally, no chocolate for you until after the ceremony—we both know you have a tendency to break out.” Her steely eyes dart over to me, serious as shit. “Kendall, I’ll need the final chapter in two weeks, so think up some grand conclusion, a real nail-biter of a climax if you know what I mean. Then I’ll have my formatter piece the entire thing together and you’ll have a genuine book on your hands. I also need—”

  “I can’t do it.” I smooth my hands over my dress to keep the residual tears away. “Nothing exciting has happened for weeks. Face it—it’s true. Cruise is losing interest in me.”

  “What?” Lauren plucks at my shoulder. “I’m calling bullshit.” She barks it out while in her wedding dress, and it looks hysterically wrong. “You just get back on that pony and you ride him. You ride him all around campus if you have to and then you can set your hair on fire for all I care, but you’re going to bring this puppy home. Speaking of which, please, no more boring bedroom sex. The women reading these are already having boring bedroom sex, and they’re counting on you and Cruise to keep their deviant dreams alive.”

  “There’s not a lot I can do,” I say, slipping out of the bloated gown. “I’ve tried just about every trick in the book. The bottom line is, that special glow has left our relationship. We’ve crossed that dreaded threshold, and now we’re boring, just like everyone else.”

  “Kendall.” Ally swoops over and hugs me while I stand there in my boy shorts and push-up bra. “Cruise loves you. Have you talked to him about this?”

  “Well”—I consider the question for a moment—“not really. I guess that’s the next step. But just thinking about having that kind of conversation with Cruise makes my stomach turn. It feels one step closer to”—my chest heaves as I hold back tears—“saying good-bye.” The attendant shoves the box of tissues in my face and I pluck a few out, pressing them into my eyes as a rush of tears hits me unexpectedly.

  “Oh, honey.” Lauren gently rubs my back. “I promise, once you get that amazing, creative, perhaps a little dangerous yet extremely inventive climax for the final chapter, your happily-ever-after will come right on its heels.”

  “You think so?” I blubber through the waterfall streaming down my face.

  “I know so.” She presses a quick kiss to my cheek. “And so will USA Today.”

  Later, through a miraculously clear night, Cruise and I drive to see his father, Andrew, and my mom at his dad’s gorgeous, rambling estate. It’ll always hold a special place in my heart, since that is where Cruise proposed to me. Actually, it was out in the field after we went horseback riding. He got down on one knee and we made love right there in the snow. But that was when our love was new and everything was just the way it was supposed to be. I wonder if we can ever get back to that. Maybe a visit to the barn is in order. I glance around at the black-velvet night, and I somehow doubt we’ll venture much farther than the house tonight.

  I spot Morgan’s truck parked out front, and I perk up a little at the sight.

  “Looks like your brother’s here.” Cruise frowns when he says it, and my mouth falls open at his quasi insult.

  “You say it like it’s a bad thing.” We get out of the car, and he comes to me and wraps an arm around my waist. “I happen to know he thinks of you as the brother he never had.” My father’s errant children scuttle through my mind, and I’m quick to shoo them away.

  “And I think of him as a brother, too.” It comes out with an edge of sarcasm. “Besides, I always have a great time when your big bro is around. Trust me.” His lips pull back, giving him a slight look of regret.

  “You’re not funny. Morgy really does love you.”

  “I can feel the love, all right.” His brows lurch as if he doesn’t believe a word.

  I leave it alone for now. I’m not ready to get into it with him. Morgan does try around Cruise. And fists haven’t been exchanged for months, which has to be a good sign.

  A pair of oversized wreaths adorn the double entry, with oak leaves in every shade of cranberry. I used to love fall, and yet now it feels like I’m surrounded with death and dying everywhere I look, starting with my relationship with Cruise.

  The door swings open wide, and both Andrew and Mom are there to greet us. They look tan and healthy, and they have that special glow that only people in love seem to have.

  “God, Kendall”—Mom holds me by the shoulders—“you’re so pale and thin. Have you been eating?”

  Morgan comes up from behind her. “I think she needs some sun.” He reaches over and tousles my hair.

  My gaze drops to the polished marble floor as I try not to cry. “Yes, I’ve been eating.” Leave it to my mother to prove a point without knowing it.

  “Well, have you been hiding under a rock?” She pinches my cheeks hard, and I gently deflect her efforts. “Cruise, you need to take better care of this girl.”

  “I’m fine.” I glance over at Cruise. “He does take care of me, and quite nicely.”

  “Nice to see you, Karen.” Cruise leans in and hugs Mom. “I’ve been on my best behavior around Kenny, I promise.”

  Best behavior? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

  “Aww.” Mom clasps her hands together. “I love it when he calls you that.”

  Andrew is quick to usher us into the great room, where, to my surprise, I see Aunt Jackie juicing it up with Pen and Ally.

  “Look who’s here!” Aunt Jackie bounces over in her silver heels, her all-too-tight jeans, and an ill-paired sequined crop top. “Kendall-poo and my Cruisy boy!” She embraces us both at the same time and accidentally spills her wine down my back, where it flows along like an icy river.

  I let out a cry as the white wine cascades all the way to my jeans and onto the floor.

  “Oh, hon”—Aunt Jackie waves a hand at me—“don’t you be embarrassed. Happens to the best of us. Ain’t that right, Karen?” She slaps Mom on the back and breaks out in a cackle. “Remember that time you pissed yourself while we were on our way to the Sigma Nu mixer?”

  “No, actually that was you,” Mom corrects, and it only encourages Aunt Jackie to break out in one of those hacking laughs with nothing but air coming out for a minute straight. Aunt Jackie vibrates as her dark hair sprays around her head like a jagged rainbow.

  “I actually didn’t have an accident. This is wine,” I say, glancing down at the puddle.

  Ally already has a dish towel at the ready, and she helps mop it up.

  “I’ve got some sweats you can throw on upstairs,” Mom says. “First room on the right. They’ll be baggy, but you’ll be dry.”

  “Cruise?” I try to entice him by making big eyes at him. “Would you mind helping me? I really don’t know my way around, and the house is so big.” Technically, it doesn’t even qualify as a house. It’s more like a museum—or a mausoleum. I lick my lips to make sure he gets the message, loud and clear.

  “Oh.” He glances at my brother and his brows furrow. “Actually, Ally, why don’t you help her out? I’m sure you’re better at girl things.”

  My mouth falls open.

  “No, Ally, that’s okay.” I
press a hand into her chest, and she steps back. “I’m fine with just Cruise.” I take his hand, but he slips his fingers away.

  “Ally, it’s the first door on the right. You can’t miss it.” He turns to Morgan like they’re suddenly best friends. “So what do you think of those Gladiators?”

  I pluck at Cruise’s shoulder and forcibly take his hand again.

  “Excuse us,” I say crisply as I pull him along the length of the expansive room to the base of the stairs. “Why am I having to drag you with me?” My eyes practically cross—I’m that angry.

  His jaw clenches and my stomach melts. Traitor. I’m supposed to be royally pissed, but Cruise’s vexing sexiness doesn’t help the situation.

  “Because I happen to know for a fact you’re going to want to land parts of my body in yours,” Cruise says. He kisses my hand sweetly, and his five-o’clock shadow grazes my skin, sending a sizzle all the way down my thighs. “I promise, I want that, too.”

  “Great!” I sense a spectacular climax coming in more ways than one, and God knows I want them all. I’m that greedy tonight, and to prove it I pull Cruise up the stairs with me.

  “Not great.” He reels me back in. Cruise sighs into me. His entire person sags as if he’s gearing up for some disturbing speech he knows deep down I don’t want to hear. “I’ll wait outside the room. We can leave early if you like.”

  I glance up the stairwell. The hallway leading to the right isn’t at all visible from down here. I smile coyly up at Cruise. We’re about to have hot hallway sex, and he doesn’t even know it. He leads me by the hand, and I dutifully ditch into Mom and Andrew’s room. God, this place is huge! The bed is the size of a city. Well, a small cherry-stained city with large white clouds on top, but nevertheless . . . Fresh flowers sit in a cut-crystal vase in one corner. There’s a bay window, and a round tufted couch is perched in the center of the room for no good reason—and holy crap, there’s just miles of empty space in here. I open the door to get Cruise.