Revenge Love

by Kata Čuić

  He’d have to lay on first to even need to lay off. Between his pity party and the party I just left, there must be steam shooting from my ears. I whirl around to face him and blurt, “Do you own a cock ring?”

  Jason blinks slowly. “What?”

  My whole body vibrates with tension. Every suggestion fired my way tonight pours out of my mouth. “Do you, or have you ever, been in possession of a cock ring, handcuffs, a whip, nipple clamps, or something called a spreader bar? Do you prefer spanking with your bare hand or would you rather use a crop? When you’re fucking someone’s brains out, do you suddenly turn into a feral animal, growling instead of speaking in English?”

  Somewhere in my overheated brain, I realize I may be crossing a line I’m not supposed to know about.

  He snaps out of his stupor, shaking his head as he heads into the kitchen to pull a bottle of beer from the fridge. “What the hell do you do at those meetings?”

  “Do you want to know what I did for the past two hours? Do you really?” I practically scream. I’m ten seconds from pulling my own hair out.

  He leans against the counter, taking a long pull from the bottle as he watches my meltdown with a surprisingly calm expression. “Probably not, but since this is the most you’ve talked to me in weeks, sure. Yeah. Tell me all about it.”

  “I had to listen, in detail, to a group of obviously horny women make a bunch of assumptions about our,” I swing my finger wildly between us, “intimate life. They’re convinced you’re some kind of sex god who has moves they’ve only seen in porn. Lisa’s certain you tie me up and smack my ass red every night.”

  He nods slowly like he finds these scenarios entirely plausible. “I have no idea who Lisa is, but I’m starting to think women are way kinkier than most guys give them credit for.”

  “You have no idea!” I grab the beer from him and chug the remainder before slamming the empty bottle down on the counter with a thump loud enough to echo off the tile. “They actually asked me how I could walk so well after being fucked raw on the regular. You’ll be happy to know in addition to your amazing body, they’re all ninety-nine percent sure you’re packing above average length and girth below the belt. Oh, it started out subtle enough and in good fun at first, but the more they drank, the worse it got! And the whole time, I just had to smile and nod and act all coy about it, pretending everything they imagine is true!”

  I pull another bottle of beer out of the fridge and treat it the same as the first.

  “Why are you so mad about this? Don’t their assumptions prove we’re doing a good job of faking it?”

  “Oh, that’s another thing! You’re also some kind of magical unicorn man who goes down on me for hours at a time, so I’d never have to worry about faking it with you!”

  A subtle vibration rattles Jason’s firm chest. The expression on his face never changes, but as the seconds tick by, his whole body succumbs to convulsions. Finally, he throws his head back, laughing his ass off. At me. Obviously. “I think I like their fantasies way better than yours.”

  That’s it. I erupt. I throw my next bottle cap at him along with a blood-curdling scream of frustration.

  “Oh, Sunshine,” he wheezes through his laughter. He’s doubled over at the waist, holding onto the counter for support. “Don’t hide behind anger. You know you want this.”

  “I do.” I can’t stop thinking about it. As predicted, my newly developed buzz only burrows the idea further under my skin until my body physically shakes with the monumental effort of holding back.

  Instantly, Jason sobers. He straightens, an expression bordering on fury descending on his face. “No.”

  Before the rejection can settle in, he tears across the room to the front door. “You have a perfectly good replacement vibrator. I even installed the batteries for you and tested it out. My hand isn’t your clit, but it felt strong, solid. I think I picked a winner. You should finally use it, soothe your sexual frustration, and get your head back in the game.”

  Is he seriously refusing me? Again?

  “I hate you,” I shout.

  He grins through a crack in the door. “Which means you don’t love me. Just like I promised. Get yourself off, get a good night’s sleep, and be ready to go by seven. I want to beat the holiday traffic.”

  Oh, shit. I totally forgot we’re driving home together for Thanksgiving tomorrow.

  My long weekend of reprieve just turned into an awkward level of hell I wasn’t sure existed until this very moment.

  Lie: You never see the hit coming until you feel it on your face.

  Jason shakes my shoulder. “You can stop pretending to sleep now. We’re here.”

  I make a show of yawning and stretching, not even caring if he doesn’t believe me. “You woke me up at the ass-crack of dawn. I wasn’t pretending.”

  “Oh, okay,” he chuckles. “Then, you just magically responded when I voiced my concerns about Ro staying on campus for the holiday. It’s miraculous how you spoke to me for fifteen minutes right smack in the middle of our three-hour drive.”

  I chew on my lip and choose to ignore his accusation in favor of weightier problems. “I can understand she didn’t want to go home and didn’t want to come with me, but I thought for sure she’d agree to go to your house. You’re her BFF after all.”

  He gazes out the driver’s side window with an expression of anger which intensifies his features. “I worry about her. She wasn’t ready to come out, and she’s not handling it well.”

  That’s odd. I would have agreed one hundred percent at first, but she seems to be doing much better.

  Jason faces me, the fury on his face increasing. “Why the fuck did you let her do that? It’s one thing to be angry at her for keeping a secret from you, but it’s a totally different story to let her sacrifice herself for me. I never asked for anyone’s help, and I sure as hell wasn’t planning to drag anyone else down with me. You were so righteously pissed at us for our perceived sins against you, but you’re a worse friend than both of us combined!”

  His words slap me into a state of open-mouthed dumbness. An eternity passes before my mind can wrap around the full meaning of his charge enough to form a response. Maybe if I wasn’t already wallowing from last night’s events, I might be able to take a step back and consider the reasons for his surlier than usual behavior this morning, but not only am I embarrassed, I’m also angry at the depth of the situation I’ve gotten myself into. “Excuse me? First of all, I had no idea what she was going to do before she did it, precisely because she’s so good at keeping secrets. Second, maybe if you did a better job of living your life to the fullest instead of hiding behind your perceived flaws, Ro and I wouldn’t feel the need to try to help you. And don’t even get me started on comparing apples to oranges. I have never done to you two what you’ve done to me.”

  Just as Jason opens his mouth to likely cut me again, a shrill squeal pierces the momentary silence of the car.

  The next few moments play out in extended slow motion, more horrifying than any thriller movie I’ve ever watched. We turn our gazes in unison toward the direction of the sound, only to see my mom bearing down on the driveway like an out-of-control steamroller, hell-bent on razing everything in her path, including the snowflake lights lining the walkway. She bulldozes a few, but never seems to notice nor lose momentum. There’s a scary glint in her eyes like nothing I’ve ever witnessed before. The loony grin on her face could be a by-product of one too many mimosas to inaugurate the long holiday weekend, but that hope evaporates quickly when she knocks on the window until I give in and open the door.

  “Jason! I was hoping I’d catch you before you dropped her off! Thank you so much for bringing her, by the way. I’m up to my elbows in dinner prep for tomorrow, and Tom took the boys to the mall for the day to keep them out of my hair. I’ve been dying for a chance to meet you in person all these years, and honestly, I’ve been getting more and more worried Emma has been hitchhiking home with complete strangers, becau
se surely my daughter wouldn’t be so rude as to never once invite her good friend in to meet her mother. Please, won’t you spare a few minutes and indulge an old woman’s fancies?” She sucks in a deep gulp of freezing air once she’s made her case.

  There are so many things wrong with this scenario. Number one, my mom isn’t that old and certainly doesn’t look it. Number two, my dad’s car is in the driveway, right next to where Jason parked. He and the twins are definitely still home. Number three, it’s only ten in the morning. She won’t start dinner prep until tonight, and even then, it’s not a big deal since she’s only cooking for our immediate family, and I always help. And last but not least, she knows darn well I invite Jason in, but he always declines.

  I narrow my eyes at her. My mom has made her opinions of Jason well-known to me. Is she taking a turn at playing matchmaker?

  As if the past twenty-four hours haven’t been bad enough, Jason further shocks me by acquiescing all too easily to her request, considering he was biting my head off only moments ago. “I’d love to come in for a minute, Mrs. Hastings. Thanks for the invitation since Emma’s never given me one.”

  “What?” I hiss at him as soon as my mom turns to practically skip back to the house. “If I’m such a horrible friend, why do you even want to come inside all of a sudden?”

  “To pump your mom for info about what you’ve been telling her about me.”

  My heart stops. Jason getting any dirt out of my mom is the least of my concerns. No. What has my entire body flash-freezing is the grin on his face. Panty-melting is the only word to describe it. Poof. They’re gone. Up in flames.

  Damn him. If only the ladies at school could see him now.

  After last night’s rejection, there’s no way he’s doing this for any reason other than to torture me.

  I grab my weekend bag out of the back seat and follow him to the front door, taking my sweet time about it since it’s the only card I have to play. Maybe if I’m really lucky, there’s a trap waiting to greet him inside in the form of my dad and brothers staging an impromptu interrogation over his intentions toward me. Yes, I realize the joke’s on my family. No, I don’t care to set them straight if it means making Jason squirm a little.

  An irrepressible grin spreads across my lips when I step into the foyer to find my brothers engaged in a stare-down with Jason. Just as quickly, my victory turns to ash when I realize the expressions on their matching faces aren’t suspicion but rather disgust.

  I clear my throat. “Boys.”

  They don’t flinch at my biting tone. Jason puts a hand on my arm to stay my attack, then whispers in my ear. “Easy, tiger. Let them stare. They’re just trying to make sense of what they see. If you want them to accept it, then they have to first get used to it.”

  A sense of awe mixed with unease creeps over my muscles. Was Jason aware of how long it took me to get used to his appearance? Did he notice my staring, too?

  I shake off the questions. I already know the answers. He didn’t know I existed in high school, so he couldn’t have been aware of his effect on me.

  Jason meets their gazes head-on, tilting his head to the side as if he’s waiting for their judgment. His shoulders are relaxed, the expression on his face is neutral, but he remains plastered to my side.

  Chris, the oldest by two minutes—a distinction he takes very seriously—is first to recover and speak. “Are you banging our sister?”

  Jason nods, but his expression remains unchanged. “Yep.”

  A different sort of horror washes over me. As much as I expected the boys, and maybe even my dad, to give Jason shit, I never thought he’d dish it right back.

  Derek is usually the hot-head of the family by virtue of being the baby—a position he also relishes because he uses it to his advantage to get away with things Chris and I never could. He narrows his eyes. “If we ever hear any complaints about the way you treat Emma, we’ll make sure your face is the best-looking part of your body by the time we’re through with you.”

  Jason nods again. “Noted.”

  Seeming satisfied with his acceptance of the hierarchy, the twins take their leave. Probably to high-five each other and bump chests at the success of their patriarchal coup.

  “I like them.” Jason thumbs in the direction they went.

  “You’re not going to like them so much when they tell my dad what you just admitted. Which is a total lie.” The sting of last night seems sharper than ever. “Why would you do that? Do you have a death wish?”

  His stupid smirk suggests he’s not at all afraid. “They’re fifteen. There’s nothing I could have said that would have convinced them otherwise. Sex is all they think about.”

  I cover my mouth with one hand while putting up the other to stop his gross assumptions. “My brothers do not think about me having sex,” I choke out.

  “Of course not. That’s disgusting. They were thinking about me having sex.” He grins.

  I’m not sure whether to punch him or run an interrogation of my own. He seems awfully pleased with himself for someone who supposedly hasn’t had sex in years.

  “So, you’re banging my daughter, huh?” My dad appears in the same doorway the twins disappeared through.

  “No,” Jason drags out, shaking his head in the same slow motion as he made the opposite movement before. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

  Though my stomach still rolls with nausea, a glimmer of hope bubbles in my chest. My dad will surely end this game and put Jason in his place. Then, maybe he’ll leave, and I can get on with my weekend of relaxation.

  Jason delivers a swift blow to my anticipation with another grin directed at me. “I assure you I never bang your daughter. I only make slow, careful, respectful love to her.”

  I wince, bracing myself for Jason’s imminent death. Such a shame I’ve invested so much time to help him, only for him to fall on the sword. There’s nothing I can do to save him from himself, apparently.

  Dad takes a few steps forward, but Jason never cowers. The moron puts his arm around me instead. He’s really set on ending his own misery, it would seem.

  “Ha!” My father barks out a laugh at the same moment he slaps Jason’s shoulder hard enough for the impact to reverberate through me. “What a card! Emma, honey, why have you kept this joker away from us for so long? He gets my stamp of approval.”

  “Everyone has lost their minds,” I mutter, disentangling myself from Jason’s arm. Maybe Dad’s been hitting the sauce, too. Might as well jump on the crazy train since I’m obviously not going to escape it. I direct a pointed glare at Jason and say in a louder voice, “Actually, Daddy, he refused to give me an orgasm last night even though I practically begged. So, I’m fine if you want to castrate him after all. He doesn’t take nearly as good care of me as you would want for your only daughter.”

  A devious grin of my own splits my lips. Killing two birds with one stone has never felt so efficiently sweet. If my family wants to discuss my sex life, then I won’t hold back. And if Jason thinks he’s going to win this round, he’s got another think coming.

  Dad turns to Jason with a frown. “Was she talking your ear off until your brain went numb? I don’t blame you a bit, son. When the Hastings women start up their mouths, there’s no worse mood killer in the world.”

  Much like last night, Jason’s whole body shakes, his entire face red enough to mask his birthmark. “She could talk a dead person back to life.”

  “Sure, but the problem is they can also talk a boner to death.”

  Jason loses it, howling with laughter.

  My revenge thoroughly thwarted, I escape to the safety of the kitchen with my tail tucked between my legs.

  It’s obvious by the way my mom looks too casually casual that she was eavesdropping on the entire scene in the foyer. Her brown eyes sparkle over the rim of her coffee cup she holds in front of her mouth like it can possibly hide her wide smile. “So? Do you think he likes us?”

  “This horrible morning I’d rathe
r forget is an attempt to make him like you?”

  She sets her mug on the island a little too hard, coffee sloshing onto the otherwise pristine marble. “Is he faking it? Is he secretly terrified? I thought things went well with your father. They seem to get along fine.”

  My head pounds with a caffeine-withdrawal headache since we left campus before I’d ingested a single drop of coffee. Frustration has been building inside me since last night. I throw my hands up in the air. “Why do you care if he likes you?”

  Mom frowns, but sensing my distress, pushes a clean mug my way and motions toward the coffee pot. “It’s obvious he means a lot to you. We thought maybe you were keeping him from us out of a sense of embarrassment, so we made a family plan to act as normal as possible and make him feel at ease around us.”

  The wind deflates from my sails as tears well in my eyes. “You–you thought I was embarrassed of him?”

  Mom shrugs but averts her gaze—a sure sign I’m right. “Well, you’ve been talking my ear off about him since freshman year, but this is the first time he’s ever set foot in our home. Since you mentioned he went to high school with you, I looked in your senior yearbook out of curiosity. You never once told me what he looks like.”

  “Because it’s not the most important part of him, Mom.” The lines of truth and lies feel so blurred, but that statement resonates from a deep space within me that won’t be silenced by second-guesses.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that.” Her shoulders actually sag with relief. “It’s so clear from what you’ve told me that he loves you deeply. Any man who would make your coffee in the morning and tell your father he respects you is a keeper.”

  Yeah, and what would she think if she heard all the things he said to me in the car before she interrupted? I never told my mom the truth about Kieran because I didn’t want her to be disappointed in me. I keep my mouth shut about Jason because I don’t want her to be disappointed in him.