by Ella Fields
Our food arrived, and thankfully, the subject changed to less frustrating topics. Such as movies, Game of Thrones, and the return to school the following week.
“What about Kayla?” I felt comfortable enough to ask, especially since he’d pried about Dash.
He twisted his lips, then sighed. “That got complicated for a bit, which is why I didn’t get in touch right after the party.”
What did that even mean? Judging by the sour pinch to his lips, I’d hit a nerve. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s done now. For good.”
“You had a fight?” While I didn’t mean to pry, I was here. On a date. With him.
He pushed his plate away, then stretched his arms up and over his head. If he was doing it to distract me, it was working. Muscles gathered and contracted in his arms as his fists opened and closed. He yawned, dropping his hands to his lap. “She’d heard about the party, came over to my place, and tried to start some shit.”
“Oh damn.”
Jerking his head, he grimaced. “She can get a little crazy. I wanted to make sure there was no blowback.”
“Blowback?”
He reached over the table, grasping my hand with his. Fingers warm and rough sent flutters pouncing around in my stomach. “I want to keep seeing you.”
“You do?”
His teeth grazed his lip. “Yeah, so I needed to make sure she knew we were done. Which meant fighting some more, and all that fun this is a real breakup stuff.”
I wouldn’t know, but I didn’t want or need to say that.
A warm smile nudged his lips. “Can I show you something?”
“Sure.”
He studied me a moment, and I sat enraptured by the curl of his lashes and the specks of gold in his eyes. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
He paid the bill, left a tip, and led me by the hand outside to the parking lot.
Opening my door, I went to climb up when I felt his hands land on my waist, and then I was in the air before my butt hit the seat with a puff.
I laughed, dazed as I tried to right my dress and keep the color of my panties a secret.
My laughter died when he carefully moved me to face where he was still standing in the door, and I saw the intent in his eyes a half second before he tipped my face up. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”
A nod, then his mouth descended. His lips were warm and tasted like barbecue sauce. I let him lead, feeling lightheaded as he pressed harder, hungrier, and pried my lips apart.
His tongue didn’t move in gentle, calculated, swipes or pokes. No, it delved deep, forcing my eyes open as I gasped and pulled back.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Heat crept up my neck, making a beeline for my cheeks. With the moment ruined, I dropped my head, defeated by the truth. “I haven’t exactly kissed a lot of people.”
“I know.”
My head shot up, brows puckering and my eyes searching.
“It’s not a bad thing.” His finger swept across my cheek. “You’re gorgeous, but when you blush, you’re damn near irresistible.”
I smiled, even as my cheeks reddened further. He was real. As real as the blood rushing faster through my veins.
This was happening.
After flashing a quick grin, he fused his mouth to mine for a brief, gentle touch.
His hand stayed in mine the whole ride home, but this time, the silence wasn’t awkward. It was a comfortable silence, and as I gazed out the window to the blurring summer colors of the cove, I couldn’t rid my smile if I tried.
We exchanged numbers before I got out, and I made it to the porch before my smile wilted.
Dash opened the front door right as Byron was pulling away, his truck grumbling down the quiet street.
Dash
“So what did he do, fine dine you with food you hate?” I leaned against the doorjamb, assessing the Barbie who’d taken over my best friend’s body.
What the fuck was that dress? Yeah, it looked great on her, hugging curves I didn’t even realize she’d had, but it wasn’t her.
“Move,” she said, tone crisp, and some juicy scented perfume permeating the air between us.
She wouldn’t look at me. In fact, her entire body seemed tense, coiled tight and ready to spring, but I didn’t give a fuck. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“And I’m not going to.” Her eyes met mine then, ice crystallizing the gray orbs. “Move.”
She was mad. At me. What the hell did Woods do that’d caused her to be upset with me?
“Did he touch you or something?”
Her long lashes, coated in a thick layer of mascara, butted against her brows. Then she shoulder checked me, pushing past to get inside.
She tried to shut the door, but I was in the way, and I wasn’t moving. “The fuck, Freckles?”
The screen door smacked shut behind me, and Peony looked up from the couch as Peggy breezed down the hall to her room.
“Did you have a good time?”
The slamming of Peggy’s bedroom door was her answer.
Peony looked at me, eyes narrowed, and I tipped my shoulders. “Don’t look at me. I just got here.” That wasn’t exactly true, and we both knew it. I’d been in her room for the better part of an hour, staring at the hairspray, clothes littering the bed, and the empty space on it where she should’ve been on a Friday night.
“She’d put a lot of stock into this date.” With her head shaking, she gave her attention back to the TV. “Fix it, Dash.”
Stock? I almost scoffed but gathered an ounce of self-control and went to Peggy’s room.
The door was locked, and I knocked, incredulity spiking my blood pressure. “Peggy, did you seriously lock me out?”
No answer.
I knocked harder. “Let me in or I’ll pick the lock.”
Three seconds passed before I sighed and fished out my keys, then the door opened. “Go home, Dashiell.”
“Dashiell?” I couldn’t remember the last time she’d called me by my full name. A name she knew I loathed. I stepped forward, uncaring that she wouldn’t move, and tried to read her flushed, tense expression. “What happened?” I tried to soften my voice. Tried. I should’ve gotten a damn merit award for effort considering the storm rising within me. It didn’t work.
“You happened.” She stepped back, and I walked into her room as she went to shut the door. “You warned the guys at school off me?”
“Warned them off you?” I reared back, trying to play dumb, but she saw right through it.
Tears glossed her eyes, turning her voice raspier. “Why would you do that?”
Fucking hell. She really was mad. Hot sauce in her shampoo kind of mad.
I concentrated on breathing for a beat, hating the way the sight of her tears made my chest ache. “You’re easy to take advantage of, Freckles. And believe me, they’d fucking take advantage.”
“They can’t take what I’m willing to give,” she seethed, her chest rising and falling in a way that had her tits straining, cleavage bared.
I swallowed and looked away, my words struggling to clear my gritted teeth. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t actually say that.”
“Well, I did. All this time, I thought you were just a little overprotective. All this time, I thought something might’ve been wrong with me.” I frowned, about to tell her she was stupid, when she almost knocked me on my ass. “Turns out that something isn’t me. It’s you.”
The ache in my chest started burning as though the organ in there might catch fire and disintegrate. I steeled my jaw and tried to push down the anger and injustice. “Did you kiss him?”
She threw her hands into the air. “Why the fuck do you care?”
“Peggy?” her mom called. “What’s going on?”
“It’s fine.” Peggy rubbed at her cheeks. “Sorry, Mom.”
And that was the crux of it, really. Why the fuck did I even care? I kept my voice low. “Because he’s
a fucking douchebag who’ll hang around long enough to fuck you, then ditch you.”
A bitter laugh fled past her glossed lips, and she stabbed a finger at me. “Pot meet kettle, you hypocritical asshole.”
She had me there, but this wasn’t about me. It was about her and her stupid decisions and crazy-ass tantrums. “What the hell has gotten into you?” It was like an alien had stolen my best friend. A sexy, angry, emotional alien, but an alien all the same.
She blew out a breath, then walked in small circles in front of her sticker-covered closet doors. “You don’t get it.”
I took a hesitant step forward. “Try me.”
“You’ve never had to worry about it, Dash. What it’s like to wonder if you’re not good enough.”
“Because I couldn’t give a flying monkey’s dick what people think of me.”
“Yeah,” she said, following up with a nod. “Well, not everyone is like you. I do care.” She stopped, tapping a finger at her heaving chest. “I care. I wanted to date. I wanted to experience what most other girls my age already have. But you had to be your typical controlling, selfish asshole self, leaving me to think that I’m not good enough …” She shook her head, swiping at a tear that’d raced down her cheek. “Just go home.”
A thousand cutting insults sat on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them, felt them slice deep, and stalked back through the house.
For untold minutes, I sat in my car and stared at a patch of their yard illuminated by their back porch light.
Once home, I parked behind Dad’s BMW and stayed there a moment, staring at it as I tried to shake off the bullshit that’d transpired. She’d be fine and hopefully back to her usual self by tomorrow.
A tapping on my window startled me, and I jerked out of my daze to find Dad’s face there. He gestured for me to put down the window. “You getting out of that thing? Because if you are, move it over first. I have a late dinner meeting.”
I turned the car on, shifted into reverse, and moved it behind Mom’s car.
“What’s eating you, boy?” Dad asked, leaning against his car and swinging his keys around his finger.
The familiar act made me cringe. Did I really take after him that much? As one of the best attorneys in the state, he was a dick, but every now and then, he’d make time to check on me if he was home.
“Nothing. Maybe that’s the problem.”
He chuckled, then smoothed a hand over the blond and gray hair atop his head. He’d recently turned fifty, though he looked at least ten years younger. “Your mother’s in a state, so I’d steer clear.”
“What’d you do this time?”
“Whatever the hell I want, as usual.” He opened the car door, winking at me as he slid inside the sleek interior. “Don’t buy yourself a wife, kid. Most are non-refundable.”
It was something he’d said to me countless times, and my response was always the same. “Noted.”
I walked inside to the sound of crashing and followed it down the hall to the kitchen.
In a sparkling golden gown, Mom sat on the floor, cutlery and broken plates decorating the tiles around her. Mascara blackened her cheeks, and even though I stood there for a solid minute, not once did she take notice of my presence.
Her problems were always too big.
And as I had enough of my own, I had no room to care about hers. Not that I ever did.
Peggy
I spread my sheets out before me on the dining table, but none of them were calling to me.
“Try the purple birds,” Willa said, opening her small traveling kit. “Paired with some white and the picture from the party, and the effect will be stunning.”
She was right. I pulled the purple sheet close to me and plucked up one of the pictures Willa had printed.
I hadn’t told them about my fight with Dash. I wasn’t sure why, but every time I tried, it felt like a betrayal. He was my best friend but so were Willa and Daphne. And though I’d easily talked about Dash with them before, this felt different. Big and far too scarily personal.
“Back to the important matter here,” Daphne said, squirting a dollop of glitter glue onto her page and grabbing a small brush. “He kissed you, and you clearly survived. So what was it like?”
“You’re so funny.” I rolled my eyes. “And it was, I don’t know, pretty nice?”
Willa snorted. “Butterflies? Toe curling? We need more than just nice.”
“There were flutters, yes.” I spread some glue onto the page, then fixed the photo onto it. “He’s a good kisser.” I wasn’t lying. I’d replayed the kiss over and over. It was a decent first kiss, if not a little too much. I couldn’t exactly be the judge of that, though.
“How did you know what to do?” Willa asked, not unkindly.
“It’s not exactly rocket science. You let them take the lead until you’re comfortable.”
I looked at Daphne, wishing I’d had some of her confidence. Maybe then I wouldn’t have felt inclined to kiss my best friend for practice. “You’ve done it, right?”
“It?” Willa asked.
I tried not to blush. “You know …”
Daphne narrowed her eyes. “Thanks for assuming.” My cheeks reddened, then she sighed. “Yeah, I have.”
“Willa?”
Her eyes widened comically. “Uh, no, I would’ve told you.”
“You’ve done other stuff, though.” Daphne took a sip of her lemonade.
I was glad Mom was out grocery shopping. She’d tried to talk about sex with me once, but when I’d kept laughing, she’d given up. I kind of regretted that now.
“I have.” Willa’s face was so red, I couldn’t help but think if I touched it, my skin would burn.
“You don’t want to elaborate?” I asked at the same time Daphne said, “With who?”
“I can’t say, so please …” Willa’s cheeks puffed. “Drop it.”
Daphne tapped the tip of her brush against the table as she stared at Willa. “This is going to bug me now. Why can’t you say?”
Willa shifted in her chair, and one of her hands trembled.
I decided to let her off the hook. “What should I expect next?”
Daphne turned to me, and Willa gave me a grateful smile. “Has he asked you out again?”
“Well, not exactly. But he implied that he wanted to.”
Daphne nodded. “He’ll probably save getting dirty until he gets you someplace private. So, if you’re not ready, don’t let that happen.”
“Dirty?” I asked.
“You know, take you through all the bases.”
I nodded, trying to absorb all that would mean. I was ready, though. At least, I thought I was. I didn’t have to love him to experiment and have fun with him.
“You want to do more with Byron?” Willa asked.
“Yeah, I mean,” I blew a curl from my face, “I want to know what it’s like, and Byron’s really sweet.”
Daphne beamed at me. “Our little Pegs is growing up.”
I flicked some pink confetti at her. “Shut up.”
A little while later, after Mom got home, we began cleaning up. “Pegs, you do know Dash has been in your room since I got home, right?”
Dash hanging out here wasn’t exactly news to Daphne and Willa. They knew he came and went as he pleased. But the fact he hadn’t made his presence known raised brows.
I forced a smile. “He can wait a few minutes.”
“I need to get home.” Willa shut her kit, drained the last of her lemonade, then set the glass down. “Bye, Peony.”
Daphne joined her, waving over her shoulder.
“Okay.” Mom wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, watching them walk off with her head tilted. “Bye girls.”
Mom grabbed my shoulder before I could leave the room. “I’m cleaning it up.”
“Not that. Dash.” She hung the towel up. “What happened Friday night? It sounded like you guys had a fight.”
Her voice was quiet, but with or without Dash bein
g here, I still didn’t want to talk about it.
“He’s just being his usual self. Interfering and too bossy.” I tried to play it off, but I knew she could tell it was more than that this time.
Even so, she let it go with a nod. “I picked up the last of your uniforms today.”
“Thank you.” I couldn’t believe my last summer as a high school student had passed, and we’d be back in school the next day. It seemed I’d been waiting years to become a senior and experience this magical turning point that would help shape the course of my life. And now that it was finally here, my confidence and excitement had vanished.
“They’re still in the car, but I’ll iron them later and bring them to your room.”
Dad gave us a credit card years ago. There was no way Mom could afford to send me to Magnolia Cove Prep without his help. As it stood, he paid for the ghastly yearly tuition, supplies, and had even said he’d buy me a car. Mom drew the line at that, seeing as Dash took me to school on most days.
But my eighteenth birthday was right around the corner, and I hoped that he’d ignored her. I didn’t want to rely on Dash anymore.
It was surprising to some that Mom and Dad were amicable, considering he still loved her. When I’d asked, he’d stated he was too old to try to keep someone who didn’t want to be kept. He’d respected Mom’s decision to have her own life, as well as her honesty, no matter how much it’d pained him when she decided to leave him.
He’d never remarried. Though I knew at fifty-six that wasn’t likely in the cards, I still wanted him to be happy.
When the table was spotless, and I figured I’d ignored the devil in my room long enough, I squared my shoulders and decided to get it over with. It was my freaking room, after all. He didn’t get to make me avoid my own personal space.
He was playing the Xbox, his boots kicked to the floor, and his eyes bloodshot.
“Are you stoned?”
“Who cares if I am?”
I shook my head and shut the door. “What are you doing here?”
He cursed as his player died and then tossed the controller aside. “School is starting tomorrow. This tantrum needs to stop; it’s been forty-eight hours.”
“I haven’t been counting.” I moved to my desk, pushing some magazines aside to set my box back in the corner.