Summer Breeze Kisses
Page 39
Bitter…It’s What’s for Dinner
Scarlett
I’ve encountered deception and betrayal before, mostly at the hands of my sister. I was spoon-fed heartbreak and bitterness after my parents’ divorce, but not through any fault of theirs directly. But this? Rex keeping things from me about his mother? And to think I let that boy have his way with my body, repeatedly, in any and every pornographic manner.
“Tell me again what you think you saw?” Daisy strokes my hair with caution as if I’ve gone feral.
The door bursts open, and Piper and Cassidy pile in.
“I’ll kill him.” Cass swoops onto the bed and wraps her arms around me. “I’ll take one of those fancy hunting knives you’ve got lying around, and I’ll lop his balls off.”
Piper sits across from me and picks up my hand. “You can hang them off your rearview mirror like a pair of shriveled up ornaments. He obviously doesn’t have any use for them.”
“Lock the door,” I grunt to Daisy. “There’s no way in hell I want to see his face.”
“What the hell just happened?” Cassidy barks it out, loud and demanding.
“I don’t know. I went over and saw him with my sister. They were kissing at the door.”
Cassidy clucks her tongue. Her head inches back a notch. “You think they got a thing going?”
“No. God, I don’t know. It just caught me off guard. I freaked out and ran. It’s Duncan all over again.”
Piper gives my hand a violent tug. “Who the hell is Duncan?”
“That’s her ex.” Cassidy knows all my ins and outs, and even though we were separated for a time, she’s still up on the highlights and lowlights that life has brought my way. “He was a moron. Never really loved her.”
“Cass!”
“It’s true, Scarlett. If that boy had an ounce of true affection for you, he never would have done the sister switcheroo.”
Piper stiffens. “What sister switcheroo?”
Cassidy nods as if affirming their worst suspicions. “Sabrina is older and far more wicked. She snatched poor Duncky from right under Scarlett’s nose, and now that idiot is bound and gagged to marry the wench.”
“What a witch!” Piper is ready to smash a bottle over my sister’s head, and I don’t blame her. I’m right there with her.
“For our entire lives, Sabrina treated our relationship like some ridiculous competition. We’re sisters. We shouldn’t have to compete, especially not for men. It’s as if she never got the memo.”
“Oh, hon.” Cassidy’s voice softens. “It wasn’t all your lives. You and she were thick as thieves up until your parents split.”
A dull laugh strums through me. Cassidy remembers my life with better clarity than I do.
“She’s right.” I clear my throat. “Sabrina and I were best friends up until the battle lines were drawn. She always felt as if I sided with our father, and once my mother remarried and moved away, the rift between us grew. She hated that I was close to our dad. She tried to make him angry with me, and, when that didn’t work, she conceded that I was his favorite. Of course, she thought my brother got preferential treatment, too, just for the simple fact he’s a boy. But me? My dad and I are close, but neither one of us has ever shut Sabrina out. If anything, she’s done it to herself.”
Daisy shakes her blonde tumble of curls. “And now that you’ve moved on to bigger and better men, she wants to take him off your plate, too. Talk about your backstabbing shenanigans. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.” She leans in and offers up a heartfelt, rocking hug. Daisy’s perfume engulfs me, sweet as cotton candy. This entire last year of rooming with her has been like living at the fairgrounds.
“That’s not quite what happened.” Cassidy pulls my hands forward and looks me dead in the eye. “I know you’re hardwired to stubbornly believe what you want, but I’ve got another theory. That little witch of a sis of yours showed up and tricked him into thinking she’s you!”
Daisy is quick to nod into this theory. “It’s almost pitch-black on that street. He probably took one look at that red shag the two of you share and dropped a wet one on her without hesitating.”
This new line of thinking has the weight of Sabrina’s strumpet of a body lifting right off my chest.
“I suppose it’s logical. But why was Sabrina at his place to begin with? And why hasn’t Rex called or pounded down the door yet?”
No sooner do we immerse ourselves in thought over Rex’s indiscretion, along with his stranger decision not to fall at my feet and beg forgiveness, than someone pounds at the door with the right amount of grief.
“Finally!” Piper hops up and swings it open, revealing a rather pale looking Rex Toberman. There he is in all his quarterback glory, the width and girth of his body taking up the doorframe. “You’d better have a damn good excuse, buddy.”
The three of them look ready to draw and quarter the poor guy.
Rex dares lean into the room, his eyes already pleading with mine. “Can we talk?”
“Go ahead.” I meant for it to sound confident and slightly pissed, only it came out weak as a whisper and wounded.
“Alone?” Rex is begging me for the honor, and, as much as I’d like to, I can’t seem to give it. Besides, it’s best we get the misunderstanding cleared up right here with my friends in the room. Not only will it save me the trouble of having to explain everything, it gives me backup in the event Sabrina the Seductress has struck again. Not that I could even begin to wrap my head around that.
“So tell me. Is she a good kisser? Should I phone Duncan and tell him he’s got competition?” I’m not sure why sarcastic witch mode seems to be my safe haven. Not to mention the fact it seems to be a gear I’m comfortable in around Rex.
His chest thumps with the idea of a laugh. His serious eyes settle over mine with a mixture of disappointment and horror in them.
“No,” he flatlines. “And”—he grinds his palm against his eye a moment—“I kissed her. She didn’t kiss me.” He staggers forward with a look that pleads for forgiveness. “I thought she was you.”
The room breaks out into cheers, and Rex straightens as if caught off guard. It’s not every day you have a peanut gallery around while pouring your heart out trying to explain a major goof.
“I called it!” Cassidy and Piper high-five. “So go ahead.” She offers up a spontaneous applause. “Kiss and make up so we can call it a night.”
Daisy pushes me forward a notch. “And then we’ll leave you alone so the two of you can really kiss and make up.” My three best friends sway as a group at the thought of it.
“Actually.” He slaps his hand over the back of his neck. “There is something you need to know.” The whites of his eyes turn into railroad tracks of crimson. “There’s something I should have told you a long time ago.”
My three best friends gasp as a group in the background.
“Dear God, here we go,” I hiss under my breath as I brace myself for whatever comes next. “Sabrina sponsored nightmare number two is already underway.”
“No.” Rex steps in and takes up my hands, and I let him. I like the way he feels, warm and strong. Just the heat of his touch is enough to make my heart thunder like a shotgun blast. “It has to do with my mother.” He shakes his head as if struggling to get the words out, as if sorry he ever has to say them. “There’s something you should know—your sister and father just found out themselves.”
“What is it? Is she sick?” My voice pitches, I spit it out so fast. For the first time in the history of ever, I’m suddenly very concerned about Lynette Toberman’s welfare. “We can go to her. I’ll leave with you right now.”
“No.” His brows furrow. Rex glides his hands over my bare arms, and I shiver as he washes me in his warmth. “She did something, a long time ago. She went to prison for it, Scarlett.” His eyes bear into mine, and suddenly, his gaze burns like acid. “My father lost his fortune. He’s trying to rebuild his life. My mother left him.”
“Not true. They lie with you.”
“Some people will say anything to get what they want—your mother included. Get out.”
Rex steps in with his chest expanding with his next breath, his watery eyes pleading for mercy. “There’s more.”
“Oh, I’ve heard enough. You had months to fill me in on this little tidbit of information!” My voice riots throughout the tiny chamber. “An entire year in which you and your mother chose to pull the wool over my father’s eyes, and he just found out tonight? Crap, Rex! You’re like a bunch of scam artists. Get the hell out, and don’t come back!” I make a dash for the bathroom and lock myself inside.
The rumble of his voice vibrates through the walls then the sound of the door closing with a pronounced click. I slide down to the floor and crumple into tears.
I thought Rex and I had it all.
The only thing we truly had was one big ball of lies.
My father doesn’t feel much like speaking to Lynette just yet either. He’s declared a moratorium on the relationship, affording them both a time-out. His words not mine. We steal away for a few days and head up to the Happy Squirrel along with Sabrina and Lawson. It’s a time-out all of our own. My father and Lawson barbeque while Sabrina and I immerse ourselves in one Netflix marathon after the other. None of us talk much about the incident, at least not after the initial verbal vomit where each of us spilled what little we knew. I suspect my father knows a touch more, but isn’t into throwing Lynette fully under the bus just yet. This entire nightmare has to be a blow to his ego.
Rex has texted and called at least fifty times. He’s diligent—I’ll give him that. He wants to talk. He misses me. He needs to hear my voice. All things are true on my end in reverse, but in reality, I don’t have the stomach to dig deeper into the Toberman web of deception. And to think he was going to help me reinstate our parents as a couple once again. What a joke. I had probably fallen into his trap all along. I bet he and his mother were laughing at me the whole time—at my entire family. All it took was a little digging from Sabrina to bring to light all the darkness the Tobermans tried so hard to disguise. Worse yet, they weren’t disguised so well. A simple Internet search or two could have diverted this entire nightmare about a year ago. Lesson learned. Google the hell out of anyone you even think you know—especially if turning in your V-card is involved—or your father’s impending future and fragile heart.
A foolish part of me believed what Rex and I had was real. The way his body moved over mine, in mine, he put on quite the convincing act. I close my eyes and relive that moment. How could I have mistaken any of that for magic? For true love? If the Tobermans aren’t laughing at us all, they should be.
On Sunday, as we pack up to leave, Sabrina comes over and offers up a firm embrace.
“What’s this for?” I’m still a little skeptical of any show of kindness my sister might throw my way. Chalk it up to a decade’s worth of bruised hearts, one stolen boyfriend, and one stolen kiss.
“For putting up with me all these years.” She pulls back with tears glistening in her vibrant eyes. I’ve always thought Sabrina’s deep aquamarine-colored irises were far more elegant than my algae-riddled lenses, and now that they’re illuminated with tears, they glow a peculiar shade of neon. “I’m not with Duncan anymore.”
“Really?” My heart thuds to a stop as if this were genuinely disconcerting. In a way it is. Sabrina as a free agent has generally been a dangerous thing.
“Yes, really.” Her smile crumbles a moment, and I see myself in her features, knife-sharp like a mirror image. I’ve often wondered what Duncan saw in her—in the least he saw a vague image of me. “The truth is, I’ve always been jealous of you. I’ve always wanted what you’ve had. I was never that into Duncan. And don’t hate me, but I wanted to try to steal Rex away from you, too. Deep down, I’ve always felt like everyone gravitated to you, and all I ever wanted was a piece of that affection. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Sabrina.” I pull her in, and her chest bucks over mine.
“I’m ready to bury the past with an ice pick,” she whispers.
“You mean hatchet?”
“No, trust me, when you really need the job done, you always go with an ice pick.”
We share a hearty laugh, a sisterly laugh. She hugs me hard, and I hug her back. For the very first time in forever, it feels as if something has been restored. Even though I’ve lost Rex, I’ve regained my sister.
I guess you really can’t have it all.
August comes with a searing heat that turns my hair to whiskers of hay, my skin to dry scales, thirsty for a cocoa butter bath. But it’s my heart that’s shriveled ten sizes too small, no longer able to care for the rest of me. I want nothing more than to curl up in a ball and sleep through the rest of this thick, polemic heat wave that summer has become. But it’s not the heat that’s got me wishing I could escape reality for a week or ten. It’s the boy who reached into my chest and squeezed the life out of my beating heart. I’ve successfully avoided Rex, dodging into the bathroom for an hour straight when I accidentally bumped into him in the library. My entire body clapped with an electrical jolt. I shook like a dog at the kennel as I sat fully clothed on that toilet seat. Not my finest moment, but by the time I paroled myself from my self-imposed restroom exile, he was nowhere to be seen.
He’s all but stopped texting me, so there’s that. A part of me misses the barrage of electronic missives that bordered on cyberstalking as much as I miss Rex, or at least the version I thought I knew. Then finally—and much to my relief—the football team disappeared off to some boot camp for the last two weeks. It was as if I could finally move about campus without fear of bumping into him, landing myself on another toilet for far longer than any clothed tushie was ever meant to sit on it. But now he’s back, and I’m right back to dodging. With the exception of this very minute, I’m not dodging anyone. I’m frosting at a million miles an hour.
Roxy and I have stood side by side for the last four hours straight, frosting cupcakes for one of her best friend’s wedding. I’ve met Izzy around the bar, and, of course, Holt practically runs the place himself with his brother, Bryson. Roxy’s been on edge all day trying to get every little detail right. The cupcakes of choice are red velvet with cream cheese frosting. Half of the cupcakes have a pink ballerina slipper made of melted sugar because Izzy owns her own dance studio, and the other half are adorned with a chocolate martini glass to represent the bars that Holt owns.
“These are totally adorable,” I reassure her as I box up the last of them. There are fifty boxes, a dozen in each box, which makes for one serious cupcake feast for everyone at the venue. Not to mention the fact, Roxy’s cupcakes are huge, more muffin-like than anything small and dainty. I sniff hard while stacking the boxes for Cole to carry downstairs. I’ve already studied the route to the Electric Lights Dance Company as if it were the LSATs. It’s way out in the boonies, but with a little fancy, yet time-consuming maneuvering, I can totally get there on side streets.
“Hey.” Roxy places her hand on my shoulder and carefully spins me toward her. “Things still in the crapper?” Her dark cherry red hair is a touch more pronounced than mine, and her makeup is amazing, albeit Goth-inspired with heavy kohl liner ringing her eyes. Roxy is gorgeous and a badass baker chick who doesn’t take crap from anyone. She would never have had her boyfriend stolen by her sister or gifted her virginity to a con artist. Over the last few weeks, I’ve filled her in on life in “the crapper.”
“It hasn’t been easy.”
Cole swoops in and kisses Roxy from behind as he helps load the boxes into a thermal soft cooler. They would have brought the cupcakes themselves since they’ll be attending the wedding, but they still need to get dressed, and the cupcakes need to be meticulously arranged at least an hour in advance since this i
s basically their wedding cake.
“What’s not easy?” Cole glances from me to Roxy as he stacks the last of the boxes.
“None of your hot business.” Roxy is forever flirting with Cole. She’s a little on the abrasive side, but he seems to get a kick out of it.
“No, it’s okay.” I’m not in the mood to hide my less than favorable disposition. “The guy I was dating—”
“The asshat she gifted her virginity to—” Roxy cuts me off.
“Right.” I frown at Cole a moment. So much for it not being any of his hot business. “Anyway, things didn’t end exactly how I thought they would, and loading the cupcakes sort of reminded me of the cute nickname he used to call me—Muffin Top.”
Cole inches back as if the moniker offended him personally. “You sure he liked you?”
Roxy swats him. “Get this down to the car.”
“Sorry. Will do.” He grabs the cooler and heads to the elevator.
“Don’t worry about this guy.” Roxy pulls me into a tight embrace, a display of affection I’m not used to with her. She takes a step back and nods as if I should know what she’s about to say next. “Sometimes, things have a funny way of working themselves out, and, if they do, I totally take back the asshat comment.”
We share a quick laugh. “It would take an act of God for things to work out between us.”
“If it’s meant to be, trust me, you’ll find yourself in an act of God sooner than later. Hold on to your skirt. It might just be a bumpy ride.”
I think on her cryptic words all the way down to my car where Cole entombs the cooler into my truck.
He hands me the keys with a pained smile. “I just remembered they’re doing roadwork out by 57th. You’ll have to hang a right off Central and take the highway about a few miles. Just a small detour. You’ll get there quicker, too.” He heads back toward the building. “I’ll see you at the dance studio!”