by Celeste, B.
I rarely have parties anymore—maybe once or twice a year, especially since graduating high school and starting college out of state. When Granddad died from an advance relapse of undetected cancer, I took Robert up on his offer to get me into Penn State with Oliver. I got a full ride and we both played basketball like nothing changed.
Except everything did. Issy and me became more serious and she would come see me every other weekend or vice versa. We talked about moving into a place together after I finished my associate degree in business, because Robert offered both Oliver and I positions at his company. It’s not what I expected, but I had no other plans. The only thing I knew for sure was that I couldn’t stay away from Bridgeport forever. Regardless of Granddad’s death, it’s still home.
On the off chance that I do decide to let the partiers come, like tonight, I use it as an escape from my own problems. After all, I have plenty of them to choose from.
Isabel being the biggest.
By the time I make it out back by the lake behind the cabin, half of my beer is already gone. I settle on the log facing the clear blue water with the moon’s reflection on the surface and a cigarette in my hand. It’s a nice place to relax because most people stay inside or on the front lawn chugging cheap beer or hooking up. The few people that are by the water are talking and joking and it’s just enough noise to keep me from thinking too much.
The thoughts don’t even last long when they do start to resurface, because the silence is cut into by a familiar soft voice. “Since when do you smoke?”
I glance up just as River takes the empty spot next to me on the log. It’s cool tonight and she’s just wearing a pair of jean shorts and a tank top. My gaze settles on her chest for a brief moment, and I can’t help but notice her nipples pebbled against the cotton of her thin top. I look away hastily. If there’s anyone in the world I can’t look at like this, it’s River.
I look back down at the unlit cigarette in my hand before my eyes bounce back to her. Her gaze is curious, narrowed, like she’s trying to figure something out. “I guess for a while now.”
Her lips do that thing where they twitch in silent judgement. She doesn’t want to say anything but worry floods those annoyingly bright brown eyes. “They’re bad for you.”
A lot of things I partake in these days are bad for me, but she doesn’t need to know that. Smoking takes off the edge. Life has been hell since Granddad’s death. College sucks, my social life sucks, my dating life … hell. It’s not even worth mentioning at this rate.
So, I settle on assuring her. “I don’t do it often. Just when I’m bored.”
This time, her lower lip draws into her mouth by her two front teeth. Now I know something is on her mind.
“What’s going on, River? Oliver said you weren’t coming tonight.”
Sometimes I keep tabs on her, but usually stay out of her business. Half of the time Oliver fills me in on her life since we’re not around as much to see her. I know she’s involved in the art club after school still and that Bridgette and Robert celebrated her getting on the Principal’s List with her 4.0 grade average. She’s smart. Other than what Oliver freely tells me, I don’t pry. Much.
What I know for sure is that River doesn’t like parties. It makes me wonder if Stephanie Malone or one of the many artsy kids she’s friends with are hanging around here somewhere.
One of her hands flatten against her bare thigh, right below where the hem of her shorts rides up. If she’s not careful, she’ll flash the people in front of us her ass. Her other hand wraps around a familiar silver chain. Although the charm isn’t showing, I know it’s there, tucked under her shirt. She does a quick sweep around us, her fingertips digging into her thigh until little crescent indentations from her nails appear on her milky skin. The other partiers are too busy drinking, laughing, or making out to pay us any attention.
“I, um …”
I wait.
Her hand reaches for my beer, her long fingers wrapping around the lukewarm bottle as she draws it up to her lips. There’s something on them, I realize. Lipstick, I think. Since when does River wear makeup? I haven’t seen her do that since her fourteenth birthday party, not too many months before Oliver and I moved way.
She takes a small sip and makes a face. I’d normally chuckle over her obvious distaste for alcohol if I wasn’t worried. I know she doesn’t drink, never had an interest in it from what she told me during one of my visits to the James estate. I teased her about staying out and partying and she replied with blatant annoyance over the topic. This isn’t like her.
She clears her throat nervously, shifting on the log and looking anywhere but me. The ground. The lake. The trees. “I want to ask you something.”
I itch to grab the bottle back from her but don’t. Alcohol asks for trouble, but it seems she’s already searching for it.
“You can ask me anything,” I reason, toying with the cancer stick in one hand and squeezing her knee with the other. “Anything, River. Really.”
Her dark eyes lock on my palm where it rests on her leg. The skin just above her knee is warm, too warm. And the problem is, I like it. But I push that sick thought away, far away.
For a few short moments, she’s quiet. Then she says, “Yeah?”
She’s making me nervous now. “Of course.”
There’s another pregnant pause. It’s torturous to have her so quiet knowing that she’s found her voice after the past two years. “Iwantyoutotakemyvirginity.”
The cigarette in my hand drops into the dirt. What the fuck did she just say? Her beet red face makes me think I didn’t mishear her, which makes it that much more shocking.
River wouldn’t say that … wouldn’t ask something like that of me. Right? I mean, I’m still with Issy. Our on again-off again relationship is rocky at best, but I’m pretty sure our current status is on. Maybe River doesn’t know that. I doubt my dating status is something she and Oliver talk about.
My mouth dries up. “River,” I rasp.
Jesus, it’s a million degrees suddenly. The fire crackles in front of us like it’s taunting me, and the wind does nothing to cool down my overheated skin. Pin prickles spread up the back of my neck. And worse, it spreads into my groin.
River’s hand clenches the bottle tighter.
I blow out a breath. “I can’t … uh …”
She downs the rest of the warm liquid in one long chug. “You always tell me I can trust you, right? With anything?”
My heart goes haywire.
Thumpthump.
Thumpthump.
Thumpthump.
“Yeah.” It comes out a croak.
“I trust you with this,” she whispers.
This. Her virginity.
Fuck.
My hand rakes through my disheveled hair, making the moppy blond mess probably look worse. I mean, I’m honestly glad she’s a virgin. I’ve been wondering what kind of shit she’s dealt with in the past, and the things I hear about what some men do to the young girls in the system… The thought alone makes me want to fucking strangle somebody.
Blowing out a heavy breath, I try turning her down gently. “I will always mean that, okay? But you’re sixteen for Christ’s sakes. I can’t do that. You’re … River. You’re young. Oliver would—”
Her eyes pop out of her head. “He wouldn’t know.”
People would talk. Sure, they’re used to seeing us together. But not at a party. If we disappear somewhere, gossip will spread. It’s happened before and I won’t subject her to that. She’s not the lanky thirteen-year-old I knew. She’s grown up. Her figure is fuller, her curves are more noticeable, and she’s … yeah, she’s pretty. Gorgeous, even. People would definitely start talking if they saw us disappear into a room.
I blow out a heavy breath. “I’m not sleeping with you, River. I won’t.”
I shouldn’t.
I can’t.
Jesus, I never thought I’d have this conversation with her. I’m twenty, for crying ou
t loud. She’s jailbait in every sense of the word. As happy I am knowing she fully trusts me, this isn’t the moment I want her cashing that in.
Regret instantly washes over her face. I try squashing it and tell her it’s fine, but she hops up and nearly loses her balance before I can grab her. Quickly correcting herself, she jerks away from my extended hand.
“O-Okay.” She backs up.
“Riv—”
She runs off into the crowd of people.
I know she won’t want to be found, so I sit there like a goddamn idiot soaking in what just happened. The cigarette on the ground begs to be smoked, so I pick it up and brush off the dirt.
River, the girl I’ve known for three years, just asked me to take her virginity. My heart still pounds loudly in my chest, so much that it hurts. I worry Oliver, wherever he is, will hear it.
But that’s not the only thing that stirs …
“Fuck.”
I drop my head into my hands.
11
River / 16
I lose my virginity to Asher Wilks that night.
12
Everett / 20
Bridgeport is different after you grow up. The same people who treated you like another idiotic teen show you respect as soon as you come home with a paper in your hand that says you’re trained for employment through a university. Thing is, I’ve still got another two years before I can do half of what the other people at JT Corporation does.
The city seemed a lot smaller before, like there wasn’t anywhere we could have gone without someone knowing about it. I guess we just needed to know the right places, because seeing it in this new perspective just proves there’s a lot I haven’t experienced.
The apartment I have on the outer edge of the city gives me just enough isolation from the buzzing traffic while still letting me in on the soft noises of car horns, yelling, and construction. I need the noise, it drowns out the demons in my head I don’t want to think about.
“Mr. Tucker,” a man with gray hair greets. He’s got one of the local newspapers tucked under his arm and a large Styrofoam coffee cup in his hand with Landmark’s logo inked into the side.
“Mr. Calloway.” He used to be one of my father’s friends. I vaguely remember him with dark hair and a youthful smile, usually at a get-together my family would host for the holidays. After all, the T in JT Corporations stands for Tucker.
By right, I’ve always had a place in the company whether Robert James pulled strings or not. I just never wanted it. Not until Granddad died, and I had to grow up and figure out what to do with my life.
Mr. Calloway takes the empty seat across from me, setting the paper down in front of himself. I haven’t seen him in years. Once my parents died, most of their friends paid me no attention. Why would they? They thought they could get the job my father was no longer alive to keep, and I was just some boy who had no purpose to them anymore. They were nice to me because of my parents, and without them I became nothing.
I didn’t care until now.
“Can I help you with something?” My voice is void of enthusiasm, hopefully getting my point across that his company isn’t welcome. I like drinking my morning coffee in peace.
“I was just checking in.”
Bullshit. We both know that’s not what this is. What he really wants to know is if I’m taking a spot in the company shadowing Robert. Once I get a grasp on things, I’m sure to move my way up the corporate ladder and get promotion after promotion like my father had done. Once Robert feels comfortable enough, he may give me my father’s portion of the company, putting it back into the Tucker name like it belongs.
Calloway must be one of the people who filled his spot all these years. He’s threatened by me. He wants to know my motive.
I play his little game. We’re coworkers, after all. Civility is something I know too well. “I’m doing well. Robert has been showing me the ropes at JT and I think I’ll do my parents proud.”
One of his large eyebrows raises. “And is that what you want, son? To work at the company?”
I set my coffee down and inch forward. “Let me tell you exactly what I want, Norm.” His eyes widen at the sound of his first name. “I want this interrogation to be over, because we both know you don’t give a shit about me or how I’m adapting. You care about your position at the company because you want everything my father had. So, yes. I want to work at the company, because I want to make my parents proud. Is there anything else you’d like to waste my time with?”
Yeah. Civility can kiss my ass.
He stands abruptly and grabs his belongings. Offense takes over his face but it’s a rouse. I know when people are pretending, and this guy is a world-class act.
Through gritted teeth, he says, “Well, I hope you have a good day, Mr. Tucker.”
“Mmhm. You too, Norm.”
His eyes narrow before he turns and leaves me to my brooding. A satisfied smile tips my lips when I see him yank his phone out and dial somebody as he disappears down the sidewalk. Probably one of his bitch boys at work that he complains to. Even Robert knows he has them.
The satisfaction wears off after a group of the local kids come strolling through the door of the café. It’s a college hangout that serves fancy drinks for too much money, so of course teens and college youth would swarm the place.
Normally, I ignore them. But one of the cocky assholes is someone I’m too familiar with. About two weeks ago, the blond-haired cowboy Casanova came strutting in like he was king of the world. I paid him little attention until I heard him bragging to his friends that he bagged the James girl at my party.
River.
Yeah, my fist got real acquainted with his face after that little remark. Some of the satisfaction his presence stole comes back when his faded black shiner comes into my view. It’s almost healed, but still evident that he got his ass handed to him.
When he sees me sitting in my normal seat, he pales. I just grin and give him a small wave, which makes him grumble something to his friends before sulking out of the café.
I may have told him I never wanted to see him here again, much less talking shit about River. Truth is, I didn’t know if he was even telling the truth. River doesn’t let just anybody into her life and losing her virginity to a Wilks is nothing like her norm. Then again, it’s been two years since I’ve known what her norm is.
She’s changed. Grown up.
Not long after I threatened Asher Wilks, I decided to get the details. Not all of them, just enough to figure out if he’s trying to be cool by lying through his ass. Unfortunately for me, he wasn’t. More than four people saw River and Asher walk out of the party and to his car. All their stories were the same; the two had their hands all over each other. One of the people I spoke to even told me they were pretty sure they hooked up right there in his fucking Civic.
It still pisses me off that River let him touch her. She deserves more than just some hookup in the backseat of a car. If I had just told her yes, she would have been treated with the kind of respect she deserves.
Subconsciously, I know my anger is because of more than River deciding to give it up to Asher Wilks. It’s deeper than that, but I won’t admit it. I’ve always had a soft spot for River because she’s a kindred spirit.
That’s all it’s allowed to be.
Isabel shows up while I’m working, so Robert’s secretary directs her to the small office that’s right outside of Robert’s master suite. She comes in wearing a tight blue dress with her cleavage hanging out and a pair of fuck-me heels that make her long legs look ten miles longer.
My girlfriend is sexy, I’ll give her that.
“I thought we planned to see each other for dinner later.” The greeting obviously isn’t what she expects, because she frowns at my less than amused statement as she approaches my desk.
She rarely stops by. Sometimes she’ll bring me lunch if she knows I forgot to grab the sandwich I make for myself, or sometimes she’ll stop by for other, more sa
lacious, reasons. Most of those involve her getting on her knees underneath my desk and sucking my cock. She never cares when I tell her no, and I don’t stop her whenever she takes me out of my dress pants and wraps those painted ruby lips around me.
The look in her eyes tells me she’s not here for that, and frankly, I’m glad. Issy gives some of the best head I’ve ever had, but I’m not in the mood.
“I just thought it’d be nice to say hi.”
I know her better than that. “Issy,” I drawl.
Her shoulders slump. “Fine. You’ve been acting really weird lately, so I thought maybe I’d come by and help you out of your funk.”
She is here for office sex.
“I’m really not in the mood.”
A sultry smile curves her red lips. “You always say that.”
When she steps closer, I hold my hand up. “I mean it, Is. I’ve had a shit day and I don’t want to do this right now.”
Her arms cross on her chest, pushing her breasts up. The neckline of her dress does nothing to hide what she’s packing under it. “You’ve been giving me excuse after excuse as to why you’re not in the mood. We haven’t had sex in two weeks, Everett.”
My jaw locks. “Keep your voice down. Nobody needs to hear about our relationship, especially not our sex life.”
“Or lack thereof,” she grumbles.
Leaning back, I blow out an exasperated breath. “What do you want me to say, Issy? Settling back in Bridgeport has been difficult. I’m trying to get a routine down and it hasn’t been the easiest transition. I’ve told you about the people who don’t want me back. I need to prove to them I can handle this.”
A sympathetic smile eases her tense expression. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just miss you, Rhett. I thought having you back here would be better for our relationship, but it still feels like you’re hundreds of miles away.”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I try figuring a way out of this. I feel bad for her, I do. I’ve been as distant as she’s claimed, and I didn’t really lie to her. I am trying to get a routine down here while taking classes at the community college to finish the rest of my gen eds. It’s a lot of work to balance.