She pulls a blonde curl to her lips and bites over it. Zoey is unmistakably attractive. And, believe me, if Kennedy weren’t haunting me, staining my soul on a cellular level, Zoey would very much garner the position in my bed that she’s gunning for, but it’s simply not available. At least not to her anyway.
The elevator drops like a ride on some wild rollercoaster giving my stomach that bottoming out feeling I secretly look forward to each day. The ten-year-old in me cheers each time we hit it.
The doors whoosh open, and I motion for Zoey to step out first. If my mother taught me anything it was to be among that dying breed of gentlemen that open the door for woman and children first.
“Don’t go making too many plans.” Her lashes flutter hard like the wings of an irate bird. “I’m going to pin you down for some serious one-on-one time soon. I don’t believe a single soul has given you the proper tour of Loveless yet.” Her fingers coil slowly around my tie. Her face swings in uncomfortably close to mine, her breath dusting over my lips. “I’m volunteering, and I won’t let you take that privilege away from me.” She pushes me back with a laugh as she clops her way down the foyer to the glowing world beyond this concrete capsule. “Race you to the top of the hill!” She laughs as she takes off.
That’s one race Zoey is going to win. I’ve got a florist to visit before I even think of heading up that mountain. I’m pulling out all of the clichéd stops tonight, flowers, surf and turf, expensive as hell bubbly, and a decadent dessert—preferably something creamy that glides well over flesh. I want the signs to be clear as day for Kennedy. I want my every action to scream I’m here now. Let’s do this. I want you more than my next breath.
I simply want her.
I don’t need anything else, not even the truth.
Of Trust and Lust
Kennedy
If I thoughtthe day started off with a bang—me banging Keith quite literally, in a past tense sort of way—then the afternoon started off with a gradual roar that eventually turned into the deafening sound of everyone I’ve ever known contacting me in some electronic format asking if I’ve seen it—seenthem, the solid collection of pornography my life has suddenly morphed into. I want to accomplish many things during my short stint here on the planet, but being the star of a triple X video—an entire series of them— was never one of them.
Melanie and Reese both offered to come straight home, but I made them promise not to. Reese said she’d be up next Friday and through the weekend. Mel promised she’d do damage control at the sorority and on campus in general, but I’m not too sure what that might entail. People secretly love stuff like this.
My phone has been buzzing like a scorpion in my pocket until I finally grew tired of fending off the masses and tossed it into my purse. Its only hours, minutes, before my mother finds out. My phone rings in a fit of surprise as Sia belts outElastic Heartat top volume. I fish it out just to set it to silent and see that it’s Kam.
I muse over the fact she’s actually calling me for once, and, for a brief fleeting moment, I forget about my bare ass flailing around for the world to see, my inflated grunting to try and show Keith how much he’s able to pleasure me. My biggest lies were always perpetuated when we were beneath the sheets. For a brief moment, I pretend Kam is calling to apologize—to call a truce for all the heartache we’ve caused each other over the last four years. Perhaps she wants to invite me shopping or to lunch like we used to do, but my father’s face comes back to haunt me. That smiling, spray-tanned skin, his perfect denture-white smile. He took a piss all over my mother, and I wasn’t about to let her go it alone, but Kam was more than willing.
I set the phone to silent without bothering to pick it up. Kamryn can wait. Forever if need be.
A rustle emits from the doorway as my mother bursts in with her ultra-short tennis skirt, white with a bright green trim, her racket slung victoriously over her shoulder.
“Brrr!” She gives an exaggerated shiver. “Looks like Mother Nature has found us after all! No getting out of that one.” She places her racket in the hall closet before heading over. My mother is young for her forty-five years, both in spirit and beauty. She’s a blonde this year. Although I’ve seen her every quasi-natural shade under the sun. Last week she threatened to dye her hair pink at the tips, and I solemnly vowed to disown her if she entertained the thought further. We both shared a dark laugh, but I know for a fact we were thinking of Kam. My sister is the one who removed herself from the situation. We never disowned her.
“What’s all this?” She peeks into one of the grocery bags I set on the counter.
“Not for you.” I bat her hand away. “I’m cooking dinner tonight.” I pause short of the big reveal. “For Caleb.”
Her mouth drops open while sucking in a lungful of air. My mother can be a giddy pre-teen of a girl when it comes to the boys in my life. She absolutely loathed Keith and was forever trying to find a more suitable, educated, wealthy replacement. Caleb, in her opinion, is the exact suitable, educated, wealthy man she’s looking for.
“Relax, we’re having salmon together not conceiving children.”
She touches her finger to her lips, withholding a smile. “Salmon do like to spawn. Maybe you should take a cue from your dinner.”
“I’m not taking a cue from my dinner, Mother.” My eyes pull over her features, her up-turned nose that stamps her with that snobby, stereotypical rich-bitch look, her pale, glowing blue eyes. She’s not a bitch, not by a long shot, but cross her, and you’ll know what it means to have a new one torn into you. My mother is my idol, a kickass heroine of her own story, sort of. She’s beautiful, there’s no denying that. My mother should have been a model. She should have carved a way for herself in this world and not played the part of a gold-digging wife—then she never would have found herself with my father in the first place. Of course, that blows Kam and I right out of existence, but, in truth, I would gladly do so just to give my mother the happiness she deserves. Although, oddly, she seems to have found it with Reese’s father, even if she was attracted to his bank account far sooner than she ever was him. They’re happy. I guess at the end of the day that’s what counts.
“I was sort of hoping you and I could go out to dinner since Chuck is out of town but hey, you with the Ferrari-driving boy next door?” She snaps off the tip of the French baguette sticking out of the bag and takes a quick nibble. “I most certainly approve.” She spins, causing her tennis shoes to squeak against the wood floors, her skirt fans out like a flower. “I’ll be taking a nice, long bubble bath. If you’re smart, you’ll be doing the same at his place. Baths are always more fun with two!” Her phone rings before her laughter can fully infiltrate the room. Her head inches back as she inspects the screen. “It’s your father.”
We exchange a quick deer-in-the-headlights glance with her probably thinking the worst has happened to Kamryn and me knowing that the worst has happened to me and now my father is about to unceremoniously inform her of it. He’s always the first to rip a bandage off a wound, usually reopening the injury and causing a hell of a lot of damage along the way.
My chin bucks high in the air as I brace myself for the inevitable blood bath.
“What?” She jumps back. More shoe squeaking ensues. Her horrified eyes rise to meet mine. Her jaw contorts in all sorts of angry positions. “Oh my, fuck!”
My stomach clenches.
One thing about my mother, she does not entertain expletives. She may have grown up hard, on the wrong side of Neiman Marcus, but she doesn’t willfully let an offensive word fly—unless, of course, something is very fucking wrong.
“Holy shit,” she says it dazed, her hand touching her forehead. “All right. I will.” She hangs up in haste. Her pale eyes lock over mine, her face serious as stone, but I can see the rage, the anger, the disappointment bubbling in her blood long before she bats a lash.
She knows.
