by Cecy Robson
He considers me and chuckles. “That you could’ve had any guy you wanted. You just never took any of us up on our offers.”
The whistle falls away from my hand, smacking me in the chest. “What are you talking about?”
“Me, Sean, Mason―hell, anyone of the boys you grew up with. Not a single one of us hasn’t crushed on you at least one time since we’ve known you.”
My mouth is so wide open, it’s a wonder a bee hasn’t flown in. “What? Wait. You liked me? As in liked me?”
Hale just laughs. “Like I said, me along with many others.”
I think he’s blowing smoke, because none of what he’s saying makes sense. “If that’s true, how come none of you ever acted on it?”
“We all did. Every last one of us,” he says. “Remember that time Sean took you to your first keg party?”
This time, I’m the one laughing. “Oh, you mean the one in that field? The one where the cops showed up and we had to climb that tree and hide—the one where he was so wasted he threw up in my hair when we were trying to find our way back to your car? You’re right. I should have realized that boy wanted me bad.”
Hale cracks up. “I forgot about that part, seeing how Mason and Becca were dragging my ass following my first beer bong. But yeah. To this day Sean considers it your first date.”
“Are you serious?” I ask, throwing back my head and laughing.
“And don’t forget Mason. When you and he went to Becca’s sweet sixteen together. He really like you. Talked about you all the time.”
I take a sip of my water as the breeze dies down. “If that’s so, how come I caught him making out with Becca’s cousin at the same party? I even ended up driving the two of them home so they could finish making out in the back seat.”
He smirks. “Because along with being smart, funny, and pretty, one of your super powers includes the ability to kill a boner in a single bound.”
I gasp. “Mind explaining yourself, sir?”
“Sean threw up on you that night because he drank himself stupid, all upset because his folks were splitting up. You told him not to worry. That he was your dear friend and always would be. Trin, just so you know, no horny teen hot for a girl, wants her to call him a ‘dear friend’. ‘Dear friends’ don’t get to feel up the girl they’re hot for much less get laid.”
“He was upset,” I remind him. “I was trying to make him feel better.”
“Like you were trying to make Mason feel better?” he asks, smiling. “He liked you, and you shoved him into another girl’s arms.”
“Only because Becca’s cousin couldn’t pry her eyes off him,” I point out. “He should have said something.”
“What did you expect him to say, Trin? You took his hand, brought him over to her so they could dance together. Which is why he ended up kissing her at the end of the night, and not you.”
I’ll admit, as flattered as I am, this conversation is also freaking me out. I never knew any of this. Never. “I thought he liked her.”
“He did,” Hale admits. “But he liked you more. Just like I did.”
I don’t think he can see my stare soften, not with how dark my sunglasses are. If he could, he’d sense my heart, and how it warms then. He, Mason, and Sean. What can I say? They’ve always been my family.
“Remember how we went to prom together?”
“Of course I do,” I answer, quietly.
“Remember how we danced all night, laughed, raised hell, had a good time?” Again I nod. “I’m thinking it looks good for me, and that I’m finally going to get to kiss you—and hey, it’s prom night, so maybe a little more than that.”
I gasp. “Hale!”
He keeps his grin despite my dumbfounded response. “But then what do you do the moment we get back in the limo? You throw your arms around me and tell me that you love me like a brother. Now, nothing kills a boner like hearing that girl you adore thinks of you as her brother.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, barely able to speak. “I honestly never knew.”
“It’s because you never gave yourself enough credit. You’re a great girl, Trin. I’m proud to know you and call you my friend.” He angles his chin. “Now, don’t go lookin’ like your favorite episode of Teen Wolf got deleted. It wasn’t love―not that kind anyway. Besides, I realized long ago it was for the best. The group of us―with all the shit I’ve been through with my family?—I don’t know how I would have survived without your friendship. I could have ruined it with that kiss.” He thinks about it. “Or if I’d taken your panties off like I’d planned.”
We both laugh because we can and because we’re just that close. The best part is that when we quiet, I hold onto my smile and so does he. “Thanks, Hale.”
He slings his arm around me and kisses the top of my head. “Always, sugar,” he says.
I lean into him. Maybe Hale and I could have been great given we were always great friends. But I can’t imagine feeling what I feel for Callahan with anyone else. And like Hale said, it may have interfered with our friendship, or God forbid, ruined it. Then where would I be without my boys?
In looking back, it was hard spending all those nights being the odd duck out. Being the one without someone to cuddle and kiss. But as I adjust my position against my friend, I would have relived those lonely nights a thousand times over, knowing that even though I didn’t have a date, I was still loved. Just like I loved them in return.
“What about Becca?” I ask him after a moment.
“That girl’s always looked good in dem jeans.”
“You know what I mean,” I tell him softly.
He lets out a harsh breath. “There’s almost no point. Becca’s going to marry another silver spoon with plenty of money and a lot more attitude.”
The words I have to say I choose carefully despite how I would love these two to fall hard for each other and never look back. Becca’s my friend. But for as long can remember, her family’s always had a plan for her. And despite that she’s never agreed with that plan, Hale’s not too far off with his prediction. “Your family comes from money, too,” I remind him.
“Not like hers,” he says. “Hers has a shit ton and the pedigree to go with it. Like too many folks around here, they think me and mine are nothing more than a bunch of mongrels who got lucky.”
I run my gaze over where the kids continue to splash and do a quick count as I speak. “Well, then they don’t know what they’re missing. You’re a good person, Hale. One of the best I know, and someone who deserves that equal best in his life. Anyone would be lucky to count you as part of their family.”
“Doesn’t matter as far as her family’s concerned.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Did she tell you we finally went out the other week?”
“She did. She said she had a nice time,” I say, more than putting it mildly.
His finger taps against my skin. “Did she tell you she had to meet me at the restaurant?”
Yes. Making it clear her daddy didn’t want Hale near his land or his daughter. I wish I could tell him that Becca called me after she left him, crying about what could have and would’ve been with him. I want him to know that she finally admitted what he means to her, and how she regrets denying her feelings and keeping him at a friendly distance. But I can’t. I won’t hurt either of them this way. That doesn’t mean I don’t pray that somehow, they’ll find their way to each other.
He gives my shoulder another squeeze. “I don’t have a shot in hell with Becca, no matter how bad I want to. But, Trin, you have something special with Callahan—something not every person is blessed to find. Don’t ruin it by not coming clean with him. As good as he is to you, you owe him that same respect back.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Callahan
The front door opens. “Batman?”
I laugh as easy as that, because Trin makes it easy. “In here,” I call.
I dip my paintbrush into the open can of light blue paint she talked me into buying. “Carol
ina Sky Blue” it’s called. Although I’d planned to paint this room white, the color’s not as bad as I thought. I look up in time to see her step onto the paint tarp wearing a grin and nothing else.
Holy shit.
She strolls around leisurely, examining my work while allowing me to take a very long and much appreciated glance at that body I can’t stop touching.
“Hmm. looks good.” She smiles playfully over her shoulder. “See, not so bad is it?”
Considering everything down south is harder than a steel rod, it’s not so bad at all.
“What are you doing?” I say, because I know she’s dying for me to ask.
She shrugs innocently and wanders over with enough skip in her step to flick her ponytail and bounce her breasts. “I didn’t want to get paint all over my clothes.” She offers me a brief kiss, her fingers trailing down my shirt. “You don’t mind me naked, do you?” Her hands go further down, outlining my now painful erection. “No,” she purrs. “You don’t mind at all.”
She falls to her knees, pulling the waistband of my old board shorts with her, and me right into her mouth. I drop my brush with a grunt while my other hand slaps the wall I just painted. Like so many times before, my hips begin to pump as she lures me further in. I watch her take me, swearing when I sense the back of her throat.
My hand curls around her head. I don’t think about everything still left to do before I call it a day, or how my clothes are coated with paint. I only think about how good she’s working me and how she digs her short nails into my hips to keep me going.
My vision fogs as I’m overcome with lust, my groin clenching and those familiar spasms overtaking me.
“I’m going to come,” I warn between hard draws of air. I curse again when she increases her speed and goes deeper. “Baby . . .”
It’s all I manage cause in truth I don’t want her to stop, I want her to finish me this way.
And she does.
My legs shake and my body coils forward. I release her, splaying my fingers against the wall to keep me steady. Sweat trickles down my back. I groan loud enough for anyone passing to hear. But I don’t care, and neither does she.
She doesn’t stop, taking everything and keeping her pace long after I’m done. “Trin,” I gasp. “Fuck, baby.”
She moans around me, appearing to smile as she continues. In looking at her, she appears satisfied, but I know she’s not. At least not yet.
I’m already hard again, and this time, it’s my turn to please her.
I pop out of her mouth and wrench her upward, spinning her so she’s facing the wall. My teeth trail along the soft curve of her neck. “Open your legs for me,” I whisper against her ear.
With a small sigh and a shudder she complies, knowing what’s coming. I reach around her belly and slide the fingers of my clean hand down. Her breath hitches when I find that spot. She’s already slick, but that’s not good enough. I want her begging me for it. So I begin my massage, slowly at first, increasing my flicks and passes until she’s shaking with need and rubbing against me.
I tug on her ear with my teeth and pass my other hand along her breasts, pinching and pulling her nipples, making her whimper with need. “I’m going to make you feel good,” I promise, slipping two fingers inside.
Her head flies back and strikes against my shoulder. “Callahan,” she says, smacking her hands against the walls.
My fingers quicken their pace, working to incite her. She clenches her knees together, spasming hard. One orgasm down, then another, until she’s grinding against me, pleading with me to push inside her.
I ease my way in, trying to be gentle. But once I’m in all the way, I can’t hold back. I clasp her hips, pumping hard, my swears and grunts drowning out hers.
It feels like heaven when I’m inside her, gripped by her possessive hold, surrounded by her heat and want. It’s only because it’s our second time that I last as long as I do. I slow my thrusts, my chest trickling with sweat when I finish once more.
Trin’s body trembles as I press a kiss on her shoulder, and another one behind her ear, wishing I never had to let her go.
“I’m going to pull out? All right?” I ask as her quivers subside and her body begins to cool.
She nods, her head dipped low as if too heavy. My arms wrap around her waist, catching her when we separate. I’m worried I hurt her until she laughs.
“Hmm,” she says. “Maybe I should walk in naked all the time.”
“Maybe you should,” I say. “You won’t hear me complain.”
I don’t release her until I’m sure she won’t fall. As I step back to look at this beautiful thing I call mine, my heart aches a little. As easily as she draws my grin, my laugh, my passion, sometimes it hurts so damn bad to look at her. But I don’t tell her. She won’t understand that this is the best kind of pain I’ve ever felt.
She turns around, smiling as she extends her arms. Splotches of light blue cover her breasts, stomach, and left hip. “See?” she says. “If I hadn’t gotten naked, all this paint would be splattered on my cute clothes.
She struts to me, smiling as I gather her in my arms. She tilts her head when she realizes I’m not smiling back.
“Why?” I ask her.
She knows I’m no longer talking about the paint or anything we did.
“Why what, hon?”
I take in her face and how easily our bodies conform against each other. “Why did I have to wait so long for God to bring you into my life?”
Her brown eyes brim with tears. I cup her cheek, stroking the first tear that trickles down her face. “I love you, Trinity,” I tell her, because it’s true, and I’ve already waited long enough.
She covers her mouth, trying to stifle a cry before throwing her arms around me.
These are good tears I tell myself as I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek. She’s the one who’s been missing, the perfect person to come in my life and save me.
So I let her cry, and I hold her close, keeping her warm as the air conditioning unit blasts cold air and the sunlight crawls along the room.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Callahan
Labor Day comes too soon for Trin and her friends, and maybe too soon for me, too. Tonight we’re all gathered outside my house around the fire pit I put together from the flat stones Trin and I gathered around the island. I’m holding her as she and I lay across the lounge chair. This time when Sean picks up my guitar, there’s no laughter, no jokes, only quiet, a rare occurrence around this tight crew.
Mason’s leaving in the morning for D.C.. Unlike the others who are headed straight into the work force, he’s starting law school at Georgetown. There’s no doubt in my mind, he’ll do well in life. Trin’s friends, or should I say, “our” friends will all do well. They work hard, and ball-busting aside, they have good hearts.
Sean’s leaving later this month for a pharmaceutical job he has lined up in Philly. Hale’s supposed to drop him off on the way to New York where he’s secured a job in as a financial advisor on Wall Street.
Trin hasn’t interviewed for any teaching jobs, despite that school’s already started. I don’t ask, and I definitely won’t push, knowing once she starts, I won’t see her as frequently. Besides, she’ll have no problem finding work once she decides it’s time.
I have the feeling she’s waiting for Becca to leave and start that public relations job in Charlotte. Becca will be the last to pack up and go. I thought her leaving would be the hardest on Trin. But seeing how quiet she is, saying goodbye to Mason won’t be that much easier.
Sean lowers his head, his long arms swung over the guitar, but not really holding it like someone who enjoys playing as much as he does. With a sigh, he lifts his head and forces a smile. “Last song. What’ll it be?”
Mason chuckles when we all turn his way. He doesn’t look up, but does stop running his hand down his date’s back. He’s already feeling their goodbye, despite that smile he’s doing his best to hang on to.
>
“You pick,” he says.
“I’ll sing if y’all sing with me,” Sean responds. “But I’m not picking the damn song.”
At first, no one says anything. We all know once the song finishes, it’ll be time to say goodbye. Hale and Becca are sitting together, close enough that their legs are touching, but not close enough to make me think he’s acted on his feelings for her.
She tugs down the sleeves of her jacket when the breeze picks up and smiles. “How about some Springsteen?” Her eyes scan the area, stopping on each of her friends, including me. “Maybe No Retreat, No Surrender?”
I couldn’t have picked a better song for this bunch, even though I know it’ll be hard for them to get through. Sean starts playing. Everyone joins in, even me.
“Well, we busted out of class, had to get away from those fools. We learned more from a three-minute record, baby, than we ever learned in school . . .”
At first, the five friends all smile through their sadness. But the moment they hit the chorus, Trin and Becca start crying. Tears stream down their faces as they try and push on. Becca clutches Hale’s shirt when he tucks her against him, giving up halfway through the song to cry softly against his chest.
I gather Trin close when she covers her face and can’t continue. By the time the song ends, Sean’s the only one singing. He finishes, all the way until the last string is plucked. He then places my guitar on the empty chair beside him and wipes his nose with the back of his hand.
“Y’all suck,” he says, glancing away.
Everyone laughs except for Trin. Although she’s stopped crying, she looks sick with grief.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, because I know something is, and that it has more to do than with Mason’s departure.
She shakes her head, her face pale.
“Trin, what is it?” I press, keeping my voice low.
“I need to talk to you later,” she says. “It’s important.”
Something in her solemn tone worries me. I’ve never heard her sound so . . . hopeless. Whatever she has to tell me isn’t good news.