by Ella Fields
“You don’t need to be a bitch about it,” I muttered.
“This,” she said, her voice still wheezy, “is why I’m thankful as hell I applied to an out of state college.”
“Hilda.” I tried once more as she went to walk away.
“Save it,” she seethed. “I don’t care. I really don’t. You were an okay friend for all of five minutes.” A sliver of a smile appeared as she drew in a deep breath. “It was nice to have known that person.”
Helpless, I watched as she walked into the night, meeting up with some of the guys from drama as they all climbed into a limo parked by the curb.
With my eyes burning, I sucked in breath after breath, determined to keep the tears away. I wouldn’t cry. Not when I’d done nothing to deserve that.
It was so easy to judge, to look in from the outside and assume anything you liked.
That was the problem with window shopping; you never really knew what something truly looked like unless you peeled back the layers and tried on some new skin for a day.
“Sorry, Mike’s throwing his guts up outside. Still can’t hold his dad’s bourbon, no matter how many times he tries.”
I didn’t answer Callum, still staring into the dark lot where the limo’s taillights had just disappeared.
“Hey.” He took my chin in his fingers, forcing me to look up at him as he stepped in front of me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said, swallowing down the unfairness that felt like a damp, cold blanket in the middle of winter.
“Bullshit.” His eyes narrowed, surveying every inch of my face. With years of drama class and a mother who sniffed out lies like a well-trained bloodhound, you’d think I’d be able to hide anything I wanted from him. Or perhaps he simply looked beneath the surface. Unlike so many others. “Tell me.”
He stood eerily still as I whispered the words to him, choking over them as if they hurt more coming out of me than they had when absorbed. “Callum,” I said, grabbing his fingers from my chin when he stared behind me, through the night, to nothing. Lost in the anger that I felt roll off him like a looming thunderstorm.
“Let’s go,” he finally said.
I let him lead me to his car in the parking lot. Let him stuff my dress around me in the passenger seat. His concentration and restraint evident with every stiff move, lingering as we began the drive home in suffocating silence.
“It’s okay. It was just a shock, and I feel … I don’t know. Embarrassed.”
“Why?” The word was shorter than it should’ve been.
“Because I thought she had some stupid crush on you or something. I didn’t even think …” I stopped. What I was about to say rang clear between us in the dimly lit interior. It hadn’t crossed my mind that Hilda might see me as something different, someone she didn’t like at all anymore.
A loud sigh left Callum, then he grabbed my hand, bringing it to his lips to rub over them. Their silky softness were a soothing balm. Something tight inside me unraveled, just enough to breathe easier.
“It’s my fault.”
“That’s why you’re so mad?” I asked, snatching my hand back. “It’s not. We can’t help how other people view us.”
“We can. I can.” His jaw was steel as he gritted out, “And I’ve done nothing but take what I want since I started attending this cesspit of a school.”
“You’ve changed,” I reminded him. And he had. He was never a bad person, just a lost boy who was trying to find his own sense of gravity in a world determined to shift him someplace he didn’t want to be. He’d found a way to compromise, and in that compromise, he found a sense of peace.
“Not before it was too late.”
“You’ve never hurt anyone.”
To that, he chuckled, humor lacking. “I’ve hurt plenty of people.”
I suppose he had, yet I still frowned. I felt like I’d been shut out and locked inside a box that shouldn’t even exist.
Silence returned until we reached his house. The lights were off, save for the one at the end of the long hallway that met the sprawling staircase. Being after midnight, his parents were likely in bed, which was confirmed when we walked past their closed doors and continued down the hall to Callum’s room.
He toed off his expensive leather shoes, his bow tie joining them on the floor before he got to work shrugging out of his tuxedo jacket.
After tossing it on the armchair in the corner, he ran a hand through his hair, sending strands every which way. “I’ve been a dick. This isn’t about me.”
Kicking off my heels, I kept my mouth shut and dropped my purse on the settee by the window, then removed some pins from my hair.
“Here,” he said, coming up behind me as I gazed outside into the moonlit depths of his pool and the gardens surrounding the yard. Gentle fingers effortlessly pried at bobby pins, some hidden beneath the tangled curls of my hair. He shifted my hair aside when he finished. Though the crown remained.
He set the pins on the windowsill, his hands meeting each other over my stomach as he placed a kiss on my now exposed neck. “You’re beautiful, inside and out.”
“I know I’m not perfect. I can be a real selfish bitch.”
He didn’t deny it, which only made my lips tilt. “Yes, but you’re honest. You haven’t changed; you’ve grown. You’re yourself. The bad, the good, and the unbearably beautiful. Combined, they make you something anyone would covet.”
My spine straightened at his words, my heart hardening. “Maybe she was no friend at all. Maybe she never really was.”
“She’s undeserving,” he whispered, kissing the curve of my shoulder and neck. “Anyone who can’t see what I do doesn’t matter.”
We stood there a long while, his lips happy to visit the most delicate parts of my neck, my hands glued to his at my stomach as I let his words, and my own, heal the wounds that’d almost knocked me off my feet.
He was right. And I shouldn’t have to apologize or feel guilty for who I was.
“Take me to bed,” I whispered, turning into him after untold minutes had passed.
“Gladly, but first, I’d like to peel this dress off you with my teeth, then sink my fingers inside your warm—”
Fusing my lips to his, I cut off his vulgar words. Words that never failed to ignite a fire so hot, it threatened to consume every part of me in one pounding heartbeat.
He didn’t use his teeth, but his hands moved swiftly over the bodice of the gown. In a matter of seconds, the dress lay in a pool of silver around my bare feet. His dress shirt next to it, ripped from his body.
The moonlight shone over Callum’s bare torso in luminescent waves. He was magic. Every muscle, every defined square of his abdomen, and every smooth expanse of his skin—all of him, magic. But as my gaze dragged upward, aligning with his face, it was his heart that shined through those eyes.
A heart that matched my own, beat for breathless beat.
A glimmer lit his gaze as it shifted to my hair. “The crown stays on.”
Eighteen years old
Glasses clinked, guests mingling in our dining and sitting room, the latter attached to the opened doors of our patio.
Walking outside the large French doors, I found Renee’s mother fussing over her while a tiny smile tilted her red lips. The silver bow sitting on the side of her head caught the moonlight, drawing passersby’s eyes and my own for a split second too long. Her gown was simple. Elegant. A mixture of silver and navy blue that hugged her curves respectfully, paying special attention to her ass.
My hand brushed over the navy blue lace that sat atop the silken silver material, and Valery stopped her coddling to pat my cheeks. “Aren’t you just too handsome.” A passing waiter drifted by, and she sailed after him, a dainty hand snatching a glass of champagne without him even noticing.
“Having fun?” I asked Renee, my lips brushing her soft cheek.
She beamed. “Bored to tears. When can we leave?”
Our backs were to a small garden, an
d my palm squeezed her plump ass cheek, causing her breath to catch. “Not until after dinner. Unfortunately.”
Her hand snuck beneath my tuxedo, curling around my hip as she tucked her head under my chin. “There’s that weird guy over there, the one who’s supposed to be the new head of security at the firm.”
My eyes searched the sprawls of people in the yard, landing on the guard dressed in a crinkled coat and a worn-out pair of pants that barely touched his boots. His eyes met mine, and he winked.
Shocked, I tore my gaze away. “He winked at me.”
Renee laughed, the sound smothered by my skin, and I breathed in her sweet scent, wishing we could’ve been anywhere else.
“Supposedly, he’s dating Mike’s mom. That’s how he managed to score the job.”
Mike’s mom had been hitting the dating scene hard. A little too hard, if the father of one of our teammates was any indication. He was married, and poor Jethro, our quarterback, was now stuck in the crossfire of yet another Trellara couple at war.
“As long as he’s single.”
“He has no money,” Renee said, untucking her head to look around at the partygoers. Clients, employees, and friends of our families were all here to celebrate the new foreign branches of Welsh Grant Holdings.
“How do you know?” I wrapped my arms around her middle, pulling her back to my chest. “Just because he dresses like a …”
“Like a hobo?” Renee offered.
I laughed. “Yes, though maybe he doesn’t care.”
“No, it’s not the way he dresses. It’s his attitude.”
I said nothing, waiting for her to elaborate. Renee was observant, calculating at times, though she sometimes needed space to string her musings together.
“His posture is easy, relaxed.”
My hands rubbed her stomach. “Mmm.”
With a shiver, she continued, “His eyes, they sparkle. His smile is genuine, always evident in his eyes and his happiness in his loud, abrasive laugh.”
“Yes. No one with wealth could ever possibly laugh a genuine laugh.”
She tipped her head up to glare at me. I smiled, kissing her before she snatched her lips away. “But really, it’s the old beat-up Toyota he drives, the clear surprise over his new surroundings since entering our fathers’ employment, and his coupon collection that really gives him away.”
I knew her smile was proud without having to look. I squeezed my arms around her waist.
“You’re wondering why Mike’s mom has taken up with him then?”
“Aren’t you?”
Her voice was soft, like velvet, but I knew she wasn’t afraid of anyone overhearing. No, she was trying to coax me into telling her my thoughts.
“You want me to tell you that true love happens for anyone?” I asked. “Because I already believe that, clearly.” I squeezed her gently again for emphasis.
“No,” she murmured, stepping away from me. “But I do think lust can happen for anyone.”
With her hand wrapping around mine, she led me over to the outdoor sitting area, where servers were starting to make the rounds with more drinks and hors d’oeuvres.
We took a seat on the small swing chair in the far corner of the patio, but we should’ve known that it wasn’t enough to stop our mothers from making a spectacle of us.
We’d made it through our fathers’ thank-you speeches before they approached. Slowly and with warm smiles stretching their faces as my mother tapped a knife on her champagne glass.
She tucked some blond hair behind her ear, forcing a giggle when someone catcalled to her from out in the yard.
“To our husbands, the most wonderful men in the world.” She and Valery raised their glasses, countless others doing the same with loud cheers.
Once they’d settled, Valery said, “And let’s not forget our children. Our beautiful, almost grown children.” She sniffed delicately, and my stomach sank at the look of horror on Renee’s face.
They were going there.
I swallowed the last of my stuffed crab, taking Renee’s hand in mine and squeezing it.
“Renee, Callum,” Valery called. “Come over here, sweethearts. Let everyone see your beautiful faces.”
I stood first, whispering to Renee when she wouldn’t move. “Better to get it over with quickly. I’ve got you.”
With a jerk of her head, she rose, her palm already clammy in mine.
Claps and smiles greeted us as the gathered crowd stood around the large patio, behind us in the doorway, and down on the deep green lawn.
My mom came to my side. Valery to Renee’s. “Admittedly, Valery and I had joked about it once the Grants moved to town. About how we’d love to see these two end up together one day.”
“Joking, right.” Valery snickered. “We prayed to every fashion god out there, willing to sacrifice our beloved bags for the cause if we had to.”
Laughter ensued, and ever the fans of the dramatic, our mothers waited for it to die down before continuing.
My mom raised her glass. “But we didn’t have to. It seems these two found their way to each other all on their own.”
“Thank God,” Valery said, tilting her head theatrically toward the night sky.
I glanced around the audience, looking for my father or Renee’s. The only two people who could stop this embarrassment from further reddening Renee’s cheeks.
“Will there be a wedding?” someone called out.
My father stepped outside, pausing when he saw the crowd and our mothers, the two of us sandwiched between them.
“Will there be a wedding,” Valery scoffed, taking a long and rather unladylike sip of her champagne before bellowing as she lifted her glass into the air, “Of course, there’ll be a wedding!”
More shouts and laughter, even some clapping. My father approached, wearing a sheepish grin on his face.
“The biggest damn wedding this town has ever seen,” my mom hollered, falling away from my side when my father wrapped an arm around her waist.
“To the prince and princess of Welsh Grant Holdings!” Valery echoed, causing a chant to start, the words following us as I plucked Renee from her mother’s grasp and tugged her inside, waving halfheartedly to everyone over my shoulder.
“This is insanity,” Renee hissed at me as we climbed the stairs.
“I know,” I muttered, smiling at one of the cooks who passed us, heading down the stairs.
Inside my room, I locked the door, Renee removing her hand from mine to pace the rug in quick strides.
Her hands went to her hair, plucking the bow out and throwing it onto the dresser, her fingers tangling in the red waves. “Unbelievable.”
It was definitely the worst they’d ever done, but I kept my mouth shut, loosening my bow tie as I watched Renee.
“It’s like what we want doesn’t even matter.”
I scowled at the black bow tie in my hands, then tossed it to the floor before undoing my cufflinks. “I didn’t realize the idea of marrying me was so terrible.” I’d meant to say it jokingly, but it didn’t come out as intended.
Renee whirled on me, her feet planting her in the center of the room. “It’s not that.”
I looked away from the remorse in her eyes, stung and unable to hide it. I walked over to my bed, dumping the cufflinks on my bedside table and sliding my tuxedo jacket off my arms to rest it over the ottoman at the end of the bed.
“Callum.” Renee’s hand slid around my waist.
“What?”
“Look at me.”
Drawing in a breath, I carefully set it free, ridding some of the tension in my shoulders. Then I turned around.
Her hands, soft and gentle, reached for my cheeks, her thumbs rubbing beneath my eyes. “Such long lashes. I wonder if our children will inherit them.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes. “You don’t seem to like the idea of marrying me, and I refuse to give you a child if that’s the case.”
She laughed, and the sound broke my irritated s
pell. I looped my arms around her, cradling her head to my chest and inhaling the sweet scent of peaches that lingered in her hair.
“Lie down,” she whispered, pushing at my chest.
I let myself fall backward onto the bed, the music and laughter from downstairs a fading thought. “What do you intend to do with me?”
Her fingers worked the clasp of my pants, then the fly, tugging them down with my briefs. “I plan to have my way with you.”
I pouted. “That could make me feel better. Marginally.”
“Oh?” She wrapped her hand around me, and I wheezed out a breath between my teeth. Her hair fell around my face in ribbons, tickling and mesmerizing as I caught her gaze. “And what would really make you feel better?”
Her hand stroked, gently at first, then a firm squeeze that had me groaning when I didn’t respond. “Marrying me.”
She stopped moving. In fact, I think she stopped breathing. “What?”
“You heard me,” I bit out.
“You’re serious about this.”
I held her stare. “I am.”
“Callum.”
“No.” I pulled her hand away, turning us until she laid beneath me, all dancing green eyes and perfect furrowed brows. “You are going to marry me.”
A laugh spilled out of her. “Oh, am I?”
“Yes,” I said.
A confused flutter of her lashes. “I want to. I hope that one day, we do. But there’s that part of me that still doesn’t want to give them what they want.”
“One day?” I asked, incredulous.
Her eyes widened, searching mine. “I don’t understand …”
“We’re both eighteen. Summer has just begun, and soon, we’ll be out of here.” Renee lay as still as stone for an unbearable amount of time that had my heart ticking faster and faster as each second passed. “Say you will.”
“And what?” She laughed out. “We’d just run off to Vegas?”
I dropped my nose to hers, smiling. “Too cliché.”
She exhaled a choppy breath. “Then how?”
“We’ll apply for a marriage license, drive as far out of town as we can, maybe find an old church. You can make your own dress. It’ll be ours. Just us. No one else pulling the strings or weaving the threads.” When I reared back, tears were flooding her eyes. “You don’t like that idea?”