by Jay McLean
“I don’t know,” I mumble. “I guess it felt wrong to say it, but it definitely feels right to live it.”
Chapter Thirty
LUCAS
For the next couple of weeks, Laney and I date… without the actual dating part. We sneak in a kiss now and then, a boob grab sporadically, but besides that we don’t have a lot of spare time. With me practicing four days a week instead of three and her working every possible shift she can get to earn the money she so adamantly needs to pay back, it doesn’t leave room for much else. Now Dad’s gone on a business trip for a week, leaving Leo and me in charge which means I’m sleeping in the main house and I’m starting to lose my damn mind.
My family responsibilities had always been a problem with my previous girlfriends; I didn’t spend enough time with them, I didn’t take them on enough dates, I didn’t answer every single phone call every five minutes and why the hell did I have to be home at seven, on the dot, every night? They didn’t understand. But Laney does. “Maybe I should stay here for the week while your dad’s gone. Help out when I can?”
“You’re sweet,” I tell her, leaning on the kitchen counter flipping through one of Mom’s old recipe books for something I can make for Lachlan’s bake sale tomorrow. “But I don’t want you sleeping in the apartment by yourself, and I don’t think Dad would let you sleep in here. Do we have cocoa powder?”
She checks the pantry. “Nope. What are you looking for?”
“Lachy’s got a bake sale, and I need to make twenty-five of something.”
“You’re going to bake?”
“I’m going to try,” I say, flip, flip, flipping the pages. “And I need to do it soon because I have so much homework to do and I need to help Logan with his and make sure he does his piss cup and oh! Maybe you can bring the cup to Misty if she’s staying at your house, it saves me a trip.”
Her nose scrunches.
“Yeah. I didn’t think that one through.”
“Where’s Leo?”
“Basketball practice with the twins.”
“Okay,” she says, “I’m not going to touch a cup with Logan’s urine in it, but how about I do the baking, you do your homework, and when the cookies are in the oven, I’ll help Logan with his?”
“Cookies?”
“They’re quick and easy and”—she closes the recipe book—“I don’t need a recipe and you already have all the ingredients.”
“Really?” I ask, my shoulders suddenly rid of the weight they’d been carrying. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
I hug her tight, squeeze her boob.
Twenty minutes later I’m at the kitchen table drowning in textbooks and websites, and Lane’s got the cookies in the oven. Logan walks in through the back door (God knows where he’s been) and sniffs the air. “What the hell is that? It’s like heaven in my nostrils.”
“Cookies,” Lane tells him. “And you can have one as soon as you finish your homework. Go get your books.”
“No,” he says.
She puts her hand on her waist, raises an eyebrow. Intimidating Laney is fucking hot.
Logan rolls his eyes, looks at me as he passes. “I liked her better when you weren’t dipping your cock in her.”
I stick my foot out, he trips over it, lands on his side. “Watch your fucking mouth.”
“Fucking mouth!” Lachlan yells. Seriously, where the hell do all these people come from?
Lane kneels in front of him. “Don’t repeat what people say,” she says.
“Don’t repeat what people say.” He giggles.
“Cheeky boy.” She ruffles his hair. “Can you go up to your room and build me a skyscraper with your Legos?”
“Yes, ma’am!” And he’s off, and Logan’s up, and Laney’s checking on the cookies, and I say, “You’re going to be a great mom someday.”
She smiles. “Well, I have your mom to thank for that.”
It hurts my heart to know that she didn’t have that, that the little time she spent with my mom is all she has for guidance. “Hey, did your mom contact you on your birthday?”
She laughs once, bitter. “Did you expect her to?”
I shrug. “I was hoping.”
Her head tilts to the side and she watches me a moment, then she takes the chair next to mine. “We’re basically strangers now, and I think it’s been like that ever since I left but I didn’t want to admit it. Sometimes I think about her, you know? And I wonder if she does the same with me. I get this romantic notion in my head that one day she’ll appear out of nowhere and realize she misses me. It’s so pathetic.”
“It’s not,” I say quickly, settling my hand on her knee. “She’s still around, so it’s always a possibility. With my mom, it was like… one night I fell asleep, and the next morning she was gone.”
“I’m sorry, Luke,” she says. And I know she is.
“I have this fear,” I tell her, and I don’t know if I should, but I do. “That one day, I’m going to wake up and you won’t be here. You’ll be gone, just like she was. And I know it sounds stupid but losing her… you saw what that did to me. You were there. And if anything ever happened to my brothers or to you…”
“Stop,” she whispers, holding my head in her hands. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
I tilt my head, kiss her palm. “You know how I feel about you, right?”
“I know.” She smiles. “Me too.”
Once everyone’s down for the night, I call Dad from my old bedroom. I catch him up on what’s been going on, assure him that everything’s okay. He asks about the bake sale, and I tell him Lane took care of it.
“Is she staying at the house while I’m gone?” he asks.
“No. I know the rules.”
He chuckles. “I figured you’d know that the rules don’t apply to Lane.”
“What do you mean?”
“The boys see her as a constant around the house. If it’s going to help to have her around she can stay with you.”
“But—”
“Only if you want her to.”
“It would help so much.”
“I trust you, Luke, and I trust her. Just don’t give me a reason to regret that.”
“Okay.”
“And if Logan has something to say—if he thinks my decision is setting some sort of precedent, just get him to pee in a cup every hour. My orders.”
I laugh. “Okay.”
“I love you, son, and thank you.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
The words are so simple, so rehearsed, and yet I can’t even say it to the girl who holds my heart.
I text Lane, tell her the news.
She sends me back a ton of emojis insinuating hand jobs and blowjobs and wild monkey sex. I write back: With my brothers in the house?
She replies: Gross. But cuggles?
All damn night, baby!
I’d love to say that cuggling Laney is amazing, but I wouldn’t fucking know because some seven-year-old germ keeps crawling into bed with us at night and my girlfriend keeps letting him. Five nights she’s spent with us, and all five nights there have been three in the bed and the little one said, “I’m in the middle!” But really, I shouldn’t complain because having her around helps a lot. I don’t think the house has ever been this clean and organized, and we’re eating more than just pizza and take out, and the twins ask her if she can move in permanently. Brian and Misty have checked in twice, probably hoping we haven’t killed her or scarred her for life, but I wasn’t kidding when I told her she’d be a good mother. The one problem would be getting her up in the mornings. The only thing that works now is a reach-over-Lachy vicious boob grab and even then, it still takes her three coffees to function as a human.
Now, we’re sitting on the dock, alone, for some much-deserved peace and quiet. I’m lying on my back and she’s resting on her elbow, leaning over me. She strokes my jaw, pouts down at me, waits for my anger to fade. That kid Evan from her work has been texting
her, asking what’s up. Last night, I went to pick her up and he was in my booth with her.
“You’re being ridiculous, Luke!”
“Just tell me how far you guys went and I’ll stop,” I grumble, arms crossed.
Smiling, she says, “Trying not to laugh when you’re like this is like trying to keep it together when a toddler yells, ‘Fuck’ in the middle of a busy store.”
Next to us, our textbooks sit, open but forgotten. “It’s not funny, Lane.” I gently push her hand away. “You’re so secretive about it all. I don’t like Secretive Laney!”
After a sigh, she settles her head on my shoulder. “We didn’t even kiss, and just so you know, I hadn’t done anything but kiss with any other guy before you.”
“Not even a handy?”
“Oh my God.” She giggles. “No.”
“Dad’s coming home tonight, so maybe I can have one of those,” I try to joke.
She sits up again, looks down at me. “Not if you keep talking about guys touching me.”
“I didn’t say anything about guys touching you. I said you touching them! Did he touch you? I’ll kill ’em dead, babe.”
“Luke, stop.”
“Did they? Just a little tit tap?”
“Enough!”
I almost ask her about how far she went with Cooper, but I already know the answer and it’s making me want to jump in the lake and drown myself.
“Are you hungry?” she asks. “You always get cranky when you’re hungry.”
I cross my arms again. “A little,” I admit, then tug on her shirt for her to lie down with me again. She’s closer now, her arm and leg over me, her fingers tapping on my chest. I shift her so she’s on top of me, my legs spread, hers between them.
She says, her forearms on my chest and her fingertips stroking my jaw, “Do you know how many times I dreamed about this?”
“About what?”
“Laying here with you. This close. Having you touch me the way you are, being able to look at you and not fear getting caught.” She dips her head, kisses me once. “Being able to kiss you.”
“Same,” I admit. “Sometimes I’d see Cam and Luce out here and imagine it was us.”
Her lips twitch, curve up at the corners. “Really?”
I nod. “Really.” Then I look around, make sure we’re alone. “You want to fool around a little?”
Her eyes roll, but her smile spreads. “I guess.”
Making out with Laney is equivalent to having sex with any other girl. Swear it. I’m hard before her mouth meets mine and I wish we weren’t out here, in the open, because I know we’re not getting much further but the kissing alone drives us both insane. She moves to straddle me, her hips jerking back and forth, rubbing against me in all the right ways. She whispers my name, her mouth still on mine, and I reach up the front of her shirt and cup her breasts. Her movements change, thrusting and grinding, and I decide here and now to make her come because I’ve been craving those sounds. She bites down on my lip, and I know she’s close so I grab her ass, lift my hips higher so—“Are you sexing?” Lachlan shouts, and Lane rolls off me so fast she almost falls off the dock and into the water.
I sit up, scan our surroundings, and see Lachlan hiding behind a tree. “What the hell are you doing?” I shout, my cock aching in my jeans. “You know you’re not allowed to be this close to the lake on your own! Who’s meant to be watching you?”
He breaks out in a giggle and Laney’s on her feet, picking up our books.
I don’t get up yet, not really ready to have the conversation with Lachlan about what the bulge is in the front of my pants.
“Who’s watching you, bud?” Lane coos.
Girls have it easy. They can be turned on, come in their pants and no one knows. I’ve got the Leaning Tower of Pisa poking my zipper.
Lachy walks toward us, a bunch of sticks in his hand. “Linc and Liam,” he tells us.
“Well, where the fuck are they?” I snap.
Lane gasps. “Luke!”
Lachy laughs. “Luke said fuck.”
“Don’t say that word, buddy,” Lane tells him.
I adjust myself and get up, hoping it’s not too obvious. “We’re not done,” I tell Lane, walking past her to get to Lachlan. “Where are they?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “In the house.”
“And you just left?”
“They’re fighting. Linc’s got a baseball bat and he’s shouting at Liam.”
I take his hand. “Come on.”
We hear Linc yelling before we get to the inner fence. “Tell me!” he shouts, “I’ll kill ’em.”
I meet Lane’s panicked eyes and we dash for the house, Lachlan in tow.
Linc’s pacing the living room, baseball bat over his shoulder while Liam… “Holy shit. What happened?” I sit on the couch next to him. There’s blood on his lip, a gash above his eye. His elbows are grazed, his glasses crooked. I glare up at Linc. “What did you do?”
“It wasn’t me!” he shouts.
Lane’s on the other side of Liam now, her touch gentle as she checks over his face. “Are you okay?”
Liam presses his lips tight, shaking his head and refusing to answer.
My heart pounds, fear choking me.
“Tell me!” Linc yells.
“What the hell happened?” I boom, hearing Dad in my tone.
Linc stops pacing just long enough to say, “I had detention after school and Liam had to get Lachlan and I came home and he was like this.”
“It happened before I got Lachlan,” Liam croaks, his words rushed, his eyes darting between Lane and me. “Lachlan didn’t see anything. I swear.”
“It’s okay,” Laney says, hugging him to her.
I inhale deeply, exhale slowly, try to think of the right thing to do.
“Was it Benny and his boys?” Linc yells. “Swear, I’m going to kill them all.”
“Stop it!” Liam cries.
Laney holds him tighter.
“That Benny Watson kid?” I ask.
Linc nods. “He called Liam a fag at school today.”
“I’m not a fag!”
Linc sighs, his tone calmer when he says. “I know you’re not, but even if you are, who cares.” This is the dynamic of the twins. Even though they both get bullied, Liam has it worse because of his glasses and braces, and no matter how many times I tell him it’ll pass—that I’ve been there—he gets defensive and Lincoln gets angry, set on war.
“Did Benny do this?” I ask, tone clipped. Watching your little brother break down and not being able to do anything about it is fucking crushing. Liam’s sobs fill the room and Lincoln looks to me for answers—answers I don’t have.
“I’m going to kill him,” Linc grinds out.
“No, you won’t,” I snap. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Don’t tell Dad,” Liam cries.
I say, “I think we have to, dude.”
“You know what I think?” Laney says. She rears back, holds Liam’s face in her hands. “I think you look a lot like Luke when he was your age. Glasses, braces, everything. And I crushed so hard on him back then. You’re so handsome, and you’re just going to get better looking as the years go on.” She glances at me, and I smile. I can’t help it. “Screw those guys, Liam. They’re just jealous of how great you are.”
Liam sniffs. “You know what would make me feel better?” he mumbles.
“What?” she asks.
Then he moves in and fucking kisses her. And I’m not talking a peck on the lips, I’m talking full make out, sloppy twelve-year-old tongue and everything. Lane’s eyes widen, but then she laughs, his mouth covering hers and she lets him go on… until he grabs her boob, and I’ve had enough. I pull him away by his shirt while silent shock fills the room. Then Liam chuckles and Linc bursts out laughing. Liam gets up and his twin follows after him. They cackle all the way to the back door. “I can’t believe you did that!” Linc says.
Liam laughs.
�
�What do her boobs feel like?” Linc asks.
I groan.
“Like melons?” he pushes.
Liam laughs harder as he opens the back door. “Like peaches!”
I look over at Lane, raise an eyebrow. “What the hell was that?”
She shrugs, giggles. “At least he’s better now,” she says, straightening her clothes. “You did good, Luke.” Then she moves toward me, her lips puckered, and my nose scrunches, disgusted.
“Can you, like, gargle some mouthwash? I can’t kiss you when you’ve got traces of my brother in your mouth.”
She laughs but complies, and I sit on the couch and stare at the ceiling, wondering how the hell I’m going to handle this. She returns, her smile from ear-to-ear, and sits across my lap. “This good?” She kisses me, her minty lips reminding me of what we started. I adjust us so we’re lying on the couch, on our sides, and I return her kiss with more passion, more power. And I realize that her baggage might be her exes, but mine is my family. Hers are gone, but mine is forever. “Thank you,” I tell her between kisses.
“For what?”
“For being here and making everything okay again.”
She kisses me harder, her hands going between us, her fingers playing with my belt while mine sneak under the band of her jeans, and I get lost in the moment, in Laney. Until Lachlan cries, “Who’s supposed to be watching me?”
“Dammit,” I moan. I look up to see Lachlan standing beside us, his hand stuck in a fucking vase.
“It hurts,” he sobs.
Sighing, I sit up, moving Laney to the side so I can see his hand. “How did you even do this?”
“It hurts!” he screams. “It’s going purple, Lucas! Fix it!”
It is going purple and my fear is back and I’m on my knees trying to pull his hand out. It won’t budge, so I panic some more and start smashing it against the coffee table, but the vase is plastic and Lachlan’s crying louder, and I’m shouting louder for him to stop crying and now his hand’s turning blue and “How did this happen?” I yell. Smash, smash, smash on the table.
“Here,” Laney says, hand on my shoulder. She pushes me away, and I fall back on my heels, watch her pour baby oil into the vase and all over Lachlan’s arm and then pop. His hand releases and she scruffs his hair and tells him to wash his hands, but he’s rubbing the oil all over his clothes instead.