Текст книги "Sweet"

Автор книги: Erin McCarthy

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter Six

There is an inherent problem with lying about your location. You either have to invite everyone around you into the secret or you look like a psycho. Given that I didn’t want to admit to everyone I knew that I was supposed to be sweating with a nail gun in the backwater, I was just coming off as a raging bitch.

So not only was I not giving of my time freely to help others, I was being nasty to my friends.

Yay, Jessica.

“Don’t check in!” I snapped at Robin as we settled down into our lounge chairs at the water park.

“Why the hell not? Maybe someone can meet us here.”

“I don’t feel like dealing with people today.” I slapped sunscreen on my arms and tried to think of a better reason, but my brain wasn’t firing at full capacity after my stupid, ridiculous night of crap sleep, where Riley buzzed me in an erotic biblically inspired flyby. Effing disturbing. It was like I’d fallen into a B horror movie. I had half expected to wake up and find WHORE OF BABYLON scratched into my skin with a needle.

“Are you hungover? Because you’re acting like a whole lot of biotch.”

I sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m exhausted. I think I’m getting a cold.” Lie. Yet another lie on top of the already existing lie. Robin was my friend, and frankly I didn’t have that many tight friends. With Rory and Kylie gone for the summer, I was going to be lonely if I didn’t treat Robin just a little bit better.

As Robin tied up her dark hair into a bun and readjusted her sunglasses, I squirted more sunscreen on my knees. “Okay, the truth is I totally lied to my parents about staying here this summer. They think I’m building houses with a mission group in West Virginia.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you shitting me?”

“No. Unfortunately. I just couldn’t go home, but I didn’t really think about how hard it is to hide your whereabouts with social media. My parents aren’t exactly checking my profile page, but my brother does. I tried blocking him, but he told my mother and she made me re-friend him.”

“You tried to block your brother?” Robin looked amused by the very thought. “I should have thought of that. My brothers like to post pictures of obese hairy men on my page and tell me that’s what I’m going to look like at forty.” She studied her arms ruefully. “It’s the Latin genes. I spend half my life waxing hair off my body.”

Relieved that she didn’t seem horrified by me, I said, “So you won’t tell? And you don’t think I’m an evil human being?”

She shrugged. “No. I mean, who hasn’t wanted to avoid their parents at one point or another? And I was raised in a huge Latino Catholic family, and everyone is always up in your business. It must be nice to turn that off for a few weeks. I’m kinda jealous of you.”

“I guess everyone has their family drama.” I adjusted the yellow bikini top I was wearing, slipping the straps off so I wouldn’t get weird tan lines and tucking them into the cups.

“Yep. My grandmother is furious that I got a D in Spanish. She doesn’t seem to get that listening to her speak it and being able to understand it for the most part is totally different than writing it grammatically correct. I actually feel like I have a disadvantage because I had all this quasi-background info. But to her, it means I’m spitting on my heritage.” She sipped her water bottle. “It gives me a headache.”

“That does suck.” We were at the edge of the wave pool, and a million kids were tearing by, moms hollering at them to slow down. I picked up my fashion magazine and flipped idly through it, trying to find an article that grabbed my attention.

“Hotties, eleven o’clock,” Robin murmured.

I glanced up. I saw a lot of hair gel and mirrored sunglasses. There were three of them and they were checking us out. It was hard to distinguish one from the other with their bulky muscles and giant floral swim trunks. “I’ll let you take this,” I told Robin. “I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re not in the mood to flirt?” She sounded scandalized.

I had to admit, it was a rare occurrence that I didn’t want to meet new people. I liked hanging out, moving through a crowd, demanding that I be entertained. But today I just wanted to hide behind my sunglasses and scowl. “No. I’m not. Hey, when can you get me the typography piece?”

“Tomorrow. It will only take me an hour, then it has to dry for another hour or two.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“Sure. Oh, here they come.” Robin sat up a little straighter, her red bandeau bikini top standing at attention.

“Hey, wassup?” Douche #1 said.

“Ladies,” Douche #2 said.

“This chair taken?” from Douche #3.

Yeah, so not in the mood. Which is why when Douche #1 said, “Want a beer?” I nodded.

So I was risking getting busted for open container. This was the only way I was going to get through the day without being consumed by thoughts of Riley Mann, the swarming bastard. I had a terrible feeling that for the first time in well, ever, I was suffering from the insanity of an unrequited crush. It sucked. Hard.

Fortunately the Douche Trio was smart enough to have their beer disguised in travel mugs. While Douche #2 assured me they were twenty-one, they didn’t want to get kicked out.

“I’m not even twenty-one,” I told him. “So you’re really flirting with danger here.”

“Is that your name?” he asked with a wink. “Danger?”

Oh, God. “Yes. Jessica Danger.” Hell, it kind of suited me. Much more appropriate than Jessica Sweet. We all knew that was an ironic name for me.

Six hours and I’m not sure how many beers later, I let him give me a groping, wet-tongued kiss in the parking lot and I hated myself for it. But I was tired, drunk, confused by my own feelings toward Riley, and it seemed easier to just allow it than to work up a protest. But I did shove him off when he got too enthusiastic.

I felt nothing. I looked at him and I felt absolutely nothing. No attraction. No memory of what his name was or a single word he had spoken to me throughout the day.

“Can I get your digits?” he asked, holding his phone out for me.

“No,” I said shortly, climbing into Robin’s car and slamming the door shut. I locked it and shut my eyes, hot tears behind my lids. What was I doing? And I didn’t cry. I never cried.

He knocked on the window, looking pissed, but I ignored him and he wandered away, probably calculating how many beers he had wasted on a girl who wasn’t going to blow him. My heart wasn’t exactly bleeding for him. I had given zero encouragement and half-assed conversation all day.

Robin got in a second later and threw her beach bag in the backseat. I was wearing denim shorts over my bikini bottoms, but Robin hadn’t even bothered with that. When she turned the car on and the AC cranked on, she flicked it off with a shiver. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You seem totally upset.”

I sniffled, annoyed. God, crying stung my eyes. How did chicks do this all the time? “I’m hungry,” I told her. “Can we go to the gas station? I want a candy bar.”

“Sure.”

Too much sun. Too much beer. Too much time with douchey guys that I wasn’t interested in while I snuck glances on my phone of the picture of the guy I was interested in. Altogether a fail of a day. “I think I owe every girl I’ve ever rolled my eyes at for liking the wrong guy an apology.”

“You didn’t actually like that guy, did you?” Robin asked, startled, pulling out of the water park. “I thought you just drank too much beer.”

“I did. By the way, should you be driving?”

“I only had two beers and the last one was like three hours ago. You dusted me with the drinking.”

“Oh, okay. And no, I did not actually like that guy. I don’t even remember his name. I’m not sure I ever heard him when he told me, that is how little I gave a crap.”

“I think it was Rico.”

I snorted.

“Then who do you like if it isn’t Rico?”

If I hadn’t been buzzed, I never would have admitted it. But I was, so I said glumly, “Riley.”

Robin made a choking sound of horror. “Oh, shit. That’s probably not good.”

“No.” I nodded in agreement as we pulled into the gas station. “It’s idiotic. He treats me like an annoying little sister and I should be glad, really. If I have sex with him, I think my vag would explode.”

Laughing, Robin parked and got out of the car. “I want a drink. And if I were you, I would risk my vagina exploding for one night with that hunk of man meat. Riley is fucking hot. He was tagged in a picture with Rory and Tyler and I felt I needed a bib.”

Tell me about it.

Twenty minutes later Robin dropped me off and I struggled with all the bags. Before we’d hit the water park I had asked her to stop off at a discount home goods store and I had gone accessory shopping for the kitchen, so I had three bags over my right arm, plus a bag full of candy and energy drinks from the gas station and a fast food bag with the remnants of a chicken tender meal from the drive-thru. Having stuffed my face, I was decidedly less drunk, but I wouldn’t have classified myself as sober, which was obvious when I clipped my shin on the coffee table in the dark and ricocheted off the hall wall twice.

“Damn it.” I made it to my room and flicked on the light. I was freezing from still wearing a wet bathing suit so I pulled off my bottoms and slipped into panties and pajama pants. Then yanking my hoodie off the window, I peeled the duct tape off the cuffs and pulled it on over my yellow bikini top, leaving it unzipped. I wanted to snuggle in the warm fabric, to get a hoodie hug. It was old and had been washed a hundred times, a Christmas gift my sophomore year in high school. My mother had threatened to burn it when I had been home on Christmas break, saying it was so faded and threadbare that she wouldn’t even dream of donating it to the homeless shelter. But I loved it and right now, it felt like just what I needed.

Heading back to the kitchen to finish eating, because I didn’t want my room to smell like old fries in the morning, I flicked on the kitchen light and screamed.

“Holy shit!”

Riley was sitting in the kitchen, in what had been the dark until I had turned on the light.

“Oh my God, what are you doing?” I breathed out in relief. “You scared the shit out of me.”

But despite my own alcohol remnants, I could see immediately what he was doing. There was an ashtray on the table with a burning cigarette resting in it, a half-empty glass next to it, and a mostly empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s rounding out the trio. Riley was sitting slack in the chair, his eyes dull, wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs. I wasn’t sure what was more distracting to me—the mostly empty bottle of liquor or the view of his muscular chest and thighs, his metal-studded bracelet and iron cross still on against his bare skin. The table was partially blocking the view of his briefs, and I decided that was a good thing.

I was in way too weird of a place for anything good to come out of me checking out his junk.

“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Why are you drinking alone in the dark?” I set the bags down on the table and pulled out a sports drink. After taking a sip I held it out to him. “Want some? You look like you need it.”

I thought he would actually reject it, but he did take the bottle and gulped some of the drink before eyeing my other bags. “What’s in there?”

“Chicken nuggets. Fries. Three chocolate bars and a bag of chips.”

“What, do you have PMS or something?” he asked, making a minimal effort to reach out and hook the bag with one finger and dragging it toward him. He dug in for a French fry and ate it half heartedly.

More like all self-control disappeared entirely with a six-pack. “No. Maybe I’m just a pig.”

He finally looked over at me, eyeing my outfit. “Is that your bra?”

If he wasn’t clearly loaded I would have been annoyed. “No. It’s my bikini top. I went to the water park today.”

“Oh.” His eyes narrowed at my chest. “Yellow.”

Thanks, Captain Obvious. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “So any particular reason you’re having a party for one?”

He lifted his cigarette to his mouth and took a deep drag. As he blew out smoke, he gestured to some papers on the table. “That.”

My heart dropped. “We’re being kicked out by the bank?” As I reached for the papers, I wondered at my use of the word “we.”

“No. That will be a while still. This is about Easton. The social worker is coming next week to do a home inspection.”

Oh, no. He was worried about Easton, which was worse. Way worse. I knew that Riley had filed for custody of Easton when their mom died. Jayden was eighteen and considered an adult, but Easton was only eleven.

Riley picked up the bottle and drank directly from it. “They’re going to take him from me, I know it.” His voice cracked at the end of his sentence, and suddenly there were tears welling in his eyes.

I didn’t know what to say or to do. Seeing him so vulnerable, so clearly in pain, stunned me. I wasn’t the girl you went to for a hug. I wasn’t the friend who knew the right thing to say. I couldn’t soothe and comfort and make it all okay. I was just Jessica, sarcasm my only superpower.

But my heart ached for him, and I felt right then that I would do anything to make it okay for him, that I had to pull my head out of the Bud Light can and be a true, honest-to-God friend to him.

“What makes you think they’ll take him away?” I asked. “You’re his brother, and you have a steady job. He’s lived with you almost his whole life. This is his home. I would think stability counts for something, right? And no one else is contesting custody, are they?”

He shook his head, lifting his cigarette to his mouth again. “No. My aunt Jackie disappeared a month ago, probably shacked up with her drug dealer. Her son is in jail, and they’re my only family, besides good ol’ Dad, who isn’t eligible for parole for another ten years. But look around you, Jess. I mean, you clearly know it—this place is a dump. It reeks in here, and that social worker is going to take one look around and think that my brother belongs in some fucking foster home with people who don’t give a shit about him.”

Without warning, Riley took the whiskey bottle and hurtled it at the back door, where it smashed, amber liquid trailing down the wood.

I jumped.

“Seven years,” he said passionately. “Seven fucking years I have been working for the goal of making sure that kid doesn’t end up in the system and now I’m going to fail and he’s going to pay the price for me not being man enough to save him.”

“Hey,” I said gently, shocked by the self-loathing, by the burden that he clearly had been carrying for way longer than a twenty-five-year-old should have to. “You haven’t failed. We have a few days. A couple of cans of paint, we’ll pull the carpet up to get rid of the smell, no big deal. No one expects you to provide anything more than a clean and safe environment for Easton, and you’re doing that.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I think Easton is very lucky to have you. He may have drawn a shitty card when it came to your parents, but he has you and that’s going to save him, Riley. He’s going to be fine, and you can be proud of yourself for everything you’ve done and sacrificed.” I meant that. So many guys would have bolted, but Riley was in for the long haul.

“Tyler is better at the surrogate parent thing than me.” He took the last drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out. “I’m not good at the whole homework and shower and take-him-to-the-doctor thing. I seem to be missing the nurturing gene.”

“You and me both,” I told him. “I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a parent.” I had never admitted that to anyone. It made me feel like such a jerk. But I wasn’t sure I would be a good mother. I couldn’t imagine singing lullabies or cleaning up snot.

“I don’t want kids.” He dug into my shopping bag and pulled out a pack of peanut butter cups. “Can I eat these?”

“Sure.”

“I figure having kids is like the biggest gamble ever, and if you fuck it up, you’re not just messing your own life up but another human being’s. That’s too much responsibility.”

“That’s because you’ve been raising your brothers for years. Maybe you’ll change your mind some day.” I gave him a soft smile. “When you meet the right girl.” Isn’t that what they always said? You met The One and suddenly you were envisioning picket fences and baby strollers? It was hard to picture that for myself since I had never once come even remotely close to being in love.

Riley was the first guy I’d actually been genuinely interested in in about forever and a day and yet, he just might be the first legitimate friendship with a guy I’d ever had. Where you had real conversations and shared genuine thoughts and emotions. I didn’t want to screw that up.

“Nah, I doubt it. But yeah, it’s been hard. But I don’t resent taking care of Easton, I don’t mean that. I would do anything for that kid, and Jayden, too. They’re awesome kids, despite all of my mom’s shit, and I work hard to make sure they have food and a roof over their heads.” He flashed a quick grin, but his eyes were troubled. “For now, anyway. But they deserve better than I can give them, and that makes me angry.”

“Stop beating yourself up. Your dad is in jail. Your mother was a drug addict. It’s a miracle none of you are serial killers or junkies yourselves. I think if you can get Easton to eighteen and he is a decent guy, then you’ve done a damn good job. And if he ends up in an alley with a needle in his arm, it’s not your fault.”

Maybe that wasn’t exactly the right thing to say.

Riley stopped cramming chocolate into his mouth long enough to cock his head and say, “Now there’s an image. Thanks for that.”

I flushed. “Sorry. This is why I can’t be a mother. I give terrible advice.”

But Riley laughed. “No, you’re fine. I appreciate the effort. Most girls would have hidden in their rooms, or told me to suck it up, or tried to distract me with sex.”

Well, it wasn’t like that last one hadn’t entered my head. He was practically naked and we were both buzzed and I was oh, maybe falling completely head over ass for him.

I ignored that. “I’ll help you with cleaning up the house. I’m happy to help. We have all weekend. This place will shine like the top of the Chrysler Building.”

He gave me a lopsided smile. “Come here.”

“Come here where?” I asked, suspicious.

“Here.” He held out his hand.

“Are you going to give me a wet willie or something?” I asked, reluctantly standing up and going over to him. I took the remaining half of the peanut butter cup out of his hand and ate it. “Yum.”

“Sit down.” He gestured to his lap.

Oh, no freaking way. No, no, and no. I was not going to sit on his lap when he was in nothing but boxer briefs, eyes still glassy from alcohol. I wasn’t known for resisting temptation. As a kid, if you waved candy in front of me, I would have traded my family for a bag of Jolly Ranchers. I had to admit that I wasn’t sure I could control my feelings when he was so tantalizingly close to my touch.

“Absolutely not,” I told him, unscrewing the cap on the energy drink to hide my expression from his eyes.

But while I was sipping, he grabbed me and pulled me down onto him.

“Riley!” I tried to maneuver away, but it was too late. I fell with a thunk on his thighs, and I realized wiggling around was worse than sitting still. “What?”

“You’re really going to help me clean this dump up?” he asked, suddenly looking earnest.

I studied him for a second, my heart squeezing. “Yes. I already was, but this is just a little more large scale, but still no big deal. We’ll have this place looking amazing and they’ll give you custody of Easton. I promise.” Of course, I couldn’t promise any such thing, but I didn’t want to see him like that.

He smiled. “Thank you. You’re a good person, you know that?”

I shook my head. “I’m not, not really. I’m not awful, but I’m not so nice, truthfully.”

“You are, too. You’re helping me, aren’t you?”

“That’s what friends do.” I put my arms on his shoulders because I was losing my balance. “And we’re friends, right?”

“Yeah.” His hand was warm on my back. “We’re definitely friends, Jess. Though I just realized I don’t know your last name.”

“It’s Sweet.” I fingered his necklace, enjoying being this close to him. It might never happen again, so I was going to take advantage of the opportunity. Heat radiated off him, and I could smell the whiskey on his breath. “Ironic, huh?”

“Seriously, that’s your last name?”

I nodded, cheeks burning for some reason. I didn’t blush any more than I cried. So annoying.

“I think it’s appropriate. You are, actually, very sweet.” Riley’s hand shifted underneath my hoodie onto my bare skin, and I shivered. “That’s what I think.”

“I think you’re drunk.” Why did he have to touch me like that? His hand was just resting on the small of my back, his thumb brushing back and forth lazily.

We were in a dangerous position, and he didn’t seem to have a clue. For a long minute, he studied me, his eyes dark in the harsh light of the kitchen, and I held my breath, wondering what he was thinking, wanting him to say something . . . important.

“Maybe.” His gaze dropped. “I never realized how big your tits are. Damn, all this yellow is really distracting.”

Yeah. That wasn’t it.

Disgusted, I jumped up off his lap. “On that note, I’m going to bed. And you should too. Nine a.m., buddy, you need to be in the living room ready to work.”

He saluted me and reached for his cigarettes.

“And no smoking in here!” I zipped up my hoodie all the way. “We just painted this kitchen!” With a sound of exasperation, I threw up my hands and left the room.

Then I had a thought. Rounding on him, I added, “Don’t try to clean up that glass tonight. You’re too drunk and you’ll cut yourself. We can get it tomorrow.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “And you don’t think you’re good mom material. I think it’s there, you just hide it under all that blond.”

As if that didn’t have me speechless, he chose that moment to stand up. Riley sitting in underwear was bad enough. But when he rose in an unfurling of naked hotness, standing in front of me like every girl’s fantasy, my mouth went dry. I half expected water to suddenly drop from the ceiling and land on him for a perfect package of gorgeous wet skin and finish me off completely.

The Wicked Witch had nothing on me when it came to melting.

“Put some pants on,” I told him.

He pointed an unlit cigarette at me and grinned. “See? Right there. Mom. That was perfect.”

First he said I was like his little sister.

Now like a mother?

It was going from bad to worse.