Bad Girlfriend

by Kirsten DeMuzio

  Brooke wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her body close to mine. I looked back to the party and was glad to see we were partially obscured by the large willow tree that sat on the property line between Grady and Lindsay’s yard and the neighbor’s.

  “Hi,” she said, smiling up at me.

  “Hi,” I said, smiling back.

  Brooke licked her lips, making me groan. Her smile grew, and I had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly what she was doing to me. Her fingers laced together behind my neck, and she pulled me down to her. Her lips were soft and damp from where her tongue had just traced over them. She tasted like a mix of beer and mint. A strange combination, but I swear I had never tasted anything better.

  My arms wound around her lower back and held her so close there wasn’t even a whisper of air between us. The breathy moans and sighs escaping her mouth flowed right into mine and made me real hard, real quick. I could feel Brooke smile against my mouth when she felt how much I wanted her.

  “What’s so funny?” I whispered when I broke away to kiss along her jaw and below her ear. She shivered in my arms, and I was guessing it wasn’t from the cold water.

  “Nothing’s funny,” she said on an exhale. “It’s nice to know you’re as…affected…as I am.”

  I chuckled and moved my hands down to cup her very fine, barely covered ass. Pulling her against the evidence of my “affection”, I said, “Trust me, Brooke. No one has ever affected me as much as you do just by breathing.”

  When she pulled back slightly to look at me, there was a mischievous smirk on her face. I got a clue as to what she was thinking when her hands fell from around my neck and she hooked her fingers in the waistband of my swim trunks.

  “Brooke,” I said, trying to muster the inner strength to stop her. When one of her delicate hands moved to the front of my trunks to cup me in her palm, all rational thoughts flew out of my head. Every single nerve ending in my body seemed to be centered where her hand was slowly caressing. Jesus Christ. I tried to watch my language most of the time so swearing didn’t become a habit and slip out around the students. But…holy fuck…this girl knew what she was doing.

  “Brooke,” I mumbled again, somehow finding enough sense to wrap my fingers around her wrists. “Stop.”

  Her hand stilled on me and I was able to pull her hands off my body. My dick was screaming at me to let her go back to what she was doing.

  She wasn’t smiling anymore, and there was a trace of hurt in her hazy green eyes. I was sure no guy had ever stopped her before, and I needed to make sure she understood why I was doing something so insane.

  “Don’t forget the rules,” I said with a smile. “Especially the last one.”

  She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then her cheeks turned the palest shade of pink. She knew what I was referring to.

  I set my hands on her waist and pulled her back against me, though the contact had my body screaming for more. “Unless you’re prepared for everyone at this party to watch you come, I think we should slow it down.”

  Her eyes widened at my blunt words, and then, finally, she smiled back at me. “I guess it might be kind of obvious what we’re doing out here.”

  I leaned down so my mouth was against her ear. “Mmmm hmmm. Especially because I plan on making you come with my mouth, and I don’t think I can hold my breath underwater for that long.”

  Brooke’s small gasp tickled across my cheek. Her eyes were cloudy with desire when I turned her toward the shore and slapped her butt under the water.

  “Let’s go join the party before I decide to find out just how long I can hold my breath.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Brooke

  I was still floating on cloud nine from my date with Adam on Labor Day. Even helping Gram pack up the house for her move to Florida couldn’t dampen my spirits. It turned out there was only one thing that could do that.

  “Brooke?” Gram’s voice echoed up the stairs to where I sat in the dusty attic carefully wrapping china tea cups in tissue paper.

  “Yeah?”

  “Your mother’s on the phone. She would like to talk to you.”

  And there it was. The one thing that could spoil my good mood.

  As always, her timing was impeccable. I should have known it was coming since it had been almost six months since we had last heard from her. She tended to call when she was in between jobs or boyfriends or just out of her latest stint at rehab. Gram had stopped sending her money over ten years ago, but it didn’t stop her from trying. Repeatedly.

  “Okay. I’ll be right there,” I called down the stairs. I finished wrapping the cup in my hand and set it carefully in the box with all the others.

  It felt like I was walking to the electric chair when I walked down the steep stairs from the attic. Gram held the phone out to me with a sympathetic smile. As much as I wished my mother would disappear, I know Gram wished just as strongly that she could get back the daughter she lost.

  “Hello?” I said without emotion into the cordless phone that Gram handed to me.

  “Brooke! It’s so good to hear your voice,” my mother exclaimed cheerfully. It was the voice she used when she was fresh out of rehab and determined to set her life on the right path, which happened at least once every three years.

  “Hi, Naomi.” I refused to call her Mom. She had never done a thing to earn that title.

  “How are you? How is your job going? How are things with that handsome young man you were dating?”

  Only Naomi would describe Chet as a handsome young man.

  “I’m fine. My job is good. I’m not seeing Chet anymore.” I answered her questions as simply as possible and refused to volunteer anything else.

  She continued on as if she couldn’t detect the disinterest in my voice. “I have good news!” She paused, probably to allow me to excitedly ask what her good news was. When I remained silent, she said, “I’m coming for a visit. Next week! Mom told me about her plans to move to Florida, and I thought I might move back for a while. We could be roommates,” she squealed like she was ten years old.

  I could feel my cheeks heating with anger. Before I said something that I definitely wouldn’t regret but would probably upset Gram, I handed the phone back to her.

  “Oh, hell no,” I said to Gram.

  She furrowed her eyebrows at me and brought the phone up to her ear. “Naomi, dear. What’s going on? What did you say to Brooke?”

  I stomped back up the stairs to the attic and resumed my task of wrapping tea cups. After a few minutes Gram slowly climbed the stairs and sat down on an old box next to me. She patted my knee.

  “Don’t worry, Brooke, honey. I told her she is welcome to visit next week, but that if she chooses to move back to Penn Yan, she will have to find a place of her own. This house is yours and yours alone to do with as you please.”

  I snorted in disgust. “I’m sure moving back doesn’t seem so appealing when she doesn’t have anyone to freeload off of.”

  Gram sighed but didn’t contradict me. We wrapped the rest of the teacups in companionable silence, and then she went to get ready for bed.

  Naomi’s call had left me restless despite the late hour. I wished there were more teacups to wrap, but there weren’t. And we were out of tissue paper anyway, so I couldn’t start on the saucers. My bedroom seemed lonely when I went in, so I went right back out. I busied myself with unloading the dishwasher and wiping down the kitchen counters until there wasn’t a single crumb or bit of dust left.

  Still not tired.

  So I went to the one place that always seemed to comfort me - my swing. It was late, almost eleven o’clock. The night was hot, and the air was heavy. Judging from the heavy clouds blocking the moon and stars, we would probably have a storm before the night was over.

  Sitting on the swing, I kicked off my flip flops and pumped my legs until I was soaring through the air. I didn’t know why interacting with my mother upset me so much. Yes, she had abandoned me, but tha
t had happened right after I was born. I had never known life any other way. Maybe it was because I knew she was my mother and felt like I was supposed to have some kind of bond with her. But I didn’t, and her constant reappearance and disappearance in my life over the years had only served to make me resent her more. If she stayed away, I could remain indifferent toward her.

  When the first rumbles of thunder rolled through the night, I slowed the swing. I didn’t feel any more at ease than I did when I came out here. Glancing over at the dimly lit windows over the garage, I wondered if my safe place had shifted. It was late, and though it was my day off tomorrow, I knew Adam would have to be up early for work. And I really wasn’t sure if we were at the point in our relationship where I could show up unannounced and cry on his shoulder.

  I was standing in the yard, halfway between my door and his, chewing on my bottom lip and trying to decide which way to go, when a car pulled into the driveway and headlights blinded me. Though I couldn’t see, I recognized the loud roar of the souped up engine as Chet’s. What the hell was he doing here? And at this late hour? A month ago I would have known the answer to that question, but we weren’t together anymore.

  The headlights went off, and the engine quieted. Glaring into the darkness of the car, I put my hands on my hips and marched over to the driver’s side of the car. Chet rolled down his window and flicked the ashes off his cigarette.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded. My anger at my mom was bleeding over into anger with Chet, and I couldn’t keep my voice from shaking and tears from pricking my eyes.

  “Hey, babe. Thought you might want some company tonight,” he replied cockily with his sexiest smirk.

  I opened my mouth to tell him where he could go, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  “She already has company. Next time, wait to be invited,” said Adam.

  Chet looked like he was about to get out of the car and send Adam flying across the driveway. I took a step in front of Adam, but he gently took my hand and pulled me with him towards the garage. When we climbed the steps to his apartment, I saw Chet toss his cigarette out the window and squeal his tires as he tore back out of the driveway.

  Adam opened his door and tugged on my hand so I would follow him inside. Shutting the door behind me, he said, “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, but when Adam raised an eyebrow at me, I shook my head.

  “Is it him?” he asked, his voice and eyes hard.

  “No.”

  “Is it me?”

  “No!”

  He seemed to relax slightly then.

  Feeling like I needed to explain, I said, “My mom called tonight. She’s never been around much. Gram raised me, and it always upsets me when she calls. Then Chet showed up like he used to…before.” Knowing I was on the verge of becoming a blubbering annoying girl, I said, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to bother you with this stupid stuff. It’s late and you have to get up early.”

  I started to back up toward the door to leave, but Adam’s arm snaked out and he caught my hand in his.

  “You never bother me, Brooke. I’m always here when you need to talk or you’re upset about something. I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t come to me. Okay?”

  Overwhelmed by emotion that someone cared that much about me; I could only nod as a single tear dripped down my cheek.

  Adam swore softly under his breath and led me over to his bed. I hadn’t noticed before that he was wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt. He had probably been in bed when Chet’s loud stupid car woke him up.

  Adam left me standing by the bed while he rummaged around in his dresser. Coming back over to me with one of his t-shirts, he said, “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

  I bit my lip and nodded. I wasn’t sure what he would expect, but I don’t think I could have denied him anything at that point.

  He took the hem of my tank top and pulled it over my head. Quickly he replaced it with his shirt, which fell to my upper thighs. Then he reached under the shirt and pulled my shorts down my legs. My breath was coming a little quicker from the trail of his fingers down my bare legs.

  But he didn’t touch me anywhere else. He just held up the covers so I could crawl in. Then he lay down beside me and switched off the lamp on the bedside table. Pulling me close so my head rested on his chest, I felt him kiss the top of my head.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Adam asked softly.

  “No.”

  He didn’t say anymore, and he didn’t make any moves other than to run his hand over my hair and occasionally plant a soft kiss on the top of my head.

  My body was relaxed thanks to Adam’s light caresses, but my mind was still a jumble of thoughts. It was a long time before I drifted off, long after Adam, judging by his deep even breathing shortly after we got in bed.

  The smell of coffee teased me from sleep the next morning. Rolling over I was disappointed to find myself alone in Adam’s bed. This was the second time I had slept here, but only the first time I was happy to wake up here. Last night was definitely a first for me - sleeping with a guy and only sleeping. It was nice, but it also left me wishing we hadn’t just slept.

  Lying on my stomach I stretched my arms over my head and buried my face in the pillow.

  “If you don’t stop making those sexy little noises, I’m going to be late for work,” Adam said, running his hand down my spine and over the curve of my butt.

  I rolled over and smiled up at him. He was dressed for work in dress slacks, a button down shirt and a sweater vest. He rarely wore his glasses when he wasn’t working, and I wondered why. Because they made him look so nerdy sexy.

  “I’m starting to think you’re all talk and no action,” I teased. “We haven’t even passed second base yet.”

  His eyes flared with heat, and before I knew it he was on top of me. One hand pinned both of mine over my head, and his other hand trailed down my side and slipped underneath my shirt. Instinctively I arched my back, willing his hand to go higher.

  Adam leaned down and nipped at my bottom lip before thoroughly kissing me senseless. When he sat up, I could see his erection straining behind the fly of his pants.

  “Will you stay over again tonight? After the carnival?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I breathed, still incredibly turned on from just his kiss.

  “Good,” he smirked. “No talking allowed tonight.”

  I was nearly giddy with anticipation. Maybe he would forget that this was only our fourth date and not the sixth.

  As if he could read my mind, he said, “I haven’t forgotten the rules. But there are a lot of things we can do between first base and a home run.”

  I sat up and pulled the sheets up to my waist as I watched him pour his coffee into a travel mug and stuff some papers into his briefcase. Before he left he came over and planted a kiss on my mouth.

  “Stay here as long as you want. And make sure to roll around on the sheets. I like it when they smell like you.” He winked at me.

  He was halfway out the door when I called out, “Oh, Adam? I might do more than just roll around.” Then I winked at him.

  His mouth dropped open and then he cleared his throat and regained his composure. Shaking his head, he shut the door behind him.

  I did stay in his bed for another hour, though I didn’t do what I had hinted at. If he stayed true to his word, I would only have to wait until tonight to get some relief from the ache low in my belly. The ache that seemed to flare up whenever Adam was around. Or when I thought of Adam. Or when I pictured Adam in his sweater vest and glasses.

  When I thought it was late enough that Gram might wonder where I was, I got up and changed back into my shorts and tank top. I neatly made Adam’s bed and locked the door behind me when I left.

  I glanced over at my swing as I walked down the stairs on the outside of the garage. Thinking of how peacefully I had slept in Adam’s arms, I knew I had found my new safe place.

  Chapter Sixteen

&nb
sp; Adam

  Puppies. Sleeping puppies. Sleeping puppies on fire.

  I tried to think of anything other than Brooke lying half naked in my bed. Brooke doing God knows what in my bed…by herself.

  Slowing to a stop at the only traffic light between my place and the school, I thumped my head back against the head rest. What kind of a sick fuck was still turned on after thinking about sleeping puppies on fire?

  One who had the sexiest redhead on the face of the Earth in his bed. That’s who.

  My phone rang and the display showed it was my best friend from college, Graham.

  “What’s up, Graham,” I answered.

  “Hey, Adam. How’s it going out there in Mayberry?”

  Graham and I had been roommates all four years of college. After graduation I had started teaching while he went on to law school at Harvard. We had roomed together again when he moved to New York City to start working. He had given me a hard time about taking this job and leaving the city.

  “It’s turning out okay,” I replied. Truthfully it was. The only thing I missed about the city was Graham. It seems a certain redhead had been very welcoming and helpful in my transition to small town living.

  “Really? I would have thought you’d be ready to throw in the towel by now. What’s it been? Three weeks?” I could hear the skepticism in Graham’s voice. He was born and bred in the city. I knew he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

  “Yeah, well. The job has its challenges, but overall it’s a quieter, slower pace here. It’s nice.”

  “Nice?” Graham scoffed. “How are the people? You’re not just holed up in your apartment like a loser, are you?”

  I rolled my eyes. We were complete opposites, yet the best of friends. “The people are great. Hey, you’ll never believe who lives happily in this small town?”