“Okay, I hear you,” Colt said. “From what I can tell about Abbi during class, she’s smart, and she’s a hard worker.” He glanced at me. “And she’s rebuffed every guy that’s asked her out.”
“How many guys are we talking about?” I asked.
“Pretty much all of ’em. Not often chemistry nerds have such a hot girl hanging around.”
I ground my teeth together.
“She’s got you tied up in knots,” Dad said. He kept an eye on Cassidy but smiled at me. “Your mother did the same thing to me. Damn, I was a mess.”
Didn’t last, though, did it, Dad?
“I asked a couple of questions about the girl, and you think I’m moving toward something serious.” I let some of my contempt seep into my voice. I couldn’t challenge Dad without hurting my mom, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t know I was angry.
He met my gaze, his troubled. This wasn’t the first time we’d gone a round or two since that day he’d cut out at the hospital, leaving my mom alone to deal with Cassie’s fading body. For all I knew, he thought I was holding a grudge about that. Maybe I would have if he hadn’t walked up to that woman in the hotel lobby.
“The way you asked the questions and the look in your eye when you heard about the competition . . . yeah, I think you’re serious, Clay.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “I don’t want to like her, but I do.”
“Then you’ll be glad to know I have extra tickets for you and your brother to come next week. If you’d like one.”
Cassidy pulled herself out of the pool and we all turned to look at her. Her short hair was slicked to her head. Her hipbones protruded sharply, and her arms were thin—too thin—but her eyes were bright and her smile was infectious as she climbed into the hot tub.
“That was fun. I’ve missed swimming.” She yawned.
Dad pulled her close, his eyes soft. “It’s good to see you playing again, kiddo. Just don’t overdo it.”
“No problem. So you’re talking about Abbi Dorsey? Briar mentioned her. She seems upset that Abbi wouldn’t put out a statement about those pictures.”
I started. Sure, my sister was in her teens, but she was so small. I wasn’t used to her being part of these types of conversations.
Dad nodded, his eyes taking on a thoughtful gleam. “Asher said the same thing. It’s obvious he cares about her. There’s gotta be more to that story than we know.”
Cassie yawned again. “The press are such jerks. ’Member the story they wrote about me?”
Dad kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad you’re here, Cassie-girl.”
But Cassidy wasn’t paying him any attention, she was looking at me. “You better be nice to her, Clay.”
I shifted on the bench. “I was nice to her.”
Cassidy snorted. “I bet you dismissed her like you do with anyone you don’t think is worth your time. I hate that brush-off thing.”
“I was nice, Cassidy.”
She glared at me. “See that you stay that way. I heard what Dad said about her being drugged, and I saw some of those pictures. She didn’t get a choice to be there.”
Hearing my baby sister state that made the entire situation Abbi had endured even more obscene. If Cassidy was drugged and photographed . . . I wouldn’t know what I would do. Had Abbi been assaulted without her consent? Without even her knowledge? My hands fisted.
“Abbi needs a friend. If you guys were her friends, she wouldn’t be so alone.” Cassidy’s eyes filled with tears. “That’s the worst part.”
I reached over and squeezed her fingers. “We’re friends, ladybug, but I’ll make sure I look after her. Like I do you.”
“Good,” she sighed. She pressed her cheek into Dad’s chest. In the next second, her soft snore rose over the roar of the bubbles.
“I didn’t know she still did that,” Colt said.
“She doesn’t usually. Not unless she’s really tired.” Dad stood up, cradling Cassidy in his arms.
“Oh, good. Just in time,” Dad said as Mom walked into the room, carrying a thick stack of beach towels. “Spread out a towel for her, will you, Maryanne?”
Mom hurried to do his bidding. The two of them fussed over Cassidy, making sure she was dry and bundled in towels.
“So, Abbi Dorsey,” Colt said.
“I helped her out last night. We got to talking. She’s different from what I expected.”
“Focused, smart and very, very wary?”
“Yeah. Man, you should have seen the way Charles and Neal were talking to her. It was disgusting.”
“I bet she liked you coming to her rescue,” he chuckled.
“She was shaking.” Both Colt and I frowned, his deepening when I said, “Reminded me of Cassie.”
“That’s why I asked you to keep an eye on her.” Colt’s eyes were serious. “I’ve overheard some conversation. Since there’s a nearly naked pic of her online, it’s like guys no longer see her as a person. Doesn’t matter that she’s not coherent in it. She’s nude and, thus, an object. I’ve yet to see a girl talk to her.”
I ran my hands through my hair. “That bad?” I asked.
Colt narrowed his eyes. “Worse. I like her, by the way.”
My shoulders tensed and I probably looked pissed because Colt shook his head, his lips curved up in a devilish grin.
“Not like that. I mean, she’s pretty and she’s smart, but she’s also at least six years younger than me. And I’ve got my own girl.”
“Good.”
“I’m worried about her.”
I hopped out of the hot tub and wrapped a towel around my waist, and Colt did the same. “Well, I promised Cassie I’d be her friend, and she’s hooked in with Jenna and Nessa now apparently. I’d watch out for her, but she shot me down. Ran away like a rabbit sprinting from a greyhound.”
Colt grinned. “Count me in for next week, Dad,” he yelled. “It’s going to be fun watching Clay lose his mind over this girl.”
“What girl?” Mom asked.
Colt laughed as he walked back toward the stairs.
10
Abbi
“What are you going to wear to the gala tomorrow night?” Mom asked.
I’d come home because I needed to get away from my growing attraction to Clay. Not that I’d seen him much this week, but Nessa and Jenna talked about him and the other guys in the band. That’s why I knew they had a show again tonight at a well-known bar. Pretty much a weekly occurrence from what I’d been able to discern.
I considered going for about three seconds but I just couldn’t see Clay. Each time his name was mentioned, my body warmed and my heart beat faster. I hated the reaction because I was powerless to stop it.
He’d stopped by before my first class last Tuesday to return my sunglasses. I’d forced myself to look him in the eye. Mortification swept through me as I did so. What if he could see how much I reacted to him?
“Hey, Abbi. Just wanted to return these.” He held out my sunglasses in his palm.
“Thank you.” I smiled, pleasure blooming in my chest. “I was worried they’d flown into the fountain. Nessa, Jenna, and I ran by there Saturday.”
“I heard you met Nes. She’s awesome.”
“We went for a run and had breakfast together. Both she and Jenna are really nice.”
I slid the aviators out of his hand, and Clay grinned. I cleared my throat, needing a second to get my focus back on our conversation.
“Asher gave them to me just before I left for Sydney. I hated to think I was so careless.” I pulled my lips into my mouth. I had to stop babbling.
“Not you. Me. I hit you pretty hard.”
“A spectacular sack,” I said, smiling. “How’s the bruised butt?”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Bruised,” he admitted. “Like my ego. Could use some TLC.”
I’d stepped back, fighting the building need to touch him. “Okay. Thanks again.” I raised the glasses, almost as if they could shield me from his
immense sexual pull. “See you around.”
The attention that short exchange had drawn was unreal. I’d pushed past at least fifteen people, all of whom wanted to know why rock god Clay Rippey had spoken to me. I’d hurried to class, head down and heart pounding.
Mom’s words pulled me back to the present, and I glanced over. She settled on my bed, just as she had since I was twelve—about six months before my dad died. It was part of our wind-down ritual. Whenever I was home, she came into my room for at least half an hour to talk over our days.
“Something I already have,” I said, shrugging. I couldn’t care less about how I looked. Maybe if I wore something really ugly, the media would ignore me.
“I can take you shopping for a new dress in the morning. It’d be fun.”
I fell back onto the pillow next to her. “Maybe I shouldn’t go tomorrow.”
“What? Why? Because Clay might be there?”
“I’m more worried about the media. I don’t want to date, Mom. I just want to be left alone.”
“Abbi.” Mom sighed, turning to face me on the bed. “I know you’re hurt, maybe even scared. And what that boy did, what all of them did, was so deeply wrong. But I don’t want to talk about them. I want to talk about you. How to make you happy.”
“Sally gave me a folder. It’s full of people who hate me,” I said, my voice quiet.
Mom sat up, her eyes searching my face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I just found out the details. Well, I got it from her last week. I asked her not to tell you yet. You can’t be mad at Rhonda and Ralph. This is all on Sally.” I pulled out the folder—minus the pictures, which were now stowed away in another safe place—and glanced at it. Finally, I handed it over. “She admitted to suggesting Steve take the pictures to get back at me.”
“For?”
I shrugged. “Everything.”
“That’s not much of an answer, Abbi.”
“For being a better runner and cheerleader.”
“Because of Asher,” Mom’s voice was quiet.
“That was one of her reasons. But it’s ridiculous. He can’t help being famous. You know I love Asher.”
Mom looked down at her folded hands. “I’m so sorry my relationship has hurt you.”
I sat next to her, put my arm around her. “Oh, no, Mom. No. It didn’t. You didn’t. If Sally’s like that . . . well, she’s not a true friend.”
Mom took my hand and squeezed my fingers. “Did she have anything to do with those pictures, Abbi? I mean, did she help set them up? Put the drugs in your drink?”
“She says no. Just suggested it to Steve as a way he could make money off of me. To pay off his debt to the concert venue.” I picked at my cuticle. “I think that’s probably true.”
“You didn’t tell me you talked to Sally,” Mom said.
“I didn’t plan on it, but she was insistent. I went down to Portland last Saturday. With Jenna. Sally wanted me to forgive her.”
“And will you?”
“I don’t know. She went way too far.”
“She did.” Mom paused. “I’m struggling with her part in this, but at least she’s given you some help to start an investigation. Asher and I’d like to do that. For you.”
“I don’t know. What if it’s worse? Getting Sally in trouble—hashing it all out again.” I swallowed hard, thinking about those pictures. My stomach rolled, and I took a slow, steadying breath.
“What do you want then?” Mom said, nodding to the folder.
I walked to the window, hugging my elbows. “Honestly? I just want it to go away. But . . . this girl at school—her name is Bethany—she’s part of that hate-Abbi club. She seems to know about other pictures. They’re worse, I guess.” I knew they were, but I couldn’t stand telling my mother that. “She said she’d leak them if I hung out with Clay.”
Mom wrapped her arm around my waist and leaned her head against mine. For a long moment, we stayed like that, me hurting and confused, my mom doing her best to soak all the negativity up and away from me.
“I won’t tell you how to live your life, Abigail,” she said, her voice muffled with suppressed tears. “But consider talking to Briar. She spent years investigating cases not that different from this one, making sure the bad guys were exposed.”
I winced at the word. “It’s not that bad, really. I mean, it’s just some pictures taken too far.” I looked down at my hands, hating the lie.
“Abigail, if there’s more you need to tell me, I’m here. Your family will help you. All of us. Any way we can.”
“I know that. I just . . .” I blew out a breath. “I need a chance to figure this out. What I want. Who I am now.” What those pictures I didn’t want to share intimated Steve and his friends had done to me, taken from me.
Mom settled back on the bed. “I won’t push more about it.”
“But?”
“You’re young. You need to go out, have fun. Live.”
I ran my finger on the edge of one of the throw pillows. “It’s not just what Steve did. Everyone at Tech believed his representation of me.” I struggled to swallow. Keeping secrets from my mother was hard. Harder because this one was eating at me. “They all wanted to believe that about me.”
Mom’s fingers wrapped around my hand, stilling my tugging. “Which we both know isn’t true. So does the rest of your family and anyone who actually knows you. People say mean things, do cruel things. You can’t let them win. Sally and Steve—this girl, Bethany—they want your happiness. Right now, they own it. Don’t let them keep it.”
“I don’t want to feed the rumor mill. It’s so hurtful, Mom. I don’t have anything to fall back on talent-wise, even academic-wise. Each of their words rip me to shreds.”
“You can’t avoid that. You’re lovely and related to famous, rich people. Others, even people you care about like Sally, are going to get jealous and act stupid. The best thing you can do is live your life and say a big ‘fuck you’ to the haters.”
I giggled. My mom wasn’t much for cursing, and vulgarity from her always sounded funny. Mom propped herself against the headboard. “Remember when I teased you about the pill?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Like I’d forget.”
“Well, I think you should consider it.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I really don’t want to talk to you about this.”
“Since you’ve become a hermit without a friend your own age, you don’t have anyone else to talk to, honey. Whether you choose to see Clay or not, there will be other men you’re going to want to date. And sex, the right kind, is about building a connection. Deepening a relationship. You need that in your life.”
“Says the romance writer.”
Mom smiled. “Exactly. I’m an expert.”
I chewed on my lip, considering how much to tell her. Mom and I had always been close, but her marriage to Asher had changed our relationship. Not her, she was still an amazing woman, a fabulous listener. But as the situation at Tech got worse, I’d closed off.
“This is so not the way I thought our conversation would go. Aren’t you supposed to ask about my classes, what I plan to do this weekend?”
“You’re getting straight A’s and you’re going to the charity event with us tomorrow. Sunday, you’ll go back to your dorm where you’ll hole up, studying until your classes on Monday. You need a social life, Abigail. This is killing you slowly, and I hate it.”
“I have Jenna and Nessa. They drag me out.”
“To run and get a bite to eat, which is good. But you were born to interact with others. You crave social situations, as much as I panic at the mere thought of them.”
“I don’t like the comments, the looks.”
“The best thing you can do to make the speculation go away once and for all is to be seen with a man. Let the rumor mill make up all kinds of ridiculous stories about your affair. Clay seems like a great candidate. From what Asher’s said, hi
s dad’s a nice man. Briar likes Clay’s mom. You like Clay. Total win.”
She paused, letting her argument sink in. “And think how great it’ll feel to know your horrible excuse for an ex-boyfriend is reading about your hot new boyfriend.”
I giggled again. “That’s not exactly right.”
“Give me my fantasy, please.”
“I didn’t know you had it in you, Mom.”
Mom smiled, her gray eyes alight with mischief, but the corner of her mouth held sadness as she smoothed my hair back.
“I’ve lived through enough now to know when to pick my battles. I think your happiness is a battle worth winning.”
11
Clay
Suits weren’t comfortable. While I was glad Mom kept some nice clothes for us here at their house, I detested the ties she picked out. I wasn’t a power-tie kind of dude. Correction, I wasn’t a formal attire dude. I scowled at the knot I couldn’t get right.
“Clay!” Dad yelled. “We need to go. Now.”
I grabbed my wallet, shoving it and my phone into my pockets. Snagging the cufflinks Cassidy gave me for Christmas last year, I stuffed them into the buttonholes as I headed down the stairs.
“I’m ready.”
“Looking good, handsome,” Cassidy said. “It’s the cufflinks. They tie everything together.”
“You know it. Thanks for buying them for me.”
I grinned, barely resisting the urge to ruffle her hair. Not that it was long enough to mess up, but I knew the gesture would offend her grown-up sensibilities.
Cassidy twirled, showing off her chiffon dress. “What do you think?”
“Oh, we’re trading compliments?”
“You’re so mean.”
Cassidy stomped toward the front door. I intercepted her. My heart twisted at the tears in her eyes.
“You look pretty, ladybug. Really pretty. I’m so glad you’re my date.”
Colt shoved me out of the way. “Get your own date. I’m taking Cassidy. We’ve got dancing plans.”
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