Take Me Home
Zoey
There is nothing like summer at Lake Loveless. Warm breezes, heavy blue skies, and the water—my God, the water changes color before your very eyes, a Monet that shifts its canvas with each hour, red in the morning, Caribbean blue in the early afternoon, auburn and gold as the sun dips into the horizon, then in a blaze of glory, the water is on fire once again, ending the day just the way it began in heated flames that emanate off the walls of granite that surround us, burning us alive with all of its beauty. Burning red.
Abel and I have been burning—burning the sheets, burning the water, burning at the falls, in my bed, in his, in the back of his Rover, behind the Blue Crab, at the edge of the pier at midnight. Abel and I are burning red, shooting into the stratosphere with our heated affection, those three little words trembling over my lips each time he touches me. I can see them dancing in his eyes, though, and a very greedy part of me demands he says them first. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, so dangerously heated, filled with enough lust to rocket to the moon. Abel is tragically handsome, dreadfully intelligent, an appealingly well-rounded person and perfectly out of my league. A part of me is waiting for the big reveal, a shoe to drop, both shoes. I fear, Isuspectour summer fun will come crashing to an end. I don’t think my heart can take it. But this is too good, too settled, too perfect, and nothing of that nature ever lasts with me. I’m a curse, and I’ve touched this.
But for the last few weeks, Abel modeled for me freely, in my bed, at the lake near the wild reeds, at Forbidden Falls after dark under the candescent light of the moon, and not one sacred moment felt anywhere near cursed. It felt abnormally blessed. Beautiful beyond measure. And the aftermath produced not one but twelve gorgeous sketches that I poured my heart and soul into. Abel glows as he protrudes right off the page, and I mean that in the most sensual way.
“A baker’s dozen,” Kennedy marvels as I set up the prints on the elongated table draped in black velvet dedicated to my work for the auction tonight. “Oh my living God,” she gasps as she takes them all in. “Should I be looking at these?” A laugh bucks from her chest. “He is my brother-in-law, after all.”
The shoreline has been transformed into something just this side of a ballroom. Kennedy has festooned the vicinity with lavender tulle, trellises covered with twinkle lights, an entire canopy of lights that string from twelve-foot posts, affording us all the magic we’ll need on this balmy night. The caterers have already set up, filling the air with the scent of fresh burgers, grilled chicken that threatens to melt in your mouth. The subtle hint of something sweet is layered just underneath as it flirts with your senses. There’s a live band cuing up, and the sound of the electric guitar strums right through my solar plexus, enlivening me, making every cell in my body stand up at attention. There are some nights in your life that stand out above the rest, and I can tell tonight will be that night for me.
I tuck my elbow in Kennedy’s rib. “Oh, come on. If you squint your eyes, it might as well be Caleb.”
“You’re so right!”
Neva and Brylee come up behind her, and it takes less than three seconds for their jaws to come unhinged as they gasp for air.
“Oh my shit,” Neva spits it out as she leans in for a better look. No one will ever accuse Neva of being an idiot. “Does Abel know you’re flaunting these?”
“Forget about that.” Brylee shoves her out of the way to scope them out better herself. “My, my, now the entire world will know what the two of you have been doing at the boathouse.” She flips her golden hair and sheds that signature grin of hers. “I know when I’ve been bested, and you’ve done it like a pro. Congratulations, Zoey. You win. I’d say you were lucky, but I think it’s Abel who’s the lucky one. If he even thinks about breaking your heart, you let me at him first.” She rings her arm around my neck and pulls me in. Brylee Peters is the one person on the lake who you either love or hate, who either loves or hates you. But once you have her on your side, you have a friend for life.
“What’s this?” We turn to find Reese traipsing over in a pair of nude kitten heels. Her hair is swept up, and she’s wearing a long denim dress that hugs her curves just enough to let you know there’s a woman beneath all that fabric. Reese has always been the queen bee of Loveless. No matter how hard Kennedy tries, her stepsister usurps her without even trying. Reese squints in at the menagerie of sketches, and her face contorts into all sorts of interesting shapes. “Oh my God!” she hacks out the words as if the mountain was on fire before turning around and covering her eyes. “I can never unsee that! Are you guys for real? I thought this was a family friendly auction!”
“Well, it’s not.” Kennedy is quick to come to my defense. “But I’m covering these up until six o’clock sharp. They shan’t be viewed by the prying public until that very moment. I’ll have this section supervised in the event little eyes try to make their way over. Don’t you worry. Abel’s foot-long secret is safe until then.” She gives a quick wink my way. “Speaking of which…” Kennedy pulls a curl from my face and tucks it behind my ear. “Is it true? Are the two of you Facebook official? Or did this whole let-me-sketch-you-naked thing lead to platonic grounds? If so, you’re doing it wrong.”
“Funny.” I make a face as I scan the crowd in the event Abel is the next to crop up in our growing circle. “I don’t know. I mean, I think we’re official. It’s just not the kind of thing we talk about.” I bite down hard on my lip as my emotions begin to cloud me. “I guess I don’t know how to approach it. Honestly, it seems juvenile to even bring it up. I guess we’re together. I wouldn’t make a banner and hire a small aircraft to drag it over the lake, but yeah, there’s no one else, so we must be.”
Neva’s left eye comes just shy of winking. She rings those damn peepers of hers in enough kohl to make a raccoon jealous, but they always betray her feelings, and something I said has her unsettled. Brylee and Reese take off looking at the other items up for auction, and Kennedy takes off shouting at one of the food truck drivers over a plate of chicken tacos she wanted to sample an hour ago.
“Kennedy really enjoys crushing balls,” I muse to Neva. “I almost feel sorry for Caleb.”
“Don’t.” She pulls a pick out of her purse and teases that ebony-colored beehive of hers into the sky. She’s got on a bright red retro-inspired dress lined with white piping that looks as if it came straight out of a thrift store, and she’s tucked a giant red poppy made of felt next to her ear to finish off the fifties look. “That boy knows what he’s gotten himself into. Does yours?” Her pale eyes snag over mine. There’s generally a soulfulness about Neva in general, but at this moment it’s wiped clear off the table, and all that’s left is her caustic edge. “Have you told him yet? About Jamie? Does he know what Holder did to you? How it ended and why?”
I pull her close with a hard yank. “Would youshush? And would you not wear so much makeup? You look like a Goth Bratz doll. It’s terrifying.”
She growls out a laugh. “And you’re avoiding the question. Did you tell him?”
I give another paranoid glance at the vicinity. “No, I didn’t tell him. It’s not exactly a sexy bedtime story. Besides, it’s too painful, too raw.” I glance to the deep end of the lake, dark as my heart. “I’m not even sure it’s important anymore.”
Neva lands her cool hand over my forehead as if checking for a fever. “Oh, honey, you are rife with delusions if you believe that it didn’t matter. That kind of stuff only festers until you lance it. You need to get it all out, wash it clean to make sure it doesn’t come back.”
“And if I don’t?” My gaze falls to Abel’s face as Kennedy comes by with her minions, and they cover up the sketches one by one with a plain white cloth.
“It slowly chokes out everything good in your life.” Neva leans in with that haunted expression of hers, a fresh swath of gray lipstick brushed over her lips. “You need to tell Abel everything if you want the two of you to survive. And if you’re smart, you’ll tell him tonight.”
She takes off, and my gaze falls over the lake as the sun dazzles over the waters one last time as it takes its final bow. Telling Abel feels tantamount to signing our death certificate. What is a man like Abel going to do with all of my baggage? I’m betting he’ll drop me off at the next emotional bus stop.
One whisper of the truth will burn us down to cinder, and yet I’ve got the distinct feeling we’re headed that way anyhow. The truth is a match. We’re already standing in a puddle of gasoline. It’s just a matter of time before Abel and I burn.
* * *
Evening falls hard over Loveless,the sun replaced with a million twinkle lights roped high over the benefit like a canopy of artificial stars, daringly beautiful, inspiring and elegant. The army of evergreens that grace this mountain perfume the night air with their crisp pine scent as if vying for our attention. Throngs of people have shown up for the event, some from neighboring towns, some from down the mountain. All of Kennedy’s old sorority sisters are here, an entire sea of her beautiful friends, and I feel far more insecure than I have in ages. Abel is yet to materialize. He texted and let me know he’d be late. He was helping Caleb drive their mother up here, and I can hardly wait to meet her.
The scent of the food trucks has the entire lake lusting after all of their delectable offerings, but I’ve been gravitating toward the sushi chefs myself. A live band plays from a platform constructed at the foot of the lake, belting out old eighties’ cover songs, Kennedy’s personal favorite, and judging by all the swaying bodies on the sand, it’s a hit with everyone else, too.
“Zoey!” Demi waves spastically as she and Gavin make their way over. Her hair is blowing back like a lemon-colored flame, and she’s donned a white sheath large enough to fit a small country in, and it isn’t until the breeze contours her dress to her body that I see the real need for it. Demi’s belly bulges round as a beach ball, and it cuts the oxygen off in my lungs for a moment. “You look stunning! Red really is your color!” She does her best to give me a quick embrace as her hard belly grazes over my side. I can feel her there, heavy and full of life, and a bite of tears stings under my lids. “Can you believe that all of the money earned here tonight will benefit Tuesday’s Child?” Tears glint in her eyes as she says it. Demi went through hell herself, so I know that charity is close to her heart—hell, it is her heart.
