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My mom goes on a few dates, they’re all douchbags if you ask me. Becca and Harper get in a car accident. They’re fine but Becca’s charged with a DUI and dad is pissed beyond belief. Harper moves in with him in Atlanta, but I stay with my mom. Hazel has a baby with a football player I’ve never met but see on TV sometimes. I become an aunt to a little boy I’ve never met. Calder Wesley. Hazel’s not married, and dad definitely doesn’t approve of her superstar boyfriend not putting a ring on it.
I turn eighteen and while I think independence will follow, my dad sinks his teeth into his iron grip on the last Hayes girl. He shows up my senior prom to take pictures and asks who I’m going with.
“Just friends,” I lie. I’m not going to tell him about the lowered Ford waiting for me three blocks away, or the anticipation in my chest. I’m eighteen, tonight might be the night and Ender swears he’s bringing a condom this time.
I don’t know if my dad believes me, and I know my mom doesn’t, but I leave the house, sneak through the neighbors back yard and down a side street to where his black Ford is sitting, lights off.
With my heels clicking on the South Georgia pavement, I touch my hand to the warm metal door handle only to see him open his door and get out.
He lets out a low whistle. “Ladies dressed in black don’t open their own doors.”
My hands shake and I smile, fidgeting with the strap of my dress as he comes into view, his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks. I’m gonna take a minute here and try to catch my breath because holy freaking shit, Ender James in a black tux, drool worthy. I don’t think I can accurately describe it.
“Goddamn….” He blows out a breath and leans into the fender, a street light above us casting warm orange glow on his face. He’s perfection. Dark hair falls into his eyes and he smirks, sighing. “You’re fucking beautiful, Hads.”
I step closer to him and notice a cut on his cheek, bruising under his right eye and blood in the white of his eyeball. “You look different fully clothed.”
Pressing his lips to my shoulder he holds me as we lean into his truck. “We could lose the clothes.” His hand runs up my spine, dancing along the curve of my back.
I touch my hand to his face. “What happened?”
He blinks and his face holds emotion he doesn’t want me to see. His brow furrows, digging deep. He doesn’t answer me.
“Ender,” I breathe, tears stinging my eyes, hating the pain in his eyes I can’t take away. I have a feeling this bruise is from his dad, but he’s not going to come out and say it. He never has.
“Don’t…” he sighs, dropping his head forward. “It’s nothing.”
“Why does he do this to you?”
Ender’s jaw tightens. “Let’s take you to prom so I can spend the rest of the night with my mouth on your pussy.”
I blush and slide my hands to behind his head and bring my lips to his. It’s the first kiss we’ve shared in months. He groans, holding me tighter and angles his head to deepen the kiss as he glides his tongue inside my mouth. I eagerly take it, inching up on my tippy toes.
“Okay.” Ender pulls away, chuckling. “If we don’t stop, I’m never getting you there.”
“Oh, you’ll get me there.” I laugh, fanning my face and stepping back.
He tips his head back and the sexiest groan leaves his lips. “You’re killing me.”
I place my hands on his chest. “Take me to prom, Ender.”
He takes one of my hands from his chest, his fingers curling around it. “You realize I’ve never taken a girl on a date before.”
I stare at him, stunned. “You haven’t?”
“Nope. This is definitely a first for me.”
“It’s kinda nice to be one of your firsts,” I admit.
A soft smile settles on his lips and he leans in, his lips at my ear. “You’ve had more than you know.”
* * *
Everything I knowabout Ender has been through experience on the lake or what Arya tells me. He doesn’t open up much. I know his favorite color is black, he doesn’t listen to rap music, and if he had a choice, he’d play baseball every day of his life.
But I don’t know what he’s like at school, or if he’s the most popular guy. I don’t know how many girls he’s dated, who he’s had sex with, or what firsts I’ve given him. Maybe I’m too afraid to ask, but an hour into my senior prom, if Ender James had gone to my school, every single girl would have been falling at his feet.
“Did you go to your prom?” I ask, not knowing. I don’t think he went, but I don’t know for sure.