Page 3 of Tied up in Knots (Gummy Bear Orgy #4)

Thinking of her as a sister would be incestual

I’ve been waiting half my life for this. When I’m finally ready to leave Homer, Alaska and make a life, a better life, somewhere else. I know Owen, Izzy, and Bambi don’t want me to go, but they don’t understand. They don’t know what it’s like to be so suffocated by a place that it drives you crazy.

Most of that is because of my family. Having an abusive drunk as a father and complacent nitwit as a mother doesn’t make the best environment for a child.

Because of that I became known as a wild child around town.

I’ve been arrested a number of times for minor things; public indecency, joy riding, public intoxication, speeding, vandalization, noise complaints.

Basically, anything fun. I’ve racked up a decent rap sheet here and become more than familiar with the sheriffs in town.

Something that I can finally escape when I leave.

They see me and assume I’m doing something wrong and pull me over or question me without cause.

I’ve gotten used to it, but it’s still fucking irritating.

I’m surprised they didn’t pull Owen over on our way to the bar tonight.

I wasn’t driving but I was in the front passenger seat and that’s usually enough for them.

They probably heard about me leaving next week and figured they’d leave me be.

There are only a few people at the bar when we arrive, but within an hour practically everyone I’ve ever known is present.

Except for my parents, thank fuck. I doubt Owen even told them about tonight.

He knows I haven’t spoken to them in years.

Trying to keep your distance from problematic people in a town the size of Homer is doable but requires effort.

I put in the fucking effort. Jean and Isaac Graham are the last people I want to cross paths with while grocery shopping on a Wednesday afternoon.

A few high school friends are here, a couple of guys I’ve worked on the boats with, Owen, James, Izzy, Izzy’s parents and Gigi, of course, who’s been more of a mother to me than my own mother.

But Bambi is most definitely not my sister.

I may treat her like one sometimes but with the amount of X-rated thoughts I’ve had about her over the years, thinking of her as a sister would be incestual.

Not acting on those thoughts was the least I could do to protect her from my fucked-up life.

Besides, she’s far too good for me, just like my father said.

If there was ever one thing he told me that was true, it was that.

Being her friend is more than I could have hoped for and has been more than enough throughout the years.

Speaking of Bambi, I slide my index finger under the elastic hair tie on my wrist and snap it for good measure.

Stealing her hair ties became my little way of having a piece of her without getting to have her.

Not to mention it reminds me of my twisted desires and how if she ever discovered them, she would no doubt be disgusted by me.

I try to spot her in the bar, hoping to tease her a little more before not giving her hair tie back.

This bad boy is going right into my creepy stalker box with the rest of them.

She’s sitting at the bar, facing backwards so she can better talk to the people around her.

Her copper red hair is still hanging down straight just below her shoulders and she tucks a strand behind her ear while smiling politely at whatever someone said.

In the low light of the bar, her amber, green eyes appear more like caramel covered apples, her freckles less prominent.

There’s a half-drank beer in her hand, that I know is her first and will probably be her last. Bambi’s not much of a drinker, never has been.

I like that about her. I like a lot of things about her.

Like the fact that she always wears overalls.

They could be denim, pants, shorts, skirts, stretchy, anything and she wears them.

Tonight’s are turquoise corduroy. Sometimes I wished she wouldn’t wear them so frequently because they hide her body from me, but then I remind myself why I can’t have her and hate myself for a little while.

It doesn’t seem to stop me from looking forward to summer, when it’s finally warm enough to go swimming and I get to see her in her two-piece suit.

I shake my head to remove the image of Bambi in a bikini and force myself to participate in the celebration.

What I don’t do is go over to Bambi and pull her off the stool and place myself between her and Jordan, a kid from high school who’s being far too chatty with her tonight.

I’m not sure if my need to separate them is protective or possessive.

I try not to think about it and snap the hair tie on my wrist once more for good measure, compelling my body to turn and face Owen and Lexi, a local girl he has a casual thing with.

“So, where are you going first, Warren?” Lexi asks, effectively pulling me back into their conversation.

“Probably a coastal city, just for a night or two, like Seattle. But my first big stop will be Hawaii. After that I’ll head down through Central America and the Panama Canal.

I’ll probably stay down there for a while before coming back up to the states and checking out Texas and Florida.

Then I’ll hit the Bahamas and all the smaller island countries in that area. Puerto Rico and such.”

“Oh my god, that sounds so amazing. How long is that going to take you?” she asks, as if I have a day-by-day schedule of my trip planned out.

I don’t. I have no plans. Other than ports I can dock at in countries I want to visit, there are no plans on my books.

I’m letting the wind take me and guide me to where I should be.

Once I find a place that calls to me, I’ll make more permanent plans.

Until then I want nothing and no one guiding my path.

“As long as I want it to,” I say, giving her the abbreviated answer.

No one really wants to know why I’m doing what I’m doing. They all think it’s a whim, a flight of fancy that I’ll work out of my system then come home. They are so fucking wrong. I’ll never return to this city if I can help it.

The thought saddens me a little when I consider that means never seeing Owen, Izzy or Bambi again. Maybe I can convince them to come see me. To leave cold, boring Homer and visit the warmer, more tropical area I settle in.

That’s what I’m looking forward to most, sunshine and warmth.

Not that the cold bothers me, I grew up here, so it’s normal to me.

I even have a bit of Inuit in my blood, or at least, I think.

My parents weren’t big on family lineage, but ever since a friend of mine in high school bragged about his summer vacation to Hawaii, I haven’t stopped thinking about it.

Palm trees, coconuts, warm sun and warm water, sandy beaches that you want to lay out on all day long in nothing but a swimsuit, sometimes less. It sounds like heaven.

Picturing it always got me through the bad times.

The times when my dad was so drunk and belligerent he would go on rants, and I would get the brunt of it.

It was times like that I would sometimes escape to Owen’s house and crash on his couch.

There were many times I ended up at Gigi’s place too.

As soon as I bought my boat and started working and living on it, she let me dock it at her place so I wouldn’t have to pay to dock it somewhere else.

This meant I spent a lot of time with her and Bambi.

Why the fuck do I keep thinking about the past?

About Bambi and Gigi and Owen and everything I’ll be missing when I’m gone?

Is it because I’m finally going to leave this time?

My subconscious is trying to give me a guilt trip or something?

Well, it’s not going to work. I’m not staying.

I’ve been working towards this for too long to give it up now.

I order another beer and ignore when my mind starts to wander. Tonight is not about reminiscing, it’s about celebrating and looking to the future, not the past.

A few hours pass and some of the older crowd says their goodnights. One being Gigi. I wrap her in a tight hug when she wanders over to say goodbye, a few strands of her wispy white curls stick to my short beard as she pulls away. She pulls them out and smooths them down.

“I’ll see you tomorrow sweetheart. You enjoy your night, and remember if you ever decide to come back, you’re more than welcome to stay with me. I’m always in need of a strapping young man around the house,” Gigi plants a big kiss on my cheek, as she always does, and squeezes my shoulders.

She’s in her mid-sixties now and I have helped her out many times around the house, moving furniture, chopping wood, changing her oil. I am more than happy to do it for everything she’s done for me.

“Of course, Gigi. If I come back, I’ll make sure to come to your place first.”

“Damn right you better.”

I laugh and hug her again before watching her white head of hair wind through the late-night crowd at the bar. Before I can see her exit a fresh cold beer is placed in my hand and my attention is drawn away, back to the boisterous talk and laughter.

?

“Heeey man. This party is awesome. Are you having fun?” Owen drunkenly slurs an hour later, as he wraps an arm around my shoulders.

I have to hold him up by his waist to keep him from taking us both down. It’s not so much that he’s too drunk to stand, but because he’s flinging himself around like a beach ball. Owen steadies himself and stands up taller.

“Yes, Owen, I’m having a great time.”

“Good, because there’s someone here who would like to give you a going away present, if you know what I mean,” he loudly whispers while trying to wink at me but it’s more like slow blinking with both eyes.

“Is that so? And who would that be?”

I’m not completely opposed to a final romp in the sack before I go. I’ve had my share of fun times with a few local girls.

“Jenny.” He says her name like a fourteen-year-old girl talking about her crush at a slumber party.

Owen points not so subtly in Jenny’s direction where she’s watching me over the rim of her glass. Her Barbie pink lips wrapping around a thin straw and sucking.

Jenny’s not bad. Not clingy, discreet. She’s managed to indulge my kink a time or two.

Not to the extent that I want, but enough to satisfy my urge.

Bondage and shibari rope tying isn’t something most people understand.

They think tying the wrists to the headboard is kinky.

That’s barely a blip on my radar. But everyone has a limit and Jenny’s is a little higher than most.

I consider how the night would go if I were to go back to her place, because there’s no way I’m taking her to my boat.

I did that once before and learned that I get more shit talk from Bambi and Gigi when they witness the walk of shame.

So, going to the girl’s place and sneaking onto my boat in the middle of the night when everyone’s asleep, is best.

Bambi’s sullen face from earlier, when we were talking about me leaving, flashes in my mind and instantly douses any idea I have about going to Jenny’s tonight. I break eye contact with Jenny and turn back to Owen.

“No thanks. I think I’d rather be alone tonight. Lots to do tomorrow and all that.”

He barely hears my excuse before he’s guffawing, clearly not interested in why I’m saying no.

“Come on man, you never said no to Jenny before.”

Yeah, well that’s when she was paying me and helping to fund my boat refurbishment.

There was a time when I was willing to sell my “services” for a price.

I needed extra money to pay for my boat, and getting paid for something that I would do for free seemed like the fastest and easiest option.

It’s not something I’m proud of, and it’s definitely something I will never tell my best friends about.

I may have been willing to have sex for money but that doesn’t mean I was proud of it.

“Not interested man. If you’re so gung-ho about it, why don’t you go home with her? Better yet, take her and Lexi.”

Owen freezes and I can see his mind whirring trying to figure out the logistics of making that happen. Now that he’s got the idea in his head, he’s going to run with it. Especially since he’s drunk.

“You know, maybe I will. That’s not a bad idea.”

Owen unlatches from around my neck and dances in the direction of Jenny, a pretty brunette with curves I did enjoy wrapping in my rope.

For a moment I second guess my decision but know it’s for the best. I still have things I need to take care of before I go and only have six more days to do them in.

I can’t have any more distractions trying to stop me from leaving.

It's nearly midnight when I decide it’s time to call it a night. I’ve had my drinks and my fun and am now ready to head home and hit the sack. Since I rode with the now vanished Owen—maybe he managed to convince Jenny and Lexi after all—I’m going to be walking home.

I have no idea when Izzy and Bambi left, but they’re nowhere in sight when I start making my way out. I guess they must have taken off earlier and I didn’t notice. Losing sight of Izzy and James is one thing, they leave together all the time, but not saying goodnight to Bambi is another.

I’ll check her place over The Book Vault on my walk home.

Maybe she’ll still be up, and I can say a proper goodnight.

Why I feel the need to say goodnight when I’ll most likely see her tomorrow, I don’t dwell on.

It’d be too much for me to admit to myself and tonight is the last night I need to start deep contemplation.

I leave the bar and zip my coat around me, protecting me from the majority of the cold wind. It feels good against my heated face and neck after being inside the crammed bar all night.

It only takes me about ten minutes of walking before I’m passing by The Book Vault. Bambi’s apartment is directly above the store and has street facing windows. I check them for any lights. Nothing. All the windows are dark, no sign of movement beyond. Damnit .

Standing on the sidewalk in front of her store I stare up at the dark windows far longer than I should, hoping to see movement. There isn’t any. She must have gone to bed already.

Ignoring the disappointment in my chest, I resume my walk home.