Lessons from a One-Night Stand

by Rayne, Piper

I take one of her cups and fill it with cold water from the fridge. “So, what’s going on?”

  She stares blankly at me. “Did you want to call Jack?”

  I pull out a chair from the kitchen table and sit down. “Nah, let’s chat.” I pat the chair next to me. “I’m a super good listener.”

  She smiles. “I’m sure you are, but I’m good. I’m redoing a table. That’s my therapy.”

  I stand, her outfit making more sense now. “Where at? I’d love to see you redo some furniture.”

  I step out of the kitchen and look around the living room, but then I figure she’s probably using the garage or basement. I open the garage door only to find her small SUV parked inside.

  “Basement?”

  “Austin, please, this just isn’t a good night.” She follows me down the basement stairs, and there sits a dresser with sanding tools on top of it, like she was just getting started.

  “This looks like fun. Not at all what it sounded like when I read it on your bio.” I finish my water and set the glass on what I assume is her tool table.

  “It’s not really. And we’re not supposed to do anything fun, remember our deal?”

  I tilt my head. “Um, I’m pretty sure all we’re supposed to do is have fun.”

  A small giggle escapes her and a little of the light returns to her eyes, making my stomach stir. “Yeah, but only when we were… you know. Not by refinishing furniture together.”

  I pick up the sander. “Well, we could modify the agreement. It’s not like we put it in writing.”

  She sits on the bottom step. “Austin,” she sighs.

  I’m being pushy, I get that, and maybe it’s the pseudo parent in me, but I hate seeing people upset. And just because we agreed to a mutually beneficial sexual relationship doesn’t mean I can’t be her friend too.

  I sit next to her on the step. “I can be your friend.”

  She shrugs.

  “I promise not to get attached.” I make a cross over my heart with my finger, spurring another giggle from her.

  “It’s not you I’m worried about,” she says, and I ignore the way her words make my heart beat faster.

  “How about this? After I listen to whatever is bothering you, I’ll treat you like shit.” She knocks her shoulder with mine, and I laugh. “What? I’m not sure there’s another solution here. I’m not going to leave you looking the way you are, so should I settle in for a long night of sanding?”

  She glances at me from the corner of her eye. “Fine, but do not be all sweet afterward. No touching.”

  “Sure. Okay.” I hold up my hands and stand, backing away from her.

  “And we’re doing it while we sand. It’s good for my furniture if I’m frustrated.” She walks by me and picks up the sanding tool.

  “You know, I kind of like this bossy side of you.”

  She rolls her eyes, smiling, and pulls her phone out to start music. “No One” by Alicia Keys sounds through her Bluetooth speaker.

  I meet her eyes.

  “What can I say, the parade reminded me of how much I love her.”

  Savannah picked “If I Ain’t Got You” this year to sing on the float. The girls in the family always pick sappy songs, whereas the guys pick more upbeat, “get your heart going and get the crowd involved” ones.

  She hands me a sander wedge. “You need to be gentle and not change the structure, but we have to get it down to the wood.”

  “Okay.”

  She places her hand over mine, sliding it and demonstrating the amount of pressure I’m supposed to use. I look at her after a few moments when she hasn’t removed her hand.

  “I feel a Ghost moment coming on,” I say.

  She drops her hand and shakes her head. Her smile says she liked the joke though. She walks to the other side and picks up her sanding wedge. “There you go. That’s how you do it.”

  “So, what’s bothering you?” I ask.

  “I told you about my father and why I took the job.”

  I nod, pretending to concentrate on the sanding when really I want to listen to every word coming out of her mouth.

  “I have yet to actually reach out to him.” She glances at me for a reaction, but I don’t give her one. “I’ve stalked him. Sat outside his work, and today I followed him home.” She cringes and looks at me once again.

  “And?”

  She waits, but I’m not judging her. I can’t imagine it’s easy to go up and introduce yourself to the father who wanted nothing to do with you.

  “He has a whole family here. A wife and three kids. I watched him take his little girl on a date to a diner.”

  I stop the pretext of sanding and watch as she inhales and closes her eyes.

  “Back home, I thought he was a selfish prick who didn’t want a kid—ever. But from outward appearances, he seems like a thoughtful dad and a good husband.” She bends down on the other side of the dresser so I can’t see her, but I hear the sander meeting wood.

  I don’t want to push her, so I remain where I am, pretending I don’t understand how hard she’s hurting.

  “It just hurts, you know?” Her voice cracks. “It brought up all those feelings of abandonment. All the daddy/daughter events I went to with my mom, all the Father’s Days that passed when I had no one to give the craft we made at school to, all the times I wished I had a man in my life to ask for advice about teenage boys. I thought I’d made peace with it, but after seeing him with his daughter, I realize I haven’t.” She sniffs.

  Fuck this. I drop my sander and round the dresser to find her sitting on the hard basement floor, her hands covering her face. I drop right in front of her, taking her hands. “He’s an asshole.”

  She looks at me with tears falling from her eyes. “That’s just it! I desperately want a relationship with an asshole who wants nothing to do with me. Why? Am I that desperate?”

  Her honesty makes a lump form in my throat.

  “Then you call your own number if he’s not going to.” I squeeze her hands.

  “What?”

  “It’s a sports term. It means your time is now, and if he’s not going to take the opportunity, you take it for yourself.”

  She shakes her head. “I can’t.”

  “You can. Call him. There could be a million reasons why he hasn’t reached out. You came all this way and you only have so long. Do you want to waste this opportunity?”

  “What if—”

  “What if nothing. Don’t even think about it, and I’ll promise you something.” I hold up my hands in a placating gesture. “I’ll be here for you.”

  She tilts her head.

  “Just as a friend.”

  Her lips tilt down in a frown.

  “Jeez. You’re a hard person to be friends with.”

  She laughs, and a smile replaces her frown.

  “But, Holly, you got to do it. I know it sucks but do it. You have nothing to lose. At least then you’ll have some answers.”

  She nods and inhales deeply. “Okay. I’ll call him tomorrow.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “No.” Her hand covers my cheek, and she stares into my eyes. “You’ve done enough.”

  Neither of us looks away from the other, and the energy in the room shifts. Maybe she was right, and I should’ve turned around on her back porch and left. But there’s no turning back now, so I lean forward and my lips land on hers.

  Twenty-Two

  Holly

  Austin hasn’t said anything I haven’t already been telling myself these past couple of weeks, but somehow hearing it from him, it rings true.

  I thought I knew how Austin Bailey kissed. He’s usually hungry for me, and I feel it from my head to my toes. His eyes scorching, his tongue searching, his hands frantic on my body. That’s the way it’s been.

  Until now.

  His hands cup my cheeks as he lowers his head to mine. My phone shuffles, and James Arthur’s “Can I Be Him” plays from the speaker. Our kiss consumes me. The ge
ntle slide of his tongue along the seam of my lips, his hands moving to the back of my head, the soft sound of satisfaction from the back of his throat.

  I straddle him, and his hands free my hair from the messy bun, the strands cascading over my shoulders. As he runs his fingers through it, I rise up and the kiss deepens. There’s nothing rushed about his exploration of my body. He’s yet to strip a layer of my clothes, but still, the feeling of vulnerability is present.

  He grows under my center and I grind against him, spurring him to tighten his grip on the back of my shirt.

  “Jesus, Holly.”

  We break apart, his lips traveling down my neck, my T-shirt in his fists, tightening and making it clear that I’m not wearing a bra. His gaze falls between us, flashing with desire, and my heart thumps so loudly I swear he must hear it. Seeing myself through Austin’s eyes has that effect on me. His desire is laid bare, and he hides nothing. That I’m the reason for that reaction is electrifying.

  “I need you,” he whispers before his teeth latch onto my earlobe.

  A shiver runs down my body and centers at the apex of my thighs. I wrap my hands around his neck, keeping him there as my body pushes against his strong chest, my core grinding along the tent of his athletic pants, my nipples peaked and rubbing on the cotton of my shirt. Intense need sets every nerve in my body on fire. Our bodies have minds of their own and can’t stop grinding against each other while he casts open-mouthed kisses across my neck and collarbone.

  I ache for his touch. Everywhere. And I’m desperate to touch him.

  The friction and heat of his body is no longer enough. I need him inside me.

  “Now, Austin. Please.”

  He manages to get us to stand, and I groan when I no longer feel him between my legs. He walks over to the old couch in the corner and flops down on it, stripping off his T-shirt. The sight of his rippling abdomen and strong arms is almost too much for me.

  I follow his lead and strip myself bare. Eager doesn’t even describe me.

  He kicks off his shoes, takes off his socks, and lifts to remove his pants. His eyes feast on me and I find I welcome it, unafraid that he won’t like what he sees. Having lost all patience, I take the condom from his hand, rip open the foil, and slide it down his length.

  He takes my hand and leads me to the other side of the couch, nudging me to my back. In seconds, he’s over me, pressing at the entrance between my legs. Without preamble, he slides inside. My back arches off the cushion and I struggle for breath, adjusting to his size.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I say, pulling his mouth to mine.

  Our mouths mesh together, our hot and heavy breathing finding a common rhythm and sounding in one another’s ears.

  He circles his hips, taking his time and sliding in and out at a pace that draws me closer and closer to orgasm. He’s giving me just enough to pull me to the edge and not enough to push me over. It’s the sweetest form of torture I can imagine. I drown in everything Austin Bailey gives me, and he doesn’t hold back. He’s giving me his whole self in this moment.

  “Open your eyes,” he says, his fingers brushing my cheek.

  My eyes flutter open, and he’s staring at me. Those dark brown eyes with gold flecks are shining and weighted with something I don’t want to examine. Some kind of emotion that’s outside of the agreement we made. It’s not only want and desire I find there. There’s so much more, and I ignore the piece of me that wants to come alive.

  “Austin,” I plead, my pending orgasm pushing all of those thoughts away. There’s not enough room for them when I’m this close.

  “I know, baby. I know,” he murmurs. His lips crash to mine and his pace increases.

  The word of endearment, one he shouldn’t be using, it sends me over the edge.

  I tighten my thighs around his waist and grab the couch cushion, clenching around his length. Stars burst behind my eyelids as pure pleasure and bliss lights my body on fire. He rises up on his elbows, plunging into me until he pumps a few times and stills.

  “Damn,” he says, nearly breathless.

  His eyes flash open, and for a split second, I see relief, then all the emotion that filled them moments ago transforms into anxiety. Awkwardness fills the silence in the basement.

  He rolls off me and stands. “I’ll be back.”

  He heads upstairs, and I grab my clothes, rushing to put them on so I’m dressed before he returns. By the time his footsteps barrel back down the steps, I’ve already turned off the music.

  Fail number one for sure. Don’t set the mood for lovemaking when you’re with your supposed fling.

  He looks at me and smirks, grabbing his own boxers and pants. “So, I take it I’m kicked out?”

  I bite my lip and look at him. Do we talk about what just happened or ignore this? “Probably best that you leave.”

  He sits next to me, pulling his shirt over his head. “You’re skittish.”

  “Austin.” I sigh.

  “I know. I know.” He looks around. “Maybe we alter our agreement?”

  “No!” I walk back over to the dresser and grab the sander to get back to work.

  He huffs but lets it go. “So, I have news.” He leans back, his arms extended across the back of the couch.

  It dawns on me that I never asked him about his good news. “I’m sorry.” I stop the sander and turn to give him my full attention. “I forgot to ask.”

  “USC called. I have an interview.”

  A smile breaks out on my face. “What? That’s great.”

  “Nothing’s for sure. It’s in three weeks, so…”

  I sit down next to him. “You must be so super excited.”

  He nods. “I am, but I don’t want to get my hopes up until it’s a done deal.”

  “That’s great, Austin.” I grip his knee. “I’m super happy for you.”

  He gives me a funny look. “Super.”

  I laugh. “Sorry, I’m emotionally and physically exhausted now. My vocabulary is currently operating at a teenager’s level.”

  He smiles and squeezes my hand that I just realized is still gripping his knee. “Thanks. I haven’t told my family yet, but…” His jaw clenches and he swallows.

  “What?” I shift to face him better and use the opportunity to remove my hand from his leg.

  “They aren’t really happy about me leaving. They all support my decision, but I can tell it saddens everyone. Everyone but Phoenix.”

  “Oh, I’m sure she’ll miss you.”

  “She wants to move to California with me.” He raises his eyebrows. “She wants to forget college and try to be a singer.”

  “Oh.” I play stupid about what Phoenix told me, but it brings what Sedona mentioned to mind. Austin side-tracked me with that kiss, so we never got around to discussing it. “That reminds me, I forgot I have to see you tomorrow to discuss their interviews.”

  He settles into the couch. “Well, let’s forget the elephant in the room then and talk about the Shining twins.”

  “I think we should do it in a professional setting.”

  He shrugs. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

  “I think it’s more appropriate.”

  He cups my cheek like he did before, meeting my gaze. “You think too much.”

  I lean into his strong hold because his touch feels good.

  I’m so screwed.

  I’ll leave Lake Starlight a complete mess if I don’t put an end to this.

  “Then you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

  “What?” His forehead wrinkles.

  “I think we need to stop this.”

  He smiles at me, leans in, and kisses my lips. “Sorry, baby, not happening.”

  I’m stunned for a second and don’t know what to say because, really, who says that? “It’s not your choice,” I manage to get out.

  “True.” He drops his hand and walks over to retrieve the sander, getting back to work. “You can’t stay away from
me any more than I can stay away from you at this point. So what if I didn’t nail you from behind? It was still sex, and you’re thinking too hard about it.”

  The sander along the wood is all I hear as I sit on the couch and think about what he said. He’s right. It felt emotional in the moment, but that doesn’t mean we’re emotional about each other outside of the sack. I can still walk away once our time is up. He was helping me feel better, distracting me like a good friend would do. That’s all.

  I hop up from the couch and grab the other sander. “You’re right. We got this.” I smile over the dresser at him before turning on my music but choose something that isn’t romantic.

  He grins back. “Definitely.”

  And if you believe that, you’re as stupid as Austin and I are in this moment.

  Twenty-Three

  Austin

  I walk into Holly’s office at the start of fourth period. She’s rounding her desk, giving me a chance to admire her perfect ass in her snug gray skirt. Once she’s on the other side, my eyes focus on the dip of her teal blouse. I never really thought blouses were sexy until Holly started walking the halls of Lake Starlight High.

  She leans forward on her desk to grab the girls’ files, and I inhale a quick breath.

  “Do me a favor? Don’t do that when any of the dads come in to discuss their kids, okay?”

  She looks at me, tilting her head.

  “They’ll enjoy the view like I am. Now I have a hard-on and we’re about to talk about my sisters.” I shake my head.

  She giggles. I love that sound. I didn’t realize how much until right now.

  Let’s just put it out there—I made love to her two nights ago. There I said it. “Damn it” was my immediate reaction afterward, but she was so sad. No way could I have grabbed a fistful of hair, bent her over, and fucked her. She deserved loving caresses and feeling special after what she found out about her asshole father. Since the bit of awkwardness right after, we’ve been back on plan.

  “Okay, well, this should get rid of that thing right away.” She glances between my legs. “Sedona wants to move to Scotland with Jamison.”