“Yes. Well, walking around the room bare-breasted makes my boobs kind of jostle. Sometimes I have to hold them steady.”
“Hold them?” This time his voice cracked like a teenager’s.
“Yes, I like to cup them. Squeeze the nipples between my fingers. But they’re too big for my hands, really. They kind of spill over, you know?”
He closed his eyes, the image of Cassie walking bare-breasted around the room filling his imagination. There she was, in baggy old cotton shorts and nothing else, strutting in slow-motion, a wet dream come to life, her long hair flowing over her shoulders, her lips parted in a come-hither smile, her pretty blue eyes somehow both sparkling and sultry.
His climax exploded, hot liquid pumping into his hand. The orgasm started at the base of his spine and gripped his body in a hard fist of ecstasy. Eyes closed, he soaked in his mental image of topless Cassie. Miraculously, she became naked Cassie halfway through the orgasm, and somehow he even wound up inside her, at least mentally. Instead of his own hand, he was releasing his essence into her, pounding his cock right up to the hilt, burying himself deep within her.
It was the best air-based sex he’d ever had.
When he finished, he realized that his phone had slipped away from his shoulder and was half-buried in the couch cushions. He dug it out and put it back to his ear. On the other end, Cassie was laughing her ass off.
“Oh my God. Was that as good for you as it sounded?”
“You have no idea.”
“Uh, think again, mister. I heard you. You got me all hot and bothered too. I think I might get back in the shower now. Want to shower with me, long-distance?”
“Contemporaneous showers? I like it. The only downside is we’ll have to hang up.”
“Yeah, we’ll have to do our post-orgasm cuddling virtually. That’s okay, I’m not much of a cuddler anyway.”
He sat up, then swung his legs over the side of the couch and headed for the bathroom. “Well I hate to burst your bubble, but I’m a champion cuddler. So don’t write it off until you’ve done it with the best.”
She laughed, and he realized that throaty sparkling shower of delight might be his favorite sound in all creation. “You’re boasting about your skill at cuddling?”
“Yes, it’s second only to my skill at the stuff that comes before cuddling.”
“Oh ho. I see how it is. You realize that a claim like that has to be put to the test?”
“I am ready for that challenge.” He pushed open the door to the bathroom and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. All bedhead and sex-flushed. Apparently air-based sex was nothing to scoff at.
“On land,” she said firmly. “That’s the only place cuddling works properly.”
Good point. Well, now he’d painted himself into a corner. And not one bit of him regretted it.
Oops.
17
After that sexy phone conversation, Cassie felt as if she were holding her breath, waiting for the next shoe to drop. Ben took the week off, which meant Kevin filled in for him in the cockpit instead of working in the hangar with her.
She missed him. And yet she was relieved. And yet she couldn’t wait to see him again. Or hear his voice on the phone. Or…gah.
Everything was so strange and confusing these days—her mother in seclusion, her feelings for Kevin up in the air, the news about Matthew Dearborn’s stalking. She needed a distraction.
That was why she found herself in a booth at the Orbit Grill and Lounge, surveying the black-painted ceiling with its glow-in-the-dark stars and the disco balls that added that extra special touch of cheesy to the ambiance.
Lisa Peretti and the others hadn’t arrived yet, so Cassie ordered a Melon Ball and absent-mindedly arranged salted peanuts in a big K while she waited for her drink to arrive.
“Cassie?”
Looking up, her heart sank at the sight of Deirdre Sullivan. Did she have to run into her literally everywhere?
“Hi. How are you?” She smiled politely and turned back to her peanuts, messing up the K before Deirdre could get suspicious.
“Funny you should ask.” Her old nemesis dropped into the booth across from her. “Terrible.”
“Oh.” Crap. What now? She looked around desperately. That question had been intended as a formality, not a literal expression of concern. Why should she care how her former tormenter was doing? She didn’t. “Sorry to hear that.”
“Sure you are.”
Her gaze flew to meet Deirdre’s, where she spotted wry awareness—along with the bloodshot remnants of a crying jag. “Well…”
“It’s okay. I know we have history. Obviously. I guess I’d hoped you’d forgotten what a bitch I used to be. No such luck, huh?”
“Well…” she said again. It was such a useful word, “well.”
“You probably can’t ever forgive me, can you? Even if I show you how great those photos came out?” She dug in her purse and came out with a page proof for a brochure. The heading read, “Follow Your Heart to Jupiter Point.” The photo showed Cassie and Kevin silhouetted against the sun, gazing into each other’s eyes, laughing.
They looked…perfect together.
It was a good thing Deirdre hadn’t been around with her camera the other night at the little cove, Cassie thought as she stared at the chemistry that seemed to leap off the page. That would be a whole different advertisement.
“You’re a good photographer,” she said, almost reluctantly. It went against the grain to say anything positive to Deirdre. But facts were facts.
“Thanks, but I’m not the one who deserves the credit for this. Do you want this copy?”
“Really? Doesn’t the magazine need it? Or the Chamber of Commerce, whatever?”
“No, it’s my copy. Here, take it. It’s the least I can do.” She sniffled, then made a show of closing her bag and getting ready to leave.
Cassie hesitated. She didn’t want to spend any more time than she had to with Deirdre. On the other hand, years had passed, and the woman sitting across from her was clearly upset about something. “Do you want to sit for a minute?” she finally offered. “I’m waiting for some friends, but I’m on my own until they show up.”
There, that gave her a hard out. As soon as Lisa and the others arrived, she’d be rescued.
In the next second, her phone beeped. It was Lisa, breaking the news that an emergency had delayed her, and they’d decided to meet in an hour instead.
An hour.
With her nemesis.
Cassie was going to need a lot more than the Melon Ball that the waiter was currently setting on the table in front of her.
Deirdre’s face lit with gratitude. “That would be great. Hey, do you want a shot? I could really use a little somethin’ extra. It’s been one of those days.”
“You read my mind.”
Deirdre ordered two shots of tequila. As soon as the waiter had left, she took out a small pocket mirror and checked her reflection. “God, look at this mess.”
“It’s not so bad.” Cassie wasn’t sure why she felt the need to reassure her.
“Says the naturally beautiful one.”
“Excuse me?”
“You were always like one of those ads for flip-flops or something, or those friendship bracelets from Peru. Like you just rolled out of a hammock after surfing and barely got your hair into a ponytail before showing up late for school.”
Cassie took a giant sip from her Melon Ball, barely tasting the green liquor sliding down her throat. “I was always late for school because I lived outside of town and my rides were unreliable. I wasn’t even supposed to go to Jupiter Point High, but my dad thought the regional school was too rough. He had no clue.”
Deirdre winced at that little jab. “Well, you pulled it off. I used to set my alarm an hour early to get the right look for school. The stress was insane.”
Were they really going to talk about high school as if they hadn’t been sworn enemies? Cassie downed the rest of her Melon Ball. “True sto
ry, once I stole your lip gloss so I could see what shade you used. It always looked so perfect.”
“Tangerine Popsicle,” Deirdre said nostalgically. “If only I’d known that the entire rest of my life would be downhill from there.”
The shots arrived, set down by the waiter along with a dish of cut limes. Deirdre pushed one over to Cassie, then lifted hers in a toast. “Here’s to you, Cassie. I’m sorry we weren’t friends back then. Sorry for a lot of things.” She tossed back the tequila.
“Yeah well, it would have helped if you hadn’t told everyone I gave Travis Drake a blow job behind the table saw in wood shop. After you told people I might be gay.”
Deirdre choked on her tequila, then covered her mouth with a napkin. “I was such a bitch. I have no excuse. I was jealous, I was mean, I was nasty, I was just a raging asshole.”
“Wow. Okay then.” Cassie frowned at her. “I always figured you had some kind of reason for being so mean, like your parents didn’t love you, or they put too much pressure on you, or whatever. I looked up bullying online. It said bullies usually have low self-esteem and are psychologically weak. I took a lot of comfort in that.”
Deirdre squirted a lime into her shot glass and tossed that back. “I’m glad. But you don’t have to find excuses for me. I was a bitch because I was afraid. It was pretty simple. Attack first and keep attacking, that was my motto.”
“Afraid of what? You couldn’t have been afraid of me. I was no threat to anyone.”
“No, I wasn’t afraid of you. I wasn’t even really aware of other people. I know it seems strange to say, because I always had people around me.”
“You did. People loved you. Being around you was a nonstop party.”
“Because I didn’t care. The more the merrier. It was all about distraction.”
The waiter arrived with more shots, and Cassie realized that Deirdre must have ordered another round without her noticing. She still hadn’t finished her first tequila. There was no way she could keep up with this woman. “Distraction?”
Deirdre gestured at her shot. “You really want to hear this story? If you do, you’re going to need alcohol.”
Cassie stared at her, wondering for a queasy moment if she really did want to hear. Wouldn’t it be easier to hang on to her picture of Deirdre the Villain? The Evil Queen of Jupiter Point High?
Her curiosity won out and she tossed back the shot. “Okay, hit me with that truth bomb.”
Deirdre gave a grim chuckle and tucked a lock of glossy brown hair behind her ear. “First of all, let me tell you that I’m in perfect health.”
“Okaaaay.”
“But there was only a twenty-five percent chance that would be true.”
Cassie squinted at her, the tequila giving everything a fuzzy edge. “Come again?”
“When I was sixteen, my parents clued me in to a family secret. There’s this genetic disorder on my mother’s side that skips a generation. My grandmother died from it before I was born. They never even meant to conceive me, and Mom was on birth control to prevent it. So when she skipped a few periods, she figured it was a side-effect of her birth control. They intended to adopt. In fact, my sister and brother are both adopted. So I was the only one with a chance of inheriting this lovely condition.”
“Which you don’t have.”
“Which I don’t have. But which is godawful. The first thing that happens is you lose your sight. Then you lose your hearing. You lose control over your limbs. You become a prisoner in your body, but the basics still work. Heart, lungs, digestive system. So you could live for a while like that.”
“Oh my God.” Cassie reached for the second shot, which Deirdre pushed toward her with a wry smile. “That’s one of the worst things I’ve ever heard. So you were sixteen when they told you about it?”
“Yes. I got an eye infection and they freaked out, thinking maybe it was starting. So they sat me down and dropped this bombshell on me. They offered me the choice of whether or not to get the test, to see if I have the gene.”
“Shit.” That heartfelt word was all Cassie could manage.
“Right? I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted to live my life. I decided to get tested, but then I chickened out. Really, I just couldn’t handle it. I lost my mind a bit, got really dark. I was furious with the whole world. I refused to talk to a therapist, I didn’t tell any of my friends, I just got…horrible. I wanted people around me all the time, but I also wanted everyone else to suffer too.”
“That’s just awful, Deirdre. If I’d known—”
“No one knew,” she said flatly. “Only my parents, and I hid everything else from them because I was so pissed. I blamed them. I don’t even know what for, exactly. I would just go around and around in my head, like they should have just aborted me, but if they had I wouldn’t even be alive, obviously. Or they should have told me earlier, or never told me, just let whatever happens happen. I was completely crazed.”
How could such a horrible thing have been taking place right under her nose? Lately she was feeling so clueless. “So that’s when you made my life hell?”
“Yup. I’m really sorry. You weren’t the only one I tortured. Just one of many. And the worst part was, it didn’t make anything better. It turns out that making other people miserable doesn’t actually make you happier. It doesn’t make your problems go away.” She managed a wry smile, then selected a peanut from the bowl. “Go figure.”
Cassie pushed the bowl closer to her. “Here, have all the peanuts you want. I think you’ve earned a lifetime supply. Seriously, if I’d had any idea—”
“Why would you? Anyway, it’s no excuse. I had plenty of places to turn and people who could have helped me. I chose my path, and it was an ugly one. Now I’m choosing a different one, or at least trying to. Part of that is taking responsibility for how I acted. That’s why I was hoping to have lunch.”
“Kind of a twelve-step program thing? Making amends?”
“Sort of. I’m not sure there’s a twelve-step program for being a teenage asshole, but close enough. So just to make it official, I apologize for—”
“Hey. No. No more apologies. Not after what you just told me. Jesus.” She downed half of her second shot of tequila and savored the fiery burn. “But you said you’re okay, right? When did you find out?”
“When I had a pregnancy scare senior year.”
Cassie nearly choked on the last bit of tequila still in her throat. “Holy shit.”
“Yup. I was a mess. It was the hardest fucking day of my life. I realized that I couldn’t just ignore it forever. So when I went in for the pregnancy test, I asked them to do the genetic test as well. It was negative.”
“So…big relief, right?”
“It was, of course. Also a real eye-opener. I looked around and realized that I’d been a total shit for the past two years for no reason. I’d hurt so many people, including my family. I think my sister still kind of hates me. I don’t blame her.”
“Well, if it’s any comfort, I don’t hate you.” Cassie clicked her shot glass against Deirdre’s. “I know it probably doesn’t mean much, since we weren’t really friends even before the whole blow job thing.”
The other woman winced. “Definitely not one of my finer moments. When I think about all the things I did, I’m just so embarrassed.”
They both drank the rest of their tequila. Cassie gasped as she set her glass back down. “Okay, that’s enough tequila for me. Be right back.” She got to her feet and went in search of a glass of water. Also, she needed a minute away from Deirdre.
What an awful thing to go through, much worse than anything Cassie had experienced. And then, to add to her burden, she was obviously still struggling with her guilty conscience. She didn’t get the impression that Deirdre had forgiven herself. Surely there had to be something Deirdre could do to make up for the past.
At the bar, she asked for two glasses of water, then carried them back to the table. At
some point, Lisa and the others would arrive, and the opportunity for private conversation would be gone. An idea was forming—Deirdre might hate it, but there was only one way to find out.
She set the glasses on the table, then slid back onto the black vinyl-covered booth. Deirdre was in the midst of firing off a text to someone. “Sorry,” she murmured. “My boyfriend’s being an ass. He’s about to be an ex-boyfriend, as a matter of fact.”
“Anything you want to share?” she asked cautiously. Whatever it was, it probably explained Deirdre’s bloodshot eyes.
“No, I think I’ve dumped enough on you.” Deirdre finished her text and dropped her phone back into her purse. “If we get into boy talk, we’ll be here forever. And I should get going. Your friends will probably be here soon.”
Cassie looked at her phone, amazed to realize an hour had nearly passed. Pretty important hour, really. Her eyes had been opened in a way she’d never expected. “Thank you for telling me all that, Deirdre. Really. It means a lot to hear what was really going on. Before you go, I had an idea I wanted to run by you. It’s still sketchy, and I have no idea if you’ll like it.”
Deirdre cocked her head curiously. “Intriguing. This isn’t about the brochure, is it?”
“No. It’s about us.” She grinned at the mystified expression on the other woman’s face. “We have a lot in common, if you think about it. We both work in male-dominated professions. Mechanic, electrician. Then there’s our shared past. Bullying. Misery. Etcetera. What if we did some kind of joint presentation at the high school? We could talk about…well, bullying. From our different perspectives.”
“You mean, the bully-er and the bull-ee?”
“Well…” She had to laugh at how ridiculous that sounded. “I guess so. But then we’d also talk about what was happening under the surface. How things are never what you think. And we can also do a whole thing about women in male-dominated professions. One of my pet peeves is that girls don’t learn how to change the oil in their cars. Basic car literacy. You could talk about changing fuses or something. Circuit breakers.”
Deirdre moved her empty shot glass around in a circle. “You’d do that with me?”
Too Hot to Handle Page 14