"A cruel prank? You've just hit the lottery. Not only are your bullies gone, but you have two of the best people in town as your parents."
"It feels wrong to celebrate it."
"You didn't steal them, Erin. They're yours. Kind of like me."
I looked over at him, and I could see his amazing smile in the dim light of the moon. "It's just too much good luck all at once for someone who hasn't had any. I feel like it's all going to be ripped away from me at any moment."
"I'm not going anywhere," he said. "I promise."
I turned onto my side, leaning over him, and touched my lips to his. It was a chilly night, but something deep inside of me felt warm, and the warmth spread throughout my body. Weston felt it, too, because his fingers pressed into my skin, and he made that little sound that I loved. I pulled away, and bit my lip, a little nervous about what I was about to do.
I sat up, and slipped my shirt over my head. Weston didn't move until I reached back to unsnap my bra, and then he sat up, grabbing my arms. He kissed me once, whispering against my lips.
"What are you doing?" His eyes were closed, but the tension of restraint was evident in every muscle of his body.
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
"Not here."
"What?"
"You don't want your first time to be in the back of my truck."
"Why not? My favorite memories are here."
He thought about it for a moment. When I kissed him, he kissed me back, hard. His fingers touched the top of my shoulders, and he pulled down the white straps of my bra. The second it was lying next to us, he ripped his shirt over his head and pulled me against him. His warm chest against my bare breasts created a tingling between my thighs, and it was my turn to make that low humming sound.
Weston turned me onto my back, undid my jeans, and pulled them down, past my ankles, and set them in the pile with the rest of our clothes. It didn't take long for both of us to be naked, and then Weston was above me, his mouth on mine, his bare skin against mine.
I squeezed his hips between my thighs while he slipped on a condom, but when he was finished and perfectly positioned to take my virginity, he paused.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "I mean completely sure. You can say wait right now, and I'd be okay with it. I'll wait."
I reached down to his bare backside, and with my fingers, pushed him into me. He buried his face in my neck as he worked his way in, gentle and slow. I was glad he wasn't kissing me, because I was unable to focus on anything but the uncomfortable burning. After a few minutes, though, we seemed to fit together perfectly, and I relaxed. Weston's mouth returned to mine, and we touched and tasted each other until we were spent.
Just before sunrise, Weston reached for his jeans pocket. He pulled out his inhaler and took a puff. He stared at me, exhausted and happy. We settled on our backs, looking up at the stars. Weston kissed my forehead and reached over to his jacket, covering me. He reached for his jeans pocket, pulling out a long, black box.
"I got you something," he said.
"For what?"
"Your birthday."
"My birthday was in September," I said.
He chuckled. "It's a belated birthday gift. I wanted to wait until graduation, but I couldn't. Now feels like the perfect moment."
The box creaked when I peeled it apart, and my hands trembled with excitement. It had been a long time since anyone had given me anything. The lid flipped open, revealing a silver heart. It was nearly identical to the one in the charcoal drawing, complete with Happenstance etched across it. I gasped.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"Like it? It's the same necklace, isn't it?"
He beamed. "You remembered."
"Of course I remembered, how did you find this?"
We both sat up. Weston pulled the necklace from the box and fastened the clasp behind my neck. "I have connections. I'm a good person to know, you know."
"I know," I said, wrapping my arms around him.
He kissed me once. "I didn't know that when I saw it on you, it would be the only thing you were wearing. This is a definite bonus."
I giggled.
He looked at the heart, then back up at me. "It's perfect. Like the girl in the window."
"She's not perfect," I said, shaking my head.
"She's perfect for me." He touched his lips to mine, and just when that warm, tingling feeling began to spread throughout my body, he pulled away.
"We'd better get dressed and get you back to the house so we can get a few hours of sleep. We've got to get you moved today."
"I'm moving in with the Aldermans," I said, thinking out loud.
"You are an Alderman."
I shook my head, in complete disbelief. "This is going to mess with my head if I think about it too hard."
Weston helped me from the tailgate, and again to the passenger side of his truck. It was beginning to feel like my side, and I liked that. He held my hand as he drove me back to his house, and I felt at ease knowing that even though I was leaving that day, I would be only a few houses away.
Weston noticed that I was lost in thought and squeezed my hand. "Try not to overthink it. It is what it is."
I touched the necklace that hung perfectly against the little indention between my collar bones, and wondered what it would be like to live as Erin Alderman.
"It's happenstance," I whispered.
Coming July 1, 2014
Excerpt from Beautiful Oblivion
Chapter One
His words hung there, in the darkness between our voices. I sometimes found comfort in that space, but in three months, I'd only found unrest. That space became more like a convenient place to hide. Not for me, for him. My fingers ached, so I allowed them to relax, not realizing how hard I'd been gripping my cell phone.
My roommate, Raegan, was sitting next to my open suitcase on the bed, her legs crisscrossed. Whatever look was on my face prompted her to take my hand. T.J.? she mouthed.
I nodded.
"Will you please say something?" T.J. asked.
"What do you want me to say? I'm packed. I took vacation time. Hank has already given Jorie my shifts."
"I feel like a huge asshole. I wish I didn't have to go, but I warned you. When I have an ongoing project, I can be called out at any time. If you need help with rent or anything . . ."
"I don't want your money," I said, rubbing my eyes.
"I thought this would be a good weekend. I swear to God I did."
"I thought I'd be getting on a plane tomorrow morning, and instead you're calling me to say I can't come. Again."
"I know this seems like a dick move. I swear to you I told them I had important plans. But when things come up, Cami . . . I have to do my job."
I wiped a tear from my cheek, but I refused to let him hear me cry. I kept the trembling from my voice. "Are you coming home for Thanksgiving, then?"
He sighed. "I want to. But I don't know if I can. It depends on if this is wrapped up. I do miss you. A lot. I don't like this, either."
"Will your schedule ever get better?" I asked. It took him longer than it should to answer.
"What if I said probably not?"
I lifted my eyebrows. I expected that answer but didn't expect him to be so . . . truthful.
"I'm sorry," he said. I imagined him cringing. "I just pulled into the airport. I have to go."
"Yeah, okay. Talk to you later." I forced my voice to stay level. I didn't want to sound upset. I didn't want him to think I was weak or emotional. He was strong, and self-reliant, and did what had to be done without complaint. I tried to be that for him. Whining about something out of his control wouldn't help anything.
He sighed again. "I know you don't believe me, but I do love you."
"I believe you," I said, and I meant it.
I pressed the red button on the screen and let my phone fall to the bed.
Raegan was already in damage control mode. "He was called into work?"
; I nodded.
"Okay, well, maybe you guys will just have to be more spontaneous. Maybe you can just show up, and if he's called out while you're there, you wait on him. When he gets back, you pick up where you left off."
"Maybe."
She squeezed my hand. "Or maybe he's a tool who should stop choosing his job over you?"
I shook my head. "He's worked really hard for this position."
"You don't even know what position it is."
"I told you. He's utilizing his degree. He specializes in statistical analysis and data reconfiguration, whatever that means."
She shot me a dubious look. "Yeah, you also told me to keep it all a secret. Which makes me think he's not being completely honest with you."
I stood up and dumped out my suitcase, letting all the contents spill onto my comforter. Usually I only made my bed when I was packing, so I could now see the comforter's light blue fabric with a few navy blue octopus tentacles reaching across it. T.J. hated it, but it made me feel like I was being hugged while I slept. My room was made up of strange, random things, but then, so was I.
Raegan rummaged through the pile of clothes, and held up a black top with the shoulders and front strategically ripped. "We both have the night off. We should go out. Get drinks served to us for once."
I grabbed the shirt from her hands and inspected it while I mulled over Raegan's suggestion. "You're right. We should. Are we taking your car, or the Smurf?"
Raegan shrugged. "I'm almost on empty and we don't get paid until tomorrow."
"Looks like it's the Smurf, then."
After a crash session in the bathroom, Raegan and I jumped up into my light blue, modified CJ Jeep. It wasn't in the best of shape, but at one time, someone had enough vision and love to mold it into a Jeep/truck hybrid. The spoiled college dropout who owned the Smurf between that owner and me didn't love it as much. The seat cushions were exposed in some places where the black leather seats were torn, the carpet had cigarette holes and stains, and the hard top needed to be replaced, but that neglect meant that I could pay for it in full, and a payment-free vehicle was the best kind to own.
I buckled my seat belt, and stabbed the key into the ignition.
"Should I pray?" Raegan asked.
I turned the key, and the Smurf made a sickly whirring noise. The engine sputtered, and then purred, and we both clapped. My parents raised four children on a factory worker's salary. They didn't buy a vehicle for any of my brothers, despite their appeals, so I knew it was the right choice not to even bother asking. I got a job at the local ice cream shop when I was fifteen, and saved $557.11. The Smurf wasn't the vehicle I dreamed about when I was little, but 550 bucks bought me independence, and that was priceless.
Twenty minutes later, Raegan and I were on the opposite side of town, strutting across the gravel lot of the Red Door, slowly and in unison, as if we were being filmed while walking to a badass soundtrack.
Kody was standing at the entrance, his huge arms probably the same size as my head. He eyed us as we approached. "IDs."
"Fuck off!" Raegan snarled. "We work here. You know how old we are."
He shrugged. "Still have to see IDs."
I frowned at Raegan, and she rolled her eyes, digging into her back pocket. "If you don't know how old I am at this point, we have issues."
"C'mon, Raegan. Quit busting my balls and let me see the damn thing."
"The last time I let you see something you didn't call me for three days."
He cringed. "You're never going to get over that, are you?"
She tossed her ID at Kody and he slapped it against his chest. He glanced at it, and then handed it back, looking at me expectantly. I handed him my driver's license.
"Thought you were leaving town?" he asked, glancing down before returning the thin plastic card to me.
"Long story," I said, stuffing my license into my back pocket. My jeans were so tight I was amazed I could fit anything besides my ass back there.
Kody opened the oversize red door, and Raegan smiled sweetly. "Thanks, baby."
"Love you. Be good."
"I'm always good," she said, winking.
"See you when I get off work?"
"Yep." She pulled me through the door.
"You are the weirdest couple," I said over the bass. It was buzzing in my chest, and I was fairly certain every beat made my bones shake.
"Yep," Raegan said again.
The dance floor was already packed with sweaty, drunk college kids. The fall semester was in full swing. Raegan walked over to the bar and stood at the end. Jorie winked at her.
"Want me to clear you out some seats?" she asked.
Raegan shook her head. "You're just offering because you want my tips from last night!"
Jorie laughed. Her long, platinum blond hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders, with a few black peekaboo strands. She wore a black minidress and combat boots, and was pushing buttons on the cash register to ring someone up while she talked to us. We had all learned to multitask and move like every tip was a hundred-dollar bill. If you could bartend fast enough, you stood a chance of working the east bar, and the tips made there could pay a month's worth of bills in a weekend.
That was where I'd been tending bar for a year, placed just three months after I was hired at the Red Door. Raegan worked right beside me, and together we kept that machine greased like a stripper in a plastic pool full of baby oil. Jorie and the other bartender, Blia, worked the south bar at the entrance. It was basically a kiosk, and they loved it when Raegan or I were out of town.
"So? What are you drinking?" Jorie asked.
Raegan looked at me, and then back at Jorie. "Whiskey sours."
I made a face. "Minus the sour, please."
Once Jorie passed us our drinks, Raegan and I found an empty table and sat, shocked at our luck. Weekends were always packed, and an open table at ten thirty wasn't common.
I held a brand-new pack of cigarettes in my hand and hit the end of it against my palm to pack them, then tore off the plastic, flipping the top. Even though the Red was so smoky that just sitting there made me feel like I was smoking an entire pack of cigarettes, it was nice to sit at a table and relax. When I was working, I usually had time for one drag and the rest burned away, unsmoked.
Raegan watched me light it. "I want one."
"No, you don't."
"Yes, I do!"
"You haven't smoked in two months, Raegan. You'll blame me tomorrow for ruining your streak."
She gestured at the room. "I'm smoking! Right now!"
I narrowed my eyes at her. Raegan was exotically beautiful, with long, chestnut brown hair, bronze skin, and honey brown eyes. Her nose was perfectly small, not too round or too pointy, and her skin made her look like she came fresh off of a Neutrogena commercial. We met in elementary school, and I was instantly drawn to her brutal honesty. Raegan could be incredibly intimidating, even for Kody, who, at six foot four, was over a foot taller than she was. Her personality was charming to those she loved, and a repellant to those she didn't.
I was the opposite of exotic. My tousled brown bob and heavy bangs were easy to maintain, but not a lot of men found it sexy. Not a lot of men found me sexy in general. I was the girl next door, your brother's best friend. Growing up with three brothers and our cousin Colin, I could have been a tomboy if my subtle but still present curves hadn't ousted me from the boys' only clubhouse at fourteen.
"Don't be that girl," I said. "If you want one, go buy your own."
She crossed her arms, pouting. "That's why I quit. They're fucking expensive."
I stared at the burning paper and tobacco nestled between my fingers. "That is a fact my broke ass continues to make note of."
The song switched from something everyone wanted to dance to, to a song no one wanted to dance to, and dozens of people began making their way off the dance floor. Two girls walked up to our table and traded glances.
"That's our table," the blonde said.
Raegan barely acknowledged them.
"Excuse me, bitch she's talking to you," the brunette said, setting her beer on the table.
"Raegan," I warned.
Raegan looked at me with a blank face, and then up at the girl with the same expression. "It was your table. Now it's ours."
"We were here first," the blonde hissed.
"And now you're not," Raegan said. She picked up the unwelcome beer bottle and tossed it across the floor. It spilled out onto the dark, tightly stitched carpet. "Fetch."
The brunette watched her beer slide across the floor, and then took a step toward Raegan, but her friend grabbed both of her arms. Raegan offered an unimpressed laugh, and then turned her gaze toward the dance floor. The brunette finally followed her friend to the bar.
I took a drag from my cigarette. "I thought we were going to have a good time tonight."
"That was fun, right?"
I shook my head, stifling a smile. Raegan was a great friend, but I wouldn't cross her. Growing up with so many boys in the house, I'd had enough fighting to last a lifetime. They didn't baby me. If I didn't fight back, they'd just fight dirtier until I did. And I always did.
Raegan didn't have an excuse. She was just a scrappy bitch. "Oh, look. Megan's here," she said, pointing to the blue-eyed, crow-headed beauty on the dance floor. I shook my head. She was out there with Travis Maddox, basically getting screwed in front of everyone on the dance floor.
"Oh, those Maddox boys," Raegan said.
"Yeah," I said, downing my whiskey. "This was a bad idea. I'm not feeling clubby tonight."
"Oh, stop." Raegan gulped her whiskey sour and then stood. "The whine bags are still eyeing this table. I'm going to get us another round. You know the beginning of the night starts off slow."
She took my glass and hers and left me for the bar.
I turned, seeing the girls staring at me, clearly hoping I would step away from the table. I wasn't about to stand up. Raegan would get the table back if they tried to take it, and that would only cause trouble.
When I turned around, a boy was sitting in Raegan's chair. At first I thought Travis had somehow made his way over, but when I realized my mistake, I smiled. Trenton Maddox was leaning toward me, his tattooed arms crossed, his elbows resting on the table across from me. He rubbed the five o'clock shadow that peppered his square jaw with his fingers, his shoulder muscles bulging through his T-shirt. He had as much stubble on his face as he did on the top of his head, except for the absence of hair from one small scar near his left temple.
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