by Claire Adams
"Hey. There's still some in that pot on the stove. Get you a bowl and join me." I took another big bite and tried to calm myself. Daniel was in jail the last time I checked and everything was fine. It had to be. I couldn't handle another uproar where my mother's life was put in danger. We would need to move, regardless of funding or opportunity. She meant too much to me to let anything happen to her.
"There's plenty. You boys eat it until it's all gone. You know I hate leftovers. It means the meal wasn't nearly as good as it should have been." She stopped by the door to the kitchen and coughed again. "I'm going to turn in early and try to knock this cold out before it knocks me off my feet."
"Alright." I got up and gave her a hug. "No opening the door tonight. I'm serious."
"Tate. It's fine. Daniel is in jail, and I got my shotgun by the front door. No one's going to hurt me. I promise." She touched my face and moved around me to focus on Sam. "Don't let him bring home another slut puppy. Alright, Sammy?"
"Yes, ma'am." He glanced over his shoulder to give her a serious look and curt nod. "Only church girls that sing in the choir for Tate, Ms. Phillips."
"There we go. That's why you're his your best friend." She laughed and turned to give me another hard stare. "Be careful on the bike. I'm serious."
"Alright, Mom. I'll be home late tonight. Get some rest." I moved to sit back down at the table and dove back into my dinner, loving how well my mother could cook. That had to be one of the two things I wanted out of a wife. Someone that could cook and a woman that would love me past my poverty and faults. I wasn't highly likely to get either, much less both, but I could dream.
"Dude, that cough doesn't sound good. Has she had that checked out?" Sam sat down across from me and gave me a hard stare. "I'm pretty sure that's bronchitis."
Sam was in his final year of pre-med and would be on to medical school in Boston in a year or so. I was going to miss him like hell, but the world needed more doctors like him. He was kind and caring, giving and incredibly patient.
"I doubt it. She works at the hospital, and you know she still won't tell anyone that she's not feeling good." I let out a sigh and worked to get another piece of cornbread from the pan. "Don't eat this. It tastes like shit."
"Liar. Give me that." He pulled the pan toward him and smirked at me. "This party tonight is going to be off the chain. I heard Darrin say that they invited the girls from the prep school the next county over to join us."
"Prep school? That's high school, Sam." I shook my head at him. "Those girls aren't legal, and I'm not touching any of them."
"Most of them are seniors, Tate. Eighteen, dude." Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You need to get laid, like, yesterday. You're moody and have dark circles under your eyes."
"My balls are too full? Is that what you're telling me?" I took another bite of my stew before realizing that it was too cold to enjoy. I got up and popped it into the microwave as we continued our recurring conversation about my sex life.
"Something like that." He turned and looked over his shoulder. "Have you slept with anyone since Andrea and you split up last week?"
"Nope, but I'm going to tonight. It's just not going to some virgin high school chick. That's gross." I pulled the bowl from the microwave and walked over to take my seat again. "I want a woman that knows what she's doing and isn't afraid to explore her pleasure with me."
"Explore her pleasure." Sam tapped his spoon against his mouth as he got a faraway look. "I like that. Does that pick up line work? You're the one that gets the girls all the time."
"Shut up." I shook my head and rolled my eyes at him.
"No, I'm serious. Like I'm going to try that shit tonight. I'll just walk up to a fine girl and say, 'Hi, I'm Sam. You wanna maybe go explore your pleasure with me?'"
"Yes. Please do that. Make sure I'm right beside you with a hand towel to help clean you up when you get a drink in your face." I laughed. "It's cold outside, too, so it's likely to scald your girly face, seeing that it'll be hot chocolate."
"Or cider. Could be apple cider." He stirred his soup and let out a grunt. "You remember that party we went to at the beginning of December? Amber May's party? She had cider."
"It wasn't the cider you were interested in." I tried not to think about that night. It hadn't been my finest moment. Where I wanted to be the type of guy who respected women, when it came to a horny girl and a few too many beers, I was nothing less than carnal.
"This is true, but the tits on that pretty Asian girl were incredible. You have to admit, she was sexy." He took a big bite of his stew and yelled, spitting it back out. "Fuck, that was hot."
"You deserved that. She's someone's daughter." I laughed at his scathing look.
"You had her give you head later that night. Don't talk to me about being a good guy." He got up and poured himself a glass of tea from the fridge.
"I didn't ask her to do that. She just kept talking about how hungry she was all damn night. I got sick of hearing it." I shrugged. "She was quick to act when I offered her something to chew on."
"Brother. You have to tell me how you fucking do it. You get laid more than any guy I know." Sam dropped an ice cube into his bowl and started to stir it around like he'd been doing since we were kids.
"You just said that I wasn't getting laid that often, and now I'm a regular slut?" I lifted my bowl to my lips and drank the rest of the liquid in it. Warmth filled me, and I couldn't help but let out a groan. "God, I love this stew."
"Yes, you're a slut, but you knew that. Have your mother get that cough checked out. Seriously." His brow pulled tight, and I nodded in agreement before starting toward the stove.
I paused and decided one bowl was enough. Besides, I planned to find something else to entertain my hunger that night. Sam was right, I was a bit of a slut and it had been too long since I'd gotten laid. A couple of beers and a warm body to snuggle up to was the promise that the night lay before me.
Now to find someone that would turn me on without having to try.
Good luck with that one. She doesn't exist.
Chapter 3
Val
"Um, you look smoking hot!" Katelyn walked into our shared room at the Gamma house later that day and pressed her hands to her hips. "Is Paul coming tonight? He better or he's going to find himself a single man again."
"Please." I leaned over toward the mirror and applied a thin layer of pink lipstick before pursing my lips and moving back. "I hate how fucking tall I am."
"I love it." Katelyn moved up behind me and smoothed my hair down. We were both dressed in skinny jeans, sweaters, and boots. It was comfortable, and yet we had somehow managed to look like we should be walking down the runway at a fashion show. It was due to Katelyn's sense of the latest styles, not mine. I'd have preferred to be in a pair of basketball shorts and an old t-shirt, but that wasn't acceptable. I'd been berated by my mother and my friends enough times to realize that conforming wasn't the worst thing I could do.
"Sure, you do. That's because you're short. A small fry." I sat down on the edge of my bed and worked to finish zipping up my boots.
"Whatever. You're model material and you know it." She sat down beside me. "Why else would the hottest guy on campus be dating you?"
"I give great blow jobs." I glanced at her and laughed as her face contorted.
"Gross." She got up and walked to stand in front of my full-length mirror. "I've yet to do that, but I guess the time is coming. Fucking Martin asks me to do it all the time."
"It's not that bad, actually. Just might help if I liked Paul." I laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. The night was going to suck. I had no doubt that I'd be pushing Paul off for most of it or watching Carolyn show him attention in a way that left me feeling inadequate.
"How in the world do you not like Paul Wright? He's so damn dreamy." She reached for my hands, and I clasped hers, pulling myself up with her help.
"I don't know." I walked to the window and glanced out as various cars lined the front of the s
orority house. "Is everyone going to this party?"
"Yep. It's going to be packed. One of the frat houses off campus is throwing it. Should be wild." She flickered the lights, causing me to turn. "Let's go. Amy is designated driver tonight. She should be here any minute."
My phone buzzed on the bed where I left it. It was my father.
"I need to get this. It's my dad, and you know he rarely calls." I shrugged. "Just go and I'll meet you guys out there. Text me the address. Besides, I'm not drinking, and if I do, I'll just leave my car at the party and ride back with you guys."
"We'll just wait for you. It's more fun when you're with us." She smiled warmly at me.
"No, he's long winded. Really. I'll see you there shortly." I picked up the phone and sat down on the bed, hitting the talk button.
"Alright. Be safe." She closed the door and left me in the serenity of our room alone. There was nothing like being by myself. It was rare, and I coveted it most days. It was the one thing I was looking forward to post-college: an apartment all to myself.
"Hi, Dad." I laid back down on the bed and pushed away the feeling of longing. Longing to belong. Longing to matter. Longing to live the life I wanted, instead of the one that he and my mother demanded for me. I hated business classes, and yet it was the degree that they were paying for.
"Valentine." The strictness in his voice hurt me more than I cared to admit.
"I know. I didn't mean to upset her." I let out a shaky sigh and fought back tears. Did everyone have this much unwanted drama in their lives?
"I realize that, but you know she's been having blood pressure problems lately." I could almost hear a twinge of fear in my father's voice.
"I tried not to respond to her berating me, Dad, but a few things slipped out." I pressed my palm to my forehead and breathed in slow and deep.
I'm not going to cry. I'm not. It's not worth it. None of this shit is.
"She's got the wedding with your sister, her events at the country club, and me to deal with. It's too much for her. You know she doesn't do well with stress. Help me and stop being a drain on her, okay?" His tone softened a little, but not nearly enough. I was at fault for my mother having a rough day, though I'd done nothing to cause it.
"I'm sorry. I'll do better." I squeezed my eyes closed as the familiar sting of tears arrived.
"I know you will, kiddo. Get that leadership role in the Gammas like your mother wants you to. It's a Scott tradition, and you know it would help ease the tension between the two of you. You haven't even tried."
"Alright." He was wrong, but there was no telling him that. When riled up, he was almost worse than my mother.
"I love you, pumpkin. Be safe, and no driving that piece of shit car you have until I can get the transmission checked. Okay?"
"Yep." I let him say his goodbyes before hanging up the phone and tossing it on the bed beside me. The car had acted up once in the last two years, and my dad was being overly precautious about it. He didn't agree with my mother's refusal to buy me something new, but he wasn't going against her. No one did.
I rolled onto my side and pressed my hands to my face as a sob left me. I hadn't had a good cry in months, so maybe it was time to let it all out and hope that I could put myself back together when it was over.
It wasn't the car that needed attention from them. It was me.
*
I hadn't been on the road for more than twenty minutes when the lights on the dashboard lit up and the car started to jerk. Fear washed over me in a large wave, and I pulled over without hesitation. The last thing I needed was to lose control and have the tires lock up. The ice and snow all over the road made things dangerous enough as it was.
After taking a few deep breaths in hopes of slowing my racing heart, I turned the car off and let it sit idle for a minute. My worst nightmare roared to life as I tried to start it back up and nothing happened. I'd have to call my parents to come help me.
"Surely not. Please start. Please. Come on, baby. Please." I rubbed the dash and tried to start it again. Nothing. Not even a sputter or a choke. Nothing.
"Fuck. Really?" I got my phone out of my purse and called my sister Allison first. She and I were close and though she'd been everything Mom and Dad had wanted in a kid, she was humble about it all. They rubbed it in my face, but she never did. I hung up when the call went to voicemail. There was no need to get everyone involved in my business. My dad told me not to drive the car, and of course, I didn't listen. The fact that it was snowing like crazy and below freezing didn't help much.
I sat there, staring at the phone for a few minutes as the car started to grow cold. I would freeze to death before someone found me if I didn't get a move on with finding a solution, but that didn't sound nearly as bad as calling my parents.
"It's the engine. The transmission I think he said." I pulled the button to the hood and got out of the car as the icy winter wind slammed into me. "Shit."
I had no clue what I was doing, but like anyone else with little to no sense at all, I walked to the front of the car and popped the hood. My large winter coat helped to stave off the freezing cold, but my fingers burned with stiffness almost immediately.
I looked around the engine at the various wires and parts, searching for some quick fix on the car, yet having no fucking idea what to even look for. The sound of someone pulling up behind me gave me a jolt of hope, and I moved around to my side of the car as a dark figure parked his bike behind the car and walked toward me.
"Car trouble?" His voice was deep and slightly raspy.
"Nope. I just decided to hang out for the night. I was going to start a fire and roast marshmallows. You want a s’more?" I kicked myself internally for being an ass. What’s wrong with me?
"Right." His warm brown eyes caught my attention. He was handsome, but didn't look like the kind of guy who cared much for looks – or anything else for that matter. "Let me check the engine. Is it turning over at all?"
"Turning over?" I moved up beside him and tried not to notice how good he smelled. Various tattoos danced down his arms and played peekaboo under the collar of his heavy leather jacket.
He pulled off his gloves and shoved them in his pocket as he turned and studied me. He was rough looking, but incredibly sexy. The strength of his gaze left me wanting to blush, but it wasn't intimate, just probing. He was looking for answers about the car and nothing else.
"Turning over? No. I just pulled it to the side. It didn't flip or even skid, really." I kept my tone unfriendly, though I hated myself for doing it. Here the guy was willing to help me in the middle of a snowstorm, and I was acting like a bitch. It was a defense mechanism. I hated strangers simply for the fact that like everyone else in my life, they were probably judging me.
"No, princess. Not flipping over. When you try and start the car, does it make a sound?" He stood up and lifted his dark eyebrow at me. "Go try and start it for me."
"Princess?" I grumbled as I walked back to the car and got in. The image of his face stayed with me as I tried to start the car and nothing happened. He had short brown hair trimmed tightly to his head and the makings of a five o'clock shadow. I wanted to know his name, but it wasn't for the right reasons, so I wouldn't be asking.
He tapped on the window, and I opened the door.
"It's the battery. It's completely dead." He lifted his hands to his mouth and breathed into them. "Did you know that your back tire is going flat, too?"
"No." I let out a sigh and worked to not act nearly as dramatic as I wanted to. "Okay. Well, thanks, anyway. I appreciate you stopping."
"Let me give you a ride back to your place or somewhere. You can't just sit out here and freeze to death." His eyes moved across me slowly, leaving me to feel almost bare in front of him. Some part of me wanted to get on the back of his bike just to see how it would feel to live a little. "You going to a party? A date? I'll drop you off there. There's no way I'm leaving you out here."
"No. Thanks, though. I'll call my friends. Th
ey're just up the road. Honestly." I gave him a tight smile and took the card he pulled from his back pocket. "I don't even know you, and I'm not getting on your bike."
A smirk lifted his kissable lips as he nodded. "I get it, but call my cell if you don't get picked up soon. The storm is only going to get worse. I'm Tate, by the way, and the address on the front is the garage I work at. Bring the car by tomorrow and I'll put a new tire on it for free. You just gotta buy the tire."
He gave me a friendly smile, and my heart fluttered in my chest in a way that left me more concerned than comforted.
"You don't have to do this." I lifted the card, suddenly feeling even more like shit for being rude to him. "My parents are really wealthy. I'll just bring the car by and pay you for the tire and your time. I owe you that much, at least."
His expression hardened just a little, and his curt nod said that he knew my kind all too well.
"I know I don't have to. I want to. Some things have nothing to do with money and everything to do with putting goodwill into the world. It's still free to be nice." He smiled and turned, closing the hood of my car and waving as he walked back to his bike.
I closed the door and let out a long sigh as I dialed Amy's number. He was right. Why the hell did I feel the need to mention that my parents were wealthy? Why would that matter to anyone? It certainly didn't matter to me.
Disgust rolled over me, but I swallowed it down. I didn't need another internal shit storm to deal with. I had enough to concern myself with as it was.
"Tate. Rugged, sexy, philanthropic mechanic Tate." I lifted the card to my face as my heart fluttered again. "Wonder what your tats look like beneath that coat."
My mother would have died to even know that I was wondering about such a low-class type of guy. A mechanic. I loved the thought of making her squirm.
"Where are you? You here?" Amy's voice was loud, and I jerked the phone from my ear.
"No, I'm stuck on the side of the road on the way to the party. My car died. Come get me? Please?" With my parents being millionaires, there was no reason for me to be sitting in a broke down car, and yet my mother wanted to prove a point in not getting me a new car just yet. I could almost hear her voice in my ear.