Mostly.
I spend the rest of the day getting ready, starting with a long soak in the bath followed by a shower to shave, exfoliate, and wash my hair. After, I rub lotion all over my body and picture it’s Vaughn’s hands on me instead.
I wait for my renegade thoughts to bring guilt, but they don’t, so I picture him kneeling in front of me with his tongue and fingers in my most intimate places, and I’m turned on. Restless and needy. I sit on the edge of the bathtub and spread my legs. I haven’t touched myself in a long time. I’ve never watched, that’s for sure, but the mirror across from me gives me a perfect view. And I’m suddenly curious. I’m seeing myself through Vaughn’s eyes. I reach over and grab the vibrator Brit included in my summer house-sitting survival kit. With a push from my finger the device turns on, and I put it over my clit. The contact fires up all my nerve endings, lifts me to the brink of release within seconds, and I realize I’ve been hovering there since Vaughn dropped to his knees and put his mouth on me. I’m beyond overdue for an orgasm and can have one like this, but I want more. I need… I take my free hand and slowly slide a finger inside, imagining it’s him. It’s not the same. Not enough. I add a second finger and concentrate on the memory of him doing this—the way he circled, and then pushed deeper. I linger, repeating those motions, stroking and playing while I fantasize about him doing the honors. Experimenting in ways I wouldn’t normally, but I think he might. I visualize him moving inside me, searching. Searching for…oh God, that spot right there, and then, holy shitnuts, I come so hard I sink to the floor.
Through the very last spasm, I picture Vaughn.
If my daydreams are this powerful, I can only imagine what the reality might be like. My entire body heats at the thought.
I stand and walk on shaky legs into my room. Clothes are strewn all over the bed, indecision still weighing on me. Last week I did some shopping, but I can’t decide which of those purchases to wear tonight. Because it’s on top, I wiggle into a short purple sundress, and then eye my reflection in the full-length mirror. It’s summery and sexy in an understated way. Would the little black halter dress be better? I wish one of my sisters were around to offer an opinion.
As if I have my very own fairy godmother on speed dial, I hear a door slam, followed by footsteps on the stairs. I walk out to the landing to find Amber coming up, lost in thought. Looks like unwelcome thoughts, judging by the way she’s gnawing her lip and frowning into space. I apply the brakes and prepare to put my body in reverse. Now is not the time to hit her up with a fashion emergency.
But I’m not quick enough. She spies me. “Oh, hey.” She slips the small bag in her hand into the outside pocket of her purse. “Didn’t see you there.” Her steps speed up as she approaches the landing, but then she pauses and looks me over. “Cute dress. That color’s great on you.”
The unsolicited compliment bolsters my courage. “You think?” I pluck at the skirt. “I’m trying to decide between this and a black dress.”
“What’s the occasion?” She heads toward my room.
“I’m going out with Vaughn.” I double step to catch up with her, then almost plow into her when she abruptly stops.
She turns. “As in, a date?”
“Yes.”
“Whoa.” Her eyes go wide. “Really? Dixie insisted you’d taken some kind of vow of celibacy.”
My sisters know I got into an auto accident with my boyfriend during my senior year, but no details. They don’t know the whole situation.
“No vow,” I say. “Vaughn asked me out and I said yes. As to where it leads…we’ll see.”
“Sure you want to stress the dress?” She walks over to my bed. “Underwear might be the thing to put the effort into.”
“I’m not wearing any,” I joke. But as long as she’s here, I pick up the black dress and hold it in front of me. “Which one says, ‘I dare you to find out’?”
Amber tilts her head and taps her finger against her upper lip. “The black one is all-out sexy, and makes your blond hair pop, but honestly?”
“Yes, please.”
“I think it’s a little too straightforward for you. I don’t mean that in a bad way. I’m just saying it’s more Dixie than Kendall. You know?”
I do. I toss it aside and study myself in the mirror again.
Amber comes up behind me. “The purple plays up your eyes. Plus the keyhole neckline is unique and a little naughty.”
“That’s perfect for a first date, right?”
“You ask me this with a straight face after admitting you’re not wearing underwear?” She turns her head and scans the few pieces of jewelry on the dresser. “Besides, this isn’t really your first date. Open mic night was your first date. His birthday party was date number two. So that makes this date number three. As for the dress, I like it with these.” She hands me the diamond drop earrings my parents gave me for graduation.
I take them from her and work them into my ears. Via the mirror, I smile at her. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She grins back.
My gaze strays to my nightstand, and I spy the pills she left for me. “By the way, thanks for the painkillers. I didn’t need them, but it was thoughtful of you.”
She notices where my attention has wandered. “I didn’t leave them.”
Huh. “If you didn’t, then that means…”
Amber lifts one corner of her mouth. “I guess Dixie’s good for more than just giving headaches. I texted her last night and told her you had a migraine. She must have dropped them off.”
“Well, that’s certainly…” Mind-blowing? “…unexpected. They’re probably not painkillers at all. They’re probably poison.”
She laughs. “Actually, I think having sisters around is growing on her. When I talked to Matt at the party yesterday, he told me after her open-mic performance, she got flustered when the guys told her we’d come to see her sing.”
“Really? All I got from her was a snide comment about us leaving early and missing the real fun.”
“Of course you did. She’d swallow her tongue before admitting the truth out loud, but we know better. She liked that we showed. The whole I-don’t-need-anybody ’tude is a big, fat act. We all need someone sometimes.”
“Dixie might be the exception to the rule. You have to admit she’s got the don’t-need-anybody act down pat.” I close the clasp of a purple bead bracelet and jiggle my arm until it rests low on my wrist.
“She’s had a lot of practice. Oh, pretty. The bracelet totally completes your outfit.”
“Thanks again for your help.”
“No problem. Have fun tonight.” Her wide smile fades a notch. “But if you think you might have FUN-fun, make sure you’re prepared. Dixie’s probably got—”
“What do I probably have?” sister number three interrupts, stepping into my room and holding something out to Amber. “Besides your credit card. You left this in the car.”
“Gracias.” Amber pockets the card before going on, “You probably have condoms. Kendall’s going out with Vaughn tonight.”
Dixie studies me for a moment before she digs around in the oversized bag hanging from her shoulder. “Since when did I become the freaking condom fairy?” she mutters.
My face starts to heat. “I don’t need condoms. I don’t sleep with a guy just because he asks me out. I think that’s more your style.” The last part comes out harsher than I intended, but we’ve strayed into very personal territory, and I’m not sure I’m comfortable going there.
Dixie looks at me like I’m nuts. “Even going by whatever good-girl checklist you use, this is a no-brainer. He’s given you a classy gift.” She drops a condom onto my bed. “He’s spent the requisite amount of time getting to know you.” Another condom lands on my comforter. “He’s springing for dinner.” A third small foil square joins the others. “You’re into him, and for whatever reason, he’s into you, too. What are you holding out for?”
My face heats further under her scrutin
y. Dammit, I should have just said “thanks.”
Suddenly Dixie’s eyes widen. “Oh. My. God. Is perfect princess Kendall a virgin?”
Her voice contains more shock than scorn, but it doesn’t matter. Something inside me snaps. I pick a condom off the bed and hurl it at Dixie. “I am not perfect.” The small missile bounces off her shoulder. I hurl another. “I’m nobody’s princess.” This one hits her chest before falling to the carpet. “And the reason I’m still a virgin is because…” All at once tears are choking me. Somewhere in a different part of my brain I see Amber and Dixie staring at me like I’ve suddenly started molting, and in a way I have.
“…of Mason.” The facade I’ve hidden behind for the last several years cracks apart, and I’m not sure what’s going to emerge.
“Are you two still together?” Amber asks. “I didn’t realize.”
I shake my head, swallowing the bitter taste in the back of my throat. It’s time for me to set the record straight. That I want to share the truth is a huge step, one I’m not going to second guess. “We had plans that night to lose our virginity.”
“Prom, right?” Amber says. “Same night you guys got in the accident.”
Again, I nod. “What you don’t know is that we’d both been drinking, I was the one driving, and he never…h-he never fully woke up.”
For a long moment there’s not a sound in the room except my labored breaths. Then Amber murmurs, “Oh, Kendall.” She takes my arm and guides me to the bed.
My legs give out and I drop down. She sits beside me.
“Hold up.”
I wince at Dixie’s words and impatient tone. She stands in front of me and crosses her arms. “You’ve been blaming yourself for what happened to Mason this whole time?”
I blink away tears so I can pull her into focus. “I was the one driving his truck.”
“You were both drinking that night, right? Why did you get behind the wheel of his vehicle?”
“He…” I sniff and wipe my nose as memories play through my mind. “He said he’d had more to drink than me.”
“So you both made the choice to roll the dice. You both took the gamble. End of story.”
“It’s not that simple,” I answer automatically.
“I didn’t say it was simple. But it’s the truth,” Dixie retorts. “He got into the car, knowing the risks, and he owns that choice. It’s not all on you. Neither of you should have driven anywhere, but the fact that you were behind the wheel doesn’t make you the only one who made a crappy decision. I never met Mason, but if he loved you half as much as you apparently loved him, he wouldn’t lay all the blame at your feet. He wouldn’t want you to stay tied to him like this and deny yourself a personal life as some useless penance.”
I’m too stunned to respond. Dixie doesn’t usually give a flying fuck about my feelings. She wouldn’t waste a single breath on absolution. Not for me. But she’s a big believer in owning your own shit, and she’s the first person to call me out for taking on Mason’s. Would he blame me? I like to think he wouldn’t, but if he could see himself now? I don’t know.
“You made a mistake.” Amber says. “You drank too much, and you made a mistake. And yes, sometimes mistakes affect other people even when you meant no harm. But Kendall, everyone makes mistakes.”
I sniff again and wipe my cheeks. “Not like mine.”
“No,” she quietly agrees. “Not like yours, but…” A long inhale tells me she’s working up to something. “I know what it’s like to make a reckless decision that ends up having long-term consequences you never intended.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Nevermi—”
“Amber,” I plead. “If you really don’t want to keep going, I understand, believe me, I understand, but I’d like to know what you were going to say.”
She blows out a breath then speaks to the floor. “I spent my whole college career focused on my studies. I had my eye on graduate school, and I refused to get distracted. While other people went to parties, I went to the library. All the effort paid off, because by the time I started my last semester I’d already been accepted to grad school. I had my housing, financial aid, and scholarships lined up. After my last final I decided to celebrate. I went out, drank way too much, and hooked up with some guy I’d never met.”
“I call that a typical Friday night,” Dixie quips.
“Yeah, except the condom fairy didn’t visit me that night and now…” She reaches into her purse, digs into the drugstore bag, and tosses a pill bottle onto my comforter.
I read the label upside down. Vitamins. P-r-e-n-a-t-a-l vitamins. What the what?
“Holy shit.” Dixie takes a step back, her focus dropping to Amber’s stomach. “You’re pregnant?”
My gaze zooms there, too, while my thoughts scatter like leaves in a windstorm. Finally, I catch one. “Did you tell the father?”
“I don’t know who he is. We didn’t exchange names.” She covers her face with her hands. “I have a vague memory of long, dark hair and a goatee, but that might be Captain Morgan. I went to the bar with my roommate. She says we parted ways around midnight, and I stumbled into our apartment around two. Were it not for the Uber charge I wouldn’t even know how I got home.”
“Are you going to—” Dixie breaks off, and then starts again. “It’s totally your decision, and I make no judgments, but are you going to keep—”
“I’m having the baby,” she whispers. “What happens from there, I haven’t decided yet, but I have some time to weigh those options.” She drops her hands, and I can see the resolve in the set of her chin. “That’s why I can’t go home. My mom and stepdad wouldn’t understand. Being pregnant outside of marriage goes against their beliefs. I’m an adult and this is my call, but”—she lifts a shoulder and lets it fall—“I shouldn’t live under their roof if I’m not prepared to abide by their rules.”
“You don’t have to explain,” Dixie says. “I moved out of my mom’s house the minute I turned eighteen. So they don’t know?”
“Not yet. I’ve told only Aunt Sally, who immediately insisted I spend the summer here.” She glances at Dixie and then me. “And now you two.”
Dixie crouches until she’s eye level with Amber. “Whatever you need, you know you’re not in this alone, right? You’ve got Aunt Sally, Uncle Jack…”
“And us,” I add, placing my hand over Amber’s fist.
“And us,” Dixie agrees, and stacks her hand on mine.
Chapter Thirteen
Kendall
Twenty minutes later, I’ve almost wrapped my head around the conversation with my sisters. “Sometimes things happen for a reason,” I say to the framed picture of my aunt and me on my nightstand just before the doorbell chimes. I double-check the condoms are in my handbag then hurry downstairs. Stopping in the entryway, I tell Snow to chill before I smooth my hands over my hair, catch my breath, and steel myself against the visual orgasm that is Vaughn Shaughnessy.
When I open the door, though, the mental cold shower fails. He is so much hotter in person. Snow obviously agrees, because I swear the excited noise she’s making sounds like a purr.
“Wow,” he says, raking his eyes over my sundress. His gaze lingers on the keyhole at my chest. It’s a rather large keyhole. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he fires back. “You look amazing. Ready to go?”
“Yes, thanks. You look amazing, too.” And effortlessly gorgeous from every angle. I close the door behind me.
It takes only a few minutes to arrive at our destination, a cute restaurant just off the beaten path. The hostess greets Vaughn like he’s a regular and leads us to a table. As usual, his nearness clouds my head. My pulse races.
The room is dimly lit and decorated in rich, dark colors. Our small corner table with a bench seat is semi-private. I sink into the pillows at my back as I look over my menu. When the waiter stops to take our order, we both ask for
steaks, his with fries, mine with a baked potato.
As the waiter retreats, Vaughn turns to me. “So, you’re a virgin.”
I almost choke on a swallow of water. “’Fraid so,” I manage, and set the glass down.
“Virginity pledge?”
“No.” It’s so far off base I actually smile. “Is this your idea of interesting dinner conversation?”
He’s utterly complacent as he shrugs. “I’m interested. Very interested. Religious reasons?”
I shake my head. “No again.”
“Just haven’t met the right guy?”
My smile wilts. We’ve reached a conversational cliff. The next step is going to be a doozy. I tip my head to the side and look him in the eye. “You sure you want to know?”
He takes my hand. “I’m sure. You can tell me anything, Kendall. You can trust me.” Then his expression kind of freezes, and his fingers squeeze mine. “Shit. I’m a dumbass. Somebody hurt you.”
Once again, his concern makes me feel like a fraud, but this time I have to speak up instead of running away. “No. Nothing like that. I hurt somebody.” My chin trembles, and there’s a painful clog in my throat, so instead of elaborating, I pinch my lips together and wipe the corner of my eye with my free hand.
“Tell me,” he whispers.
I’m not sure if it’s a question or a request, but the patient words push us closer to the point of no return. Even though I’m terrified he won’t be there when I land, it’s a risk I’m ready to take. If I keep holding Vaughn at arm’s length he’ll definitely back off. There was a time I never shied away from people, and I miss that girl. If I tell him the truth he’ll either think I’m an awful person and this will be the last time I see him, or…
He’ll understand.
“I was seventeen when I got a DUI,” I say quietly.
His breath hitches before his hold on my hand tightens. The gesture gives me the courage to continue before I lose my nerve.
“It was after prom. My boyfriend, Mason, and I were both drunk—everybody was, not just us, and maybe that made it harder for us to realize how wasted we were. We never should’ve gotten in his car, but we’d made these big, romantic plans to spend the night at a hotel and finally, you know”—I clear my throat—“commit to each other in the one way we’d been saving.”
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