by Sarina Bowen
But I’m too angry to stop.
* * *
A half-hour later I’m still angry. I’m standing in front of the snowboard wax in a ski shop on the outskirts of Montpelier. But I can’t read the labels because I’m still mad.
What does that man want from me? Sure, I’d been a wild teenager back in the day. I’d once had a bonfire party in a back meadow of my uncles’ farm that had left a big mess. But that had been fifteen years ago.
Otto has always treated me like the family loser. My father, for all his faults, had actually liked me.
As I continue to fume, someone appears in my peripheral vision. I get half a glance at a lithe body and long hair as a woman appears and then just as quickly retreats.
Wait. Was that…?
I ease my way down the aisle, past the snowboard bags and ski duffels, and then I peer around the corner just in time to spot May Shipley exiting the store.
Several lengthy strides carry me right out the door after her. May has exquisite long legs, so she’s making good time escaping from me across the parking lot. I put two fingers in my mouth and make a cat-call whistle.
May halts midstride. Busted. She turns around and regards me with a sheepish smile.
God, just one smile from her and I feel better already. I raise a finger and beckon. Then I lean against the brick exterior of the shop and wait.
She lifts her chin and walks toward me.
“May Shipley,” I complain as she approaches. “Am I crazy or did you just leave the building to avoid me back there?”
She puts one hand over her pretty eyes and laughs. “Okay, you caught me. Don’t make me feel worse.”
“Do we have a problem, here?” I reach out and tag her hand, then pull her closer to me. We’re toe to toe, though several layers of winter clothing separate us. Still, my whole body hums at the memory of her riding me in my truck. Gawd. So hot. “I get that our lawyer party date got a little crazy.”
“You think?” she squeaks. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Why? So we had a little spur-of-the-moment sex. You really enjoyed my spur for a moment.”
“Omigod, stop.” May throws her head back and laughs. Her eyes dance, and I’m wearing a giant smile and feeling much more like myself.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I had a lot of fun.” That’s an understatement. I can’t stop thinking about it. Spontaneous truck sex with a long-legged beauty moaning on my dick? That night has made my personal hall of fame.
“Okay. I’ll try.” But the color in her cheeks is unmistakable. It’s cute as fuck.
“Come here.” I pull her into a hug, and she feels terrific against my body. “Let’s not be weird.”
May lifts her face in surprise. “I said that same thing to a good friend once.”
“Did it work?” I whisper because we’re so close together.
“Nope. Still weird.” She grins.
I laugh. And then I kiss her. I don’t even know how it happens. One second I’m just appreciating her smile, and the next second I’m owning it with my mouth.
May lets out a surprised whimper before her mouth softens under mine. I take my time kissing her until her hands spread the two halves of my jacket, finding my chest, gripping my flannel shirt. I need to taste her, so I part her lips with my tongue.
Suddenly my shoulder blades hit the bricks as May presses me up against the wall.
No, ma’am. I’ve just spent five nights imagining a scenario where our next encounter plays out in reverse—with me in charge. So I spin her around and back her up against the wall instead. And for good measure I pin her questing hands in mine, just because I can.
She makes a hungry noise, and I feel it in my balls. And then I dive back into her kisses, one of my thighs between her long legs.
May fights me, if by fighting me you mean she presses her hips against mine and gives me a nice, dirty grind.
I never liked the Shipleys, but now I realize I was hanging out with the wrong ones.
We lose our minds for several amazing minutes until the door of the ski shop opens suddenly. I take a quick step backward to preserve what’s left of our dignity.
Not that it works. We’re both flushed and panting, and I look like I’m trying to conceal a ski pole in the crotch of my jeans.
The young woman exiting the shop gives us a quizzical look as she bleeps the locks on her car.
“Jesus,” May breathes as we blink at each other.
“I know.” Every part of me is horny now. It’s cold outside, but I’m hot everywhere. My clothes feel constricting. I want to drag May back into my truck and have my way with her again.
“What are we doing?”
“Well, babydoll, we’re dry-humping each other in a parking lot.”
“Alec!” She reaches up, clapping a hand over my mouth. “That was a rhetorical question.”
I nod to show her I understand. But then I stick out my tongue and lick her palm where it’s pressed to my lips.
“Omigod, stop.” She removes her hand and wipes it on my flannel.
“You don’t really want me to. Admit it.”
“No, really I do.” Her embarrassed smile comes back. It’s so fucking cute. “I don’t need to be arrested for indecent exposure.”
“Fair enough. But that’s why you’re going to come over tonight. Late. Like eleven.” I’m supposed to be tending bar until ten and then closing up early, because it’s Sunday night.
“Why?”
“Why do you think? So I can strip you down and lick you all over until you’re screaming my—”
May puts that hand over my mouth again. “Anyone could hear you.”
“Nah,” I say from under her hand. She removes it. “I have brick walls at home. It helps with sound control. So even when my headboard starts to bang while I’m fucking you—”
She tries to cover my mouth again, but this time I catch her hand in midair, because I’m a sex ninja. And I hold it in mine. “Just come over. I’ve been thinking about you all week. Once wasn’t enough.” I lift her palm to my mouth and kiss it tenderly.
“Apparently not.” Her cheeks pink up. “But I really can’t get involved with anyone right now.”
“Duh.” I actually roll my eyes. “I’m your rebound lay. Relationships aren’t my style, and I’m allergic to commitment. So we’ll have exactly the same expectations—some very athletic sex.”
Her lips part on an dreamy expression, but then she snaps them closed again.
“Don’t overthink it, counselor. The judge orders you to his chambers at ten.” Yeah, I just moved our sexfest up by one hour. I’ll have to let Smitty close. That means extra pay for him. Which is irresponsible of me.
Fuck.
But then May surprises me by saying, “Okay. Ten.”
“Yay! Sweet.” I kiss her palm again, irresponsibility already forgotten. And here I thought she’d turn me down. “That gets three snaps in a circular motion.” I snap my fingers in a circle while she stares.
“It has to be our little secret,” she whispers.
“I can be discreet, babydoll. The code to the exterior door is 0507. You know where that door is?”
She nods.
“Cool. That code is Nicole’s birthday. May seventh. I’ll leave my apartment door open, just in case you get there first.”
“Okay.” She swallows, looking a little uncertain.
So I do what needs doing. I take her perfect chin in hand and give her one more kiss—short and hot. “Ten o’clock, Shipley.” Then I nudge her toward the door to the ski shop. “Go. Do your errand. Have your Sunday. I’ll be waiting later. Naked. With a rose between my teeth.”
She laughs.
I give her a cheesy wink, then I walk away, feeling a whole lot more optimistic than I did an hour ago.
Chapter Eleven
May
“May? Hello? Are you with me?”
“Hmm?” I look up just as my younger brother Dylan snaps his fingers in front of my face.
“Is there something you want to share with the class?” he asks. “It’s not nice to just zone out in the middle of a conversation. Gonna give me a complex.”
Whoops. “I’m just thinking about work.”
“Really?” He grins down at me. Dylan is six-two, because we’re a freakishly tall family. “That’s funny. Because when I think about work I do not do this…” He puts on a cheesy smile, melts against the butcher-block worktable and then lets out a dreamy sigh.
“I did no such thing.” I hope. “Now will you please bring me three eggs?”
Smiling evilly, Dylan points. There are three eggs on the surface of the table. Right in front of me. Damn it. I really was zoning out. “Thank you,” I grunt. “Now would you help me slice all these potatoes?”
“I’ve got a paper to write,” he says, as I knew he would. It’s the perfect excuse, since Dylan is chipping away at undergrad courses at the University of Vermont.
“I’ll bet.”
He disappears, and I have the kitchen to myself again. I volunteered to make dinner because I needed a task to keep my hands busy. The weekend had been a drag so far—too much togetherness punctuated by flashes of embarrassment and doubt. I’ve spent a lot of time knitting row upon row of Alec’s sweater and feeling claustrophobic.
Also, Lark called, and I let it go to voicemail. She sent a text afterward. Just checking in to see how you’re doing. A pity text. She’s checking in on her poor little friend who just got dumped. The same poor little friend who’s been on the wrong side of Lark’s unrequited love for, oh, much of a decade.
I know I’ll have to look her in the eye again soon. But not this weekend.
That’s why earlier today I’d volunteered to get everyone’s skis sharpened before the snowfall. I’d been too cooped up at home, and too deep inside my own head. Dylan had gleefully loaded everyone’s skis into my brother’s truck, and I’d driven into Montpelier just for a moment of freedom.
Running into Alec had been a complete surprise. Not that it was statistically improbable—the whole county was sharpening up its skis and snowboards for the start of winter. But then I’d ducked him like a coward until he called me out on it.
I grab one of the eggs Dylan brought me and crack it into a bowl. It’s five o’clock already. In a few hours Alec is expecting me to show up at his apartment for some very meaningless naked fun.
And I’m absolutely going for it.
My family would not approve. Alec is a player. They’ll think I’ve lost my mind. They’ll look at it as self-destructive behavior.
That’s why they aren’t going to know.
Alec takes me out of my head, and that’s like therapy. I totally forgot myself today outside that store. His kisses are dangerous, and it’s been a long time since I felt like that—reckless in a fun way. Like the fun-loving party girl I once was.
Granted, my party-girl persona was retired for good reason. I don’t want to go back to the days of drinking and lying to myself about my problem. But there are other kinds of fun. Harmless fun. I can be a party girl with Alec for a few hours. I miss the feeling of letting go and just seeing where the night takes me.
This one is taking me to a loft over the Gin Mill.
* * *
A few hours later I feel sheepish, though. Putting this plan into action is trickier than I thought.
“I’m heading out for a couple hours,” I say after watching a comedy in the den with my family.
Even though I was trying for nonchalance, three heads swivel in my direction.
“Really?” Mom asks. “It’s almost nine thirty.”
“I know,” I say, brushing invisible dust off my jeans. “A friend wants to see the ten-fifteen movie at Merrill’s. So I’d better run.” It’s a ridiculous distance to drive for a late movie.
“What friend?” my mother asks just as Dylan says, “What movie?”
Good lord. “Selena from the law school. That’s the friend, not the movie.” I turn my back on them. There is no Selena from law school, but that name just popped out.
I’m twenty-seven but right now I feel like a seventeen-year-old again. Lying to my family is stupid. On the other hand, it’s none of their business where I’m going right now. And I’m not doing anything wrong.
“You’re driving to Burlington in a snowstorm?” Grandpa asks.
Now that’s a better point. “Well…” I turn to face four concerned people. “I’ll text Selena and see if she wants to watch a movie at home instead. And if we get dumped on, I’ll crash on her couch. But I really need to be with friends tonight.”
There’s a silence while they scrutinize me. I let their stares linger for a long moment, then I turn and get the heck out of there.
As I drive to Alec’s, the snow begins to fall. And by the time I’m keying his niece’s birthday into the downstairs security system, fat flakes are falling from the sky.
I climb the steps to his third-floor apartment with a flutter of anticipation in my belly. What the hell am I doing here? I’m still a little baffled. One sexual encounter with Alec could be written off as a fluke. But two?
I’ve been thinking about you all week, he’d said. Once wasn’t enough. I can’t believe Alec Rossi is attracted to me. He could have anyone. And he probably does.
One of my mother’s platitudes floats into my brain. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. So I climb the rest of the way to Alec’s door.
There’s a sticky note on it. Come in, it says. It’s unlocked.
Well, then.
I open the door to a gorgeous open-plan living space. The exposed brick walls give everything a rosy hue. There’s a double-height ceiling with exposed wooden beams. The windows stretch nearly the height of the room.
It’s a freaking glorious space, with comfortable furniture around a giant coffee table. I just stand there and gape for a long minute. Living here would feel like living in an architecture magazine.
Alec has hung a massive TV on the wall. In the dictionary, under “party pad,” there’s a photo of this room. There’s even a hip-hop tune playing at low volume on hidden speakers.
When we were teenagers, Alec was known as the guy who arranged the bonfires in the woods on the weekends. He always knew somebody who could be convinced to buy a pony keg for the high school kids to drink in the meadow. I’m five years younger, but his reputation precedes him.
It gives me a thrill to know that I’m the girl who caught his eye, if only for a night. And that he thinks I’m fun.
This apartment perfectly accommodates the grown-up version of his partying lifestyle. The only thing missing is the party boy himself.
When I glance down to admire the polished wooden floors, I spot another sticky note. It reads: Right… And there are two more leading toward a set of sliding glass doors. This… And Way…
Alec is on his terrace? In the snow?
When I slide the door open, I hear the burble of water before I see the Jacuzzi.
The snow is falling softly onto the deck boards. But Alec looks toasty warm in his hot tub on the terrace, casually devastating and probably naked in the hot water. He’s frowning at something on his phone—holding it over the edge of the tub where it’s not in peril, his forehead creased with irritation.
He doesn’t see me. “Hi,” I say, hoping not to startle him too badly.
Big, dark eyes lift to mine. “Hi! Sorry. I didn’t hear you over the jets.”
“Nice spread you’ve got here,” I say to the man in the tub. Just like his apartment, the terrace is gorgeous. “The only thing I know about you is that you like to party. Now I can see how you earned your rep.”
“Ah, well. Apparently I’m typecast.” His face shutters, and I wish I hadn’t said anything. “Care for a soak? It’s nice in here.”
I hesitate because it’s cold. I mean—I came here knowing I’d get naked. But performing a strip tease in the snow wasn’t really part of my plans.
He grins up at me. “Here, tak
e this inside if you don’t mind?” He offers his phone. “Then change into the robe on the back of the bedroom door. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
As his smile widens, I feel a riffle of excitement. I want this, I remind myself. We’re here to have fun. “Be right back,” I tell him. Inside, I locate his bedroom down the only corridor. Alec has a king-sized bed, and it looks freshly made. Ready for a night with me.
Good lord. He must be the king of hookups. I’m out of my element. I’m also flattered. There was a time in my life—in college—when I ran a little wild. I like thinking that Alec can see the fun girl in me. Maybe she isn’t totally gone.
When I set his phone down on his dresser, it’s still lit. Alec had been reading a news article. “Giltmaker Looks to Expand, Scouting Locations for a Brew Pub.”
Seems like he’s getting a little local competition. No wonder he was wearing that frown.
I find a fluffy velour robe exactly where he said it would be, and I strip off my clothes, folding them neatly onto a chair, tucking my panties under my jeans in a way that seems prim given my intentions.
It’s been a while since my hookup days. A long while. I don’t remember the protocol.
Pulling the robe around my body, I tiptoe across those wood floors back to the terrace door. The cold is a shock when I open the door and step onto the freezing deck boards.
Alec has relocated to a spot in the tub that’s facing away from me. “Okay girlie,” he says. “Strip fast and jump in. If you overthink it, your feet will freeze.”
I can’t help but laugh. Alec is a hoot. “This is like the polar bear’s club,” I point out.
“No ma’am.” He shakes his head. “It’s warm in here. The longer you stand there the colder you’ll get.”
I toss the robe just inside the door and now I’m stark naked on the terrace. After closing the door, I hurry over to the side of the tub, my boobs bouncing. I’m laughing even as I throw a leg over the side. I sink into the hot water until I’m submerged up to my shoulders in bubbling warmth. “Wow,” I gasp as the heat envelops me.