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Let me ask you something, and be completely honest with me. I won’t even get mad.
The responsible thing would have been to not go to the Sawyer mansion that night, right?
Damn it. I knew better than this. I should have listened to you.
Do you see that girl sitting in her car in the valet drive of their mansion? The one parked next between the neon green Ducati and black Ford Raptor? The one nervously chewing on her already short orange nails?
That’s me and I’m thinking this is a bad idea. The lastpartyI attended at the Sawyer mansion was when I was seventeen after the X Games, where at just seventeen years old himself, Tiller had won a gold medal. That’s the night I ended up completely naked in the hot tub with Tiller. I almost had sex with him, but my insecurities, and the fact that there were over a hundred people around us, weighed on me and I told him no. We did other things, and he got off that night for sure, but even wasted, Tiller understood the meaning of no and left anything we did up to me.
“I can do this,” I tell myself when I see Tiller standing in the driveway, his shoulder in a sling, and wearing board shorts. That’s all. They land so deliciously low on his hips that heat courses through my center.
Nobody should look that good.
You’re wondering where River is, right? Don’t worry. She’s not with me.
Tracy, who’d been helping me at the event tonight took her home. Said after the date disaster, I deserved a second chance at freedom for a night. And if I was with Tiller, there’d be no chance of him ruining the night, right?
Hardly. I feel so guilty for leaving her again that I’m tempted to leave.
Tiller, impatiently waiting on the porch, gives me a nod and screams, “Get in here!”
With a deep breath of preparation, I exit my car and lock it. Roan, Tiller’s older brother, is here tonight and is known for getting drunk and stealing cars for joyrides. He once “borrowed” my car and I found it in Los Angles at a strip club two days later. Don’t ever leave your keys visible either. He’ll find them.
The walk to the front of the house is done on shaky legs and me fidgeting with my lilac, a few shades lighter than my hair, sundress to smooth out the wrinkles. The warm summer Southern California night hits my face, along with the distant stench of burning wood from the wildfires. My eyes burn and the sky gives off a hazy gray appearance.
Tiller stands before me, his breathing heavy, eyes lazy-lidded. “Took you long enough.” I notice a beer bottle in the hand that’s not bandaged up.
“Should you be drinking with pain pills?”
“No, but when has that ever stopped me?” He slings his good arm around my shoulder and leads me in the house.
I hand my keys to Scarlet. For good reason, she’s collecting them at the front door.
I’ve met Scarlet a few times, but I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation with her. She’s got this wild mess of blonde curls that do their own thing and match her personality perfectly. And though I’ve only met her a few times, I can tell I love her spirit already.
Her bright sky-blue eyes land on my face, and I know she’s smiling before my eyes even land on her full lips. “You’re Amberly Johnson, right?”
I nod, and she seems excited, like I’ve told her she’s won the lottery. “Well shit, girl. It’s nice to meet the only chick Tiller’s ever liked.”
Tiller leans into her, but never removes his arm from around my shoulder and he brushes his cheek against Scarlet, like a cat does when it rubs up against your leg. “That’s not true. I like you, Northwest.”
One minute he’s charming and the next you want to drown him.
“You gonna share?” Roan asks, winking at me as he leans casually into the door frame.
Tiller shoves Roan away from me. “Fuck your bad vibes, bro.”
Roan laughs. “Fair is fair,bro.”
These two have a history of hostility. I’ve never known a time when Roan and Tiller were nice to each other. Roan almost drowned in the pool out back once and Tiller did nothing to help him. To this day, Tiller claims he didn’t realize he wasn’t joking, but when the paramedics carted Roan away and he had to spend a few nights in the hospital, Tiller never went and saw him.
“Why do you hate him so much?” I ask Tiller.
He shrugs. “Never said I hated him.” And then he whispers in my ear, keeping his eyes locked on his brother, “I fucked his girl and he’s pissed about it.”
I’m not at all surprised, and though the thought of him with someone else sends a pang of sadness to my heart, I know Tiller has been around. “You’re hard to swallow at times.”
Scarlet rolls her eyes. She knows exactly where Tiller’s going with this one when he chuckles and gives me that dirty smirk he’s so damn good at. “If you’re good at swallowing, I got a mouthful for you.”