Page 6

Chapter Six

Vivienne

“ Y ou’re not going to sleep all day after what you pulled last night,” my father’s voice penetrates the ache in my skull, sinking right into my sore, overworked brain.

I blink one eye open but immediately close it because the room is way too bright. “Turn off the light,” I croak, discovering my voice hoarse and my throat sore.

“It’s not a light, Vivienne Lucille, it’s the sun pouring in the window. And the sun is pouring in because it’s eight o’clock in the morning.”

He says it like eight is actually noon is disguise, but he’s also got that angry flare in his voice. The flare he uses when he’s on a work call and someone has overstepped, the same tone he takes with subordinates he punishes.

Cautiously, I open my eye again, and this time, force the other eye open. Blinking several times, my father finally comes into focus. Standing at the foot of the bed in a black tracksuit, his hands are on his hips, his face scrunched up in displeasure.

What happened last night? I want to ask, but I’m afraid he may not know that anything happened, and I don’t want to give myself away.

“I’m sorry,” I say, putting out feelers. “I stayed out too late, I was having too much fun. I’m just so tired.”

He narrows his eyes, his internal lie detector being put to the test. A memory flashes behind my eyes, one of Brooke and I shopping, then a flash of flames as the bonfire comes back to me. Reed. Oh my god . I had sex last night. I lost my virginity on the beach.

I swallow thickly as my dad surveys me, his stare making me anxious. I push myself up in the bed, back against the headboard, trying my hardest to act tired, not hungover.

I’m lying to my dad this morning, and I lied to him last night. I hate it, but when a memory hits of Reed kissing me between my legs, I know the lies were worth it. Last night was life changing.

“Who gave you a ride home? Hmm? Did you know Maribel waited up for your call only to discover you in your bed at 2 o’clock in the morning? She extended her trust to you, and you broke it.” His nostrils flare, and I think it’s the first time I’ve seen my dad really angry with me.

Tears well in my eyes. As much fun as I had last night, I don’t want to upset him.

“Brooke,” I lie, or at least, I think I’m lying. The awful truth is, I don’t remember how I got home. “She gave me a ride. It was almost midnight, I didn’t want to wake you guys.” I sit with the lie, waiting for him to shake the sieve and reveal what really happened.

A beat passes, and his features soften. “It’s…

okay. Just, don’t set a precedent, okay?

” He sits on the edge of the bed and grabs my foot over the covers.

“Your furniture is coming today, so we’ll get your room set up.

And it looks like you got some school clothes with Brooke,” he says, nodding to the pile of brightly colored shopping bags on the floor.

“C’mon, get dressed. Come down for breakfast.” He smiles, drifting toward the door, but stopping one more time.

“Harrison is home. You can meet him over breakfast.”

I curl my lip. “Harrison?” My head throbs from the vodka and beer.

My father’s face flashes impatience. “Maribel’s son.” He softens again, smiling. “See you downstairs.”

The water is hot, but the shower is a waste. I wash hastily, but the entire time, when I should be figuring out my story and trying hard to remember how I got home, I keep thinking about last night.

About Reed.

Reaching between my legs, I find myself sore to touch. It was real . Nothing was a dream. I really made love to a handsome man last night. One that said he’d remember that night forever, the same way I would.

I didn’t get his phone number, or at least I don’t think I did. And I don’t even know his last name. I get out of the shower, a towel wrapped around my head, another around my torso, and snatch my phone from the nightstand .

Quickly, I shoot Brooke a text, desperate for clarification, even if I embarrass myself.

How did I get home last night?

good morning to you, too

Reed

you don’t remember?

Did he walk me in? I woke up in my dad’s fiancé’s house, in the guest room. I don’t remember much.

I don’t know, girl. I wasn’t there. I just know he drove you home since you got pretty wasted. Then he texted me and told me you were home.

My dad knocks on the door. “Maribel just took the scones out. Are you ready to come down?”

“Uh, yeah, just got out of the shower. Getting dressed now.” Quickly I flip open the suitcase on the floor, grabbing a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt.

After dressing, I run a comb through my hair, twisting it into a bun.

A quick brush of my teeth–which nearly makes me hurl–I leave my phone on the bed with an unread message from Brooke, and head downstairs.

I owe Maribel an apology for not calling her and scaring her, and I owe my dad another apology because this was not the first impression I meant to make. She probably thinks I’m a brat trying to rebel against this move but that’s not what it is.

But since I can’t tell them that I saw the opportunity to finally have sex and took it, apologies are all I can give. And I will give them. I will enter that kitchen with the best smile and the best behavior I’ve had in my entire life.

And I’ll stop lying.

Definitely.

I take the stairs one by one, the world still a little spinny around me as I crawl toward sobriety.

As I make it to the hall, the smell of fresh pastries and strong brewed coffee hits my nose, making my stomach roll.

I hadn’t considered how hard it would be to fake not being hungover at breakfast. Maybe I’ll just talk so much no one will notice I don’t eat.

No, that won’t work. Man, getting drunk is not all it’s cracked up to be.

Turning the corner I enter the kitchen, finding Maribel standing at the island, a white apron tied to her torso, her makeup perfect, hair styled. Her eyes lift from the pan of scones and she brings her hands together, a wide smile painting her face. “Oh, Vivienne, good morning.”

I lift my hand. “Good morning,” I say, returning her kind smile.

Clearing my throat, I launch into my apology, because the truth is, I don’t want to be a problem for Maribel.

“Maribel, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am about last night. I thought waking you seemed cruel since Brooke offered to drive me back. But I realize you worried, and I’m so sorry for that. ”

Her head droops to the side, a lazy smile playing at her lips. “Vivienne, that’s okay. I mean, thank you for your apology but I understand. It was your first evening with your new friend. You lost track of time. I get it.”

“Good,” I breathe out a breath of relief, glad to have that out of the way.

The more I stand, the more I realize I need to sit, so I turn to face the table and my heart stops.

I think it actually stops. Or maybe my brain stops working for a second.

I don’t know. All I know is that I completely, utterly and totally freeze.

“What the–why are you here?” I spit out, narrowing my eyes at Reed, sitting at the table with a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Viv,” my father scolds, using his embarrassed but stern tone, the same one he used when I barged in on a Zoom call once screaming about a spider on my ceiling and he told me to step outside. I look at Maribel, who looks both concerned and puzzled.

Reed stands, pulling a chair at the table out, extending his arm like he’s inviting me to sit.

My dad comes to my side, grooves of concern etched into his forehead. “Vivienne, this is Harrison, Maribel’s son.”

I look at Reed, his eyes already on me. Our gazes lock, but his face gives absolutely nothing away. He lifts his hand, adjusting his glasses, and both greedily and annoyingly, my eyes slide to the swell of his bicep, the same arm that captured my horny attention yesterday in downtown Bipal.

“Hello Vivienne, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, dipping his head and outstretching his hand. The same hand that had smears of my blood on it just hours ago. I look between my father and Maribel, trying to find some way to explain my reaction without putting myself deeper in the doghouse.

“I’m sorry I—” I look at Reed, nostrils flaring, heart palpitating. “There was this guy lingering around Arcane’s last night. At first glance I just thought–”

Maribel saves me, bless her soul. “You’re new. So many new faces. So much change. I completely understand.” She treads across the kitchen, tray of scones in hand, and pats her son’s cheek. “The more you look at him, though, the more you’ll see, there’s only one boy as handsome as my Harrison.”

Harrison? He uses a fake name? No. I mean, yes ?

That’s crazy. You don’t use a fake name unless you’re up to no good.

Why would Harrison call himself Reed? Did he know who I was?

I mean, Brooke said he brought me home so obviously he knew who I was.

I take a sip of the coffee my dad pours for me, even though it sounds putrid and I’m already starting to sweat.

Still, I feel like I need to buy myself some time to process.

Reed– eh, Harrison –seems completely unfazed by all of this. What the hell?

He nudges his glasses up his nose, our eyes locked together in electric silence that must permeate the quiet between us because my father clears his throat. “How was your evening, Vivienne?”

Pouring the mini carafe of cream into my coffee, I stir slowly, my eyes on the surface as the onyx transforms to the color of peanut butter. “Good.”

“Did you meet anyone that attends Dulce?” Maribel asks, pushing scones onto everyone's plates as my dad settles into a chair adjacent to me.

Finally, I tear my gaze away from Reed, but only because I can’t think straight when I look at him. Maybe that’s what happened last night. Maybe his eyes are just so intoxicating that they scramble the brains of otherwise smart young women. I don’t know.

Last night was special. I’d hoped, deep down, to see Reed again.

To stumble upon him one day while shopping downtown, at the most unexpected moment, neither of us anticipating the run in but both of us thriving off of its existence.

He’d look over his shoulder as we walked away, and I’d watch him go.

Later we’d reconnect. We’d discover how much more we had in common than what we talked about on the beach that one night.

We’d fall in love. And the man who was my first would become my only, and my last.

I didn’t expect to see him at the kitchen table at my soon to be step mom’s house.

I didn’t expect to lose my virginity to my… step brother.