by Scott, S. L.
We move through the water toward the shore, and I rush to get the blanket for her, shaking it off. Even though I wrap it around her shoulders, it doesn’t stop a shiver that was already working its way up her spine, but hopefully, it will keep any others at bay.
Gathering our clothes, I slip on my jeans before picking up everything else and loading it into the back of the truck. Chloe’s still standing near the water, and says, “Look out there.” I look past her, following her gaze as it skims across the lake. “That’s mangata.”
“What is?”
“See the streak of moonlight across the top of the water? A silver road leading to the moon. That means moon street in Swedish.”
“Mangata. I’ve never heard of it.”
“No matter where in the world I was, if I was near water, I could pretend to traipse across the water to some magical land.” Embarrassment takes over and she dips her head with a grin still on her face. “Silly, but some nights it was nice to have an escape.”
Leaves crinkle under my feet as I move in front of her. When she looks up, I cup her face, leaning my head against hers. “If I could make a wish, I’d wish that one day you don’t need an escape.”
“Like now,” she replies with watery eyes staring into mine. “Like the past month with you.”
I nod and lean down to kiss her—slow and sweet—like she needs in the moment. Like I need from her. Our lips part, but our heads remain together. With my eyes closed, I breathe her in, the sound of the water nearby, and the night that should be winding down but feels like we’re suddenly given limitless opportunity. “Chloe,” I say just wanting to feel the shape of her name on my tongue again.
She opens her arms and brings me into her fold with the blanket wrapping around me. “Joshua,” she whispers.
Branches crack under tires right before the headlights catch us. “Fuck,” I grind between gritted teeth.
Clinging to me, she peeks over her shoulder. “Are we going to be arrested?”
“No,” I say, recognizing the truck when it comes through the clearing. “He’s an asshole, though. Don’t say anything. Okay, Chloe?”
“I’m scared.”
I tuck her behind me, leaving my hand on her hip. “Don’t be. I’ll handle it.”
Her blanketed arms are around my middle as she whispers against my back, “We can’t be kicked out of school. It’s our last year.”
Turning to her, I give her hand a squeeze. “It’s going to be fine. I promise. Just let me do the talking.”
The truck door creaks open, needing a good oiling, and the driver gets out adjusting the Red Sox baseball cap. Hitting the Blazer as he passes, Jon Dwight says, “Should have known it was you. Thought we had an understanding, Josh?” He cocks an eyebrow when he sees Chloe. “Trying to impress some girl on my time? I was knee deep in the Notre Dame game and had to drag my ass out here.”
He always did support the wrong teams, like being on my dad’s payroll. I was hoping he’d be taking the night off or sleeping on the job. Figures that he’d get wind of me down here and want to give me a hard time. “From what I remember, the agreement was that you’d stop harassing me, Dwight.”
“You’re trespassing. I can call the cops if you’d like them to settle this.” Jon glares over my shoulder and the gall that he thinks he has a right to even look at Chloe has me fisting my hands. “Or your da—”
“Call the cops if you want.” My hard glare has him stopping that train of thought. Jon knows better than to laud my dad over my head. That he’s doing it now makes him more of an asshole than he already is. The last thing I want is for Chloe to learn about my dad from this idiot.
Chloe’s shivering body presses against me. “Don’t say that.” Glancing at her over my shoulder, I see her eyes cast down. She whispers, “Let’s just go.”
“Listen to her, Josh.”
Leading her to the passenger’s side of my truck, I open the door. “Warm up.” She holds the blanket closed at her throat, nodding. She’s not shivering anymore, but I can see the concern in her eyes.
I return to the front of the truck and grab the rest of our clothes. Putting on my jeans, I ask him, “You gonna stare like a fucking perv?”
You’d think he was the police by how he plants his hands to his sides and looks down on me. “I could end this cushy setup you got going. I suggest you show a little more respect, kid.”
“You can’t end shit, kid,” I volley back since he’s my age. “You’re a lackey at best and a guard dog at worst. You were hired to piss me off.”
He laughs. “It’s working.”
I pull my shirt over my head but bust him eyeing Chloe. “Eyes over here, fucker.”
“You think you own this town, but Evans doesn’t mean shit around here anymore.”
“Tell that to my father.”
“A one-night stand may have given you that last name, but you’ll never have the clout that precedes you.”
I don’t need clout and I don’t care about the reputation my dad left behind. I’m my own man. “Fuck off, Dwight.”
“I will when you get the fuck out of here, Junior, and stop trespassing.”
I’m not in the mood to argue with an asshat from high school getting a taste of power. I want to get Chloe out of here, so I take our stuff to the cab and get in.
Through the open window, I hear him say, “Have a good night, Evans,” but the sincerity is seriously lacking in his tone.
I start the engine and back up, getting back on the path we drove in on. Flipping him off, I reply, “Fuck you very much, Dwight.”
Chloe remains quiet until I pull onto the main road. “An old friend of yours?”
“No.”
I’m about to set the record straight, but then she says, “I’ve never been more attracted to someone than I am to you right now.” Huh? “You were just so . . . Gah. So hot. I thought you might end up in a fight.”
“Wait, I’m confused.” Glancing over at her, I ask, “You wanted me to get in a fight?”
“No, not at all, but seeing you ready to protect me is the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.” She’s squirming in her seat as if she can’t control the adrenaline, or maybe that’s desire I see lit in her eyes.
I pull off to the side of the road and shift into park. “I’d fight for your honor any day.”
She shifts closer. “I’m so turned on right now.”
“This is what happens when you have the best sex. You crave it.”
“I’d roll my eyes, but you’re right. Kiss me, Joshua.”
I lean over and bring her closer. Just before our lips meet, she says, “Wait.”
“What?”
“We’re not in trouble, right? Like our names aren’t on the bad list, are they?”
“Bad list?” I cock an eyebrow and smirk. “Fuck yeah, your name is on the bad list. You’re a bad, bad girl.”
Her mouth crashes into mine, force and intention driving her. Ripping herself away from me, her breath is heavy and loud like mine. That fire in her eyes an inferno. “I want you,” she purrs.
“Now?”
Nodding excitedly, she commands, “Now.”
“Here?”
She looks around at the cars driving by, the thrill in her eyes beginning to dim. “No,” she replies under nervous laughter. “Somewhere no one can see us.”
I pull back on the road and detour down the first dirt road I find and shift into park. “How’s this?”
Her seat belt flies off and she’s coming for me. “Shift the seat back.”
It doesn’t go flat, but it’s down enough, and I’m lying back in less than two seconds. Flipping the blanket from her shoulders, she’s still bare on top, but the wet panties are gone. “You’re a goddess.
“Pants off.”
“Fuck me,” I groan, so ready to be buried deep inside her.
“That’s the plan, hottie.”
18
Chloe
“I knew there was a bad girl under th
ose good girl clothes.”
Opening my eyes, I sit up, resting on my elbows in the back of the Blazer. There wasn’t enough room in the front for us to do things properly. “What exactly are good girl clothes?”
With the tailgate down, I can see almost all of him—all the good stuff at least. Joshua pulls his jeans up, leaving the trail that leads lower exposed. “Those sweet sweaters you wear. The pearl earrings and diamonds. The shoes you have in all the colors.” Grabbing his shirt, he pulls it down over his head. His hair is a sexy mess with the soft wave more defined after swimming. “They’re more conservative. More Rhode Island.”
“Connecticut isn’t exactly wild, so what are you saying?”
“I like when you wear jeans and your sneakers, that leather jacket you have, and I don’t know. Don’t take it wrong. I like the good girl clothes on you, too. I like everything on you. And off.”
Grabbing my bra and T-shirt, I start getting dressed. “Don’t worry. I’m not offended. I see the way you look at me when we go out, when my clothes are tighter or more revealing. I wear what makes me feel good, but that look—the one that you wear around me—that makes me want to be very bad.”
A wry grin reduces the air in the vicinity. He has a way of stealing my breath without even trying. “I like you bad, Chloe, but you can be whatever you want to be with me.” Setting his shoes on the bed of the SUV, he climbs in and right over my body. “Clothes don’t matter to me. You do.” He kisses me slow, the scent of me still gracing his lips, and then sits back, putting his socks and shoes on.
He’s given me pure, unadulterated happiness. “Joshua?”
“Yeah?” he replies without looking back as he finishes up.
I reach forward and touch his arm, waiting until his eyes find mine again. When they do, the corners soften. I say, “I love you. Those words will never be enough for how I feel about you, but know the meaning is there inside them.”
“I love you. Bigger than the sky.”
My swallow is too loud when I let my mood dictate the sound. I kind of hate how my heart pounds so heavy for him. It makes me feel weak, vulnerable in ways I’ve never felt. And there doesn’t seem to be a remedy for it other than being with him. I fumble to get dressed, letting that moment drift into the trees where the crickets sing.
Situating ourselves in the front seats, he rolls down his window and starts the engine, so I crank mine down as well. He pulls onto the highway with his hand resting on my leg. My heart is not my own, but his, the weight of him keeping me as if I’ll vanish if he doesn’t hold me here. “Do I fit into your world?”
“You are my world. You’re different, Chloe,” he says, seeming to finish our conversation from earlier. “Life hasn’t burned you or buried you in some hole that you’ve had to dig yourself out of.” He rubs my knee. “It’s a good thing. You’ve been fortunate in life and not left with emotional scars.”
I think about the wounds he can’t see, the ones that have held me back from experiencing life to some degree. A lack of real friends until I met Ruby, and distrust was always an ally. He says, “Don’t overthink it. It was an off-the-cuff remark.” My knee is gently squeezed. “You’re not damaged. That’s a good thing. It’s fun to see the world through your eyes.”
When the wind whips through the window, it feels good against my skin. I lean into it with my eyes closed as the smell of fall sneaks in, rain hovering in the clouds that have drifted overhead. I open my eyes unable to see the moon, but I can see Joshua in the faint glow of the dashboard. Resting my arm in the opening of the window, I say, “I’m not a Goody Two-shoes.” I hate the way I sound so immature and swipe the flyaways from my forehead.
His eyes are on the road, but his mind is somewhere else entirely. I’m tempted to speak and fill in the empty space between us, but I want to know what he’s thinking and that means giving him the room to sow his thoughts. He finally asks, “Why do you care what anyone thinks?”
“I don’t,” I say, tasting the lie. I’ve put so much time and energy into caring what everyone else thinks—my father, my mom, so-called friends in school, teachers, my professors, and now Joshua. It’s not fair to put that burden on him. He’s shown me I can be me in whatever form I want to be with him, and that’s enough.
“You sure?”
My shoulders reveal the weakening of my stance as I slink down in my seat. “Everyone cares to a point.”
“They do, but you should only care about the opinions of people who matter to you.”
The injustice placed upon him starts eating at me. Of course, he’s right, but why didn’t I realize that with anyone in the past. I lean over. I could kiss him if this seat belt had more give. “Like you. Your opinion matters to me.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He grins. At a light, he stretches across the empty space between us and steals a kiss. He didn’t have to steal it, though. I would give him whatever he wants. “Your opinion matters to me, too.”
While I riddle through the changes I’m making in my life, he’s already reached the destination, so sure of who he is. It’s enviable. And attainable, especially with him having my back.
“Good,” I reply, returning to my side of the SUV. With all this honesty, guilt resurfaces. Why’d I ever lie? I should have just told him in the first place and at the very least, when I confessed my virginity. Here I am in the same situation, but this time, he has a right to be mad. “Joshua, I’m . . .”
Turning onto my street, he drives slower, and glances over. “You what?”
“I’m twenty,” I say, ripping the bandage off.
His expression remains steady, and he turns back to pull into a parking spot. After he cuts the engine, his eyes begin to narrow as he stares ahead, seeming to digest the admission. Then his head angles toward me. “I know you are.” His eyes leave me as he looks out the windshield, resting his forearms on the steering wheel. “Why’d you lie?” His voice is deep, his words coming slower.
I hate when I can’t read him. First, his expression and now, his tone. As I stumble through the reasons, none seem legit enough to justify it anymore.
He says, “I’ve taken you to Lucky’s. That’s not bending rules, Chloe. That’s breaking the law, so I’m trying to figure out why you’d let me. You lied about being a virgin and now—”
“I didn’t lie about that. You didn’t ask.”
Wringing the steering wheel, he sends a hard look my way. “Why would I?”
“Exactly. It didn’t cross your mind that I might be.”
He sighs, sitting back. “Look, that is what it is. If I could go back, I might have done things differently armed with the information I have now. For you. But I like our first time, and you seemed to like it too, so I’m not trying to dwell on the act of what we did. But why does it seem like you’re hiding stuff from me? That’s the part I don’t understand.” When his eyes return to mine, he says, “I could have been arrested for giving you alcohol in Lucky’s.”
Wringing my hands, I start to panic, but then seeing his shoulders relax has me easing in response. He says, “I’ve been drinking since I was seventeen, but it bothers me you didn’t tell me important details about you. It makes no sense why you lied about your age.”
“I felt you wouldn’t look at me the same, just like before.”
“The same as?”
I need to remember he’s always taken me as I am, at face value, trusted me, and now empowered me with the opportunity to explain my side of things. “How you’re looking at me now.”
“That’s disappointment.”
“I know. I’m very familiar with being on the receiving end with my father. I can bear to see it on him. I can’t bear it with you.”
Guilt shadows his eyes, and I feel I’m losing him. His hand rubs my leg, and he leans over with a gentleness taking over his expression. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be. You did nothing wrong. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“So, when you said you didn’t
have your ID, you meant you didn’t have a fake one, right?” I nod, guilty as charged. He adds, “That makes sense.”
He pops the door and comes around to open mine. “Look, I want you to know that your age doesn’t change anything other than maybe we don’t hang out at Lucky’s until your birthday. There’s plenty to do legally until then.” His eyes flick up to the building beside us. “How about we start over and not lie to each other anymore?”
I get out and lean against the closed door. “I won’t.”
His hand covers the miles of my waist. “The truth is, whether you’re twenty or twenty-one, I love you, Chloe. I’m on your side.”
“I love you, too.” I fist the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.
“With all this love between us . . .” Swept up, I’m tossed over his shoulder, my voice going hoarse from laughter as I reach down to smack his ass.
“What are you doing? You’re going to hurt yourself, Evans.”
“You’re light as a feather, Fox.”
Carrying me to the door, he adds, “I have lots of ideas, but none of them include being down here.”
I finally catch my breath, my cheeks hurting from smiling so big. We make it to the second floor before I’m righted onto my feet. Starting up the next flight, I shrug, poking him in the chest when I pass. “And here I thought you worked out.”
“I’ll show you a workout,” he says, chasing me up the stairs. “As soon as we get in that apartment.”
I run faster. “You have to catch me first.”
He does too. Just as I reach the door, I’m spun, my back pressed to the wall, his lips on me. Despite the searing kiss, his hands are gentle, dragging along my arms until he reaches my wrists. Pinned by his middle, he brings our palms together high against the wall.
As he tilts his head to the side of mine, his breath is harsh against my ear. I turn to plant soft kisses on the corner of his mouth while my arms come down and around his neck.
“Chloe?” His breath is still jagged, the darker pupils overruling the molten chocolate when he stares into my eyes.
Kiss.
Kiss.