In The Dark

by Monica Murphy

  Well, she doesn’t mince words, does she? I stand, as does she, and we make our way through the dining area of the country club toward the doors that lead outside to the pool area.

  Our parents don’t even notice, they’re too immersed in their conversations. And Sydney is nowhere to be found. I don’t know where she’s taken off to but the lucky little witch didn’t even have to go to dinner with us tonight. Something about her making a new friend and she was going out to dinner with her.

  Whatever. I don’t care what Sydney’s doing. All I care about is this handsy blonde who keeps lunging for my dick. We’re barely outside, there are still people lingering around on the patio, most of them clustered in a circle smoking. Audrey catches my hand and leads me toward the fenced in pool, pushing open the gate with ease, flashing me a smile over her shoulder as she pulls me over to one of the lounge chairs and pushes me down on it.

  I sprawl across the damn thing, my head spinning, my arms out wide. She lunges for me, collapsing on top of me in a weightless heap, her mouth finding mine, her kiss sloppy, her hand again on my dick, gripping it firmly as she squirms all over me.

  Yeah. I’m so not feeling this.

  Grasping hold of her bony shoulders, I lift her away from me. She opens her eyes and glares, her mouth hanging open in this way that tells me she’s pissed off. “What are you doing?” She’s slurring her words already.

  “You’re too drunk.” I smile, softening the blow. I don’t want her to feel insulted. “I’m too drunk. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “Aww.” She makes a pouty face that I bet she thinks is adorable. It’s not. “Are you watching out for my feelings? Not wanting to take advantage of the drunk girl?”

  “Well, yeah.” She makes it sound like a bad thing. “I want us both into it, not so drunk we don’t know what we’re doing.”

  Audrey leans in close, her mouth directly above mine, her hand going for my cock. Again. She’s so damn grabby the thing is starting to wilt. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’ve wanted to fuck you since I first laid eyes on you, Gabriel Walker. So let’s do this.”

  I’m stunned by her little speech. And by the disappearance of that drunk waver in her voice. She’s been playing me. She’s not that drunk. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

  And what she wants to be doing is me.

  When I don’t say anything she flashes me a smug smile and starts sliding down the length of my body, her fingers going for the waistband of my shorts. “Now, let’s get this party started by getting your cock in my mouth.”

  Whoa. She’s unbelievable, this girl. I read her completely wrong. “Maybe not right now…”

  She rears up, disgust turning her face into an ugly mask. “Why not? You gay or what?”

  “What?” I sit up, practically shove her off my lap. She rolls off but like a cat, lands on her feet. “I turn down a blowjob and suddenly I’m gay?”

  “Why else would you not want a blowjob from me? I thought we had a connection.”

  Blowing out a harsh breath, I shake my head, which makes it spin harder. Fucking vodka. It’ll be the death of me. “I’m sorry, Audrey. I’m just—sometimes I get whiskey dick.”

  It’s never happened. But what she doesn’t know doesn’t hurt her.

  Audrey rests her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes. “Men. You’re all the same. Can’t even believe you won’t take a free blowjob.” She shoves at my shoulder and I fall back onto the lounger like a wobbly dumbass. With a laugh she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving the pool area and headed back to the bar, I wouldn’t doubt.

  I should follow her lead. Well, not follow her literally but go get another drink. Drown my sorrows in booze so I can kill the memories. So I don’t have to remember the way Lucy looked two nights ago. The scent of her skin, her hair, how she felt in my arms, the taste of her lips, the extra soft skin of her breasts, just above the lace of her bra. Fuck.

  Fuck.

  My cock comes alive at the thought of her. No whiskey dick here. More like Lucy dick.

  Clearly I’ve lost my mind.

  Staggering to my feet, I mentally tell myself to get my shit together and make my way back inside. I find my parents in the front lobby, looking ready to leave. “There you are!” Mom exclaims, rushing toward me, her pink lips curved into a frown. Her disappointment hits me like a smack in the face and I brace myself for the scolding.

  Christ, what am I? Ten?

  Mom sends me a look before she leans in close and whispers in my ear, “Where in the world is Audrey?”

  I shrug and shift away from her. I don’t need her smelling me. She’s like a blood hound. “I dunno.”

  Her disapproval radiates though she doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t have to. When she’s angry, my mother is terrifying. Just ask Syd.

  Just ask me.

  I follow after Mom like I just got caught breaking the rules and I’m in big trouble. About to get grounded. Dad is talking to his friend, both of them laughing loudly as they slap each other on the back. We wait out front for the car to be brought around and when it is, I climb into the back seat and brace myself for the lecture.

  It comes quick. We’re not even off the country club property yet.

  “You’re drunk.”

  “Not as much as I’d like to be,” I mutter.

  “You drink too much,” Mom counters, her voice like ice.

  I shrug. “So do you and Dad.”

  “We’re adults. Besides, we only drink socially.”

  “Hey, guess what? I’m an adult too, and I love to drink while in social situations. Guess I’m privileged just like you,” I retort, not even caring if I piss her off or not. I’m that drunk.

  That stupid.

  She turns around to glare at me. “You were rather rude toward Audrey during dinner.”

  That’s hilarious. If anyone was rude, it was Audrey, what with the way she kept grabbing my crotch. Girl has sex on the brain. Nothing wrong with that. Usually I’m all for it but not this time around. Not when I have Lucy on the brain.

  “How was I rude? I spent the entire dinner with her.” I lean my head back against the seat, staring at the ceiling of the car. I don’t know how many times I’ve received this sort of lecture. You think I’d grown used to it by now.

  But I haven’t. It just pisses me off, how she treats me like a kid. They both do this. I hate it. They treat Sydney the same way but hell, at least she still lives at home. Poor thing has an extra year too considering she has to go to community college for two semesters. I feel sorry for her.

  I feel sorry for the both of us.

  “You disappeared with her and when I find you, you’re not with her anymore! What happened, did you lose her? How do you even know she’s safe? What sort of gentleman are you?”

  Her constant questions make my head hurt. Like she gives a shit about Audrey. More like she’s afraid Audrey’s going to tell her parents what a shit I am and that’ll reflect badly on them. “I saw her in the bar before we left the country club, Mother.” I lift my head to look at her but thank God, she’s staring straight ahead and not at me. “So don’t try and make me feel bad for ditching her. She’s fine.”

  “Hmm.” Mom’s silent for a moment and the quiet is like a blessing. I close my eyes, enjoying the sound of nothing but my dad hitting the gas or pressing the brake when she speaks once more. “Audrey’s not the one for you.”

  I don’t bother arguing with her. None of them are for me. None of them will ever be for me. I’d rather live alone and never give my mom grandkids than go along with her choices. She wants to map out my entire future, right down to the woman I marry.

  I won’t let her. I refuse. And she hates it. What would she do if I brought home a girl she would totally disapprove of? Mom would flip the fuck out, that’s what.

  A thought occurs to me. Lucy would make her flip out. Yeah, she’s a rich girl like all the rest of the people who live in that community we’re staying in, but she’s wh
at Mom would label as new money. AKA trashy. What with the extra modern house (so nontraditional), the absent father who divorced her poor mother (the word divorce makes Mom shudder) and her nonwhite heritage (Mom wishes I would marry a direct descendent of the Mayflower I swear), my parents would hate Lucy on sight. Not that I’m ever going to see her again. Not like that. I probably blew it.

  Big time.

  And I would never subject her to that sort of treatment either, even if I did continue seeing her like…that. No way. I’m an asshole but I’m not mean. I wouldn’t use Lucy.

  Ever.

  “You holding up okay short stuff?” Gabe ruffles my hair and I send him a mock glare, which only makes him grin in response.

  My heart skips a beat. Okay, maybe it skips five beats and I should be collapsed on the sand, having a near death experience. But somehow I keep it together. I act like his smiles and excessive good looks don’t matter to me. He’s out here on the beach with Sydney and I because he’s running us through some exercises.

  And now¸ supposedly, we’re just friends.

  Turned out Sydney’s big brother is a soccer player who’s gone through excessive, intense drills when practicing. He caught us one day jogging on the beach. Sydney barely breaking a sweat and me tailing behind her with ragged breaths like I’m going to pass out. He of course, looked like a golden god with no shirt on, basketball shorts riding low on his hips, his chest glistening with the finest sheen of sweat.

  I wanted to rub my body all over his damp chest.

  How sick am I?

  Pretty damn sick.

  He started questioning us. Next thing I knew he took over, putting together a genuine exercise program that didn’t make me feel like I was torturing myself while I was in the throes of it all. Yet at the end of the day, I had achy muscles that told me I was actually using them.

  It was sort of awesome.

  Even more awesome? Seeing him day in and day out, every morning bright and early usually—which blew Sydney’s mind, I guess he likes to sleep in—always shirtless, his jaw covered in golden tinted stubble, his blue eyes seeming to see right into the very depths of me every time I caught him staring at my ass.

  And I caught him staring at my ass a lot.

  He approached me after that first day and asked if it was cool that we would spend time together. Did it bother me? Because he would back off I wanted him to.

  No way did I want him to. I don’t want to turn away another chance to revel in his presence. So I tried my best to act nonchalant as I said I had no problem spending time with him.

  Nope, no problem whatsoever.

  We never brought up our last night together. It was better left unsaid, though I secretly wished for an explanation. An apology. Once I realized that was never going to happen, I accepted our new friendship and allowed him to call me short stuff. Though I freaking despised it because oh my God, it’s a lame nickname. I worked past it though. Just soaked up our time together as much as possible.

  Even though he tortured me. And called me by a stupid nickname. And looked so damn good I wanted to lick him.

  God.

  “We’re almost done,” he yells, reminding me that he’s having Syd and I do three sets of twenty sit-ups before we’re finished for the morning. I hate sit-ups. So does Sydney. But I love the way my stomach muscles feel afterward and I swear I see a difference even though it’s only been six days.

  I’m most likely delusional. But that’s okay.

  Sydney flops onto the ground beside me like she’s a dying fish. “He’s such a drill sergeant,” she whispers.

  “I heard that,” Gabe calls and we both start laughing.

  I really like Sydney. We’ve become close in a matter of days, spending a lot of time together. She hangs out by the pool with me and we’ve watched movies together at night. Her mother doesn’t really approve but she also doesn’t say no, so Sydney’s doing whatever she wants. I think she hates being at home so I’m her escape. I think I was Gabe’s escape as well. Until he realized he didn’t want to hang out with a virgin. At least I can drive.

  Please tell me you get that reference.

  “Okay, let’s do this.” Gabe claps his hands together as if he relishes our torture and with loud groans, Sydney and I start. He counts us through each rep, his deep, strong voice carrying over us, urging me on. He never once looks at his sister. His eyes are on me, only for me. I can feel his hot gaze as if he’s actually touching me and I want to prove to him that I’ve got what it takes. That I can do these stupid sit-ups even if they almost kill me.

  “Good job, Luce,” he says as he stops right at my feet. He kneels down, his hands resting lightly on my knees, his gaze never leaving mine as I rise and fall, rise and fall. I pretend he doesn’t affect me, try my best to keep my breathing even and controlled. “Keep it up.”

  I feel the burn of his touch as if he literally sets me on fire. He’s not counting anymore, neither am I but Sydney is. And the second she yells out twenty I lay back on the sand, staring up at the bright blue sky, blinking against the sun. Gabe’s still touching my knees, still crouched right in front of me and I suddenly worry that my shorts are gaping at my thighs. What if he can see right up them, see my panties? I don’t want him to see my boring pale blue cotton panties.

  Do I?

  Ooh, maybe I do.

  “You did good,” he murmurs, his voice low as he squeezes my knees. I feel that touch like a pulse deep in my core and I slam my thighs together, wondering if he can read my mind. Read my body’s reaction to his closeness. He still hasn’t let go of me and I have the sudden image of him skimming those hands up my thighs, to the spot between my legs where I burn for him.

  I so shouldn’t be thinking like this. He’s not for me. I want a good guy. Not scared of commitment, player asshole Gabe.

  “Thank you,” I finally say, lifting my head the slightest bit to find him still watching me, though now his gaze is zeroed in on my lips. They tingle in anticipation and I remember his kisses. His skilled, perfect mouth. Oh crap, I want him to kiss me again. If Sydney weren’t here I bet he would kiss me again…

  “Will you two just get a room already?” The disgust in Sydney’s voice snaps me back to attention and I sit up just as Gabe’s hands fall from my knees and he draws himself to his full height. “The sexual tension between you two is freaking ridiculous.”

  Say what? “I, uh, have no idea what you’re talking about,” I stammer, trying my best not to look in Gabe’s direction. This is just too embarrassing, especially if it’s all one-sided, which it must be.

  She rolls her eyes and hops to her feet, as agile as ever. How I envy her lithe figure, those long legs and her slender waist and hips. “Do you two really think you can pass off as just friends? Gabe, I see the way you look at her and it skeeves me out. I don’t want to be in the middle of your guys’ sexual dance or whatever.”

  Sexual dance? Sydney’s lost her mind. “Seriously, Syd. We’re just friends. We came to that agreement,” I reassure her.

  “It’s a bogus agreement and you both know it. You two are going through this exercise deal as an excuse to spend time together.” She holds up a hand when Gabe opens his mouth to speak. “Don’t bother denying it, we all know it’s true. I’ve been playing along with it because it’s nice to hang out with you, Gabe. I never get to anymore, what with you gone at school most of the year. And I really like you, Lucy. I think you’re sweet. But you’re too sweet for my big brother. You’re not good enough for her, G. And you know it. So either stop hanging around each other or give in to your animalistic urges and just do it. Jeez.”

  Sydney stomps off before we can utter another word. I’m too stunned, too shocked she would say those things to us. To her brother. I chance a look at Gabe and he looks just as surprised.

  “You still had two sets to go,” he says to her retreating back.

  “Take my place. Do sit-ups with Lucy. While on top of her or whatever,” Sydney yells at the top of her
lungs, making me grimace with embarrassment.

  I really hope no one else heard her.

  “She’s just saying that stuff to rile me up,” he says, his tone apologetic as he returns his attention to me. “She loves to piss me off.”

  “She told us to give in to our animalistic urges,” I whisper. That sounds even worse when I say it because I’m referring to the two of us. Together. I repeat, giving in to our animalistic urges. Otherwise known as sex.

  Gabe looks down at the ground, a little smile curling his lips as he chuckles. “Pure shock value on her part.”

  “And that we should do sit-ups with you on top of me.” My cheeks warm just saying the words. “Like that’s even possible.”

  “She’s giving us a hard time. Specifically me a hard time. You just got caught up in the crap.” He pauses and I pray he isn’t looking at me. “You’re cute when you blush.”

  Damn it, he’s looking at me. I glare at him, confused by his words, the flirtatious tone. “I thought we agreed to be just friends,” I remind him.

  “Friends who have animalistic feelings toward each other,” he says, sounding extremely amused.

  This irrationally pisses me off.

  “Look, if we can’t be friends, then maybe we shouldn’t be anything at all.” I snatch the small tote bag I brought off the ground and start to leave. But he won’t let me, grabbing my arm before I can get past him and stopping me.

  “I want to be your friend,” Gabe says, his fingers gripping my upper arm, his thumb smoothing over my skin in a gentle caress. I want to scream at him to stop touching me.

  I want to beg him to never let me go.

  “I-I want to be your friend too.” I lift my head, meet his gaze. He’s not looking at me like he’s my friend. He’s staring at me like a guy whose hot for me would, his gaze still on my lips, his fingers gentling on my arm as he oh, so slowly draws me closer to him. Like maybe I won’t realize what he’s doing.