Keep Her

by Faith Andrews

  When I reached over to the end table and saw it was from Beck, a huge smile grew on my face. I couldn’t help but bounce up and down on the cushions. Pausing an episode of The Voice, I blew a kiss to Adam Levine and told him I had another man to deal with. Yes, I was obsessed with far too many male musicians to count, but there was no harm in my outlandish obsessions over the unattainable. It was the one I had with my brother’s best friend that I had to worry about.

  Beck: Whatcha doing?

  Me: Drooling over Adam Levine.

  Beck: God, my competition is fierce. First JT and now Adam?

  Me: They’ve got nothing on the Beckster.

  Beck: rolling my eyes

  Me: I love getting under your skin.

  Beck: I love getting over your skin—with my tongue.

  I loved our schmexy texts, as Fallon had put it, but I was seriously bone tired and couldn’t see myself being that creative tonight.

  Me: Oh, B. Don’t get me riled up. I’m exhausted and I have to be on the road early tomorrow to help Marcus set up.

  Beck: Well, that’s actually why I’m texting you.

  Me: To rile me up? ;)

  Beck: That and… I wanted to see if you needed a ride. We can go together.

  Together? Was he kidding? My fingers typed “yes” then erased the letters, then typed “no” and erased those too. I was stuck with no way to answer this reasonably. Finally, I decided on what was best.

  Me: Probably not a good idea. We don’t want to give anyone anything to talk about.

  Beck: Ah, fuck ‘em. Let’s let ‘em talk!

  Me: Yeah? You’re ready to deal with Marcus and tell him you’re banging his sister?

  Beck: Correction: BANGED his sister. You’ve been holding out on me all week.

  Me: Me? You had work!

  Beck: And now you’re tired. I could’ve come over tonight and really wore you out.

  Me: LOL. As appealing as that sounds, I still have to pack, tie up some loose ends, and do all those fun things us women have to do in order to look decent in a bathing suit.

  Beck: All you have to do is put one on and you’ll look drop dead gorgeous.

  Me: Aw, thanks

  Beck: Now, seriously. Want to drive up together?

  I wanted to say yes so badly, but it was a bad idea for so many different reasons. The biggest one being that if anything went wrong over the next few days I’d have to figure out another way to get home.

  Me: B, thanks for the offer, but I still think it’s a bad idea.

  Beck: Can I ask you something?

  Me: Sure.

  Beck: Are you afraid this whole thing is a bad idea?

  Was this his way of letting me off easy because he thought exactly that? Or did he genuinely want to know what I thought?

  Me: You first.

  Beck: You’re a PITA, but fine my answer is… no. I don’t think this is a bad idea.

  Why did that make me so damn happy?

  Me: I don’t think so either, and I’m glad we got this out in the open, even if it IS over text, but I still think we need to lay low. Don’t you?

  Beck: Yes, oh wise one. As much as I’d love to shock the shit out of a few people with our unexpected canoodling, I think you’re right. No need to rock the boat just yet.

  Me: B?

  Beck: Hmm?

  Me: I really like canoodling and rocking the boat with you. And I don’t know where this is going or IF it’s going anywhere but can you promise me one thing?

  Beck: I’ll try.

  Me: Please don’t hurt me.

  It was a tall order to ask of someone, but I already sensed that my heart was a part of this complicated equation. I’d had it painfully bruised in the past; I needed all the assurance I could get.

  Beck: Sweet thing, I wouldn’t dream of it.

  Once we’d finished our conversation and texted each other goodnight, I felt a huge wave of relief wash over me. Not because I had the answers to all my questions. Not because I was sure this was going to work out between us. But because as uncharacteristically vulnerable as I felt, I also believed I was safe in Beck’s presence. Beck was a good man—a decent man who seemed to have my best interests at heart. I could trust him. The problem was I couldn’t trust myself not to get in over my head.

  Marcus had me under lock and key, playing idiotic games like flip-cup and quarters as if that shit still entertained me. When I walked in without Marissa, he started with the questions. I finally told him, without mentioning my involvement with Riley of course, that we were on a break. He decided that meant I needed babysitting. I didn’t feel the need to give him all the details or a reason to hook me up with one of his random single guests. I had no intention of doing something like that with Riley around, anyway. Hooking up with anyone besides her wasn’t even a thought in my mind, but there was no way to get that through Marcus’s head now that he knew my status with Marissa. So I downplayed the break so he wouldn’t think I was fair game.

  I’d only gotten a quick chance to say hi to Riley since arriving at the lake house two hours ago, and it wasn’t the kind of welcome I wanted to give her. Not that I’d be able to give her that proper welcome with the hawk on my tail. I couldn’t help noticing her watching me out of the corner of her eye while she sat and talked with Tessa and some of her other friends, all the while fussing over Tessa’s son, Luca. Every time I caught her looking in my direction I’d wink or smile, but the last few times she seemed to glance away, rolling her eyes. I had to get over there and find out what was bothering her. We left off fine—actually more than fine—last night; I couldn’t imagine what I did to piss her off.

  Marcus was mumbling something about me wallowing in my pity as he downed a water bottle to try and dilute all the alcohol he’d already consumed. I shooed him away, still focusing on Riley. “Oh fuck off. I just want to talk to Riley about something.”

  He narrowed his eyes, but before I gave him reason to think about why I needed to talk to his sister all of a sudden, I blurted out, “She… uh… she dropped her lipstick in the cab last week, so I brought it to give to her.”

  He clapped his hand on my shoulder, smiling. “Oh, how sweet of you.” Sarcastic bastard.

  I rolled my eyes and elbowed him in the gut as we made our way to the girls. As soon as Tessa and Marcus were within three feet of each other, they started eye-fucking each other. Marcus made a crude comment about Tessa in her bathing suit, and she quickly scolded him, clearly embarrassed in front of Riley’s friends. When they were gone, the rest of the crowd kind of broke apart and I took the opportunity to single Riley out.

  “Hey, sweet thing,” I whispered to her.

  “Oh, don’t you sweet thing me. You liar.” She turned to walk in the direction of her friends, but I tugged at her elbow and spun her around.

  “Hey, what’s this all about? I knew you looked pissed for some reason, but why am I a liar?” I seriously had no fucking clue what she was talking about.

  She said one word, “Marissa.” And instead of it clearing things up it just made me all the more confused.

  “What about her? You see she’s not here, right?”

  “When exactly were you going to tell me you’re making your relationship even more permanent while texting me all kinds of crazy things? Tessa told me you’re asking her to move in with you.”

  Whoa! She clearly had her timing mixed up. “Riles, I think you have the story all wrong. Come on,” I motioned toward the empty dock. We could sit and talk, far enough away from Marcus, without him thinking it was anything but two friends chatting. “I can explain, if you’ll let me.”

  Her expression looked doubtful, but once she let me tell her everything, she’d understand. “Fine,” she huffed, walking in front of me. She was wearing a turquoise blue string bikini that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her bronzed skin glistened in the scorching afternoon sun from the lotion I’d seen her apply earlier on. I couldn’t stop staring at her ass as it swayed perfectly, fina
lly stopping at the end of the dock and taking a seat. She dangled her legs over the planks and dipped her feet in the cool water.

  “Sit. Explain. I feel like an idiot,” she admitted. Even angry, this girl made me want to smile.

  I kicked off my Converse, took a seat next to her, and dunked my own feet in the refreshing lake. “This is nice.” I hummed, discreetly tracing a finger along her thigh.

  “No touching. Just talking.”

  “How about talking and touching?” I pressed my luck.

  “Come on, B. What’s going on? Are you and Marissa back together? Are you really asking her to move in with you?” Her features softened from angry to upset. I had to clear this up so she could go back to smiling and laughing, the way I liked her best. Oh, and so I could touch her again too.

  “To answer your questions respectively, no and yes.”

  “Wait, what? She’s moving in with you?”

  “No,” I laughed. “I’m sorry. Let me clarify. No, we are not back together, but yes I did ask her to move in with me.” I might be busting her balls, but I wasn’t lying to her.

  “Are you serious?” she whisper-screamed. “Why in the hell would you ask your ex-girlfriend to move in with you? Beck, this means we can’t—”

  “Calm down,” I inched closer, placing a hand on her beautifully bare shoulder. Her skin was warm from the sun and as soft as I remembered.

  She shrugged me off, picking her ass off the wood and scooting further away from me.

  I lifted myself up and scooted closer in her direction. “She’s not moving in with me and I asked her before we broke up, Riles. It’s actually one of the reasons we’re on this break in the first place. I don’t think she wants all the things I want—at least not yet.” I didn’t want to talk about all this stuff with her, unless she wanted to hear it. I told her I wouldn’t hurt her, and knowing the way a girl’s mind worked, hearing about an ex was something that caused unnecessary pain.

  “Then why would Tessa make it like I should tread lightly with you? Someone’s not telling the truth here.” She wasn’t as pissed as she was before, but I could tell she was still confused.

  “Marcus and Tessa are in their own little world, Riles. He didn’t know Marissa and I were on a break until I told him today. Besides, you have some explaining to do yourself.” I arched an eyebrow, placing my hand on my hip like a girl. When she remained silent, I figured she wasn’t picking up on my question. “You told Tessa about us? First your other girlfriend, Fallon, gives me the third degree about our texts and then this? I thought we were keeping this on the DL.” I wasn’t actually annoyed. In fact, I was happy she cared enough about our situation to tell her friends about me. It meant a whole shit load of things—good things. But if she had questions, so did I.

  “Okay, you got me there. But you can’t expect me to keep completely quiet about all this, B.” She hid her eyes with her hands, finally admitting, “I might’ve spontaneously combusted if I didn’t tell someone.”

  I laughed at how adorable she was, but then grew serious. “You don’t think she’ll tell Marcus, do you?” It was my only concern. Not that I was afraid to tell him—I would, when the time was right—but things were so new and unclear between us. I didn’t want to rush into telling him when it might only cause awkwardness and hard feelings—for everyone. Besides, it was none of his business right now. We were adults. We could do whatever we wanted with each other, for each other, to each other.

  Staring out at the lake where a group of teenagers tubed recklessly off the back of their boat, she seemed to ponder her answer. “No, we can trust her. And considering she still thought you were with Marissa until just a few hours ago… she won’t let Marcus think you’re cheating on your girlfriend with me. As much as he didn’t exactly love Marissa, he does love me and being some guy’s mistress is not exactly something he’d take lightly.”

  “Is she against us being together? Not that she should really have a say, considering she snuck around with Marcus for God knows how long, but I’m curious about her take on this.” I’d like to know that at least one person was rooting for us on some level.

  “Like any friend, she’s skeptical because of the whole ‘break’ thing and she doesn’t want to see me get hurt, but—” She brought her attention back to me, staring at my lips and biting her own nervously. I could tell she was holding back. I didn’t want her to.

  “Just say it. But what?”

  “Beck, I know we’re nothing and I’m not asking for any kind of commitment, but I don’t make a habit of sleeping with more than one guy at a time. I don’t expect you to—” I lifted a finger to her lips, shushing her.

  “Would you please stop saying we’re nothing. I know it’s been like three minutes and things are not—I don’t know, ‘the norm’—but we’re definitely something and I want to give us a shot. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, Riles.”

  Her eyes lit up at my admission. Hell, my stomach dropped and I felt my heart rate pick up when I said it. This was all so fucking crazy and fast. I never expected to feel something for another girl two seconds after breaking up with another. Shit, I never expected another girl to be Riley Grayson. But what came as the biggest surprise was that I wasn’t upset any longer about not being with Marissa. Not because Riley was a replacement, but because Riley was an incredible person. I was getting to know her on a whole different level, and the more time I spent with her, the more I liked her. And the more I liked her, the more I realized I wanted to see where this would go.

  Looking past me toward the house to make sure no one was watching, she inched closer to me and gave me a soft peck on the cheek.

  “What was that for?” I asked, loving the feel of her lips on me again.

  “For being you. For making me feel like I’m not insane for feeling all these things about you too. I’m sorry; I jumped to conclusions and got all jealous for no reason.”

  Tapping her on the nose, I said, “I like jealous Riley.”

  “Oh, do you?” She smirked.

  “So far there’s not one side of you I don’t like, Riles. What are we going to do about that?” This was going far beyond flirtatious fun and I really didn’t care.

  “God,” she moaned, letting her head fall back. “Why do we have to be here right now? Can’t all these people disappear?”

  I felt her frustration. I wanted nothing more than to pull her into the lake with me and swim off to have my way with her. But we were surrounded by people who wouldn’t understand the situation. If we gave in to what we wanted to do to each other right now, it would only come off as a random hookup. I didn’t want people judging either of us without knowing the truth.

  “I’ll tell ya what.” I had a plan.

  “Go ahead,” she smiled, swirling her feet in the lake and making ripples spread across the smooth water.

  “Marcus is already pretty intoxicated. If he keeps up this pace, he’ll be passed out and comatose before the fireworks even go off.”

  “Continue,” she said, her grin growing wider.

  “Once he’s asleep for the night and all the rest of the guests are gone, I’ll sneak into your room and we can have some fun of our own. Sound like a plan?”

  Biting her lip and clapping her hands, she butt-danced. “The perfect plan. So perfect I want to break out in song. Caberet ohhhh…even though Marcus has no clue, we’re still getting our groove on!”

  Putting my arm around her shoulders and bringing her close, I kissed her on the top of her head and laughed. “That fucking song. I have to admit it’s growing on me.”

  “Good, because I’m just getting started. Caba—”

  “Don’t make me shut you up with a big wet kiss. If people haven’t noticed the touchy feely-ness, they’ll be sure to notice my tongue down your throat.”

  “Oh, Marcus!!” she called out, standing up. “Let’s go do some shots.” Looking down at me, she extended her hand to help me up. “Come on, let’s get him good and zonked. I wa
nt your tongue down my throat.”

  When Marcus had the brainchild to fix up the lake house and then throw the party of the century, I doubted him and his ambitious attitude. My little brother didn’t always follow things through. But his efforts to execute the ultimate remodel—together, as a team—brought on an onslaught of other emotions besides anticipation. As excited as I was that Marcus wanted my help and that I’d get some well-needed quality time with Marcus, the thought of erasing my mom, and happy childhood memories, was a bitter pill to swallow.

  “Fuck a duck!” Marcus shouted over the stereo that boomed with Mom’s old albums.

  “What now?” I looked over to where he stood on the stepstool, trying to suck away the pain from his thumb.