by Kim Karr
Xander raises his arms in surrender. “Wow, calm down. I didn’t know. But I’m just teasing you.”
I roll my eyes at him and quickly text Ben back.
Did I tell you I make those sounds when I eat my favorite foods?
I slide my phone back into my pocket and watch Xander slip a stuffed mushroom in Ivy’s mouth.
“Um . . . these are so good,” she says, and I want to gag. Fungus with bread crumbs is definitely not something I had selected for the menu tonight. I wonder what else got messed up.
“Hey, little sis, aren’t those your favorite?” he asks, pointing to a silver tray with scallops wrapped in bacon.
“Very funny.”
“Why don’t you try one of them for old times?” Xander asks.
“No, thank you,” I say almost menacingly.
“I dare you,” he challenges.
My gaze flits over him in an assessing manner. In our family we never shut down a dare. So I reach for the appetizer. I squish my nose in disgust and pop it into my mouth, swallowing it without even chewing. Then I cover my mouth to stop from gagging.
“Happy?” I wave my hands in the air at me.
“What? Are you going to throw up?” Xander asks, now with concern in his voice.
I cover my lips again, not really sure if I’m going to, and decide I’d better hurry to the bathroom just in case. “I just remembered. I forgot the Bellinis. I’ll be back.”
I make it into the bathroom and I’m fine by then. There’s a chair in the corner and I take a seat, pulling out my phone to see if Ben responded. He did.
Do you forget, I’ve heard the sounds you make when you’ve eaten and they are nothing like what I heard today. Just admit it, you want me.
I smile hugely and my cheeks prickle when I do. Quickly I text him back.
That’s a fact I’ve never denied. You just never asked.
I was being respectful of your “guidelines.” But tell me now, “Do you want me?”
I’ve always wanted you.
Fuck me.
That’s the plan.
My stomach flutters and I’m feeling pretty proud of myself for my wit. I shove my phone in my pocket and stop to look in the mirror. When I do I’m a little shocked by how red my skin is. I splash some cool water over my face, but my discomfort level is starting to rise. A dab of powder takes away the shine and dulls the color.
A few hours later, I’m tired but happy watching everyone enjoying themselves. I’m also feeling eager for it to end.
“Perk up,” Tate whispers in my ear.
The hand he places on my waist starts drifting down to my rear. I jump and turn around with a glare that should remind him where things stand between us. The dilation of his pupils tells me he’s had way too much to drink.
He lifts his glass. “You know how to throw a great party.”
“Thank you,” I say curtly.
He frowns at me. “You don’t look happy.”
I step back. “I am . . . about the party.”
I glance around, trying to avoid his scrutinizing stare. Romeo is dancing extremely close with some woman. Their bodies are rubbing against each other in a way that screams we’re having sex tonight—I’m not sure whether it’s his fiancée, because I’ve never met her, even though this woman does look familiar to me.
Jagger and Aerie are dancing in the same way, but the sight of them together makes me smile. And River is kissing Dahlia while Garrett stands next to them as if waiting for him to finish. Garrett really needs a girlfriend of his own. I thought he was into Ena, Xander’s assistant, but it seems she’s with Leif. I can’t keep up.
“You’re extremely moody,” Tate says.
“Me?” I say, trying not to sound as offended as I am. My grin fades. “I’m not the moody one,” I say in a bold tone I haven’t displayed in a while.
He clams up.
“I have a few things to take care of.”
He grabs my arm before I can walk away. “Dance with me.”
“No, thank you.”
“Who are you seeing?” His short, sharp tone isn’t the normal one I’m used to. This tone is laced with menace.
“Oh, there you are,” my mother says, oblivious of the scene before her.
I try to smile at her, to make everything seem all right.
Her eyes zero in on my face and I know it must be flushed with anger. “You look like you got too much sun today.”
“Yeah, I think I did—”
I’m interrupted by the sound of Xander’s voice in the microphone. “Here she is, everyone—Ivy Taylor,” he announces.
“Come on, darling, we’re going to miss it,” my mother says, reaching for my hand. I take hers and despite myself I feel guilty I haven’t told her about Ben.
We press our way over to the stage and listen to a medley of Ivy’s new songs. I close my eyes and sing along, but all the while visions of Ben kissing me, putting his hands on my body, feeling me in the most intimate places are all I can think about. I open my eyes when everyone applauds, smiling when I see the look on Xander’s face. He holds out his arm for Ivy to join him and then does something completely out of character and jumps onstage, swinging Ivy around. I look at my mother and we both have tears in our eyes. She pulls me in for a hug and her slight touch feels like pinpricks against my tender skin.
“Don’t cry, Mom.”
“I’m trying not to, but seeing him so happy makes me so happy.”
“I know, Mom. I know.”
She takes a deep breath and whispers, “It’s what I want for all of my children.”
I pull away. “I have to go check on Dino and Matt.”
She nods.
I spend what’s left of the night talking to the guests and trying to avoid both Tate and Romeo, who have approached me numerous times together and separately. My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and read the message.
I should be there in about twenty minutes.
I text back.
I can’t wait to see you.
I can’t wait to do a lot of things.
My nerves flutter like the butterflies in my stomach, but I don’t have much time to think about them because the music begins and I know it’s time for the engagement announcement. Keeping my mouth shut has been difficult but I managed it. River starts to sing “Marry Me,” the No Doubt version, of course—Xander always said Ivy looked like Gwen Stefani. As River sings, Xander braces his arms around Ivy and they dance. My mother has tears streaming down her face and when they finish she goes to hug them.
A tinge of jealousy flares within me. River and now Xander—both of my brothers have found their happily ever after. Will I ever find mine? But I push that aside because I couldn’t be happier for my brother. Our family has been through a lot, but I think Xander has been through the most. He deserves this. I notice Jack flash a grin at them and then engulf Ivy in a huge embrace.
Dino elbows me. “Didn’t you want these?” he asks.
“Yes, oh yes.” For the first time as I thank Dino I think Ben might be right—he’s interested in me. I’m flattered, but it’s almost laughable, as he’s so young.
I wave my hands toward River and he crosses the room to grab the champagne.
“You’re on fire,” he comments.
I laugh. “I’m prepared.”
“No, for real. You’re so red. Are you okay?”
I jab the bottle at him. “I’m fine. Let’s get a move on.”
Dahlia is at his side, snapping pictures, and I trail behind with the tray of champagne flutes.
“Pssttt,” I say to her.
She looks over her shoulder.
“Happy anniversary.”
She smiles. “Thank you.”
We all circle around Xander and Ivy, and River tugs on the cork and it goes flying. I jump, startled by the noise. Laughter fills the room when he spills a little on the floor and flashes a grin. “I always say I’m not much of a bartender.”
Xander w
hispers something to him that I can’t hear. River nods and then the two embrace, pulling me in as well. Now tears well in my eyes. I love them so much.
River turns back to the crowd and hoists a glass high for a toast. “To Ivy and Xander. To true love.”
We all clink our glasses and my tears of joy spill over.
I make a toast next. “To Ivy and Xander—if I ever doubted fate you’ve changed that for me. Because of you I believe in fairy tales, butterflies, and destiny.”
Everyone looks at me questioningly. I shrug with a smile and they all let it go and start sipping their champagne.
When everyone starts to converse, I whisper in Ivy’s ear, “I have to leave, but I’ll be calling you to plan the wedding.” And with that my heels click the floor as I dash as fast as I can toward the door.
CHAPTER 17
Navigate Me
Ben
The road between Laguna Beach and LA is once again becoming very familiar territory to me. In my BMW X-5, I head toward the City of Angels. I have a thing for BMWs—always have. I remember my father driving the oldest, ugliest orange BMW when I was a kid. They’re some of the clearest memories I have of him. I’d be sitting in the backseat on the perforated black leather and watching as my father jammed his foot up and down when he tried to unstick the clutch or when he’d pound his fist against the stick next to him because he couldn’t get the gears to shift. We’d almost always roll out of the driveway backward and my dad would yell words my mother would scold him for. I didn’t understand why either of them seemed upset when to me it was nothing but fun. I’d sit in the backseat and laugh at them both.
Approaching the seemingly infinite lights that twinkle all around me, I find it odd to feel the start of a smile when I look ahead. I’ve always hated LA, but for some reason I don’t see it as pretentious anymore. Instead it reminds me of Bell. The music in the car is low because I don’t need to blast it to ease my thoughts as I careen through the streets. The night seems oddly quiet. But as I coast onto the streets of LA, the quietness fades. The tree-lined streets become lively, but it’s not with cars. Trick-or-treaters fill the sidewalks—pumpkins, ghosts, goblins, and even a few Batman costumes parade door to door. I pass the LA Times building lit up in orange and remember how excited I was to start working there so many years ago. So much has happened since then. But I’ve put the past in the past and I’m moving forward.
The traffic light turns red and I stop and take the time to reread our texts from earlier. My anticipation of what the night is going to bring only grows by the moment, as does the size of my cock. The light turns green and I drive even faster to get there. Cars are emptying out of the parking lot as I pull in. I had considered attending a million different times, but each scenario ended with putting S’belle in an awkward situation and I didn’t want to stress her out when this was meant to be a happy time for her family.
Putting my BMW in PARK, I look toward the car in front of me. The license plate reads T WYATT. What the fuck is that asshole doing here? I swivel my gaze toward the building and I’m caught off guard by the sign before me. Dahlia had told me what she named the company she started with her husband. But hearing about it and seeing the evidence in person are entirely different. Erected to the side of the pathway leading to the building’s glass doors stands a huge rectangular concrete sign with the words TYLER RECORDS AND AMAZING GRACE STUDIOS scripted across it in rose letters.
This gesture rocks me more than I thought it would. My mother’s name scripted in her favorite color makes everything suddenly seem more real. Maybe I was wrong about not caring if our relationship would be tainted by how it first began? How will my connection to the people inside affect a possible future with S’belle? Would her family ever be able to let the fact go that I cheated on Dahlia with S’belle?
If it was just about me, I couldn’t give a shit. But I know how important her family is to her. I know she doesn’t think they can accept me and my part in her past and that’s why she hasn’t told them she’s been seeing me. Not sure anymore if I should go down this road with her, I shift my car into DRIVE, but before I can take my foot off the gas, the passenger door opens and S’belle slips inside.
Her lemony scent immediately assaults me. I breathe deep and glance at her. She’s so fucking sexy wearing a green strapless shorts outfit with metallic flowers on it, and the same wisps of thin gold chains that I untangled from her hair this morning are wrapped around her neck. Her eyes sparkle as she leans toward me and I’m greeted with a breathy “Hi.”
“Hi there, beautiful,” I say, letting my doubts go as I stare at the girl sitting beside me.
Her smile widens.
“Did I mention I can’t wait to strip your clothes off?”
She leans over toward me and slides her hands up my thighs, and my cock is just as excited as I am. I clear my throat, knowing we need to get out of the parking lot and back to her place . . . quickly.
She hovers over me, her hands on my legs. “Did I ever mention I took a striptease class a few years ago?”
I swallow. “A striptease class?”
“Yes, it was great exercise.”
“Fuck,” I mutter.
She sits back in her seat and when she attempts to strap her seat belt on she says, “Ouch.”
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” she responds.
“How was the party?”
Something flickers in her gaze. “It was . . . fun,” she says. “But it would have been more fun if you were there.”
“You didn’t invite me,” I joke.
She catches me off guard when her hands grab my face. And then her soft lips are on mine for a moment before she speaks. “You know it’s complicated.”
I do actually. We did discuss the event; we have yet to discuss just how complicated the situation is. But now is not the time. I grab the back of her neck and pull her even closer to me. When her soft lips meet mine I wonder what the hell I was thinking when I almost left without her. My tongue finds hers and I kiss her with the hunger I seem to feel for her all the time. When we finally break apart and neither of us is able to breathe, I look at her, into her eyes. “Do you know how much I want you?”
She nods, her eyes glimmering. “As much as I want you.” She smiles.
I put the car in reverse and catch her gaze. “Are you ready?”
“More than ready.” Her voice is hoarse but definitely not weak.
I put my foot on the brake and place my hand on her thigh. She jumps a little when I circle my thumb over her bare skin and after a few minutes she grabs my hand.
“Everything okay?” I ask, shooting a glance her way as I hop on the freeway.
“Yes,” she says with forced exaggeration.
“Really? Because it doesn’t sound that way.”
“I’m fine,” she says, moving our hands over to my leg.
I exit the freeway and stop at the light. “Come here,” I tell her, and grab her shoulder, pulling her over to me. Again she jumps. I let go of her and take her chin in my hand. “Okay, what’s the matter, Red? Do you not want to do this?”
“No, that’s not it at all. It’s just . . .” She pauses.
The light turns and I drop my hand. “Just what?” I ask, twisting to see her.
Her eyes widen like saucers. “You have to promise not to laugh.”
I want to promise, I really do, but the face she made makes a memory flash through my mind. The first time we talked in the library at college and she dropped the Kama Sutra book on the floor.
Her lips purse and her eyes narrow on me. “I just asked you not to laugh.”
“You haven’t even told me anything,” I say, holding my stomach to control my own laughter. It’s so strange how she can lift my mood so quickly.
“I know, so why are you already laughing?” she scoffs.
“You made a face that reminded me of the first time I saw you in the library when you were randomly shuffling through books and you drop
ped that book on the floor.”
Her gaze softens. “You remember that?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Pulling up in front of her nicely kept Spanish-style apartment complex, I turn the engine off. Twisting toward her, I run my fingers down the bare skin of her arm and again she jumps. All remnants of laughter dissolve as I turn toward her in the dark of the night. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing really. I just feel a little sunburned.”
I flick the dome light on in the car. Fuck me, she’s the color of a lobster. “A little! Have you put anything on it?”
“No, not yet. Honestly, I didn’t start to feel it until I got to the party.”
“What kind of sunblock was that you put on?”
“Actually I didn’t have much sunblock left, so I poured a little moisturizer in the bottle. It said it had SPF in it.”
I shake my head at her in disbelief. “Come on, let’s go put something cool on it.”
I’m careful to only touch where her clothing is, but even then I see her body tighten in discomfort. She leads me up the stairs and to the door of her apartment that from the outside I know so well. When she opens it and walks through, I catch sight for the first time of where she lives. Candles are scattered all around, a bottle of sparkling water with two glasses sits on her coffee table, and her bikini is thrown on the back of her sofa. I try to ignore the intimate setting that she has set and swivel my gaze over the rest of the room. There isn’t much furniture—the sofa, the coffee table, a television, and a small stereo unit on the floor. I look over toward the kitchen—a few barstools, but no table under the light in the corner. I know she’s lived here for a while, but it looks as if she just moved in.
“This is really nice,” I say, closing the door behind me.
“Thanks, I’m not done with it yet, but it’s getting there.”
I walk up behind her. “It looks like you were expecting company.”
She tosses her keys and twists her head back to rest on my shoulder. “Well, someone who wasn’t invited was making a nuisance of himself.”
“Is this the way you greet all nuisances who invite themselves over?” I bend down to kiss her lips and rest my hands on her shoulders.