Shut Up and Kiss Me: A Lost Boys Novel

by Jessica Lemmon

  “Just because my three partners have surpassed me? Just because I’ve lost every ounce of passion for law since the accident?” I hadn’t stammered or stuttered once since I left Tasha’s house this morning. I felt such a stab of certainty about my future, every word flowed easily.

  My dad, though I suspected he was impressed, was shaking his head at my insistence that lawyering was not for me.

  “You can finish your bachelor’s degree,” he said. “Go to law school from there.”

  Which would require almost every waking moment of my life. I thought of Tasha, frowning at how little I’d see her if I resumed my full class load. I’d followed a girl to school who left me once. Was I leaving school for a girl this time?

  “I’m sure your friends will let you move in. You can study together. It might be to your benefit that they’re a year ahead of you.”

  “No,” I growled.

  “Dammit, Cade! Finish what you started.”

  “I don’t want to finish what I s-started.” Shit. He’d rattled me, and it was starting to show. I pulled a sharp breath in through my nose and closed my eyes. I heard Tasha’s voice in my head telling me to relax.

  When I opened my eyes, my dad wasn’t frowning at me. He was looking at me like I was fragile, and that was so much worse.

  His voice was soft when he spoke next. “Son, I want you to have an opportunity to make something of yourself.”

  “I’m good with cars,” I stated, speaking slowly. “I can make something of myself in the garage.”

  “No street racing, Cade. I mean it.”

  “Do you th-think I’m that big of an idiot?” My pulse skyrocketed.

  “I don’t think you are an idiot at all. But take it from a guy who knows how addictive illegal activities are,” my dad said. “It was easy money for you.”

  That was it. I’d had it. I pushed out of the kitchen chair and stood, planting my fists on the table. He stood with me. Unlike last year, when he was neck deep in gambling debts and had taken to eating ice cream like it was a sport, he had recently gotten back down to his old fighting weight. I wouldn’t be throwing punches at my old man ever again. I was different and so was he. Plus, he would throw one back.

  “Street racing cost me more than I made,” I said, dragging out the M sound a bit too long.

  He looked away for a second, then looked back at me. “Then take this opportunity, what you’ve worked so hard to regain after losing it, and go back to school.”

  “I don’t want to be a lawyer, Dad.”

  I wanted Tasha. I wanted to be underneath a car for the majority of the day. What I didn’t want was to carry a bus tub through a greasy kitchen five nights a week. What I didn’t want was test anxiety, or trying to fit in with my peers, or getting arrested for knocking Tony’s teeth out, which would happen if I ever ran into him at a party.

  “Think about it, son. That’s all I’m asking.”

  But I was done thinking. This time around, I was choosing my future. And it had nothing to do with my past.

  “Where are you going?” my dad called, but he sounded more tired than angry.

  “To see Tasha,” I said. To tell her my plan. To thank her for helping me gain control, not only of my speech issues but of my life.

  She would never ask me to do something I didn’t want to. My future was with her. I didn’t know yet how that was going to work out, or if she’d even have me, but if I had a chance with her, it was worth taking.

  Chapter 17

  Cade

  I swirled my tongue between Tasha’s legs one final time as she shuddered against me. Water from the shower was blinding me, damn near drowning me, and my knees were sore from kneeling on the hard surface of the tub, but I’d gladly lose feeling in my limbs if it meant hearing her lust-filled voice hug the vowels in my name.

  Caden. Oh, god, Caden.

  I liked when she used my full name.

  Swiping the water from my eyes, I stood and slid my tongue over her breasts on my way up. When I reached her mouth I kissed her, and she kissed me back, pushing my soaking-wet hair off my forehead. She was leaning against the back of her shower, ass pressed to the wall, eyes halfway shut. Her blond hair was a shade darker when it was wet. Mascara was smudged beneath her eyes. I swiped the black away with my thumbs and smiled. She smiled back.

  “I bet I’m a mess,” she said over the spray.

  “You look good enough to eat. But I already did that.”

  She kissed the smile off my face.

  I shut off the water and we climbed out and dried off, me scrubbing a towel over my head and body in record time. She wrapped a towel around her hair in that fancy way girls do, and I watched as she put her foot on the toilet seat to dry her leg. She put that foot on the floor, then dried her other leg and straightened to dry her stomach and then both arms.

  It was a show I could watch all day.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” I said. And damn, I hadn’t even meant to say it aloud.

  “Really?” She sounded surprised.

  I cleared my throat and owned up to my verbal blurt. “Yeah.”

  “You don’t think there will be another girl in a few months? That you’ll have had enough of me by then?”

  I knew where this was coming from, and I didn’t like it. “No.”

  Her towel was wrapped around her body, and I rested my palms on her hips.

  “There were a lot of other girls before me, Cade,” she said, pointing out a time in my life I wasn’t proud of. I was angry with Brooke at the time and, yes, there were other girls. They hadn’t meant much to me, but in all fairness, I hadn’t meant much to them either.

  “That’s true,” I admitted. “But before I turned sex into a sport, there was Brooke.” I swallowed thickly, not wanting to tell her this. “Before Brooke, there was no one.”

  Tasha’s eyebrows rose. “Not…anyone?”

  I shook my head. “We started dating when we were fifteen. After high school came college. We were going to get married. She was it.”

  Tasha’s expression morphed into sympathy for me, and maybe a little hurt for her. I pulled her closer.

  “Then she was gone and my only goal was to forget her. I figured if I slept around enough, they would all blend together until I’d forget her completely.”

  Tasha frowned. She didn’t like hearing any of this.

  “And did they?” she asked, her voice small. “Blend?”

  “After a while. Until…they didn’t.”

  I wasn’t looking at her, but I could feel her stare boring a hole through my head. I met her eyes, needing to root myself so that I could admit what I needed to admit.

  “Until you, Tasha. You made me forget everyone else. Brooke. The other girls. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to say her name without feeling like I’ve been stabbed in the heart.”

  She put a palm on my cheek. “Cade.”

  I took a deep breath and told her what I told my dad earlier today.

  “I’m not going back to school, and I have you to thank.”

  Her brows pulled together in confusion.

  “I’m going to get a job at a garage. Maybe open my own someday.” The words leaving my mouth tasted bad. It wasn’t much to offer the girl standing in front of me, but Tasha didn’t ultimately care about money or her fancy car. She encouraged me to work hard, but not because she wanted me to be a lawyer. More because she wanted me to be happy. And I was. With her. “I’m good with cars. I’m great with cars. If I’d never dated Brooke, that’s the path I would have chosen. I believe that now. I was on the wrong track.” I put my hand over hers on my cheek. “But the accident led me to the right one.”

  “But school…” Tasha pulled her hand away.

  My heart sank the slightest bit. Cautiously, I said, “It’s not for me.”

  Rather than looking happy, or kissing me, or telling me she would accept me no matter who signed my paycheck, her face contorted until it looked a lot like my dad’s
earlier. Like I was a baby bird that had tumbled from the nest and was peeping for help from a nearby bush. She looked worried, and like she didn’t know if she should interfere or not.

  “You are great with cars,” she said, her tone borderline patronizing. “It’s wonderful to have a passion. A hobby…”

  At the word “hobby,” her voice faded beneath my thundering heartbeat. She was still talking, but I only caught every other phrase.

  “…don’t want you to give up on yourself…make something of your life…never stop chasing on your dreams…”

  Every word hit me like a punch to the kidney. My stomach soured; my entire body went on high alert. I blinked at Tasha like I was seeing a stranger.

  My God. I was wrong about her. She was just like Brooke.

  Tasha Montgomery didn’t want to be with a grease monkey. Didn’t want to live a blue-collar life with a blue-collar paycheck. I knew Tony Fry’s family had connections with the NFL. She and Tony hadn’t planned on slaving away at a local rehab facility or the VA. They’d be on the sidelines. Raking in the cash.

  She was still talking when I interrupted.

  “When I approached you at the frat party and dropped my ‘Cade train’ line, do you know what I was trying to do?”

  I could see that she was recalibrating, trying to figure out how we’d gone from the subject of my dropping out of college to this.

  “I was trying to get in your pants.” That was a crass version of the truth. “I knew Tony was a player, and I knew you went back to him no matter what he did. I figured you were an easy lay.”

  Hurt outlined her features and I ignored the breaking sound of my own heart. I kept going, on a roll, and intent to give her a dose of the betrayal I was feeling now that she’d turned on me.

  “I intended to take you home that night, fuck you, and sneak out of your dorm room the second you fell asleep. I assumed you were one of these rich girls who cared only about men with money, cars, and status. And since I was on my way to becoming one of those men, I figured you were fair game.”

  My words had picked up speed, my voice steady, strong. I heard the anger there, each word like a nail being hammered into a board. A strange sense of power poured over me.

  I was back.

  No stammer lingered at the base of my throat, waiting to gum up whatever I said next. My speech problems had become my own personal lie detector. When I knew in my gut what I was saying was true, words came out smoothly. Just like my next ones did.

  “Then I got to know you,” I said, “or thought I got to know you, and figured out you were different. You were different, Tasha, until this very minute. Right now you’re proving you are that rich, slutty girl I thought you were.”

  Her hand cracked across my face, stunning me so much that all I did was stand there and blink. I ignored the sting on my cheek, but let her have the full view of my murderous expression.

  “That is not true, Cade Wilson.” Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, and I steeled my heart against them. A sliver of doubt sneaked in, one that questioned what I’d accused Tasha of. One that suggested I’d made a terrible mistake. If that was the case, there would be regrets, and I knew full well what I was capable of when I was filled with bone-deep sadness.

  And so I walled up. I couldn’t afford to be wrong.

  She yanked the towel off her hair, wet locks falling over her shoulders. “You are afraid. Too scared to go back to school and try! Ultimately, you’re scared shitless you’ll get in the courtroom and choke!”

  I took a step closer to her, grinding my teeth into dust. She was wrong. I wasn’t afraid. Not of anything. Not anymore. I was in her face, my nose almost touching hers. She didn’t look the least bit afraid of me, and she shouldn’t be. I would never harm her.

  “I thought we connected,” she whimpered, the fury leaking out of her eyes.

  “So did I,” I answered. “Until you found out about my aspirations to become a mechanic. Admit it. You don’t want to change your lifestyle. You have a plan, and a blue-collar guy isn’t in it.”

  I waited for her to tell me I was wrong.

  I prayed she would tell me I was wrong.

  Tasha

  “Get out.” I held the towel around my body, covered but feeling exposed.

  I couldn’t believe how far south this evening had gone. When Cade arrived earlier, we’d kissed our way through the kitchen, down the hall, and then tumbled onto my bed. We made love with me on top, and after, we talked and laughed and kissed. By the time we moved to the shower, I had the rest of this evening planned. We’d go to bed naked, watch a movie, snuggle, and sleep in.

  What I didn’t expect was for Cade to tell me about his lack of college plans. To tell me our hard work, and his desperate request to “fix him,” had meant nothing. He wouldn’t be happy giving up on being a lawyer. No matter how he’d arrived at RU, he had a gift. He was taking the coward’s way out, and what kind of friend would I be if I let him?

  “Not rich enough for you?” he asked, needling me.

  “This has nothing to do with that.” Angrily, I swiped the tears from my cheeks. He couldn’t be this dense.

  “No?” He raised his eyebrows in challenge.

  He stripped off his towel, wadded it up, and threw it on my bed. I watched, mute, as he pulled on his boxer briefs and dragged on his jeans. Even fuming he was attractive, chest glistening with water, wet hair messy on his head.

  “No, you idiot,” I said. “What would you care if I did think you were too poor to handle my extravagant lifestyle?” I threw my arms wide, gesturing around my bedroom. “I’m as shallow as they come. If you can’t move me into a house that looks exactly like my dad’s mansion, then I have no use for you.”

  He was shirtless, T-shirt in his hands, and glaring at me.

  “It’s not like you made me any promises, Cade. How the hell am I supposed to know you aren’t going to start going to frat parties every weekend to pick up girls with your bag of crappy one-liners?” I didn’t know that he wouldn’t. Not really. “How do I know that you aren’t sleeping with me because I’m the girl who’s around? I’m the only one who stayed since the accident. No one else would have put up with you!”

  “Why did you have sex with me?” he challenged. “Did you feel so damn sorry for me you couldn’t help yourself?”

  I took a step toward him and pointed a finger. “Take that back.”

  “If you hit me again, Tasha, I won’t be responsible for my actions.” He really did look angry. The shuttered quality of his eyes reminded me of when I first started going over to his house to work with him. When he behaved like a wounded animal backed into a corner. Growling and snarling.

  “I’m not going to hit you,” I snapped. I probably should apologize, but I was too angry to admit fault.

  “No need to lose sleep, kitten. I’m fixed. Your job is finished.” Cade turned his shirt right side out and yanked it over his head. “And so are we.”

  I clutched the towel to my chest, aware that beneath that layer of terry cloth, my heart was aching. Breaking.

  “Good idea about the frat party thing, though,” he said. “Now that we’re through, and I have my tongue back, I’ll go put it between another girl’s thighs.”

  He may as well have reached out and slapped me. I sucked in a breath, hating that he witnessed me gasping for air like a fish on land. He hadn’t lied about the silver-tongued-fox thing. He was good at flaying with his words.

  “Goodbye, Tasha.” He bent and picked up his wallet, which had tumbled to the floor in our frantic haste to get undressed earlier. Again I thought of how far we’d come from pure bliss just a few minutes ago. He shoved the wallet in his pocket, turned his back on me, and walked out of my bedroom.

  I would’ve followed, but I didn’t know what to say. Hurt as I was, I didn’t want him to go. I thought as I stood rooted to my carpeted floor how I’d let Tony walk all over me. The first time he showed me what an ass he was, I should have let him go. It would have
saved a lot of heartache.

  So that’s what I told myself. Letting Cade go would save a lot of heartache.

  I told myself that as I heard him slam my front door. And I told myself that when I watched out the window as he climbed into Blue 2 and screeched out of the parking lot. And then I told myself that again when I lay in bed, in my damp towel, but I didn’t believe it.

  I wasn’t sure if I ever would.

  Cade

  I drove to my house, my temper burning.

  My vision was a tunnel as I drove Blue 2 home. I didn’t know what I’d do when I got there. I sure as hell couldn’t sleep. Maybe I’d pack a bag and go…somewhere. I didn’t know where, but I had the sudden urge to get the hell out of Ridgeway.

  I parked in the driveway rather than the garage, figuring I’d leave soon enough anyway. A silver Honda caught my eye. It was parked at the curb, unassuming, plain, but it was there all right. And it belonged to Joyce Wilson.

  I climbed out, stared at her car for a few beats. It was around two in the morning and there was no reason for my mom to be here.

  Unless…

  Rather than retreat into my room over the garage, I walked to the garage entrance to the main house and turned the knob, popping open the door with my breath in my throat.

  “Dad?” I called, announcing myself, followed by “Mom?” It’d been a year and a half since I greeted them in the same sentence. It was weird.

  Hushed whispers came from the kitchen, so I didn’t turn on the light in the living room, giving them time in case they’d been arguing or she’d been crying. I’d seen plenty of that before the divorce. I didn’t like to see my mother cry. I didn’t like that Dad made her cry. And if he did, and she was in there sobbing, I swore I would—

  “Oh my God.” I froze in place, slamming my eyes shut, and tried to forget what I had just seen: my mom frantically tucking her shirt into her jeans and Dad buttoning his pants.

  No. No.

  No, no, no.