Conner wraps an arm around her as if claiming her for his own. I may be embroiled in a fake relationship with Jaxson, but it’s clear to me Larissa is currently in one with my brother. Larissa mentioned that she and Jaxson were practically living together. I doubt that since he’s actually living with his mother at the moment, but she does work with him—and Oak Grove is a very small town. I’m pretty sure he’s dipped his wick into that toxic sludge she has sloshing between her legs. That sex graph they show you in sixth grade comes flooding back to me. If I slept with Jaxson, that means I’ve technically done the deed with everyone he’s ever mattress tackled. It’s like some syphilis pyramid scheme that I’ve unwittingly become a part of.
“Here’s the man of the hour.” Larissa hops to her feet and assaults Jax before he has the chance to say hello. I watch with a newfound scrutiny the way his hand glides down her back, how he leans into that kiss she plants on his cheek, and a raging fire pulses through my veins. So it’s true. They have a thing. They have a thing? I still can’t seem to reconcile that thought.
Jax sits next to me and offers a friendly side hug—friendly being the operative word. So, all that I love you stuff was just something akin to whitewashed feelings you might have for some distant relative? A part of me was hoping that he would wake up and smell our fresh-baked future together. I thought it could truly be as rosy as we built it up to be.
“Have you eaten?” He leans in with that sexy smile, and it kills me to see him looking so good, smelling like fresh washed clothes mixed with expensive cologne. He’s wearing a blue and white checkered flannel that sets off his eyes like a blaze, and I would do anything to dip my tongue in that dimple winking my way at the moment. But he’s not mine. And just like that, it hits me. He never will be.
“Um—I haven’t.” I touch my fingers to my temple. “I’m actually starting to get a bit of a headache. I think I’d better get home. It’s been a long day, and we have a big celebration coming right up. I might need all of tomorrow just to prep for the big day.”
Conner and Larissa break out into laughter over something she said—I’d accuse her of slighting me, but I doubt Conner would tolerate that from Larissa or anyone else. He’s always been a rather protective big brother.
But Mack, on the other hand, is busy eavesdropping on me while dragging her fries through the blob of ketchup on her plate, making little hearts over and over again. The nerve.
Jax pulls my seat toward his and hitches the hair behind my ear. “We can make it quick. It’ll be fun. Riss and Conner are here.”
Riss?
My eyes widen with abject horror at the obvious insight I’ve been missing out on. Clearly Riss was coming from a place of honesty when she mentioned the fact she and Jax were pretty tight.
“Why don’t you hang out with Riss and Conner? I’d hate for you to miss out on all the fun.” The words couldn’t come out more deadly if they were laced with arsenic. “I’ll see you on Saturday for the big reveal.” I cinch my purse over my shoulder. “Don’t call me. I’ll call you.”
I head out into the snow, into freezing subarctic temperatures, and slip and slide all the way to my mother’s loaner car. In hindsight, I can’t wait to get back to L.A. where at least all of my fake relationships are on the up and up.
Come Saturday night, Jaxson and I are over for good.
Jaxson
All night I sent Poppy text messages, and all night she continued to ignore them.
It’s a long day at the office, and by the time I wrap things up, it’s dark as shit outside.
I start packing up my briefcase, and a shadow darkens the door. For a moment, I’m filled with hope as a female frame swivels in the shadows, and just as I’m about to call out for Eight Ball, Larissa’s face comes into view.
“You’re here late.” I finish buttoning up my briefcase and head for the door.
“Just as late as you. I think you’re working me too hard.” She reaches up and gives my earlobe a tug as we make our way to the elevator.
“Sorry about that. It’s Friday night. You should be out there having a good time with Conner. How are things going with the two of you, anyway?” I’ll admit I wasn’t impressed when they started getting close, but they really did appear to get along great last night. Not that I stayed after Poppy took off. I hit the door right after she did.
“Conner?” She laughs at the thought, and my heart breaks for my good friend. “We’re just friends.”
The elevator opens, and I step in after her.
“Don’t worry, Jax.” She gives my tie a quick tug. “Once Poppy leaves, you can have your place back on my mattress.”
My heart sinks. I’ve slept with Larissa, exactly twice, and I don’t plan on partaking in that madness ever again. The thought of being with anyone at all once Poppy leaves makes my balls want to shrivel up.
“You don’t need to save that spot for me.” It comes out far more despondent than I meant it to.
“Wow. She’s screwing with your head, isn’t she?”
“No, not at all. Poppy and I are good.” Are we? That sounds like the biggest lie of the year.
“That’s funny. She just about told me the same thing. She says she can’t wait to get back to L.A. and get on with her life. Sounds like she’s pretty tired of this charade the two of you have going on.”
My heart stops. “You didn’t say anything, did you?”
“Who me? Never. My lips are sealed.” She glances to my crotch. “Until you want them opened.”
I’m quick to look away from the invite. But I’m relieved she didn’t say anything to Pops. A few days ago Larissa evidently overhead Mack letting Conner in on our dirty little secret, and she came to me for affirmation. My hands were tied, so I told her it was true. But I know that she and Poppy have butted heads more times than not, and I’d hate for Riss to somehow use this situation to needle her.
We go our separate ways, and I sit in my truck for a minute, sending one last text to Poppy.
It’s our last night together before we dismantle what our mothers are already touting as their greatest living achievement, and I would love to see Poppy. Hell, I need to see her.
It’s not like her to ignore every text I send.
You either lost your phone or you just remembered you hate my guts. Want to give me a hint? As playful as I try to sound, I hate the words as I type them because I think I know what the answer will be.
A moment thumps by, and then miraculously my phone lights up. Phone’s here.
I can’t help but expel a dry laugh. “Smart ass.” At least she feels something for me—too bad it’s disdain.
My heart grows as heavy as the world. I used to feel her disappointment in me, her dislike, distrust, and I never understood where it was coming from. Time stepped between us, and then she was three states away in California. I’d love to clear things up. Get some answers. I can handle the fact she doesn’t like me, but I’m determined to find out why.
I don’t text back. Instead, I start the car and head on over to the Montgomery house.
Maybe after all these years, I’ll finally get the answers I’ve been looking for.
The moon is full, casting its brilliant blue shadow over the snow that outlines the road. The Montgomery home is dark as a tomb, and the only light around is the one coming from Poppy’s old bedroom. My heart warms at the sight of it. That’s where Poppy and I first made love. She became mine in the most intimate way, and I was more than happy to have her. I’ve never felt as strongly for anyone as I do for her, and it made everything that happened that night ten times more meaningful.
Instead of scaring her off with another text, I pick up a handful of change from my dash and head out just under her window. Carefully, I toss coin after coin up at the glass until the lights go off in her room and her face blinks into view.
I jump up and down, waving until her window slides open.
“Do I need a restraining order?” She laughs through her words.
“No, you need a coat. Get some shoes on, too. There’s some place I need to take you.”
It takes less than five minutes for Pops to show up at the door and shuffle her way out to me in what looks like her PJs underneath a bright pink snow jacket that comes down past her knees. She’s wearing snow boots with rainbows printed on either side of each shoe, something they sell at the supermarket for tourists this time of year. But just seeing Poppy, that smile begging to let loose on her face, makes my heart soar to the next galaxy.
“You look beautiful.”
She growls in lieu of a response, and I hold up my hands. “Easy, girl. How about this? You come with me and let me show you what I have planned, and we don’t need to say a word to one another until we get there.”
She shakes her head, the venom in her eyes only slightly subduing. “Try again, Gordo.”
“Fine. If you’re going to be like that, then we don’t have to say a word to each other at all.”
“Better.” Her mouth contorts as if she’s carefully choosing her words. “And drop the attitude.”
“My attitude?” She’s got to be kidding. “Deal.” This isn’t about me trying to control her or God forbid piss her off. I just want to show her something. Maybe glean a few answers for myself in the process.
Poppy hops into my car, and I drive us down to my mother’s estate. We pass my future home, which looks like nothing more than a skeleton of what it will be. The contractor put off construction for six weeks until the weather clears a bit, and I offer a mean look to the project as if it were the contractor himself.
Instead of pulling in close to the house, I curve around toward that old ancient oak set in front of the circular driveway and kill the engine.
“Remember this?” I glance up at the mega structure my father built for me, the tree house in which Poppy and I spent hours doing everything and nothing. It’s solid as far as construction goes. It has four walls and a roof, and there’s a window in the ceiling that rolls open so you can star gaze without obstruction.
We get out, and she follows me to the other side of the enormous trunk where I give the trunk a good kick and snow tumbles down in chunks.
“Ladies first,” I offer while presenting the tree house as if it were a prize. It is. Or at least it used to be.
Poppy grunts as she starts up the old wooden steps nailed into the tree. I follow close behind until she makes her way inside, and I head in right after her.
“It’s freezing in here!” She falls to her knees out of habit. It’s tall enough for both of us to stand, but the first thing we used to do when we made our way up was get on the floor and start in on the serious business of childhood.
“I’ve got a solution.” I roll out a couple of old sleeping bags that have been stored in here for years and sprawl them out over the clapboard flooring. The window in the ceiling is covered with a small film of snow, so I give it a few quick thumps until it slides right off and roll down the glass, exposing us to a navy night filled with a million diamond stars.
Wordlessly, Poppy and I assume the position shoulder to shoulder as we lie on our backs staring up at the dark starry night.
“Don’t hate me, Pops,” I whisper.
“I came under the pretense that there wouldn’t be any conversing,” she whispers right back.
“I’m breaking the rules.”
A silent laugh bucks through her chest. “You always do. Your world, your rules.” She snuggles her shoulder up against mine. “You know, I never once thought that the Stade millions—excuse me, billions ever got into your head or your ego—but I guess I was wrong.”
“Geez, Eight Ball, relax. I just thought we should have a conversation. Tomorrow is it.” Not that I want it to be. “I wanted one more night, just you and me.”
“Just one,” she says the words so low I might have imagined them.
“I’m going to miss you.” There. I grew a pair and said it.
“That’s nice.” And she slices my balls right off.
“Can I ask you a question?”
A heavy sigh expels from her. “I don’t see how I can stop you.”
“Okay—what was so special about Miles Frampton?”
“Ha!” she squawks it out so loud an owl darts right past the window. “Wouldn’t you like to know? What was so special about the two million skanks you’ve slept with?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I swear to you,” I bleed it out with the fervor of a husband accused of cheating on his wife. That’s oddly how it feels around Pops, like we’ve been married for years. It’s not always such a good thing.
“Why do you care? Miles was one person who was in my life for like five seconds over an eon ago.”
“I do.” Miles was the first person anyone had ever left me for. I wanted Poppy to like me, to look at me the way other girls did, and, instead, she turned her interests elsewhere. What Poppy doesn’t know is, that fast forward to graduation day, I was determined to end the cold war between us. I asked Conner to help orchestrate a peace treaty. I was going to meet her at the base of this oak where we once shared our first kiss, albeit an innocent peck at the tender age of seven.
I clear my throat a bit. “We were good until we weren’t. What happened?”
“That’s ancient history, Gordo.” Her hand flops by her side, and I’m quick to lace our fingers together.
“I’ve always been a fan of studying the past.” I swallow hard at what comes next. “Did I do something to upset you?”
“Not really.” Her voice grows sad. “It’s kind of stupid, actually.”
“So, you’re not going to tell me?”
“Nope.”
“Well, if you did, I would probably tell you it wasn’t all that stupid. I was stupid at the time, and I probably didn’t even mean whatever it is I did.”
“Maybe. Did you mean it when you flat out disowned our friendship in tenth grade?”
Crap. That I do remember. “For the record, I’ve always felt like an ass for that. But in my defense, I thought you were getting ready to toss a jab my way, and instead of taking it like a man, I thought I’d strike first.” Sometimes telling the truth hurts, and this is one of those times.
She gives my hand a slight squeeze. “I appreciate your honesty.”
A moment bounces by, and the tiny room clogs up with the sound of our breathing.
“I’d appreciate some honesty, Pops. What has you so upset with me?”
Silence slices by, sharp as a razor. “I don’t know, maybe after the party.” Her voice is small and fragile. “I don’t want to talk about any of this.” A white plume emits from her mouth as the room grows increasingly frigid.
I roll over onto my side and gaze down at her with her hair splayed all around like a halo.
“Okay, we won’t talk.” Instead, I land my finger over her lips and gently outline her features. She’s so achingly beautiful with the moon kissing her face, her eyes glowing like otherworldly beacons, those perfectly full pink lips. I have never quite met a girl like Poppy, and I’m not sure I ever will.
I edge my way in close to her until my lids grow heavy and I can no longer keep them open. “Forgive me,” I whisper right over her lips as my mouth makes a home over hers. Poppy freezes beneath me as I press out slow, lingering kisses before she lets out a sigh and her fingers grip me by the jacket, pulling me closer.
Poppy and I stay the night, knit together by our mouths, taking care of each other, loving one another the only way we know how, without words, without mention of a tarnished past, just one tender kiss at a time, and then we start all over again.
I’m in love with this girl.
I don’t think I can ever let her go.
I can’t.
She’s mine.
Saturday comes like an unwanted guest at a party that you never wanted to throw in the first place. And ironically, all of those euphemisms have somehow managed to morph into reality, on this, the day my mother will celebrate her sixtieth birthday
party with her best friend. By the time I shower and dress, there’s a small army of people trekking in and out of the house. By evening the wait staff is a hundred strong as the pre-party bustle is in full swing. The entire downstairs has been transformed into party central with the grand room decked out with an oversized silver banner reading Happy Birthday Charlene and Deb! A wreath of white balloons outlines the room, and bouquets of long stem roses sit on an entire army of tables set out for the guests.
Mom comes traipsing in from the next room with her hair done up, her lips painted a bright shade of fuchsia that makes her eyes glow bright.
“Happy birthday!” I give the birthday girl herself a quick embrace.
“It’s about time!” She swats me away. “The guests are arriving! Go help your sister with the baby. I need everything perfect. Char and Poppy are on their way,” she sings as trots on by.
Poppy. Those kisses we shared last night were the sole reason I woke up with a smile—and a woody. And even though that’s an everyday occurrence, this one was just for her.
I head out to the front, and Jensen runs right into my arms. “Whoa, buddy.” I pick him up and swing him through the air. “You got your turbo shoes on today?” He giggles up a storm as I land him safely back on the ground. “Get in there and give your grandmother a big fat birthday kiss.” He takes off like a lightning rod. My mother’s birthday is in a week, and Charlene’s is the week after that, but they chose this fine day to gather the masses for the cutting of the cake and the announcement they’ve been teasing for the better part of the last few months. In a way, I’m glad to get that over with. The endless lists my mother threw at me, the endless chatter about the party, the anticipation of having hundreds of her closest friends milling around for the evening—she exhausted me on the event, and it hasn’t even come to fruition. But here we are.
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