Page 48

Tina

“W hy don’t you lie down and rest for a bit?” Dee’s gaze shifts to the unmade bed, the imprints of my and Dustin’s bodies still visible. She doesn’t seem at all surprised.

Embarrassment burns my cheeks, and I struggle to hold her gaze when it returns to me. Does she think badly of me for sleeping with Connor’s best friend? God, the thought of disappointing her makes me even sicker.

This woman held such a vital role during my high school years. I spent more time at their house growing up than at my own. Even after Connor died, she and Stan were there for me. Granted, them finding out I was pregnant with their son’s child put a strain on things, but not enough for me to break ties with them. And even now, they’ve helped me so much with Gramps and trying to sell the house.

“May I speak freely?” Dee interrupts my thoughts. I nod with my eyes glued to the floor, bracing for her words. “First, I’d like to say it’s about damn time.”

Startled, I look up.

With a forefinger, she tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You have a chance to be with someone who worships you now.” I can’t help the laugh that escapes because she doesn’t know what a shit show Dustin and I are. Her next words prove she suspects something at least. “Dustin may have gone about this whole thing wrong—okay, I can see by your face he definitely did. But there are things neither of you know about Connor. What he tried, in his own misguided way, to do before he died.” She places a small leather-bound book on the nightstand. “Maybe once you read this it’ll help clear things up a bit. And Tina”—she turns at the door—“I couldn’t be more pleased to see you get your second chance. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

I nod and she closes the door behind her. Sighing, I sit on the edge of Dustin’s bed. The same bed where we enjoyed each other not even twenty-four hours ago. It’s like a dream. I rub my stomach when it turns, reminding me there’s one undeniable proof it’s all been real.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise. It’s not like we were careful. If anything, we were asking for it with all the unprotected sex we’ve been having. I think back to all the times we came together. Was he that good of an actor or am I still horrible at reading people? I cradle my stomach, close to tears. I just hope this time history doesn’t repeat itself.

After a shower, I feel marginally better. My stomach has settled, and food finally sounds appetizing again. I dress in a pair of Dustin’s sweats and a well-loved T-shirt I found buried in his drawer. It smells like him, and I bring the fabric to my nose, remembering every touch, every seductive whisper, every rude, kind, stupid thing he’s done, and I love him. Oh, God . I love Dustin and it’s big. All-consuming. Filling all the holes. It’s I-want-to-pick-up-after-the-slob-for-the-rest-of-my-life kind of big. I follow the scent of something delicious to the kitchen.

Dee looks over from where she’s standing at the stove and studies me. “You look much better. Come sit. I made you my special remedy for an uneasy stomach.” I take a seat at the island counter. She turns to finish assembling the hamburger patty on a toasted bun. Melted cheese drapes like lace over the sides and my mouth waters. She gives me this soft look. “I remember your gramps saying you would crave them last time.”

My jaw drops. “How did you know?”

She laughs. “Call it women’s intuition, but it could also be because once I saw you it struck a chord, taking me back in time for a bit.” She sets the plated burger in front of me, and I basically attack it. She braces her elbow on the counter, leaning over slightly. “I’m sure I’m not the only one having flashbacks, right?” Mouth full, I nod. She hands me a napkin. “I’d tell you not to worry but we both know that’s bullshit.” We laugh at the truth of her statement. “How far along are you?”

I calculate in my head. It’s been months since Dustin’s and my first time. I swallow. “I could be further along than when I lost Connor’s baby.”

A sorrowful look crosses her face before she turns away. God, I’m an idiot. This must be hard for her, knowing how close she came to being a grandma before. Grease drips down my chin and I wipe it with a napkin.

“Tina—”

My phone rings, cutting Dee off. I frown, not recognizing the number, looking back at Dee, torn between ignoring the call and finishing our conversation.

“Go ahead and answer.” She sets the dish towel on the sink. “We have plenty of time to talk later. I’ll just clean this mess up and get out of your hair.”

“Thank you for everything.” I take my phone into the other room, answering on the way. “Hello?”

“Oh, thank God. I thought you weren’t going to answer.”

“Rosa? Whose phone are you calling from?”

“The bastardos took my phone away, so I snuck one.” I smile at this new tendency of hers to steal things.

“Where are you?”

“Look, the reason I’m calling is because I overheard them talking about a rematch between Dustin and the guy with the horn tattoo taking place tonight.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “Tina, they’re forcing him to throw the fight.”

“What?!” Winning means everything to Dustin. “Why would he do that?”

“To keep you safe.”

“Me?” He’d lose everything. Lucius said he’d handle everything, but I still rush to the window and peek outside. I don’t see anything unusual, but a tingle of fear travels up my back. I palm my stomach for extra protection. I need to get to the gym. To stop him.

“That’s not all,” she says. “I also overheard them say Dustin had cameras installed in his house.”

I shake my head, sure I didn’t hear her correctly, but before I can ask what the fuck, Dee clears her throat from behind me and I nearly drop the phone. “Oh, sorry,” she says. “I’m heading home. I’m only a phone call away, okay?”

My hand twitches to grab for her. I want to tell her not to leave me. But she’s done enough, and this isn’t her problem.

Once she leaves, I rush to the bedroom and start searching. Where does someone hide a camera? This rollercoaster relationship has me so frustrated—one minute I’m happy, the next I’m angry. Hormones. It’s gotta be. I swipe my arm across the dresser, knocking everything off the top. I march to the desk and pick up his laptop, then hesitate for a second before throwing it against the wall. I hear a satisfying crack. God, that feels good. A surge of adrenaline makes my fingers tingle. I spin around in a circle, giving the room the finger, hoping he’s watching.

“What are you doing?” Rosa asks.

“I’m going to find every damn camera and device.” I yank the clothes out of his drawers, dropping them one by one to the carpet like flower petals—he loves me, he loves me not—feeling lighter with each article of clothing spilled.

I ripped the sheets off the bed, our scent filling the air as I do, and add them to the pile. I give the mattress a solid kick and it shifts, revealing a piece of paper hidden between it and the boxspring. Pinching the corner, I pull it free. Guilt tries to creep in, but I shove that bitch away. He lied to me, had me followed, and installed cameras in the house. He has no leg to stand on here.

“Shit,” Rosa hisses through the phone. “I hear someone coming, I gotta go.”

I drop my phone on top of the bed and it bounces right off the edge to the hard floor. The worry over Rosa is pushed aside when I recognize the note in my hand. It’s the one Connor wrote me the night before he died. The one I packed in my suitcase. But why does Dustin have it? It’s the proof you were looking for, isn’t it? Proof it was all a game to him. Some twisted payback.

The paper crinkles in my trembling hands as I read the familiar words written on the page. I slump to the edge of the bed and memories wash over me.

TEN YEARS AGO

Dustin’s headlights sweep the bumper-to-bumper cars parked along the curb. The house, my home for the night, is practically pulsing with the beat of whatever techno garbage Sin has cued up for the party. Sinclair is my best friend in the entire world, with one flaw… she has terrible taste in music.

We park in the driveway and exit the car as two girls from school walk by. They giggle and make eyes at Dustin, but he ignores them. They stumble their way up the walkway leading to the front door. Trevor, our high school’s star wrestler, trails behind like a vulture scoping out which meat he wants to sink his teeth into tonight. Three more girls join their group, making it five to one. Trevor notices me and winks. He rubs his hands together evil villain-style, clearly liking his odds.

With a tilt of his head, he motions for me to join his harem. “There’s always room for more, James. What do you say, make it an even half-dozen?”

I place my hand on Dustin’s arm when he growls next to me. I shake my head at Trevor’s teasing. Everyone knows I already have a man inside waiting for me. “I’ll pass, but thanks.”

“Your loss.”

“Douchebag,” Dustin mutters and we resume walking to the house.

“Thanks for the ride, Dusty.”

He looks down at me and his eyes warm. “Anything for you, peach.”

I trip on a crack in the cement and break my heel. “Shit.”

Dustin hunches over and pats his back. “Climb on.”

What the hell. I kick off my shoes and hop on his back. Laughing, we follow the others at a safe distance. Good thing too, because the front door bursts open, spilling more partygoers from its gaping mouth like it’s had one too many, and a backdraft of noise hits us full force. A group of Trevor’s teammates shout his name from the depths.

“Later, ladies,” Trevor says, parting the sea of girls to make his way to his buddies. He’s always been a “bros before hoes” kind of guy.

From my perch on Dustin’s back, it’s easy to spot Connor and Colin over the crowd. Colin, Dustin, and Connor have been best friends since birth. With parents who grew up together, it was an inevitable match-up even with the boys’ two-year age difference.

People part for us, revealing my golden-haired boyfriend—not as tall as the twins, but a good six inches over my head. I smile watching him run a hand through his hair, a gesture he does often while lost in telling a story. It’s longer than usual these days, almost identical to Dustin’s dark brown strands.

I wiggle off Dustin’s back and move beside Connor. Dustin steps to my other side and places a hand on my back. Between him and Colin, he’s always been the more touchy-feely twin. He doesn’t mean anything by it, so I don’t question how his palm lingers or how normal it feels. I smile at the slouchy sweatshirt around his shoulders like a scarf, like he couldn’t be bothered with pulling it on all the way. Adorably sloppy.

I tug at the hem of his sweatshirt, easing it over his shoulders until he can slip his arms through the sleeves. A strand of my hair sticks to my gloss, tickling my lip. Before I can remove it myself, Dustin reaches out, beating me to it. The second he touches me, a shock zings my cheek, startling a laugh out of us both.

He stares at his finger. “I’m glad you called me. These things are always boring without you.”

I glance at Connor, busy talking with Pete, a guy from his auto shop class, about motorcycles. I nudge him to get his attention, and without looking he drapes one of his arms around my shoulder. When my car wouldn’t start, I called Connor, but he didn’t respond to my text or call. Dustin picked up after the first ring and didn’t hesitate to come get me.

I turn back to Dustin. “There’s at least ten girls here who would jump at the chance to hang out with you, Dusty.”

“Like I said, boring without you.”

My face heats. I lean forward, acknowledging his brother. “Hey, Colin.” Colin greets me with a chin lift before returning to his people-watching.

Dustin nudges my arm and hands me a red cup. Expecting beer, I wrinkle my nose and push it away. “It’s Sin’s punch,” he says.

I’m impressed he remembers I hate beer, but I shouldn’t be—he’s always been considerate like that. “Mmm,” I say after my first sip. “Perfect.”

Dustin clears his throat. “Yeah. Perfect.”

Next to me, Connor’s going on and on about the motorcycle he’s picking up tomorrow—a birthday gift he’s been saving for since he was little—while Pete looks ready to come in his pants, so excited about the prospect of a ride one day. I smile to myself, remembering the birthday gift I have planned for Connor. I’ve been ready to give myself to him for a while now, and this party seems like the perfect opportunity. I just need to figure out how to get him alone.

I groan when another guy joins their conversation. Easier said than done when you’re dating one of the most popular boys in school.

Everyone at school calls Connor and me “the goals couple.” It’s a lot to live up to and lately, I worry Connor’s goals aren’t lining up with mine.

I brush the negative thought away, focusing solely on his warm side pressed against mine. The familiar comfort of his embrace. He always smells like the twins when he gets ready at their house—sort of beachy-fresh with a bit of spice mixed in. Cologne and clothes aren’t the only thing Connor shares with the twins. Tomorrow Connor turns eighteen and Colin and Dustin turn sixteen.

While he talks with his friends, I think about what’s to come. With Sin’s parents out of town for the weekend and her older brother away at college, it freed up his room for me to use. It was as if the universe cleared the way for me. I squeeze his side a little harder than I mean to, making him grunt.

He glances down at me with a raised brow. “You good?” Before I can answer, he hands me his half-full cup of beer. “Here, you can have this one. I’ll get a new one in a minute.” He turns, putting an end to our conversation and leaving me holding his warm beer.

Dustin takes the cup from me with a knowing smile and sets it on the counter.

For the next hour, I drink and dance, letting all my worries go. I’m swaying, Sin’s punch doing its job to loosen me up, when a hard body moves in behind me. “Miss me?” Connor says near my ear, the smell of beer heavy on his breath.

I don’t tell him I seem to be missing him a lot lately, not wanting to ruin our moment. “Always,” I say instead.

We move together, his arms pinning mine in place. He nuzzles his face in the crook of my neck. “I wish I could stay the night with you.”

Shocked, I turn to face him. “What do you mean? I thought you were.”

“I can’t, babe. I promised my parents I’d come home tonight.”

I start to panic. “But I have something I want to give you before all the crazy stuff tomorrow.” The plan is to have breakfast just the two of us before Connor picks up his bike with Christian, a friend of his parents’, then he’s meeting me at the Cases’ house for a group celebration when he’s through. It’s tonight or never. I hate how whiny I sound, but the words are already out, and I can’t exactly take them back now.

He leans in and presses a soft kiss on my forehead. I try to catch his lips with mine, but someone calls his name, grabbing his attention, and my lips graze his jaw instead. I drop my forehead to his chest. “I wish things were different,” I murmur into his shirt.

“I know,” he agrees, clueless I’m not just talking about tonight. “I still have another couple of hours, and we have all day tomorrow to be alone.” We don’t though, and he knows it’s a lie the minute the words come out of his mouth. “Maybe not alone alone, but we’ll be together.”

Suddenly exhausted, I sag against him. “Yeah.” Dancing now is the last thing I want to do. Heck, I barely want to be at the party anymore. Luckily, Connor gets called away by a group wanting to play pool. I plaster on a smile and push him in their direction.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Go have fun.” No sense in both of us being miserable. “Find me before you leave.”

“You’re the best girlfriend.” He chucks me under the chin and hurries off.

Alone, I sit on the stairs cradling my fifth drink. I’m comfortably numb at this point. Who’d want all these shitty feelings, anyway? Eyelids drooping, I press my forehead to my cup. The condensation wets my brow and drips down my nose.

Someone breezes by, jostling me. When I open my eyes, I notice a folded piece of paper on the step beside me. I pick it up, putting my cup in its place, and read the words written inside. I’ll always choose you. Meet me in Sin’s brother’s room.

I pause outside Sin’s brother’s bedroom door to gather my composure, wishing I hadn’t had the last two drinks. But maybe Sin was right when I told her I wanted to be sober for my first time, saying, “ A few drinks will help loosen up the gears, if you know what I mean.”

After one more fortifying breath, I enter the bedroom, close the door behind me and lock it. With the blackout curtains it’s impossible to see my hand in front of my face, let alone another person in the room. It’s sexy and mysterious, and my body responds instantly, warmth spreading along my spine and a beat strumming between my legs. The last could also be the ear-splitting music coming from downstairs. It’s so loud the floor vibrates under my feet.

Gingerly, I make my way to where I know the bed is and yelp when someone grabs one of my outstretched hands. Connor’s scent reaches my nose and I hum. “I love this cologne on you. It drives me crazy.”

He threads our fingers together, tugging me closer until my legs bump into the mattress and his thighs bracket mine. He brings one of our joined hands to his mouth and nips the tip of my index finger. He sucks the finger, soothing the sting. A puff of warm air covers our joined hands when he sighs like he’s waited all night to taste me.

Downstairs, the partiers shout along with the song, making conversation virtually impossible, but nothing short of a bomb going off can ruin this rare moment for me. Tonight is going to be a new beginning. I can feel it.

He brings my hands to his shoulders, telling me with a firm press not to move them before he releases me. Torturously slow, he trails his fingers along my arm, stopping briefly at the inside of my elbows. He tickles the sensitive skin there in small circular motions. I moan and wiggle my hips, trying to ease the ache his touch creates. Tracing a path to my shoulders, he teases his fingers under the straps of my camisole, pausing as if waiting for my okay.

I drop my arms to my sides, and he takes both my shirt and bra down my arms, slipping the fabric completely free from my hands. With Sin’s punch flowing through me, there are no inhibitions—I’m not embarrassed like I thought I’d be. I’m exhilarated. Empowered. I stand tall and wait for his next move. Finally, he pulls me to him, resting his face between my bare breasts, and a shuddering breath leaves his lips. His body shakes against me.

“Hey,” I soothe, and moan when he tentatively takes one of my nipples into his mouth. “Oh, God…” I grip the back of his head, holding him to me tighter. “Harder… yeah, like that,” I praise when he applies more suction. “So good.”

His hands begin to roam, learning every bare inch of my torso. I’m so close to coming already, and he hasn’t even ventured below my waist yet. God, the thought gets me wetter. Done with his teasing, I demand, “Take off your clothes.” I don’t know where this bold person comes from, but I let her take the lead.

Suddenly, the music downstairs stops, and thudding footsteps sound on the stairs like drumbeats. In the hall, the bathroom door slams shut, and high-pitched giggles seep beneath our closed door.

As if reading each other perfectly, we move faster, kicking our shoes off and dropping our jeans with a muffled thud to the carpeted floor. Another song starts downstairs, loud and thumping, and I think I hear him thank God. Chuckling, I place my hands on his shoulders and climb on his lap. The friction of his coarse leg hair scratching my smooth inner thighs sends a fresh wave of liquid to my core. With a grunt, he grabs my hips, yanking me forward. He fists the back of my head, pulling our lips together for a hungry kiss.

I relax my jaw, letting his tongue invade. His grip on my hair tightens, stinging my scalp. I claw at his shoulders and upper back, slapping when it’s not enough. I’m grinding up and down his length so hard I see bursts of light behind my closed eyelids. We’re both shaking so badly that the bed squeaks and our teeth clash. It’s wild and clumsy and perfect. I can’t tell if the moans are coming from him or me at this point. All of it hurts so good, I never imagined it’d feel so unreal.

When he begins experimenting, licking across the roof of my mouth and along my teeth, I about lose my mind, grinding harder into his steel heat while downstairs 50 Cent sings, “Keep going ’til you hit the spot.” I cry out as my orgasm washes over me, soaking us both.

“I could eat you alive,” I admit, settling back to earth. I nip at his lip and his happy sigh fills my mouth.

In the past, I’d have been on pins and needles way before now, waiting for him to put on the brakes like he always did, but there’s no sign of the old Connor tonight as his erection twitches eagerly between us. I rock my hips again, threading my fingers through his hair, peppering kisses all over his face. When I reach his throat, he drops his head back and moans as I latch onto his Adam’s apple. I can feel the vibration of his sexy grunts against my mouth each time the tip of his erection meets my opening.

Blindly, I reach for the nightstand drawer where Sin said her brother kept his condoms. Connor’s hands are on my hips, keeping me steady. The square packet crinkles in my palm and I tear the corner with my teeth. I take his length in my grasp and roll the rubber down like I saw in a how-to video. His fingers dig into my flesh, and he shakes beneath me. Using the tip of his dick, I draw circles around my clit over and over like I’ve dreamed of doing so many times as I lie in my bed at night. On the fifth pass, I tighten around emptiness, on the edge of another orgasm.

Inch by agonizing inch, I take him inside hissing with the slight pinch of pain. With my free hand, I guide his, placing his thumb over my clit. He takes over, stroking in little circles, thrusting his hips in tandem with mine, until my second orgasm rolls through me. I press my mouth to his ear. “You feel so right inside me.”

He tenses beneath me and before I can utter another word, he flips our positions. From that moment on, all I can do is hold on to the covers while he pounds into me, finding his own release.

I’m a sweaty mess and the music downstairs is softer now, like it’s in tune with us. Our skin is tacky and cold and still joined. We both need washcloths. “I need to use the bathroom,” I say.

He pulls out and rolls to the side. Missing him, I grope around in the darkness until my hands connect with his erection, surprised to find he’s growing hard again at my touch. He sucks in a breath and grabs my wrist. “Let me,” I say. “I want to take care of you.”

He lets go with a contented sigh.

Something new brews within me, something daring and naughty. The bathroom forgotten for now, I remove the condom, tossing it aside. I lower my head and lick a long line up his length, tasting the tanginess of him. I lap and suck off every drop, letting instinct take over. He grows impossibly hard in my mouth, the vein pulsing along my tongue as I drag it up and down. He grips the back of my head, guiding me along. Within seconds, he’s coming down my throat.

Once I’m done drinking him down, I press a kiss to his balls, so pleased with us, I’m bursting. I picture all the time we have to explore this side of us and head to the bathroom with a sassy sway to my hips. I can feel his eyes on me the whole time. Without turning, I stop at the doorway. “Happy birthday.”

Eager to get back to Connor, I take care of business quickly, not bothering to fix my hair or make-up. I swing the door open, letting the light spill into the room, finding it empty. Thinking he went down for another drink, I dress and hurry after him. I spot him by the front door, tossing his keys in the air. “Hey,” I say when I get closer. “You’re still not staying?”

He stares at me like I’ve grown two heads. “I told you I had to go home, remember?”

“I know, I just thought after… well, that you’d stay.”

He tilts his head, a soft, almost sad smile playing on his lips, but when he opens his mouth to speak, Pete walks up. “Have you seen Travis?”

“Nah, I haven’t seen him in a while,” Connor says. “I thought he went home.”

“I fuckin’ hope not.” Pete pulls his phone from his pocket. “He said he’d give me a ride.”

“I’ll take you home, man,” Connor offers.

Pete looks from me to Connor. “Ya sure?”

“Yeah, I was heading out anyway.” He presses his lips to mine. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

I stand at the open door, tears threatening, watching the guy I gave everything to walk away without so much as a “was it good for you?” I lick my lips, tasting beer and something I’m afraid can’t be fixed.

“I have a weakness for the pretty ones, don’t I, Mateo?”

The foreign voice shatters my trip down memory lane. I rise from the bed and stare at the Hispanic man standing in the doorway of the bedroom. He’s tall and lean with graying temples and an emptiness in his dark eyes. Behind him is the man who was with Rosa outside of the gym. I’m so surprised to see them here, in Dustin’s room, I’m rooted to my spot.

At the older man’s nod, Mateo pulls a length of gray tape from a roll in his hand and gestures to the bed almost apologetically. “Have a seat, sad eyes.”

Physically I’m no match for these men, but if I can somehow distract them, I might be able to make it outside and scream for help. Head lowered, I move as if to sit on the bed, and the second I reach the nightstand, I grab the lamp and hurl it as hard as I can at the younger man. I run to the door. His curses and the sound of shattering glass fill the air as the lamp breaks apart, scattering pieces across the floor.

Suddenly an arm bands around my middle and I’m hauled off my feet. I kick and squirm but it’s no use. The older man huffs close to my ear but is barely winded when he drags me back to the room and sets me on the bed.

“What do you want?” I ask.

Mateo wraps the tape tightly around my ankles while the older man speaks. “For now? All I want is for you to be good. Can you do that for me?” I nod and he looks pleased. “ Bien . Bien . If your boy does as he’s supposed to, nothing will happen to you.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

He chuckles. The sound makes my skin crawl. “Well, like I said, I have a fondness for the pretty ones.”

I look around the room, praying someone is catching this on the camera, wherever it is, and sends help.

He follows my gaze. “Ah, yes, the cameras.” He steps closer, the scent of cigar smoke getting stronger as he does. “Sadly, they have been turned off.” He pouts, telling me he wasn’t responsible, but he’s been fully aware of their existence. With a feather-light touch, he drags his forefinger down my cheek, tracing my lips. “Though not before we saw last night’s performances.” He tests the strength of the tape Mateo just secured on my wrists with a hard yank, nearly toppling me backward before adding, “I like my things tied up and eaten alive. So, thank you for the show, pretty one.”

I swallow the bile rising in my throat at the thought of this man watching my and Dustin’s most intimate moments. He walks away, leaving me alone with Mateo, who pulls up a chair and makes himself comfortable. I notice the gun he’s holding on top of his thigh and my gaze darts to his.

“How’s Rosaline?” It surprises me how sincere he sounds.

“Safe,” I say, hoping it’s true.

He takes his time responding, checking over his shoulder before leaning forward. His forearms are braced on each thigh, his hands dangling between his spread legs. The gun is still loosely held in one of his hands. He sighs. “You are a fool if you think this.” His expression hardens. “For your sake, I hope your man loses for you.”

For us.