The List Series

by Rhonda James

  His skin, warm from a day in the Carolina sun, wore a faint sheen of perspiration, yet he didn’t reek of sweat. He leaned closer, bringing his lips to mine without touching, and the heat of his breath warmed my quivering lips, breaking down any resolve I’d been clinging to. There was no mistaking the scent of alcohol and weed that hung between us like a barrier, a barrier that threatened to collapse with even the tiniest of movements on either our parts. A hairsbreadth was all it would take. I was certain he could hear how fast my heart was beating, and it took everything I possessed not to press my hand over his heart just to see if I had the same effect on him.

  What’s happening to me? Is this reaction because I miss Michael and his brother is the next best thing? Or could it be…? Oh, hell no! Definitely not!

  I wedged my hands between us, separating our bodies. “What are you doing? You better not try to kiss me, because I’ll tell Michael.” I tried putting on a brave front, but the quiver in my voice gave me away.

  “I’ll tell Michael,” he mimicked, rearing back his head as a drunken laugh poured from his lips, lips I had a sudden urge to get drunk on. “Kiss you? Only in your dreams, V.” He drawled out his nickname for me like a dirty word.

  We’d been so caught up in what was happening neither of us heard someone entering the house. “Quit dicking around, Sin, and let’s get the fuck outta here. This party blows.”

  Sin? What kind of strange nickname is that?

  Ignoring his friend, Dylan bit down on his bottom lip and allowed his intoxicated gaze to sweep over me once more before releasing his grip on my hair. “Such a pity,” he said as he swept the pad of his thumb over my mouth. Little glimmers of light sparkled off the silver that lined three of the fingers on his left hand. “Lips this beautiful would look spectacular sliding down my cock.” Then, without warning, he dipped his head as if he were about to kiss me, so naturally, I closed my eyes and pressed my lips out to meet his. A wicked chuckle prompted my eyes to open, and when they connected with his, an immediate sense of disappointment set in because I knew no kiss would be coming; instead, he bared his teeth and nipped harshly at my bottom lip before shoving away from the wall and disappearing into the shadows.

  My fingers went to my mouth and came back tinged with blood that I swept away with my tongue as I worked to catch my breath. Even though he was gone, I still felt him. Felt the weight of his body crushing mine. I wore his heat like my favorite sweater, the scent of him still lingering in the air. I wanted to run. Away from the guesthouse. Away from the truth of what had just happened, but my legs wouldn’t cooperate, so I remained against the wall, breathing him in.

  What the hell was he thinking? Fuck that. What was I thinking?

  Later that evening, after the crowd thinned and only a handful of friends remained, I made my way across the grass and joined Michael by the bonfire. It was the first time we’d been alone in three days, and my little encounter in the guesthouse had shaken me more than I cared to admit. The sun had already set on the early June evening and the temperature had lowered enough to cast a chill over the air. Seeking warmth, I crossed my arms over my chest and moved closer to the fire.

  “Cold?” He ran his hands up and down my arms to warm me, and I found myself sighing at the familiar feel of his touch. “Where have you been, Tor? I couldn’t find you earlier.”

  Regardless of his previous interaction with Caroline, Michael wasn’t always the asshole that Sophie had painted him to be. In fact, most of the time he was a perfect gentleman who always looked out for me and made sure I was okay. He was a good friend. It wasn’t his fault he had needs, needs I had yet to fully meet, and that had been a topic of many arguments over the past year. I looked up to meet his gaze and realized I was tired of fighting. Tired of being afraid. Tired of waiting. At some point, I’d allowed myself to fall in love with him, and in that moment, I knew tonight I was going to show him with actions instead of words.

  Although Michael and I had never dated exclusively, we’d spent a great deal of time together. I often found myself wondering if he thought of me more as a friend with potential benefits rather than someone he could spend the rest of his life with, but whenever I looked at Michael, I saw the whole shebang.

  Dating. Falling in love. Marriage. Kids.

  Happily ever after.

  Given our rocky history, I’m not sure when the delusion began to take root, but it had, and I nurtured that delusion like the hopeful teenager I was. Rather than get discouraged by our on-again-off-again relationship, I woke each day with the hope that today would be ‘the day’ it finally happened. ‘It’ being that he finally asked me to be his one and only.

  I linked our fingers together and angled my head toward the main house. “Come on,” I invited in my sexiest voice. His eyes met mine, and he knew what I was implying. No words were spoken during the time it took getting to his room, but none were needed. When he laid me back against the bed and claimed me, it was unlike anything I’d been expecting. It wasn’t bad and it wasn’t good.

  It just was… And then it was over.

  Maybe I was crazy for giving in and not believing I deserved more. For dying to myself in hopes of achieving the dream I’d been chasing, but wasn’t that often the case? Weren’t many of us guilty of seeking out what we believed to be good while shunning that which we perceived to be bad?

  I knew that’s exactly what I’d done, but it would take four more years for me to finally realize what I thought was bad had actually been the very thing I needed to bring me back to life.

  CHAPTER 1

  V

  Four Years Later

  “Son of a bitch!” I slammed my palm against the steering wheel and cranked up the volume, testing the limits of the factory-installed speakers on the luxury SUV my parents had given me as a graduation present.

  It was pushing midnight, and I should have been on campus celebrating with my fellow graduates, toasting our future endeavors. Instead, I was doing eighty down a lonely stretch of highway on my way back to Mount Pleasant. Everything I could physically carry from my apartment had been thrown in the back of the Navigator before I climbed behind the wheel and hauled ass out of Tallahassee. Away from so-called friends and everything that had led me to FSU in the first place.

  Everything changed after the night I’d lost my virginity. Michael acted differently, always calling and inviting me to come over. He’d said he wanted us to make the most of our time together. So, we spent that summer lazing by the pool, making love in the evenings. Then one night, as he held me in his arms, he said he thought he might be in love with me. I’d waited years to hear those words—they weren’t the exact words I’d been waiting to hear, but I clung to them.

  In the fall, he left to attend Florida State, while I went off to study at Ole’ Miss. We’d talk on the phone most every night, and I’d even gone to visit him a few times, but it wasn’t enough. After two years, I called Daddy and told him I needed a change of scenery. He’d been aware of how much I missed Michael, but he never asked if that was my reason for leaving. Less than a week later, I found myself in the admissions office at FSU, happy about the prospect of being reunited with Michael. I hadn’t told him I was transferring. It was supposed to be a surprise. I’d been clueless to how he truly felt about me. About us. Without telling him, I moved into the apartment building down the street from his and began repeating the same foolish mistakes I’d made in high school. It was as if he consumed me, and when he wasn’t near, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. While Michael played football and pursued his degree, I put everything aside and pursued him, never once considering that in doing so I’d found him but managed to lose myself along the way.

  Looking back, the warning signs had been glaringly present, only my eyes hadn’t been opened until tonight when I walked into his apartment and found him in bed with one of my ‘so-called’ best friends. I screamed and cried and begged to know how he could do that to me, after everything I’d given up for him. For us. His answer s
till echoed in my ears.

  “What do you want me to say, Tori? I never asked you to move here. I never asked you to give everything up for me.”

  “I know that, Michael, but I did it for us because I love you.”

  “Stop saying that. You don’t love me. How can you be in love with me when I treat you the way I do?”

  “W-what do you mean? You’ve always been good to me,” I stammered between sobs.

  “No, I’m not,” he shook his head on a sigh. “I ignore your calls. I’ve blown off how many dates?” He turned to the closed bedroom door before looking back at me. “I’ve fucked countless women since I’ve been here. You want me to tell you I’m in love with you, but I can’t do that, Tori. I can’t and I won’t.” He reached for my hand and held it in his. “I’ll always love you, but I can’t love you the way you need me to. I’m not what you need, baby. And you’re not what I need either. I want to be with someone who inspires me. I’m sorry, but that someone just isn’t you.”

  His words left me speechless, but they’d been the slap in the face I’d needed to finally wake up and accept that the fairy tale dream I had for us hadn’t been his dream at all. I’d turned on my heel and stormed out, but he never bothered chasing after me.

  Four hours later, I was still pissed, but more so at myself, so I called the one friend I could always count on. The one who never minced words or sugarcoated anything. It rang five times and I nearly broke down when she finally answered. Sophie knew immediately who’d been responsible for my tears.

  “Oh, honey,” she winced. “What’d the asshole do this time?”

  I released a groan and gave her all the humiliating details, ending with my current whereabouts.

  “So, you’re going back home, huh? I hate to be the one to say it, because I know it hurts like a mother, but I believe this will turn out to be a good thing. It’s time you stopped living for Michael and start living for yourself.”

  If anyone knew about putting herself first, it would be Sophie. She’d always been great at that. It wasn’t like she was a selfish bitch; she just saw what she wanted and never allowed anything or anyone to distract her from acquiring it. Sophie had always been the girl who dated guys but never got too attached. She’d known at a young age where she was going and what she was willing to sacrifice in order to get there. After high school, she left for New York to study acting. These days, she spent her time going to casting calls and practicing her lines. She was living her dream and was happy, and I couldn’t be prouder of her.

  “I’m not sure I know how to do that,” I begrudgingly admitted. “I’ve wasted a lot of years chasing something that was never meant to be. How could I have been so blind?” I slammed my fist against the center console, making the change in the cup holder bounce out onto the floor.

  “Honestly? I think because in your eyes Michael was always the ‘safe’ option. I mean, it was always work with him, but it was familiar work. You and I both know you’ve spent your entire life doing what your parents wanted. You’ve never given yourself a chance to see what else is out there. You know, this isn’t entirely your fault. Michael wasn’t exactly innocent in this; he never once discouraged you in your pursuit of him. My guess is he liked the idea of knowing you’d always be there to fall back on. Maybe you were ‘safe’ for him, too.”

  I leaned against the headrest and sighed, knowing she spoke the truth. “You’re right about everything. You always have been. Four years ago, you warned me, but I wouldn’t listen. I’ve never listened to anything negative where Michael was concerned. My mother always told me what a great catch he was, and I believed her. I created this picture in my head of what my ideal future would be, and it always consisted of Michael. You know something? Reality sucks major ass,” I groaned in frustration.

  “What have I been saying all these years? You need to toughen up. Take this time and figure out what you want. You’ve been given an amazing gift, the gift of freedom. Do yourself a favor and go out and discover who Victoria Prescott really is,” she encouraged.

  “I don’t know, Soph. Where would I even begin?”

  “Well, for starters, maybe try doing something you’ve never done. Push the envelope for a change. Sit down and make a list of things you’ve always wanted to try but never considered before today.”

  “Like what kind of things? Sexual things?” I squeaked. It wasn’t that I was a prude or anything, but I also hadn’t been what Sophie, or anyone else for that matter, would classify as wild and adventurous. Though I admit I’d always wished I could be.

  She laughed heartily, and the sound warmed my damaged heart. “Sure, if that’s what you want, but it doesn’t have to be just that. It can be anything. For once, give yourself the freedom to choose. You never know. You may surprise yourself.”

  “What if I do all of that only to discover I don’t like who I am on my own?”

  “Mamaw Banks used to have a saying. She’d say ‘Sophie, no matter what happens in life, love yourself. It doesn’t matter what other people think of you. Or what they say. Always be true to you. Love you. Because if you don’t love yourself then how can you expect others to do the same?’”

  I smiled, remembering all the times we’d spent playing in Mamaw Banks’ backyard when we were younger. “Mamaw wasn’t one to mince words, was she? I always loved that about her.”

  Sophie chuckled heartily before her voice turned soft. “She loved you, too. You know, if she were alive, she’d take a switch to your ass for being so foolish over this boy. So, in honor of Mamaw Banks, consider this my metaphorical switch. I want you to go out there and say ‘Fuck the rules’ for a change. Fuck the rules and, while you’re at it, say ‘Fuck you, Michael Cross!’”

  I laughed but didn’t say anything, which only made her push harder. “Say it, V. For once in your life, take control.”

  Knowing she wasn’t about to let me off the hook, I took a deep breath and mumbled them. “Fuck the rules and fuck you, Michael Cross.”

  “Okay. That was good, but I want you to try again, and this time say it like you mean it.”

  I laughed at her insistence but rolled down the window and leaned my head out. “Fuck the rules! Fuck you, Michael Cross!” I screamed the words at the top of my lungs, then repeated them three more times, noting how much louder my voice became with each proclamation. Oddly enough, the words were simple, yet they gave me a sense of freedom I never knew I’d been seeking.

  “Now, that’s what I’m talking about! Felt good, right?”

  “Yeah.” I pressed a finger to my smiling lips. “A little bit.”

  We talked for the remainder of the drive, and it was two in the morning before I finally pulled up to my childhood home. I already knew my parents weren’t home; they’d left yesterday for a month-long African safari with Michael’s parents. My older brother, Dan, had moved out three years ago, so that meant I would have the whole house to myself. The thought of spending time on my own sounded exciting, until thirty minutes later when I caught myself staring at the bedroom wall, questioning every decision I’d made over the last four years.

  All those years… All that wasted time. What had I been thinking? Maybe Sophie was right. Maybe Michael had been my ‘safe’ choice. It was true; I’d had a privileged upbringing, but so had he. I’d grown up in a big house, in an upscale neighborhood. Outside of my longing for Michael, I’d never wanted for anything my entire life. For years, Mom and Dad had drilled into my head the importance of finding a suitable man, one with wealthy parents, the same highbrow upbringing, and a bright future ahead of him. Michael ticked every box on their precious list, and in their eyes, he had always been the perfect choice.

  I swayed on my feet as my head spun with all the stupid shit I’d done to try and capture Michael’s attention, including the night I’d given him my virginity. Most girls know the first time with a guy will be awkward, but we’re also hopeful the next time will be better, especially if it’s with the same guy. But the time after that sho
uld be even better, right? Now that my eyes had been opened, I could admit Michael wasn’t all that great in bed. Then again, Chelsea seemed pretty satisfied while he’d been thrusting into her.

  God, what if the issue hadn’t been Michael all along? What if I had been the problem?

  Once I’d had enough self-reflection, I decided some fresh air might clear my head, but two laps around the backyard in the Carolina heat, and I was a sticky, sweaty mess. The moonlight reflecting off the Cross’ pool seemed to beckon me over. I knew they weren’t home, and seeing as how they were our closest neighbors, I gave no thought to stripping down to my bra and panties and diving beneath the refreshing water. Swimming the entire length of the pool, I broke the water’s surface and cast a glance over at the guesthouse and remembered what had happened the last time I’d been inside. Eyes as blue as a clear night sky flashed through my mind, and despite the Carolina heat wave, a shiver coursed through my body.

  Damn you, Dylan Cross. What stopped you from kissing me that night?

  You, my subconscious reminded me.

  It was probably for the best. Getting mixed up with someone the likes of Dylan Cross would have amounted to nothing but trouble. That’s exactly what Dylan represented. T-R-O-U-B-L-E. I smiled, wondering if he’d ever given me another thought, then realized it really didn’t matter. Starting tonight, all that was behind me. Time to move forward and stop clinging to mistakes of the past. Feeling empowered, I lay my head back against the tiles and shouted at the top of my lungs.

  “Fuck you, Michael Cross! Fuck you once and for all!”

  CHAPTER 2

  SIN

  I toed the pedal on my bike, shifting gears as I pulled back on the throttle, reveling in the sound of the engine and the thrill of the vibration between my legs. The bike moved on autopilot, turning onto Carrington Circle like it was a regular occurrence, but in reality, it had been more than two years. The street was empty, and it had been too damn long since I’d gone for a ride. It felt good. Free.