Last Girl

by K. S. Thomas

  I’m just buttoning up my shirt when I hear the water go on and realize she’s getting in the shower. Jesus Christ, I’ve never wanted to unbutton a shirt again as badly as I do right now. But I won’t. No. I will however turn on some music to drown out the sounds that remind me of her naked body and the way she sounds and feels and tastes when I get to touch her.

  After I finish getting ready I set off for the garage to track down the supplies I’m going to need for tonight. I also make the call I should have made before I got myself all hyped up with the idea. He’ll say yes. I know he will. But I still need to hear him say it.

  “Pop?”

  “You’re not calling for more advice you don’t want, are ya?” The old man chuckles at his own joke. So do I.

  “Actually, I’m good on advice. That last bit you gave me stuck. Which is the actual reason I’m calling. I need to borrow Lucille.”

  The sound of paper on his end of the line means I’ve got his attention and he decided to put whatever book he’s reading down for the moment. “Tonight?”

  “Yeah. I’m taking Trix out for dinner. It needs to be special. It needs to be epic, really. So, I need Lucille. Do you mind?” My dad has a tendency to refer to her as his baby, but I’m sincerely hoping tonight he’ll put those feelings aside for the ones he harbors for his biological, living and breathing, made of flesh and bones one. Me.

  “I don’t mind one bit. I’m just being nosey.” Another quiet laugh. “Anything else I can do to help make this night everything you’re hoping for?”

  “Now that you mention it...” With Pop’s help, I wouldn’t just have creativity and romance covered, I’d also have the added benefit of surprise.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Trix

  I’ve been standing in my closet for at least fifteen minutes trying to decide what to wear. How in the hell are you supposed to impress a guy who has seen you in every single thing you own? And not just now. But every single item of clothing you’ve had in your closet from the time you were six. It’s entirely possible I’m overthinking this. It’s more than possible. It’s highly likely.

  Giving into the fact that Penn is past the point of taking notice of me and I’m not exactly on a mission to catch his eye tonight despite what my date-mode brain is telling me, I strip the first dress within my reach from its hanger and slide it over my head. It’s a sweet white and red floral print slip dress, made a notch fancier than my norm by its tiered, ruffled skirt and strappy lace-up back. I could pull off a pair of heels with this number if I really wanted, but Penn has a tendency to make fun of the wobbly way I walk in them, so I’ll pass and go with a pair of tan bohemian style sandals covered in tiny little flowers.

  Even though it will likely drive me insane within a matter of minutes, I decide against putting my hair in its trusty braid and instead let it fry under the hair dryer for a few minutes before I run my fingers through it and call it good. It’s naturally wavy, so the less done to it, the better.

  A quick visit with my go-to make up duo, eyeliner and mascara, and all I have left to do is glide a little lip balm over my lips before I step out into the hall for Penn to see me, and in a perfect fantasy, find me out-of-this-world ravishing.

  Unfortunately, the hall is empty when I walk out from my bedroom. I try not to let this minor hurdle on the way to perfect fantasy stop me though, so I keep strolling along until I reach his door which is wide open as usual.

  He’s on the phone with someone when I walk in, but nearly drops it when he sees me, his chin dangling somewhere near his belly button. Operation perfect fantasy is a total success.

  “Good God, woman. Put on a hoodie or some mismatched socks this instant or there’s no way in hell we’re getting out of this house and going to dinner.”

  I laugh. Because he’s kidding. Sort of. Which is why I’m also blushing. A lot.

  “You’re acting like you’ve never seen me get dressed up.”

  He lifts the phone just within range of his mouth and says goodbye to whoever was on the other end of the line before he tosses it onto his bed and walks straight for me. His hands land on my hips, fingertips pressing into me. When he leans in toward me, my breath catches in my throat. For a second I think this will be it, the moment he finally devours my lips with his, but then he keeps moving until his mouth is flush against my cheek where it lands softly in a sweet kiss. Not at all like the one I was imagining, but surprisingly sensual and hot all the same.

  He lingers for longer than is conducive to my breathing pattern before he straightens out again, releasing me from his hold at the same time.

  “This is not me acting. All the other times you’ve crossed my path looking good enough to eat and I didn’t give any indication that I was starving for you, I was acting. This, this is me finally free to not act.”

  Between the constant blood rushing to my face and the repeated loss of oxygen, I think my system may collapse at any minute. I’m so weak in the knees, not wearing heels will have been for nothing because I’ll be walking wobbly no matter what. It’s time to put a stop to all this sexy mushiness right now.

  “You don’t have plans for dinner, do you?” I tip my head toward my shoulder and cock my brow skeptically.

  He stares back at me, looking perplexed. “I have plans for dinner.”

  “I don’t know. I’m starting to wonder if all this talk is intended to seduce me and distract me from the fact that you couldn’t figure out where to take me at such short notice.”

  “Well, seducing you is in the plans. After dinner.” He grins. “And it wasn’t as short notice as you might think.”

  Before I can answer or question his last comment, he takes my hand in his, interlocking our fingers, and leads me from the room.

  I’ve sat in Leila’s passenger seat more times than I can count. Even in spite of the years after the accident that I refused to ride in her. I never could understand why Penn kept this truck when every time I looked at it all I could think about was the night Bo insisted I go with Penn instead of him, which ultimately led to Bo dying. Alone.

  I run my hand over the spotless dash. I left muddy handprints all over it that night. And I was so wet and filthy, my entire body left a stain in the seat for the longest time. Until he cared enough to clean his truck again. Took a long time before Penn cared about doing anything again.

  “I always thought you would sell her after the accident.”

  He nods, putting his key in the ignition. “I know.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  He shrugs. “Why do you drive the Mustang?”

  I knew he would ask me that. I’ve asked myself. Compared the two. Analyzed our motivations. I understood mine. I didn’t get his. “It’s Bo, the car, it’s more him than any other possession he left behind.” But that’s not what makes it different. “And I wasn’t in it the night he died. I was in here.”

  Penn still hasn’t shifted out of park. “And every time you sit in this truck you remember the accident. And how you were here with me instead of there with Bo.”

  I nod. This is the last place I wanted tonight to go. Why did I even bring it up? I could punch myself in the face for this one.

  But Penn doesn’t seem bothered by this conversation. It’s almost as if he’s thought about it as much as I have. As if he’s been waiting for me to ask him.

  “I do the same thing, Trix. Every time I get into this truck, I think about that night. How you weren’t supposed to ride with me, but how Bo insisted. How that meant you were here with me...instead of there with Bo. And, then my heart swells with gratitude...because you’re here with me...instead of there with Bo.”

  I don’t notice I’m crying until he reaches over to wipe my cheek and I feel the dampness move between his thumb and my skin.

  “I’m sorry. I’m ruining everything.” I try to laugh through my tears at how ridiculous I’m being, but the emotions are coming at me now from every direction and I can’t swallow them all down as fast as I’d lik
e.

  “You’re not ruining anything.” He smiles. It’s a new kind of smile. A smile I don’t think he’s ever shared with me before. It’s sweet and sad and filled with something else. Something strong. Passionate. Something I’ve never seen in anyone’s eyes when they were staring back at me. “I should have told you sooner. I knew it bothered you, me keeping the truck. I should have told you why. I just didn’t know how to.”

  I finally grapple with my feelings enough to take several deep breaths. “I have a hunch we’ll be doing that a lot for a while. Sharing things we’ve been sitting on for years because we didn’t know what to do with any of it before now.”

  He smirks. “Oh yeah? What sort of stuff have you been holding back?”

  The heat rises to my face again, giving me away before I can even string together an answer.

  This time he laughs out loud. “My, my. Must be some kinky stuff to make you turn that particular shade of crimson. Well, I can’t wait for you to start sharing.”

  Then he reaches for the gear shift and moves it into reverse to pull out of our driveway and give me a momentary reprieve from the conversation and subsequent humiliation.

  Penn

  My eyes have darted over to where her hands are curled in her lap at least a dozen times. I should just reach over and claim one. It’s not like we’ve never held hands before. Shit, I was holding her hand all the way out to the car, what makes now so different? Other than I’m not leading her anywhere and I want to do it solely for the purpose of holding her hand in mine, palm to palm, connecting us even if it’s just in the smallest of ways.

  I’m at my third red light when I finally find my nerve. Her head turns toward me. I smile. And I go for it. And then it’s done. Our fingers interlock and Trix now has three hands in her lap while I’m still smiling like an idiot.

  Facing the road again, I will the light to turn green just so I can focus on driving and not the way it feels to have her eyes burning into me. Searching me. Studying me. Even if I was numb to the thrilling vulnerability that comes from being watched by Trix with her unwavering, unnerving gaze, I would still know she was doing it. It’s in her nature to observe. To see the details others miss. And not just because she gets some strange kick out of it, her skills of communication depend on it.

  The drive to the Marina doesn’t take long, and it’s even less time before Trix figures out where we’re headed. Her eyes light up when we take the turn that will take us out toward the water, but she doesn’t attempt to say anything. Just sits there, a knowing smile on her beautiful face, and I can hear her every thought in the silence between us.

  I used to hate silence. In my house silence represented a working father and a dying mother. For nearly two years she was bound to one bed or another, rarely strong enough to stay awake for long and definitely not up to making a ruckus of any kind. I was four when she first got sick. Four when I first heard the words, ‘We need to keep it down while your mother is resting.’

  Then she died and there was no reason to be quiet anymore. There also wasn’t any reason not to be.

  Silence. I hated it.

  Then, I met Bo. He was loud and the most alive of any person I’d ever met and all I wanted was to be around him. To be like him. Wasn’t long before he invited me into his world. And I was shocked to find...it was silent as well.

  Both of Bo’s parents worked full-time, leaving him and his sister in the care of a nanny named Kim, who also doubled as Trix’s speech therapist and tutor to make sure she could be fully involved in the hearing world at all times. I think it really devastated them - well, their egos - both being doctors and having a child with a condition they couldn’t ‘fix’. Regardless, the most used form of communication around the Daley household was ASL, and unless Trix was having a lesson with Kim, there wasn’t a word to be heard around that house.

  Silence wasn’t new to me. But life was. Even when it was completely quiet, it was never still. It never felt empty, or cold or lonely there. Naturally, it wasn’t long before I started learning to sign and in turn, being able to talk to Trix. Silence with Trix wasn’t silent anymore.

  My wandering thoughts stop when my truck does. I shift into park and turn off the engine. The sky outside is pitch black already, but that’s how I want it. As soon as we clear the Marina and get away from the lights, there will be stars shining down on us as far as the eye can see.

  “You ready?”

  She nods, excitement gleaming in her eyes.

  I get out of the truck and hurry over to her side, only she’s already climbing out without me. “What did I tell you about letting me do all the gentlemanly shit?!”

  She mouths an ‘oops’ and gets back inside, closing the door as soon as her legs are in.

  I bite back the intense desire to grin from ear to ear and go to open her door the way I had planned. And it’s not just chivalry I’m shooting for. Helping her out of the truck is a surefire way to land her hand back inside mine without all the mental back and forth I went through the last go around.

  As soon as we’re on the dock, I can see her. Lucille. The old man went all out for me. The old pontoon boat is decked out in twinkling Christmas lights from one end to the other. There’s a tug at my hand and the sound of a soft gasp to my right and I know Trix has seen it too.

  When we reach the boat, I step onboard first and then turn back to help her.

  “How did you do all this?” She’s still taking it all in. So am I. There’s a small table at the end, covered in a white linen table cloth, candles and completely set for two. Over on the bench, I already spotted two large brown paper bags which I’m assuming contain our dinner, along with a cooler which I’m hoping is filled with drinks.

  “Called Pop. Didn’t take much to recruit him.” I nudge her side. “You know the old man’s always had a soft spot for you. He’d trade me for you in a heartbeat, and he sure as hell isn’t missing out on a chance to land us both.”

  “Funny. I’d trade you for him, too.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  She lifts onto her tip toes and places a kiss along the side of my jaw, then another up higher on my cheek before she drops back down to look me square in the eyes. “Sure it is.”

  “Listen, normally I would be all too happy to explain to you why your sense of humor could use some improving, but tonight, I’m kinda busy already. So how about you go and have a seat while I get Lucille out into open water.” I move toward the edge to get at the ropes tethering the boat to the dock. It doesn’t take much to untie them. Pop made sure of that too.

  “Can’t I do anything to help?”

  I nod toward the back. “Yeah, get behind me where I can’t see you and stop distracting me. It’s hard enough trying to stay focused when all I can think about is kissing you before the night is over, then I look at you in that dress and my mouth starts to water just thinking about all the places it wants to go after it lands on your lips.”

  “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “Dirty Penn is hot. I’m starting to see why it works so well for you. I mean, from the outside looking in, it’s pretty damn obnoxious, but when you’re the target...holy crap. I’m kind of shocked I’m not naked already.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “Are you mocking me?”

  She takes a step toward me again, completely ignoring my instructions to get out of my sight. Then, I nearly choke on my own spit when I see her tongue slide over her bottom lip in the most enticing way possible, before she moves in, her mouth on the curve of my neck, trailing kisses down to my shoulder and over my collarbone while her hands simultaneously move down my chest, fingernails raking over my contracted stomach and resting right at the waistband of my pants, achingly close to the buckle of my belt.

  She lets go of me, a brazen look in her eyes like I’ve never seen there before.

  My fingers are numb from the blood pooling out of my body and down into my pants.

  “What was that for?”

 
She smirks, licking her lips once more in what I’m now convinced is her attempt to kill me.

  “Just thought you might like to know where my mouth is thinking about going after it lands on your lips.”

  Definitely not mocking me.

  She stares at me a second longer, satisfaction pouring out of her in the form of self-confidence Trix never shows but should have always had, then she turns on her heel and walks toward the back of the boat as per my initial request. Only now it doesn’t exactly matter anymore. My concentration is shot and it causes me to fumble several times before I finally get the boat going and out of the Marina.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Trix

  I love the way the warm summer air blows over my skin, rushing heat into me and taking it all at once, the way the sensation sends shivers through me. I’ve been out on Lucille a lot over the years, but never once at night. I’ve been missing out.

  We must be out in the middle of the lake by now because I can hardly see any of the lights from the shoreline anymore. Penn seems to agree and he brings the boat to a stop, letting us drift out here in the water. I’ve always enjoyed the slight swing of the waves under the boat, being rocked back and forth. It’s relaxing. Well, unless you’re trying to move around. Then it can get a bit precarious depending on the intensity of the swaying to and fro, but really, I’ve always thought it only adds to the fun.

  Not sure if I’m allowed to move again or not, I sit back and watch while Penn begins to serve dinner on the already set table. When he’s finished unwrapping the food and pouring the drinks, he lights the candles completing the already perfect picture.

  “And you thought I didn’t have real plans for dinner,” he chides.

  “I’ve thought a lot of things about you over the years, Penn. Many of which you’ve proved me wrong about in the last few days. I’m getting used to it.” I get to my feet and wobble my way over toward him. When a gush of water adds more motion than I’m ready for, he reaches out and catches me. Another thing I realize I’ve gotten used to. “You’re good at that.”