He picks up the wine and fills both our glasses to the rim. “Knock some back, would you? Tonight is special. We’re in New York City, baby. And, in just a little while, we’ll be working those mattress springs. I think it’s about time we take it to another level.”
I stare at the broken lobster and muse at the fact he feels like my only friend in New York right about now, and I suddenly don’t have the heart to eat him. For a moment I contemplate running to the bathroom and calling Ace to help figure a way out of this mess until I remember my phone has conveniently died. Besides, even if Ace offered to drive here to get me, he wouldn’t arrive until morning. I would never ask him to drive all night. It’s not like I’m some damsel in distress. I can certainly hold my own. I mean I’ll just get another room—
A gasp gets locked in my throat when I remember the fact my wallet is still snug in my backpack next to my bed. Perfect. I’m officially trapped in New York with Warren and his wandering hands while visions of mattress moves dance in his head.
I bet that’s what Dad meant by he and Beverly “took care of everything,” as in ran up my battery and hid all my credit cards. Nice. Not that my father would do that, but, dear God almighty, I sure like spreading the blame for my idiocracy.
“What’s up?” Warren is already on his fifth glass of imported vino which I’m betting is a good thing. Maybe he’ll pass out for the night, and he won’t have to face the world’s most expensive rejection. And I do plan on doling it out sooner than later.
“Nothing, really. I was just thinking I should probably hit the sack. My head has been on fire ever since we got off that thing, and I’ve got these insane cramps.” I double over and let out a horrific groan.
“Well then let’s get you to bed, little lady.” Warren does his best impersonation of a cowboy, and this mildly alarms me. He whips off his jacket and scoops me up in his arms. Before I can process what’s happening, he’s on top of me with his tongue halfway down my throat, and the mattress rodeo has officially begun.
“Get off!” I try to push him away, but he’s suddenly morphed into a wall of granite. “I can’t have sex with you. I’m on my period.”
“What?” He jumps off as if I were on fire. “Shit. That’s fucking disgusting.”
“Itsois.” I decide to go with it. “In fact, I turn into a red fountain at night, so you might want to sleep on the couch.”
“Shit.” He hops off the bed so fast, you’d think I just gave him head lice. Warren examines his dress shirt, for stains no doubt. “We’re here until Sunday. You’ll be over that shit by then, right?”
Sunday?
“Nope,” I sag into the feathered bedding as if I were disappointed myself. “I’ll have it for another six days straight.” Okay, so I may have stretched the truth, but it’s really none of his damn business how long my body decides to punish me in advance for the luxury of having children.
Warren groans as if he’s having his balls mauled off by a rhino.
“Heavy—heavy, bleeding.” I nod.
“All right, all right.” He covers his ears. “I fucking get it.” He snatches up a pillow and heads to the couch.
There’s that.
The next day sucks. I mostly shop while Warren mostly tags along like he’s actually enjoying it which makes me feel horrible on several levels because, for one, he’s buying, but if I’m going to break things off with him, we might as well keep our friendship intact. He won’t even hold my hand due to the red plague that’s racking my body, so, all in all, it’s panning out to be a rather platonic experience—far more genuinely so than the one I’m having with Ace.
Early Sunday morning a helicopter picks us up on the roof, and we do the entire first day in reverse, only its Warren who drives us back to Loveless from our father’s legal offices.
I don’t have the balls to look at him all the way up the mountain. I keep waiting for a lull in traffic, or a lull in my panicked brain to break up with him officially, but it feels like that moment never arrives, and, before I know it, Kennedy is waving at me from the balcony of the house.
“Thanks for the trip, Warren,” I say, and he gives a brief nod, the look of frustration rife on his face. “It was a really nice thought.”
“Yeah, whatever. We’ll get it right.” He snarls into the window.
I get out and watch as he drives down the street before turning and glancing over at Ace’s cabin. His car is tucked in his driveway, and just the sight of that old Cougar warms me.
It’s so nice to be back in Loveless—even nicer to know I’ll be seeing Ace in just a little while.
Ace
The sun shines bright over the lake, pressing its heat over Loveless, hot and smothering as if someone stuck a magnifying glass in the sky just to intensify the torture. It’s been three long days since I’ve last seen Reese.
Brylee came over Friday night and let me know the tricks Warren had up his designer sleeve. She told me that Reese forgot her wallet, that her phone was dead. As soon as she filled me in I thought about heading to New York and trying to find her myself. That image Reese painted of Warren trying to force himself on her haunted me all weekend. But she handled him then, and I knew she could do it again if it came right down to it. There was obviously a phone in her room. She could have called the police if things got out of hand. I guess what I’m most worried about is that Warren somehow managed to rekindle the flame. Maybe Reese discovered that luxury hotels and helicopter weekends are something she prefers to a popup tent and a rusted-out Cougar.
Neva shuffles over to the kitchen and scoffs into the fridge, while I sit staring out at the lake.
“Warren’s back,” she purrs. She’s been rubbing their weekend getaway in my face every chance she gets. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” She plucks out a soda and offers me one, but I refuse. She’s got on her death mask, with the white pancake makeup, the black soot rubbed in large, dark circles around her eyes. She’s head to toe in full Halloween mode with her thigh-high combat boots and a lace top with nothing but a metal studded bra underneath. I think she slept that way.
“Why don’t you put some clothes on?” I growl before darting a quick glance over at Reese’s house.
