I roll my eyes. “Fine. I think it’s bullshit that I’m paying close to forty dollars on roses for someone else.”
“You’ll be rewarded later,” Sarah says.
“Better be,” I mumble as I march up to the counter and pay for all the stuff.
Once I’ve got everything, I head back to Bryce’s. He and I set up the rest of the items, then I shoot Sarah a text.
Bryce watches from the window. I watch from the bush. I swear this is such a bad idea.
Madison arrives, lurking through the yard using what looks to be her cell phone for lighting. As she comes closer to the fence, she hisses, “Sarah? Sarah, where are you?”
She turns her back to me and starts texting. I jump out of the bush and tackle her to the ground. A scream slips out, but I muffle the rest with my shirt and then manage a blindfold over her eyes. Like I said, worst idea ever! Madison wiggles and jerks in my grasp. She somehow manages to bite through the fabric of my shirt.
“Fuck!” I snarl.
“Gmmmmm!” she tries to shout. “Gmmmm mmrrr der uuuucker!”
“Not sure what you said but pretty sure it’s not nice.” I pull her up and haul her into the tree house.
Bryce gasps at me. “What the hell, man?”
“It’s Sarah’s idea. I was just doing what was instructed.” Even though I told her about a hundred times this was a plan sending me straight to hell. Or getting me punched in the face by not only by Maddy but Bryce as well, for tackling his girl to the ground.
He runs his fingers through his hair. “Fucking brilliant. Just let her go. Babe, I know you hate me. Probably even more now than you ever have. I’m sorry. I just … This is not how I wanted this to go.”
I set Madison down on the floor and yank the blindfold off her head. Her nostrils are flared, and she looks like she’s about to push me out of the tree house. “You’re a fucking asshole, Graham! And you!” She turns to Bryce and gasps. “What … what is all this?”
“I just …”
“Tell her, man,” I say as I back toward the door.
Bryce drops to a knee, and I leave the tree house.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sarah
“Oh my God! I should kill you, but I can’t.” Madison gushes through the phone. “Thank you! Seriously though, don’t do that again!”
“You’re welcome. I know you’re probably pissed at me, but I had to help.”
“I’m not mad. Well, not as mad. My knees still hurt from being tackled by your boyfriend.”
“Who I heard you bit.”
She laughs. “Yeah, and for good reason. I thought he was attacking me.”
“Not my most thought-out plan, but it worked. You ended up in the tree house.”
I can hear her smile. “That I did. He was in a tux, and rose petals were all over the floor. And the lights. Oh, he had twinkle lights all over. It was so beautiful. And when he got down on one knee I almost started crying. Then he explained what he was doing, why he seemed like he was sneaking around. Do you know he asked my dad for permission? Dad kind of flipped on him a little, but then he explained we wouldn’t tie the knot until after I graduate. Unless I wanted it sooner, but he really likes keeping all his limbs where they are.”
“I’m happy for you. I’m pulling into the driveway so you can tell me all about it when I get inside.”
“Oh. Okay.”
As soon as I enter the house, I feel like the outcast. Or like I just walked into something I shouldn’t have. Kyle and Emily jump about two feet from each other. Both have red cheeks, are breathing hard, and Emily looks really pissed off at me. “Don’t mind me. Going upstairs,” I say, trying to diffuse the situation.
“I was just getting a snack,” Kyle says.
I almost crack a joke, but Emily’s glare stops me. I shrug and move up the stairs. Emily trails behind me and whispers, “Don’t tell her anything. Please.”
I turn to Emily and say in a low voice, “Em, I’m not saying anything to anyone. But you should know he’s a big player.” I’m not saying this to be mean. My cousin has been known to avoid getting into relationships. He doesn’t see a girl for more than a month and only on the weekends. Yeah. He’s a jerk. But that’s how he is, and it’s not my job to change him.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” I say. Because every girl thinks they can change Kyle. At least this is what Madison has told me.
Emily nods, a smile gradually forming. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” She tiptoes back downstairs while I enter my bedroom. Madison practically pounces from her bed over to me.
“Look!” She holds up her hand smiling and giggling. “It’s so perfect. He told me you helped. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She squeezes me so tight I feel like my lungs are about to burst.
I tap her hip. “Maddy,” I say, “I can’t breathe.”
“Oh.” She lets go, and I heave for oxygen. “I’m sorry,” she says with a sheepish grin. Her excitement is infectious. “I’m just … so happy.”
“I can see that.”
Madison takes a seat on her bed—we detached the bunk beds before she left for college. “I don’t think Emily is too happy with me.”
I plop down on my own bed. “Why?”
“I don’t know. She thinks I’m making a mistake. She thinks we’re too young. I told her we’re waiting until after we both graduate.”
I nod. “I think she’ll get over it. Give her some time.”
“I am. She left the house for a bit. Cooling off or something.” She rolls her eyes.
I get off my bed and walk over to the dresser, where I start pulling out my nightclothes. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Okay. Warning: I might be passed out by the time you finish. It’s been one exhausting day.”
“Um, tell me about it. This ‘three in the morning to go shopping’ thing is not happening again. I’m drained.”
“You had fun though, right? I mean, I know it’s not like your shopping trips you used to have or anything,” Madison says with a slight frown.
I smile. “I did have fun. And honestly, at least this time it was with real friends. All of those people back home dropped me like I was coach seating as soon as the scandal hit.”
“Then I’m glad we all got up at the ass-crack of dawn as you called it this morning.” She yawns deeply, and I use it as my cue to leave. I love Madison, I do, but it stings to talk about my past. I know I’ll have to every once in a while, but it still hurts. I’m not sure that will ever change.
***
The next morning is a little weird. I go over to Ms. Matthews’s house to interview her some more, and Bryce answers the door. He looks at me with a blank expression. “You’re not my fiancée.”
“Totally not. But … good talk. Is your mom here?”
He raises a brow. “Why?”
“She’s helping me with something for school.” Jeez. What is this, thirty questions?
He moves a little and lets me in. “She’s in the back.”
“Thanks.” I start to head that way and notice he’s following me. “I’m not here to kill her or anything. You can quit following me. Besides, I’d think by now you’d cut me some slack for saving your butt yesterday.”
He laughs. “I think that only makes us even for that bullshit you tried pulling last year. But I’m not following you. I’m getting a juice then I’m heading out the door and over to your house. To see my beautiful fiancée.”
“You just like saying that word, huh?” I ask as we reach the kitchen.
“Damn straight. But between you and me, I love wife better.” He winks.
I leave him in the kitchen and head straight to the sitting room in the back of the house.
Karen is on the couch reading a magazine. She glances up at me as soon as the floor creaks under my foot. “Sarah, how can I help you?”
“I was, um … wondering if I can ask you some more questions.”
“Sure, hon.” She pat
s a seat next to her. “What would you like to ask?”
“Well, um … it’s kind of rude. But when did you know you had a problem? If you don’t mind me asking. I mean, people drink—at lunch, dinner, after work to unwind, and even at parties. It’s common. So how did you know that your, let’s call it socializing, was out of the norm?”
She sets the magazine down and leans back against a cushion on the couch. “Well, I had a feeling I was going beyond what was considered normal when I started finishing off whole bottles of wine by myself. But what really got me was the intervention with my son and the man I’m seeing.”
“So before that you considered your consumption amount normal?”
“I did. But I know differently now.”
I turn to her. “Why? I picked up one of those packets, and honestly a lot of people could answer yes to a lot of those questions and be seen as a person with a problem.”
“True. AA isn’t for everyone either. Some people need to be in rehab. Some people need more help than others. And some of those questions aren’t as clear as they could be. But trust me when I say this: a survey only guides you so much. You have to look deep within, and you’ll know. For some, it’s easy. Others, not so much. It takes much bigger things to happen for them to see it.”
I nod and scribble away in my notebook. “Thanks.”
“No problem. If you have more questions, let me know.”
“Will do. Thanks again.”
For the first time, I’m actually feeling really good about this paper.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Graham
Bryce and Maddy went back to Pittsburgh Sunday morning. Never thought I’d say this, but I’m missing them more now than before I left for college. Probably because school is no longer keeping me busy these days.
I cross another day off the calendar—my little countdown until I’m outta here. Even though that should have me excited, it doesn’t. What the hell is wrong with me?
I pick up my phone and call Sarah. I haven’t talked to her since we helped Bryce with his proposal-in-the-tree-house scheme. It’s not that I planned on avoiding her or anything, just been stupid busy with other items on my plate.
“Hi, Graham,” she says in a happy tone.
“Hey. How are you?”
“Fine.”
One-word answers are never a good thing. “Are you busy?”
“Kind of. What’s up?”
“I wanted to know if you wanted to go to dinner. If you’re busy, never mind.”
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
She pauses for a minute. “Well … okay. How long do you think you’ll be?”
“How’s an hour? I gotta get ready myself.”
“That’s fine. See you then.”
We hang up, and I lift my arm and take a whiff near my pit. Oh yeah. I need a shower. Body spray will not cover that up. Ladies, fair tip: if the dude you’re hanging with smells like he is drowning in cologne, it’s because he smelled pretty bad before and was too lazy to get a shower. I used to do it all the time after football and baseball practice. Do I regret it now? Eh. In some cases, it probably wasn’t the smartest move. Live and learn.
***
I step up to Sarah’s porch and ring the doorbell. Mrs. Issac greets me with a tight hug. “Graham, I haven’t seen you in ages. How have you been?”
“Good, Mrs. Issac. Is Sarah about ready?”
“Come on in. I’ll go check.” She motions for me to go to the living room. “Have a seat in there.”
I was in high school the last time I was in this house. The living room has gotten a remodel since then, I notice. Looks good.
Mrs. Issac returns. She watches me with an odd expression on her face. It’s not a scowl or a smile, it’s kind of caught in between the two. What makes it worse is she keeps clearing her throat like she’s about to say something, but it’s just silence between us.
“I’ve noticed you painted the living room. It looks good.”
She smiles. “We changed it this summer after Madison left for her summer program. Kyle and Sarah helped. Between you and me, I don’t think I was their favorite person that week. Kyle made the remark, ‘I want to know who was the genius behind this idea? Let’s leave the painting to two kids who have no interest in this shit. Right after the one child who loves to paint leaves. Smooth thinking.’ They might have hated it, but they did a really great job.”
I can only imagine Kyle grumbling while he tackled a wall with a brush. The guy is awesome at sports and cool to hang out with, but he’s not a let’s-go-build-some-shit kind of person. Maddy, on the other hand, loves projects. Always has. That’s why when we had group projects in high school that required showing models and stuff, I would always buy the materials and just watch her go to work. One time Bryce tried to help by gluing something, and she went crazy. Kicked us out of her kitchen and told us she’d call when it was all finished.
She did the same thing when it came to painting the walls in her own room. When Sarah arrived, Maddy’s room was all white. Sarah bought some pink paint to liven the place up, and I really thought Maddy was going to puke when she spotted the buckets of paint. So I offered to help because she’s my best friend. But as soon as I spread some paint on a brush she freaked out and shoved everyone out of the room. Sarah smiled and said, “Awesome. I get you all to myself.”
“Graham … ” Mrs. Issac says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Yeah.”
“I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I need you to promise me you won’t hurt her.”
I blink. “I didn’t last time. What makes you think I would this time?”
“Oh. I just … Never mind.”
“Tell me. Maddy said something similar during graduation, but she hasn’t brought it up since. Tell me, please.”
She frowns, and I swear it’s like staring at the future Madison. “She cried a lot. And maybe you weren’t the whole reason, but she’s been through a lot. These last few weeks, I’ve actually started to notice a change in her. A good kind.”
I nod. “I’m not going to hurt her, Mrs. Issac.”
“Good.”
Sarah comes bustling down the stairs just in time. She looks over at me then down at herself. She looks me up and down and then glances down at herself. “Um … I should go change real fast. I feel overdressed.”
I want to tell her hell no. She looks like a delectable dessert. I just want to devour her mouth and work my way down. At the same time, I want to say sure. Maybe it will give me some time to calm the raging hard-on she just gave me. “I think you look fine. But if you really want to change I can wait.”
She glances down at herself once more and shrugs. “Eh. I’m too hungry to go back up there and change into some jeans.”
I stand up and readjust myself while pretending to straighten out my shirt. I walk over to her and take her all in. God, she’s really gorgeous. Her hair is all pinned up and curled at the ends. Her blue eyes seem to sparkle like the ocean.
I don’t think I want dinner anymore. All I really want is her. Underneath me. Begging me to do wild and wicked things to her. Damn it. I better stop these thoughts. They’re not helping the already uncomfortable situation happening in my pants.
I lead her out to the car and open the door for her. Sarah smiles. “Thanks.”
I keep staring at her even though she’s already in my car.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothing.” I grin. “You look amazing.”
“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sarah
We arrive at DiGoronia’s, a little Italian restaurant two towns over. The smell of garlic butter wafts outside, practically drawing in anyone in a ten-mile radius. My mouth waters.
Graham’s hand slides to my lower back and stays there as we walk up to the fancy entrance. It doesn’t leave even as he opens the door for me, and I admit the whole thing makes me shive
r with delight. He’s the only guy who’s ever opened doors for me who wasn’t a valet. If I really think about it, he’s the only guy who’s actually held my hand in public.
I look up at him with a smile. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asks as we approach the hostess.
“I don’t know. Giving me a second chance, I guess.”
He nods. “Two please,” he says to the voluptuous blond.
She beams him a bright smile and picks up two menus from the stack behind her. “Follow me.” I can’t help but notice how much swish she has in her hips as she walks us toward a booth. I glance over at Graham, and his eyes are surprisingly on me, not the girl’s ass.
“Your server will be right with you,” she says to Graham and winks.
Again he doesn’t seem to notice, just nods, now staring at the leather menu in front of him. I almost laugh. She is seriously flirting with him hard-core and not giving a crap that I’m right here. She frowns a bit and walks off. That’s right, honey, keep walking.
“So what are you in the mood for?” he asks as his eyes meet mine.
“I don’t know. I can tell you that girl was in the mood for a piece of you.”
He raises a brow. “Are you jealous?”
I huff. “Please. Do I need to be?”
“You are jealous.” He laughs. “It’s actually kind of adorable. You crinkle your nose a bit, and your cheeks turn pink. But you don’t have to worry. I’m looking at what I want.”
“Yeah?” I ask with a smirk.
“Yup. So what are you thinking about getting? Spaghetti, Alfredo, the ravioli? I’m not really a fan of ravioli, but I hear it’s great here.”
I glance at the menu. “I think I want some fettuccine.”
“Good choice. I’m going to get the chicken parmesan.”
Graham (Scandalous Boys Book 2) Page 12