ANewYorkTimes,USAToday,andWallStreetJournalbestsellingauthor,ELLEKENNEDYgrewupinthesuburbsofToronto,Ontario,andistheauthorofmorethanfortyromanticsuspenseandcontemporaryromancenovels,includingtheinternationalbestsellingOff-CampusandBriarUseriesAlsobyElleKennedy
THEOUTLAWSSERIES
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PublishedbyPiatkus
ISBN:978-0-349-42882-6
Allcharactersandeventsinthispublication,otherthanthoseclearlyinthepublicdomain,arefictitiousandanyresemblancetorealpersons,livingordead,ispurelycoincidental.
Copyright?2022byElleKennedy
Themoralrightoftheauthorhasbeenasserted.
ExcerptfromBadGirlReputation?2022byElleKennedy
Allrightsreserved.Nopartofthispublicationmaybereproduced,storedinaretrievalsystem,ortransmitted,inanyformorbyanymeans,withoutthepriorpermissioninwritingofthepublisher.
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www.hachette.co.ukContents
AbouttheAuthor
AlsobyElleKennedy
TitlePage
Copyright
ChapterOne
ChapterTwo
ChapterThree
ChapterFour
ChapterFive
ChapterSix
ChapterSeven
ChapterEight
ChapterNine
ChapterTen
ChapterEleven
ChapterTwelve
ChapterThirteen
ChapterFourteen
ChapterFifteen
ChapterSixteen
ChapterSeventeen
ChapterEighteen
ChapterNineteen
ChapterTwenty
ChapterTwenty-One
ChapterTwenty-Two
ChapterTwenty-Three
ChapterTwenty-Four
ChapterTwenty-Five
ChapterTwenty-Six
ChapterTwenty-Seven
ChapterTwenty-Eight
ChapterTwenty-Nine
ChapterThirty
ChapterThirty-One
ChapterThirty-Two
ChapterThirty-Three
ChapterThirty-Four
ChapterThirty-Five
ChapterThirty-Six
ChapterThirty-Seven
ChapterThirty-Eight
ChapterThirty-Nine
ChapterForty
ChapterForty-One
ChapterForty-Two
ChapterForty-Three
ChapterForty-Four
ChapterForty-Five
AcknowledgmentsCHAPTERONE
COOPER
I’muptomyeyeballsinJ?gerbombs.Yesterday,Iwasmarriedtotheblender,pumpingoutpi?acoladasandstrawberrydaiquirislikesweatshoplabor.Tonight,it’svodkaRedBullsandFireballs.Anddon’tforgettherosé.Thesedipshitsandtheirrosé.They’reallslammedagainstthebar,wall-to-wallpastellinenshirtsandthree-hundred-dollarhaircuts,shoutingdrinkordersatme.It’stoohotforthisshit.
InAvalonBay,theseasonsaremarkedbyanendlesscycleofexodusandinvasion.Thewaythetidesturninastorm:Summerendsandthechurnbegins.Sunburnedtouristspackuptheirminivansandsugar-slatheredkidsandheadinland,backtosuburbsandcubicles.Replacedbythesurgeofspray-tannedcollegebrats—theclonearmiesreturningtoGarnetCollege.Thesearethetrust-fundbabieswhosecoastalpalacesblockouttheoceanviewsfortherestofusscrapingbyonthechangethatfallsfromtheirpockets.
“Hey,bro,sixshotsoftequila!”someclonebarks,slappingacreditcarddownonthestickywetwoodofthebartoplikeIshouldbeimpressed.Really,he’sjustanothertypicalGarnetfuckheadwhowalkedstraightoutofaSperrycatalog.
“Remindmewhywedothis,”IsaytoStephasIrackupalineofJackandCokesforheratthewaitressstand.
ShereachesintoherbraandliftseachbreastsotheysithigherandfullerinherblackJoe’sBeachfrontBartanktop.“Thetips,Coop.”
Right.Nothingspendsfasterthansomebodyelse’smoney.Richkidsspittingbillsinagameofone-upmanship,allcourtesyofDaddy’screditcard.
WeekendsontheboardwalkarelikeMardiGras.TonightisthelastFridaybeforethefallsemesteratGarnetbegins,andthatmeansthreedaysofragingstraighttoMondaymorning,thebarsburstingattheseams.We’repracticallyprintingmoney.NotthatIplantodothisforever.ImoonlighthereontheweekendstosaveupsomeextradoughsoIcanstopworkingforotherpeopleandstartbeingmyownboss.OnceI’vegotenoughsaved,myassisoutfrombehindthisbarforgood.
“Watchoutforyourself,”IwarnStephassheplacesthedrinksonhertray.“Hollerifyouneedmetograbthebat.”
Itwouldn’tbethefirsttimeIroughedsomeoneupwhocouldn’ttakenoforananswer.
Nightslikethis,there’sadifferentenergy.Humiditysothickyoucanslatherthesaltyaironlikesunscreen.Bodiesonbodies,zeroinhibitions,andtequila-infusedtestosteronefullofbadintentions.
Fortunately,Steph’satoughgirl.“Icanmanage.”Withawinkshetakesthedrinks,plastersasmileonherface,andspinsaround,longblackponytailswinging.
Idon’tknowhowshetoleratesit,thesedudespawingalloverher.Don’tgetmewrong,Igetmyfairshareoffemaleattention.Somegetprettybold,toofriendly.Butwithchicks,youthrowthemagrinandashot,theygiggletotheirfriendsandleaveyoualone.Nottheseguys,though.ThecrewteamdouchebagsandGreekRowfuckboys.Stephisconstantlygettinggrabbedandgropedandhavingallmannerofvulgaritiesslitheredintoherearoverthescreechoftheblaringmusic.Tohercredit,shehardlyeverpunchesanyofthem.
It’saconstantgrind.Cateringtotheseasonalparasites,thisinvasivespeciesthatusesuslocalsup,sucksusdry,andleavestheirgarbagebehind.
Andyet,thistownwouldhardlyexistwithoutthem.
“Yo!Letmegetthoseshots!”theclonebarksagain.
Inod,asiftosayComingrightup,whenwhatIreallymeanisThisismeignoringyouonpurpose.Instead,awhistleattheotherendofthebarcatchesmyattention.
Localsgetservedfirst.Withoutexception.Followedbyregularswhotipwell,peoplewhoarepolite,hotwomen,littleoldladies,andthentherestoftheseoverfedjackasses.Attheendofthebar,IputdownashotofbourbonforHeidiandpouranotherformyself.Wetoss’embackandIgiveherarefill
“Whatareyoudoinginhere?”Iask,becausenoself-respectinglocalisontheboardwalktonight.Toomanycloneskillthevibe.
“DroppingoffSteph’skeys.Hadtorunbyherplace.”Heidiwastheprettiestgirlinthefirstgrade,andnotmuchhaschangedsince.Eveninrattycutoffshortsandaplainbluecroptop,she’sundeniablythehottestwomaninthisbar.“Youclosingtonight?”
“Yeah,won’tbeouttaheretillthree,probably.”
“Wannacomebyafter?”Heidipushesuponhertoestoleanacrossthebar.
“Nah,I’mpullingadoubletomorrow.Gottagetsomesleep.”
Shepouts.Playfullyatfirst,thenmoreflippantwhensherealizesI’mnotinterestedinhookinguptonight.Wemight’veindulgedinastringofhookupsearlierthissummer,butmakingthataregularthingwithoneofmybestfriendsstartstoresemblearelationship,andthat’snotwhereI’mtryingtogo.Ikeephopingshe’llrealizethatandstopasking.
“Hey.Hey!”Theimpatienttowheadeddudeattheotherendofthebartriesflaggingme.“IsweartoGod,man,Iwilltossyouahundred-dollarbillforafuckingshot.”
“Youbettergetbacktowork,”Heidisayswithasarcasticsmile,blowingmeakiss.
Itakemysweettimewalkingovertohim.He’sstraightoffthecloneconveyorbelt:standard-issuepreppyKendollwithasidepartandthebestsmiledentalinsurancecanbuy.Besidehimareacoupleoffactory-madesidekickswhoseideaofmanuallaborisprobablyhavingtowipetheirownasses.
“Let’sseeit,”Idarehim.
ThecloneslapsdownaBenjamin.Soproudofhimself.IpourasingleshotofwhiskeybecauseIdon’trememberwhatheaskedforandslideittohim.Hereleasesthebilltotaketheglass.Isnatchitupandpocketit.
“Iorderedsixshots,”hesays,smug.
“PutdownanotherfivehundredandI’llpour’em.”
Iexpecthimtowhine,throwafit.Insteadhelaughs,shakinghisfingeratme.Tohim,thisissomeofthatcharminglocalcolortheycomeslummingitdownheretofind.Richkidslovegettingrolled.
Tomyabsoluteamazement,thisknuckleheadflicksoutfivemorebillsfromawadofcashandlaysthemonthebar.“Thebestyougot,”hesays.
ThebestthisbarkeepsinstockissomeJohnnieWalkerBlueandatequilaIcan’tpronounce.Neitherismorethanfivehundreddollarsretailforabottle.SoIactimpressedandgetuponastooltopullthedustybottleoftequilafromthetopshelfbecause,okay,Ididrememberwhatheaskedfor,andpourthemtheiroverpricedshots.
Atthat,RichieRichissatisfiedandwandersofftoatable.
MyfellowbartenderLennygivesmetheside-eye.IknowIshouldn’tencouragethisbehavior.Itonlyreinforcestheideathatwe’reforsale,thattheyownthistown.Butscrewit,I’mnotabouttobeslingingdrinkstillI’mdead.I’vegotbiggerplans.
“Whattimedoyougetoff?”afemalevoicepurrsfrommyleftside.
Iturnslowly,waitingforthepunchline.Traditionally,thatquestionisfollowedbyoneoftwooptions:
“BecauseIwantyoutogetmeoff.”
Or,“BecauseIcan’twaittogetyouoff.”
Thefollow-upisaneasywaytodeterminewhetheryou’reendingupwithawomanwho’sselfishinthesackoronewholovesdolingoutBJs.
Neitherisaparticularlyoriginalpickupline,butnobodysaidthecloneswhoswarmtheBayeveryyearwereoriginal.
“Well?”theblondepresses,andIrealizethere’snocheesylineinstoreforme.
“Barclosesattwo,”Ianswereasily.
“Hangoutwithusafteryougetoff,”sheurges.Sheandherfriendbothhaveshinyhair,perfectbodies,andskinglowingfromadayspentinthesun.They’recute,butI’mnotinthemoodforwhatthey’reoffering.
“Sorry.Can’t,”Ianswer.“Butyoushouldkeepaneyeoutforsomeonewholooksexactlylikeme.Mytwinbrotherisaroundheresomewhere.”Iwaveahandtowardthethrongofbodiespackingtheplacelikesardinesinatin.“I’msurehe’dlovetoentertainyou.”
IsayitmostlybecauseIknowit’llannoyEvan.Thoughontheotherhand,maybehe’llthankme.Hemightdespisetheclones,buthedoesn’tseemtomindtherichprincesseswhenthey’renaked.Iswearthedude’stryingtosleephiswaythroughthistown.Heclaimshe’s“bored.”IlethimbelievethatIbelievehim.
“Omigod,there’stwoofyou?”Almostimmediately,bothgirlsbecomestarry-eyed.
Igrabaglassandshovelsomeicecubesintoit.“Yup.Hisname’sEvan,”Iaddhelpfully.“Ifyoufindhim,tellhimCoopersentyou.”
Whentheyfinallywanderoff,fruitycocktailsinhand,Ibreatheasighofrelief.
Bartendingissuchacrapgig.
Ipushawhiskeyontherockstowardtheskinnydudewhoorderedit,takethecashhehandsme.Irunahandthroughmyhairanddrawabreathbeforegoingtothenextcustomer.Formostofthenight,thedrunkenmassesmanagetokeeptheirshittogether.Daryl,thedoorman,kicksoutanyonehesuspectsmightprojectilevomit,whileLennyandIsmackawayanyidiotswhogetitintotheirheadstoreachbehindthebar.
IkeepaneyeonStephandtheotherfemaleserversastheyworkthecrowd.Steph’sgotatablefullofGarnetdudessalivatingoverher.She’ssmiling,butIknowthatlook.Whenshetriestowalkaway,oneofthemgrabsheraroundthewaist.
Myeyesnarrow.It’sthesameguyItookforsixbills.
I’mdamnnearoverthebarwhenhereyesfindmine.Asifsheknowswhat’sabouttohappen,sheshakesherhead.Thensheslylydisentwinesherselffromthehandsyprickandcomesbacktothewaitressstand.
“Wantmetotoss’em?”Iaskher.
“Nah.Icanhandlethem.”
“Iknow.Butyoudon’thaveto.Ipulledsixhundredfromthosedumbasses.I’llsplititwithyou.Letmegetridofthem.”
“It’sallgood.JustgetmethreeCoronasandtwoJ?g—”
“Donotevensayit.”Mywholebodywincesattheword.IfIneverhavetosmellthatvileblackshiteveragain,it’llbetoosoon.“Igottagetsomenoseplugs.”
“It’slikeyou’vegotshellshock,”shelaughs,watchingmesufferthroughthesepours.
“Ishouldbegettinghazardpay.”Ifinishupandpushthedrinkstoher.“Seriously,though,ifthoseguyscan’tkeeptheirhandstothemselves,I’mcomingoverthere.”
“I’mfine.But,man,Iwishthey’djustleave.Idon’tknowwho’sworsetonight—Mr.GrabbyHands,orthatsenioronthepatiowho’scryingabouthisdaddyrenegingonhispromisetobuyhimayachtforgraduation.”
Isnicker.
Stephwaltzesoffwithasighandafulltrayofdrinks.
Forthebetterpartofanhour,Idon’tlookup.Theroomissodensethefacesblurintoasmudgeofflesh,andallIdoispourandslidecreditcardsuntilI’minatrance,barelyawareofmyactions.
ThenexttimeIcheckonSteph,it’stoseeRichieRichtryingtopersuadehertodancewithhim.She’slikeaboxer,bobbingandweavingtogetawayfromthedude.Ican’tmakeoutherexactwords,butit’seasytoguess—I’mworking,pleaseletmegetbacktowork,Ican’tdancewithyou,I’mworking
She’stryingtoremaincourteous,butherblazingeyestellmeshe’sfedup.
“Len,”Icall,noddingtowardtheunfoldingscene.“Gimmeasec.”
Henodsback.Wetakecareofourown
Istrideover,knowingIposeamenacingpicture.I’msixtwo,haven’tshavedindays,andmyhaircoulduseatrim.HopefullyIlookmenacingenoughtodeterthesebrosfromdoingsomethingstupid.
“Everythingokayhere?”IinquirewhenIreachthegroup.MytonesaysIknowit’snotandhe’dbetterstoporI’mgoingtotosshimoutonhisass.
“Fuckoff,carnie,”oneofthemcracks.
Theinsultrollsrightoffme.I’musedtoit.
Iraiseabrow.“I’mnotleavingunlessmycolleaguetellsmetogo.”IlookpointedlyatRichieRich’shand,whichislatchedontoSteph’sarm.“Shedidn’tsignuptogetgropedbyrichboys.”
Theguyhasthesensetoremovehishand.Stephusestheopportunitytoclambertomyside.
“See?Allgood.”Hesneersatme.“Nodistresseddamselsrequiringrescue.”
“Makesuretokeepitthatway.”Ipunctuatethewarningwithasneerofmyown.“Andkeepyourhandstoyourself.”
StephandIareabouttoheadoffwhenaglassbreaks.
Nomatterhowloudaroom,howfulltothebrimwithsound-dampeningbodies,aglassshattersonthefloorand,intheimmediatesecondsafter,youcanhearahummingbird’swingsfluttertwocountiesaway.
Everyheadturns.OneofRichieRich’sbuddies,who’ddroppedtheglass,isblinkinginnocentlywhenImeethisgaze.
“Oops,”hesays.
Laughterandapplausecrushthemomentarysilence.Thenconversationbubblesupagain,andthecollectiveattentionofthebarreturnstoitspreviouslyintoxicatedamusements.
“Fuck’ssake,”Stephmuttersunderherbreath.“Gobacktothebar,Coop.Igotthis.”
Shemarchesoffwithanannoyedfrown,whilethedouchecrewdismissesusfromtheirholypresenceandproceedstochatloudlyandlaughamongstthemselves.
“Allgood?”LennyaskswhenIreturn.
“Notsure.”
Iglancebacktowardthegroup,frowningwhenInoticetheirleaderisnolongerwiththem.Wherethehelldidhego?
“No,”Isayslowly.“Idon’tthinkit’sgood.Givemeanothersec.”
Onceagain,IleaveLennytomanthebattlestationsalonewhileIduckoutfrombehindthebartofindSteph.Iheadtowardtheback,figuringshewentforabroomtosweepuptheglass.
That’swhenIhear,“Getoffme!”
Ithrowmyselfaroundthecorner,myjawtighteningwhenIspotRichieRich’spastelpolo.HehasStephcorneredattheendoftheshort,narrowhallwherethesupplyclosetislocated.Whenshetriestodiparoundhim,hestepsinherway,grabbingherwrist.Hisotherhandslidesdownwardandattemptstocupherass.
Nah,screwthis.
Ichargeforwardandyankhimbyhiscollar.Asecondlater,Ilayhisassflatoutonthestickyfloor.
“Getout,”Igrowl.
“Cooper.”Stephgrabsme,evenasgratitudeshinesinhereyes.Iknowsheappreciatesthesave.
Ishakeheroff,becauseenoughisenough.“Getupandleave,”Itellthestartledpunk.
He’syellingoutangrycursesasheclimbstohisfeet.
Becausetherestroomsarerightaroundthecornerabouttenfeetaway,itdoesn’ttakelongforhisshoutsofoutragetodrawanaudience.Agroupofscreechingsororitysistershurryover,followedbyothercuriousbystanders.
Suddenlymorevoicesfillthecorridor.
“Pres!Bro,youalright?”
Twoofhisfriendsbreakthroughthecrowd.Theypuffuptheirchestsbesidehim,flankingtheirchampionbecauseiftheygetchasedoutofhereinfrontofallthesepeople,it’sgoingtobealongyearofdrinkingaloneathome.
“Thehell’syourproblem,man?”thegroperspitsout,glaringdaggersatme.
“Noproblemanymore,”Ireply,crossingmyarms.“Justtakingoutthetrash.”
“Yousmellthat,Preston?”hisbuddysaystoRichieRichwithagoadinggrin.“Somethingsurestinksinhere.”
“Wasthatadumpsteroutsideoryourtrailer?”theothermocks.
“Please,taketwostepscloserandsaythatagain,”Iencouragethembecause,whatever,I’mboredandthesedudes’facesarebeggingtogetsmashed.
Iassessmychances.It’sthreeonone,andtheyaren’tscrawny—eachofthemaroundsixfeettall,aboutmysize.TheycouldbehalfawaterpoloteamsponsoredbyBrooksBrothers.Butme,Iactuallyworkforaliving,andthesemusclesaren’tforshow.SoIlikemyodds.
“Coop,stop.”Stephpushesmetothesidetostandbetweenus.“Forgetit.Igotthisnow.Gobacktothebar.”
“Yeah,Coop,”Prestontaunts.Then,tohisbuddies,“Nopieceoftownieassisworththismuchtrouble.”
IlookatStephandshrug.RichprickshouldhavewalkedawaywhenIgavehimthechance.
Whilehe’sstilllaughing,sosmuginhissuperiority,Ireachout,grabafistfulofhisRalphLaurenanddrivemyfiststraightintohisface.
Hestaggers,fallingintohisfriends,whopushhimatme.Bloody,helungeslikeacreatureinthethirdactofahorrorfilm,swingingatme,smearingblood.Wecrashintothescreamingsororitygirlsuntilwe’reagainstawall.Theoldpayphonethathasn’toperatedinfifteenyearsdigsintomyback,whichgivesPrestonachancetolandaluckypunchtomyjaw.ThenIspinusaround,pinhimagainstthedrywall.I’mabouttosmashhisdamnfaceinwhenJoe,theowner,alongwithDarylandLenny,holdmebackanddragmeaway.
“Youstupidtownietrash,”hegurglesatme.“Youhaveanyideahowdeadyouare?”
“Enough!”Joeshouts.ThegrizzledVietnamvetwithagrayhippiebeardandponytailpointsafatfingeratPreston.“Getonoutofhere.There’snofightinginmybar.”
“Iwantthispsychofired,”Prestonorders.
“Kissmyass.”
“Coop,shutit,”Joesays.HeletsLennyandDarylreleaseme.“I’mdockingyourpayforthis.”
“Itwasn’tCoop’sfault,”Stephtellsourboss.“Thisguywasalloverme.Thenhefollowedmetothesupplyclosetandtrappedmeinthehallway.Cooperwastryingtokickhimout.”
“Doyouknowwhomyfatheris?”Squeezinghisleakingnoseshut,Prestonseethes.“Hisbankownshalfthebuildingsonthisfilthyboardwalk.Onewordfrommeandyourlifegetsrealcomplicated.”
Joe’slipstighten.
“Youremployeeputhishandsonme,”Prestoncontinuesangrily.“Idon’tknowhowyourunthisrathole,butifthishappenedanywhereelse,thepersonwhoassaultedacustomerwouldnolongerbeemployed.”Thesmirkonhisfaceactuallymakesmyfiststingle.Iwanttostranglehimwithmybarehands.“Soeitheryouhandlethis,orIpickupthephoneandcallmyfathertodoitforyou.Iknowit’slate,butdon’tyouworry,he’llbeawake.He’sanightowl.”Thesmirkdeepens.“That’showhemadeallhisbillions.”
There’salongbeatofsilence.
ThenJoeletsoutasigh,turningtome.
“Youcan’tbeserious,”Isayinamazement.
JoeandIgobackaways.MybrotherandIusedtobarbackhereinthesummersduringhighschool.Wehelpedhimrebuildaftertwohurricanes.Itookhisdaughtertohomecoming,forchrissake.
Lookingresigned,herunsahandoverhisbeard.
“Joe.Seriously,man.You’regonnaletoneofthemtellyouhowtorunyourbar?”
“I’msorry,”Joefinallysays.Heshakeshishead.“Ihavetothinkaboutmybusiness.Myfamily.Youwenttoofarthistime,Coop.TakewhatIoweyouforthenightoutoftheregister.I’llhaveacheckforyouinthemorning.”
Satisfiedwithhimself,RichieRichsneersatme.“See,townie?That’showtherealworldworks.”HetossesabloodywadofcashatStephandspitsoutathickclumpofbloodandmucus.“Here.Cleanthisplaceup,sweetheart.”
“Thisisn’tover,”IwarnPrestonasheandhisfriendssaunteraway.
“Itwasoverbeforeitbegan,”hecallssnidelyoverhisshoulder.“You’retheonlyonewhodidn’tknowthat.”
StaringatJoe,Iseethedefeatinhiseyes.Hedoesn’thavethestrengthordesiretofightthesebattlesanymore.That’showtheygetus.Byinches.Breakingusdownuntilwe’retootiredtoholdonanylonger.Thentheypryourland,ourbusinesses,ourdignityfromourdyinghands.
“Youknow,”ItellJoe,pickingupthecashandsmackingitinhishand.“Everytimeoneofusgivesintooneofthem,wemakeitalittleeasierforthemtoscrewusthenexttime.”
Except…no.Fuckthe“nexttime.”Thesepeoplearenevergettinganexttimefromme.CHAPTERTWO
MACKENZIE
Sinceleavingmyparents’houseinCharlestonthismorning,I’vehadanitchinthebackofmyskull,anditonlykeepsgrowingmoreinsistent,tellingmetoturnaround.Takeoff.Runaway.Jointheproverbialcircusandrage,rageagainstthedyingofmygapyear.
Now,asmytaxidrivesthroughthetunnelofburoakstoTallyHallontheGarnetCollegecampus,apurecoldpanichassetin.
Thisisreallyhappening.
Beyondthegreenlawnandlinesofcars,swarmingfreshmenandtheirparentscartboxesintotheredbrickbuildingstretchingfourstoriesintotheclearbluesky.Whitetrimframestherowsofwindowsandtheroof,adistinctcharacteristicofoneofthefiveoriginalbuildingsonthehistoriccampus.
“I’llberightbacktograbthoseboxes,”Itellmydriver.Islingmyduffelovermyshoulder,andsetmyrollingsuitcaseontheground.“JustwanttomakesureI’mintherightplace.”
“Noprob.Takeyourtime.”He’sunruffled,probablybecausemyparentspaidhimahugeflatfeetoplaychauffeurfortheday.
AsIwalkunderthemassiveironlanternthathangsfromthebeamabovethefrontdoors,Ifeellikeacapturedfugitivereturningafterayearonthelam.Itwastoogoodtolast.HowamIsupposedtogobacktohomeworkandpopquizzes?MylifedictatedbyTAsandsyllabiwhenI’vebeenmyownbossforthelasttwelvemonths.
AmotherstopsmeonthestairstoaskifI’mthedorm’sresidentadvisor.Awesome.Ifeelancient.Afreshwaveoftemptationtoturnonmyheelsandsplitsimmersinmygut,butIforcemyselftoignoreit.
Isloguptothefourthfloorwheretheroomsarealittlebigger,alittlenicer,forthoseparentswillingtoleveragetheGDPofasmallislandnation.Accordingtotheemailonmyphone,I’minroom402.
Inside,asmalllivingroomandkitchenettedividethetwobedroomsoneitherside.Theroomontheleftcontainsanemptybedwithamatchingwoodendeskanddresser.Totheright,throughthewide-opendoor,ablondeinapairofcutoffsandnoshirtbouncesandswayswhileputtingclothesonhangers.
“Hello?”Isay,tryingtogetherattention.Idropmybagsonthefloor.“Hi?”
Stillshedoesn’thearme.Tentative,Iwalkupandtapherontheshoulder.Shejumpsoutofhersandalsandslapsahandoverhermouthtomuffleayelp.
“Ooh,girl,yougotme!”shesaysinathickSouthernaccent.Breathinghard,shepullsthewirelessearbudsfromherearsandshovestheminherpocket.“’Boutpeedmypants.”
Herboobsarerightthereinalltheirbareglory,andshe’smakingnoefforttoshieldherself.Itrytolookherintheeyesbutthatprovesawkward,soIdivertmyattentiontowardthewindows.
“Sorrytobargein.Ididn’texpect…”tofindmyroommateengagedinthefirstactofanamateurporno
Sheshrugs,smiling.“Don’tsweatit.”
“Ican,uh,comebackinafewminutes,if…?”
“Naw,you’refine,”sheassuresme
Ican’thelpbutglanceatherstandingwithherhandsonherhips,pointingthehigh-beamsatme.“WasthereanudistboxonthehousingformIcheckedbyaccident?”
Shelaughs,thenfinallyreachesforatanktop.“Iliketocleansetheenergyofaplace.Ahouseain’tahometillyouspenttimeinitnaked,right?”
“Theblindsareopen,”Ipointout.
“Notanlines,”sheanswerswithawink.“I’mBonnieMayBeauchamp.Guesswe’reroomies.”
“MackenzieCabot.”
Shesmooshesmeinatighthug.OrdinarilyI’dconsiderthisagrievousassaultonmypersonalboundaries.But,forsomereason,Ican’tfinditinmetobeputoffbythisgirl.Maybeshe’sawitch.Hypnotizingmewithherwitchtits.Still,Igetagoodvibefromher.
Shehassoft,roundfeaturesandbig,browneyes.Abrightwhitegrinthat’sequallynon-threateningtowomenandapproachabletomen.Everyone’slittlesister.Butwithboobs.
“Where’sallyourstuff?”sheasksuponreleasingme.
“Myboyfriend’scomingbylaterwithmostofit.Ihaveafewthingsinthecardownstairs.Thedriver’swaitingonme.”
“I’llhelpyoubringitup.”
Thereisn’tmuch,onlyacoupleboxes,butIappreciatetheofferandthecompany.Wegrabtheboxesandtossthemintheroom,thenwanderthehallsforabit,checkingouttheneighborhood.
“YoufromSouthCarolina?”Bonnieasks.
“Charleston.You?”
“I’mfromGeorgia.DaddywantedmetogotoGeorgiaState,butmymommawenttoGarnet,sotheymadeabetontheoutcomeofafootballgameandhereIam.”
Downonthethirdfloor,there’sadudewalkingaroundwithabackpackcooleroffroséwhotriestoofferuseachacupinexchangeforourphonenumbers.Hisarms,chest,andbackarecoveredinscribbledblackpermanentmarker,withmostofthenumbersmissingadigitortwo.Certainlyallofthemfake.
Wepassontheofferandgrintoourselves,leavinghiminourwake.
“Didyoutransferfromsomewhere?”Bonniesaysaswecontinueourwaythroughthebazaarofmicrocommunities.“Imean,don’ttakethisthewrongwayornothin’,butyoudon’tlooklikeafreshman.”
Iknewthiswouldhappen.Ifeellikethecampcounselor.Twoyearsolderthanmypeers,onaccountofmygapyearandthefactthatIstartedkindergartenayearlate,whenmyparentsdecidedtoextendaMediterraneansailingtripratherthangetmehomeintimeforschool.
“Itookagapyear.MadeadealwithmyparentsthatI’dgotowhateverschooltheychoseiftheyletmeworkonmybusinessfirst.”Thoughifitwereuptome,I’dhaveskippedthischapterofthecoming-of-agestorycompletely
“Yougotyourownbusinessalready?”Bonniedemands,wide-eyed.“Ispentallsummerwatchin’Vanderpumprerunsandpartyin’atthelake.”
“Ibuiltawebsiteandanapp,”Iadmit.“Imean,it’snothingmajor.NotlikeIfoundedTeslaoranything.”
“Whatkindofapp?”
“It’sasitewherepeoplepostfunnyorembarrassingboyfriendstories.Itstartedasajokeforsomeofmyfriendsfromhighschool,butthenitsortofblewup.Lastyear,Ilaunchedanothersiteforpeopletopostabouttheirgirlfriends.”
Whatbeganasmeandabloghadballoonedinthepastyeartoincludehiringanadmanager,sitemoderators,andamarketingteam.Ihavepayrollandtaxesandsevenfiguresinmybusinesscheckingaccount.Andsomewhereontopofallthat,I’msupposedtoworryaboutessaysandmidterms?Adeal’sadeal,andI’masgoodasmyword,butthiswholecollegethingseemspointless.
“OhmyGod,Iknowthatsite.”Bonniesmacksmyarmexcitedly.Girl’sgotsteelrodsforfingers.“BoyfriendFails!Holyshit.MygirlsandIprobablyspentmoretimereadin’thosesenioryearthandoin’ourhomework.What’stheone?’Bouttheboyfriendwhogotfoodpoisoningafteradateandthegirl’sdadwasdrivin’themhomeandtheguygotmassivediarrheainthebackseat!”
Shedoublesoverinabsolutehysterics.IcrackasmilebecauseIrememberthatpostwell.Itgotoverthreehundredthousandclicks,thousandsofcomments,anddoubletheadrevenueofanyotherpostthatmonth.
“Wow,”shesays,onceshe’sregainedhercomposure.“Youreallymakemoneyoffthosethings?”
“Yeah,fromhostingads.Theydoprettywell.”Ishrugmodestly.
“That’ssocool.”Bonniepouts.“I’mjealous.IgotnoideawhatI’mdoin’here,Mac.CanIcallyouMacordoyoupreferMackenzie?Mackenziesoundssoformal.”
“Mac’sfine,”Iassureher,tryingnottolaugh.
“Afterhighschool,collegeisathingI’msupposedtodo,y’know?’CeptheckifIgotanyideawhatI’msupposedtomajorinorwhatI’mgonnadowhenIgrowup.”
“Peoplealwayssaycollegeiswhereyougotofindyourself.”
“IthoughtthatwasPanamaCity.”
Isnicker.Ireallylikethisgirl.
Aboutanhourlater,myboyfriendshowsupwiththerestofmyboxes.It’sbeenweekssincewe’veseeneachother.IhadastupidamountofworktodoonthebusinessbeforeIcouldhanditovertomynewfull-timestaff,soIcouldn’ttakethetimeofftovisitPrestonThisisthelongestwe’vebeenapartsincethesummerhisfamilywentonvacationtoLakeComo.
Ihadproposedtheideaofgettinganapartmenttogetheroffcampus,butPrestonhadroundlyscoffedatthat.Whyslumitinsubparhousingwhenhe’sgotapool,apersonalchef,andamaidathome?Ididn’thaveagoodanswerthatdidn’tsoundcondescending.Ifindependencefromourparentsisn’titsownmotivationtomoveintogether,Idon’tknowwhattosay.
Independencehasbeenmysolemotivationsincehighschool.Livingwithmyfamilywaslikesinkinginapitofquicksand—onethatwould’veswallowedmewholeifIhadn’tyankedoutmyownhairtofashionaropeandpullmyselfout.Iwasn’tbuilttobekept.Maybethat’swhy,whentheboyfriendIhaven’tseeninoveramonthenterstheroomwiththefirstloadofboxes,I’mnotoverwhelmedwithloin-deeplongingorthatsuddenrushofexcitementaftertimespentapart.
NotthatIdidn’tmisshimorthatI’mnothappyhe’shere.It’sjust…IcanremembercrushesIhadinmiddleschoolwherethetimebetweenseeingthematlunchandsixthperiodfeltlikeaneternitythattoreatmylittle,pubescentheart.I’vegrownup,Isuppose.PrestonandIarecomfortable.Steady.Practicallyanoldmarriedcouple.
There’salottobesaidforsteady.
“Hey,babe.”Alittlesweatyfromfourflightsofstairs,Preswrapsmeinatighthugandkissesmeontheforehead.“Missedyou.Youlookgreat.”
“Sodoyou.”Attractioncertainlyisn’ttheproblem;Preston’saboutaspicture-perfecthandsomeasitgets.He’stall,withaslimbutathleticbuild.Gorgeousblueeyesthatseemimpossiblybrightwhenthesuncatchesthem.Aclassicangularfacethatcollectsattentioneverywherehegoes.He’sgottenahaircutsincethelasttimeIsawhim,hisblondhairalittlelongontopbutcutcloseonthesides.
It’sthenthatheturnshisheadslightlyandInoticehisfacemarkedbybruisesaroundhisnoseandrighteye.
“Whathappenedtoyou?”Iaskinalarm.
“Oh,yeah.”Hetoucheshiseyeandshrugs.“GuysandIwereplayingbasketballtheotherdayandItookaballtotheface.Nobiggie.”
“Yousure?Thatlookslikeithurt.”It’snasty,honestly,likeaburnt,runnyeggonthesideofhisface.
“I’mgood.Oh,beforeIforget.Igotyouthis.”
Hereachesintothebackpocketofhiskhakisandpullsoutaplasticcard.ThewordsBIGJAVAarewrittenacrossit.
Iacceptthegiftcard.“Oh,thanks,babe.Isthisforthecoffeeplaceoncampus?”
Henodsearnestly.“Figureditwasthemostfitting‘welcometocollege’giftforacoffeefiendlikeyou.Iloadedacouplegrandonit,soyou’reallset.”
Atthekitchenette,aneavesdroppingBonniegasps.“Acouplegrand?”shesquawks.
Okay,twothousanddollars’worthofcoffeeisabitextreme,butoneofthethingsIloveaboutPresishowthoughtfulheis.Drivingthreehourstomyparents’housetopickupmystuffonhisown,thenallthewaybacktocampus,andhedoesitwithasmile.Hedoesn’tcomplainormakemeouttobeaburden.Hedoesittobenice.
There’salottobesaidfornice.
Iglanceatmyroommate.“Bonnie,thisismyboyfriend,Preston.Pres,thisisBonnie.”
“Nicetomeetyou,”hesayswithagenuinesmile.“I’mgoingtograbtherestofMac’sboxes,thenhowaboutItakeyoubothoutforlunch?”
“I’min,”Bonniereplies.“I’mstarved.”
“That’dbegreat,”Itellhim.“Thankyou.”
Oncehe’sgone,Bonniegivesmeasillygrinandathumbs-up.“Nicejob.Howlongyoubeentogether?”
“Fouryears.”Ifollowherintothesharedbathroomsowecanfixourhairandgetreadyforlunch.“Wewenttothesameprepschool.Iwasasophomore,hewasasenior.”
I’veknownPrestonsincewewerekids,althoughweweren’texactlyfriendsgrowingup,giventheagedifference.I’dseehimaroundthecountryclubwhenmyparentsdraggedmeoutwiththem,atholidaygatherings,fundraisers,andwhatnot.WhenIstartedschoolatSpencerHill,hewasniceenoughtoacknowledgemeinthehallsandsayhitomeatparties—helpingmegainsomeofthecloutIneededtosurviveandthriveintheshark-infestedwatersofaprepschool.
“Youmustberelievedtofinallygettocollegewithhim.Ifthatwereme,I’dabeenouttamymindwonderin’whathewasgettin’uptoouthereonhisown.”
“It’snotthatwaywithus,”Isay,brushingoutmyhair.“Preston’snotthecheatingtype.He’sbigonfamilyandtheplan,youknow?”
“Plan?”
It’sneversoundedweirduntilBonnielooksatmeinthemirrorwitharaisedeyebrow.
“Well,ourparentshavebeenfriendsforyears,soafterwe’dbeendatingawhile,itwassortofunderstoodthateventuallyweweregoingtograduate,getmarried,allthat.Youknow,theplan.”
Shestaresatme,herfacecrinkled.“Andyou’re…okaywiththatplan?”
“Whywouldn’tIbe?”
That’sdamnnearverbatimhowmyparentsendeduptogether.Andtheirparents.Iknowitsoundsonlyacouplestepsawayfromanold-worldarrangedmarriagething,andtobehonest,IsuspectPrestongottalkedintotakingmeoutthatfirsttime.Hewastheupperclassman.Iwastheawkwardsophomorewhostillhadn’tmasteredaflatiron.ButwhetherornotitwasinitiallysuggestedtoPresbyhisparents,neitherofusfeltlikewewerebeingforcedtodate.Wegenuinelyenjoyedeachother’scompany,andstilldo.
“Ifthatwasme,I’dbeprettybummedthatmywholelifewasplannedbeforeIevenstartedmyfirstdayofcollege.It’slikegettin’themoviespoiledwhenI’mstandin’inlineforpopcorn.”Bonnieshrugs,dabbingonsomelipgloss.“But,hey,longasyou’rehappy,right?”CHAPTERTHREE
COOPER
Eversinceweweredumb,barefootkidsracingeachotherupanddownthedunes,churningupwakeinfrontofmillion-dollarmansions,andrunningfromthecops,we—themisfit,misspentyouthofAvalonBay—havehadatradition.ThelastSundayofsummerculminatesinabonfireblowout.
Theonerule:localsonly.
Tonight,mytwinbrotherandIarehostingtheshindigatourplace.Thetwo-story,low-country,cottage-stylebeachhousehasbeeninourfamilyforthreegenerations—anditshows.Theramblinghouseisindisrepairandrequiresatonofrenos,butitmakesupforitsroughexteriorwithahellofalotofcharm.Sortoflikeitsinhabitants,Isuppose.AlthoughEvanisdefinitelythemorecharmingofthetwoofus.Icanbeamoodyfucksometimes.
Onthebackdeck,Heidisidlesupbesideme,settingaflaskonthewoodenrailing.
“Wegotliquordownstairs.Tons,”Itellher.
“That’snotthepointofaflask.”
Sheputsherbacktotherailing,leaningonherelbows.Heidihasthiswayabouther.There’snothingintheworldthatcansatisfyher,herinterestsofarbeyondeveryoneandeverything.Whenwewerekids,itwasoneofthefirstthingsthatdrewmetoher.Heidi’seyeswerealwayslookingfarther.Iwantedtoseewhatshesaw.
“Thenwhat’sthepoint?”Iask.
“Feelingalittlenaughty.Aflaskisasecret.”
Shelooksoveratme,aslysmilepullingatherlips.She’sdoneuptonight,atleastasmuchasonedoesouthereintheBay.Haircurled.Darkredlipstick.She’swearingmyoldRancidT-shirt,whichshe’dcutintoatanktopthatnowexposesablacklacebra.Sheputalotofeffortintoherlook,andyetit’slostonme.
“Notmuchinthespirit,huh?”shesayswhenIdon’ttakethebait.
Ishrug.Because,yeah,I’mnotinthemoodforaparty.
“Wecangetoutofhere.”Heidistraightens,nodstowardaway.“Gotakeadrive.Likewhenweusedtostealyourmom’skeys,remember?WindingupinTennesseesomewhere,spendingthenightsleepinginthebedofthetruck.”
“Gettingchasedoutofanationalparkbyafuriousrangeratfoura.m.”
Shelaughs,nudgingmyarm.“Imissouradventures.”
Itakeaswigofherflask.“Sortalosestheappealwhenyouhaveyourownkeysanddrinkingislegal.”
“Ipromiseyou,there’sstillallsortsoftroublewecanmake.”
Thatflirtatioussparkinhereyesmakesmesad.Becauseweusedtohavefuntogether,andnowitfeelsstrained.Awkward.
“Coop!”Downintheyard,mybrothershoutsatme.“It’saparty,dude.Getdownhere.”
Twintelepathystillworks.IleaveHeidionthedeck,headdownstairs,andgrababeeronmywaytothebeach,whereImeetEvanaroundthebonfirewithsomeofourfriends.Idrinkwhiletheyspendthenexthourswappingthesamestorieswe’vebeentellingfortenyears.ThenourbuddyWyattorganizesagameofmoonlightfootballandmostofthecrowddriftstowardit,leavingonlyahandfulofusbythefire.Evan’sintheAdirondackchairnexttomine,laughingatsomethingourfriendAlanajustsaid,butIcan’tseemtoenjoymyselftonight.There’sabugundermyskin.Burrowing.Chewingoutholesinmyfleshandlayingeggsofangerandresentment.
“Dude.”Evankicksmyfoot.“Snapoutofit,man.”
“I’mfine.”
“Yeah,”hesayssarcastically,“Icantell.”HegrabstheemptybottleofbeerI’vebeenabsentlyholdingandtossesmeanewonefromthecooler.“You’vebeenamoodylittlebitchfortwodays.Igetyou’repissedoff,butitain’tcuteanymore.Getdrunk,smokesomeweed.Heidi’sheresomewhere.Maybeshe’llhookupwithyouagainifyouasknicely.”
Istifleagroan.Therearenosecretsinthisgroup.WhenHeidiandIfirstslepttogether,we’dbarelydugthecrustoutofoureyesthenextmorningbeforeeveryoneelseknewaboutit.Whichisjustmoreproofthatitwasabadideatogothere.Hookingupwithfriendsisonlyinvitingtrouble.
“Eatme,asshole.”Heidithrowsahandfulofsandathimfromacrossthefirepit.Sheflasheshimthebird.
“Oops,”hesays,knowingfullwellshewassittingthere.“Mybad.”
“Youknow,it’sremarkable,”Heidisaysinthatflattonethatisaglaringwarningshe’sabouttosnipyourballsoff.“Youtwoareidenticaltwins,andyetIwouldn’ttouchyourdick,Evan,evenwithCooper’sface.”
“Burn,”Alanashouts,laughingbesideHeidiandSteph.ThethreeofthemhavebeentheabsolutetormentofeveryboyintheBaysincewewereinthirdgrade.Anunholytrinityofhotnessandterror.
Evanmakesalewdgestureinresponsebecausecomebacksarenotreallyinhiswheelhouse.Thenheturnsbacktome.“Istillsaywewaittillthatcloneleaveshishouseandwejumphisass.Wordgetsaround,Coop.Peoplestarthearingyouletthatshitstand,andsuddenlythey’rethinkinganyonecanmesswithus.”
“Cooper’sluckythatprickdidn’tpresscharges,”Stephpointsout.“Butifyouturnthisintoawar,hecouldchangehismind.”
She’sright.There’snogoodreasonwhyIhaven’tspentthelasttwodaysinajailcell,otherthanthatPrestonguywassatisfiedinhumiliatingme.WhileI’dneveradmitdefeat,I’mstillhotaboutgettingfired.Evan’sright—Hartleyscan’tletthatshitstand.Wehaveareputationinthistown.Peoplesmellweakness,theystartgettingideas.Evenwhenyouhavenothing,someone’salwaystryingtotakeit.
“Whowashe,anyway?”Heidiasks.
“PrestonKincaid,”Stephsupplies.“Hisfamilyownsthatmassiveestatedownthecoastwheretheyrippedoutthosetwo-hundred-year-oldoakslastmonthtoputinathirdtenniscourt.”
“Ugh,Iknowthatguy,”Alanasays,herbrightredhairglowinginthefirelight.“Maddywasrunningherdad’sparasailingboatafewweeksago,andshetookhimoutonitwithsomechick.HewastryingtotalksomegametoMaddyrightinfrontofhisdate.Dudeactuallyaskedherout.Whenshemadesomeexcuse,right,becauseshe’sstilltryingtogetatip,hetriestopersuadeherintoathreesomerightthereontheboat.Maddysaidshedamnneartossedhimoverboard.”
Stephmakesaface.“He’ssuchacreep.”
“Thereyougo.”Evanpopsthecaponafreshbeerandtakesaswig.“He’sgotitcoming.We’dbedoingacommunityservicetobusthimdownapeg.”
Ieyemybrother,curious.
“Revenge,dude.Hetookapoundoffleshfromyou.Wetaketwofromhim.”
Havetoadmit,I’machingforpayback.Fortwodays,thischunkofseethingangerhassatinmygut,burning.Bartendingwasn’tmysolesourceofincome,butIneededthatmoney.EverythingI’vebeenworkingtowardgotalotfartherawaywhenthatjackassgotmefired.
Ithinkitover.“Can’tbeathisfaceinorI’llwindupinjail.Can’ttakehisjobbecause,comeon,whoarewekidding,dudedoesn’thaveone.Hewasbornwithasilverspoonuphisass.Sowhatelseisthere?”
“Oh,thispoor,dumbgirl,”Alanasuddenlysays,comingaroundtooursideofthefiretoshowusherphone.“Justpeepedhissocialmedia.He’sgotagirlfriend.”
Inarrowmyeyesatthescreen.Interesting.KincaidpostedastoryearliertodayaboutmovinghisgirlfriendintoherdormatGarnet.Thepostincludesheartemojisandalltheperformative,saccharinebullshitthatarethetelltalesignsofacheaterovercompensating.
“Damn,”Evanremarks,takingthephone.HeflicksthroughphotosofthemonKincaid’sobnoxiousyacht.“Chick’sactuallyhot.”
He’sright.ThepictureEvanzoomsinonshowsatall,dark-hairedgirlwithgreeneyesandtannedskin.She’swearingawhitecroppedT-shirtthat’sfallingoffoneshoulder,revealingthestrapofabluebathingsuitbeneath,andforsomereason,thatthinstripoffabricishotterthananypornographicimageI’veeverseen.It’satease.Aninvitation.
Aterribleideaformsintheworstpartofmymind.
“Takeher,”Evansays,becauseforallthewayswe’recompletelydifferent,we’reexactlythesame.
Alana’seyeslightwithmischief.“Doit.”
“What,stealhisgirlfriend?”Heididemands,incredulous.“She’snotatoy.That’s—”
“Agreatidea,”Evaninterjects.“Snipethatclone’sgirl,rubitinhisface,thendumpherrichass.”
“Gross,Evan.”HeidigetsupandsnatchesAlana’sphonefromhimastheycontinuetobicker.“She’saperson,youknow.”
“No,she’saclone.”
“YouwanthertodumpKincaid,right?Sowhycan’twejustcatchhimcheatingonher,andsendhertheproofsoshedumpshim?Sameendresult,”Heidipointsout.
“Notthesame,”mybrotherargues.
“Howisthatnotthesamething?”
“Becauseitisn’t.”EvanpointsthemouthofhisbottleatHeidi.“Itisn’tenoughforKincaidtolose.Hehastoknowwhobeathim.Wehavetomakeithurt.”
“Cooperdoesn’thavetotrickherintofallinginlovewithhim,”Alanatellsher.“Seduceherenoughthatshedumpsherboyfriend.Afewdates,tops.”
“Seduceher?Youmeanfuckher,then,”Heidisays,revealingtherealreasonshehatesthisplan.“Again,gross.”
Anyotherday,Imighthaveagreedwithher.Butnottonight.Tonight,I’mangryandbitteranditchingforblood.Besides,I’dbedoingthischickafavorrescuingherfromKincaid.Sparingheralifeofmiserywithacheatingbastardwho’donlytreatherniceenoughtoget2.5kidsouttaherbeforeshiftingallhisattentiontohismistresses
I’veencounteredguyslikePrestonKincaidmyentirelife.Oneofmyearliestmemoriesisofmyfive-year-oldselfdownatthepierwithmyfatherandbrother,confusedwhyallthosefancy-dressedpeoplewerespeakingtoDadlikehewasapieceofdogshitmashedundertheirdeckshoes.Hell,chancesareKincaid’sgirlisevenworsethanheis.
Stephbringsupapotentialsnag.“Butifhe’salreadycheatingonher,thenhowmuchdoeshereallycareaboutthisgirl?Maybegettingdumpedwon’tfazehim.”
IglanceatEvan.“She’sgotapoint.”
“Idon’tknow…”AcontemplativeAlanareachesoverHeidi’sshouldertolookatthephone.“Scrollingthrough,Ithinkthey’vebeentogetherforafewyears.Mymoney’sonthisonebeingendgameforhim.”
Thelongertheideatumblesaroundinmyhead,themoreI’mintoit.MostlyforthelookonKincaid’sfacewhenherealizesI’vewon.ButalsobecauseevenifIdidn’tknowshewasKincaid’sgirlfriend,I’dstilltrytodateher.
“Let’smakeitinteresting,”Stephsays.ShesharesalookwithAlana,comingaroundtothepossibilitiesofthisidea.“Youcan’tlie.Youcan’tpretendtobeallinlovewithher,orsleepwithherunlesssheinitiatesit.Kissingisallowed.Andyoucan’ttellhertobreakupwithhim.Ithastobeheridea.Otherwisewhat’sthepoint?WemightaswellgowithHeidi’splan.”
“Deal.”It’salmostunfairhoweasythis’llbe.
“Omissionsarelies.”Heidistandsinahuff.“Whatmakesyouthinkoneofthemwouldstepdownfromtheircloudforyouanyway?”Shedoesn’twaitforananswer.Juststormstowardthehouse.
“Ignoreher,”Alanasays.“Ilovethisplan.”
Evan,meanwhile,givesmeahardlook,thennodsinthedirectionHeidiwent.“You’vegottodosomethingaboutthat.”
Yeah,maybeIdo.Afterahandfulofhookups,HeidiandIrevertedbacktoplatonicandwerecoolallsummer.Butthensomewherethetideshiftedandsuddenlyshe’sbentoutofshapemoreoftenthannot,andit’sapparentlyallmyfault.
“She’sabiggirl,”Itellhim.
MaybeHeidi’sfeelingalittleterritorial,butshe’llgetoverit.We’vebeenfriendssincefirstgrade.Shecan’tstaymadatmeforever.
“Anyway.Finalanswerabouttheclone?”Evaneyesmeexpectantly.
Itipthebeerbottletomylips,takingaquickswig.ThenIshrugandsay,“I’min.”CHAPTERFOUR
MACKENZIE
OnSaturdaynight,ourfirstweekoffreshmanyearbehindus,Bonniepullsmeoutonthetown.Togetthelayoftheland,assheputsit.
Sofar,we’regettingalonggreatasroommates.BetterthanIexpected,actually.I’manonlychildandneverlivedanywherebutmyparents’house,soIwasabitwaryofthepoliticsofsharingaspacewithacompletestranger.ButBonnie’seasytolivewith.Shecleansupafterherself,andmakesmelaughwithherendlesssupplyofSouthernsass.She’slikethelittlesisterIneverknewIwanted.
Forthepasthoursinceweleftcampus,she’sonlyreinforcedmytheorythatshe’ssomekindofsorceress.Thisgirlpossessespowersameremortalcouldonlydreamof.Themomentwesteppeduptothebarinthisrowdyhole-in-the-wallplacewithpantieshangingfromtheraftersandlicenseplatesonthewall,threeguyspracticallybulldozedtheirwaythroughthecrowdtobuyourdrinks.AlltogetBonnietosmileatthem.Sincethen,I’vewatchedhercharmoneguyaftertheotherwithoutevenliftingapinkie.Shesimplybatshereyelashesatmen,givesthemalittlegiggle,ahairtwirl,andthey’rereadytoharvesttheirownmothersfororgans.
“Younewintown?”Oneofourlatestsuitors,ajock-lookingtypewearingatoo-tightT-shirtandtoomuchbodyspray,shoutsinmyearovertheblaringmusic.Evenashechatsmeup,hiseyesdrifttowardBonnieasshetalksanimatedly.Ican’timagineanyofthemcanhearher,butitdoesn’tseemtomatter.
“Yeah,”Ianswer,myfacegluedtotheglowofmyphonescreenasItextwithPres.He’satafriend’splacetonightforapokergame.
WhileIpaytheleastpossibleattentiontothisdude,whosejobistoentertainthe“friend,”histwobuddieseatoutofBonnie’shandallthewaytothedancefloor.Ioccasionallynodandglanceupfrommyphoneashevaliantlyattemptsconversationthatwebothmustknowisuselessagainsttheband’ssetlistblastingatfullvolume.
Aboutfortyminutesafterthewingmanhascreptaway,anarmcatchesmine.“I’mbored.Let’sditchtheseguys,”Bonniesaysinmyear.
“Yes.”Inodemphatically.“Please.”
Shemimessomeexcusetothetwoguysstillclingingtoherheelslikeducklings,andthenwepickupourdrinksandtakeacircuitousroutetothestairs.Onthesecondfloor,lookingdownatthelivebandonthestage,wefindatablewithalittlemorebreathingroom.It’squieteruphere.Enoughthatwecancarryonaconversationwithoutshoutingorresortingtorudimentarysignlanguage.
“Notdoingitforyou?”Iask,referringtoherlatestvictims.
“Icangetthosemeatheadsadimeadozenathome.Can’tthrowarockwithouthittingacollegefootballplayer.”
Igrinovertherimofmyglass.Thefruitycocktailisn’texactlymyjam,butit’swhatBonnieaskedhersuitorstobuyforus.“Sowhat’syourtype,then?”
“Tattoos.Tall,dark,anddamaged.Themoreemotionallyunavailable,thebetter.”Shebeams.“Ifhe’sgotajuvenilerapsheetandmotorcycle,I’mopenforbusiness.”
Ialmostchokeonmytonguelaughing.Fascinating.Shedoesn’tseemlikethatkindofgirl.“MaybeweoughttogofindabarwithmoreHarleysoutside.I’mnotsurewe’regoingtofindwhatyou’relookingforinhere.”
FromwhatIcantell,it’sslimpickings.MostlyGarnetstudents,whichskewtowardcountryclubtypesorfratbros,andafewbeachrattowniesintanktops.NoneofwhomapproachBonnie’sleather-and-studsdaydreams.
“Oh,Idonemyresearch,”shesaysproudly.“Rumorhasit,AvalonBay’sgotexactlywhatIneed.TheHartleyTwins.”
Iraiseaneyebrow.“Twins,huh?”
“Locals,”shesays,nodding.“ButI’mnotgreedy.One’lldofine.Figuremyoddsareimprovedwithaspare.”
“AndtheseHartleytwinstickallofyourbadboyboxes?”
“Ohyeah.Iheardabouttheirexploitsfromsomegirlsoncampus.”Shelicksherlips.“Iwannabeoneofthoseexploitstonight.”
Humorbubblesinmythroat.Thisgirl.“Youdon’tevenknowtheseguys.Whatifthey’rehideous?”
“Theyaren’t.Theirnameswouldn’tbecomin’outtaeverygirl’smouthiftheywere.”Shesighshappily.“Besides,thatgirldownthehallfromus—Nina?Dina?Whateverhernameis.Sheshowedmeapictureof’emanddon’tyouworry,MissMac,theyarefine.”
Mylaughterspillsover.“Alright.Gotit.I’llkeepmyeyeoutforapairofbadboyclones.”
“Thankyou.Now,whataboutyou?”
“Me?”
“Yes,you.”
“I’mnotinthemarketforabadboy,no.”MyphonelightsupagainwithatextfromPrestontellingmehisnextgameisabouttostart.
AnotherthingIappreciateaboutPresisroutine,predictability.Ipreferthingsthatactwithinexpectedparameters.I’maplanner.Anorganizer.Aboyfriendthat’srunningallovertownatallhourswouldn’tfitinmylife.Thenagain,Idon’tgettheimpressionthatBonnieisinthemarketforalong-terminvestment.Maybesomethingmorelikeamicrotransaction.
“I’mjustsayin’.”Bonniewinks.“Thisisacircleoftrust.I’dneversnitchonaroomieifshewantedtoentertainalittleontheside.”
“Iappreciateit,butI’mgood.PresandIareloyaltoeachother.”Iwouldn’thavedonethewholelong-distancethingifIwasn’tconfidentwecouldbefaithful.Nowthatwe’rebothatGarnet,cheatingwouldbeevenmorepointless.
Shelooksatmealittlecross-eyedthensmilesinawaythat’sabitpatronizing,thoughIknowshedoesn’tmeanit.“Soyou’rereallytherelationshiptype?”
“Yeah.”I’veonlybeenwithPreston,butevenifitweresomeoneelse,monogamyismything.“Idon’tunderstandthepointofcheating.Ifyouwanttobewithotherpeople,besingle.Don’tdragsomeoneelsealongfortheride.”
“Well,cheerstoknowin’whatwewantandgoin’afterit.”Bonnieraisesherglass.Wetoast,thensuckourcocktailsdry.“Comeon,”shesays,“let’sgetouttahere.Igottwinstohunt.”
She’snotjoking.Forthenexttwohours,IfindmyselftrailingbehindBonnieasifI’vegotadick-sniffingbloodhoundonaleash.Shedragsmefromonebartothenextinsearchofherelusivetwins,leavingcountlessmesmerizedvictimsinherwake.Onepoorloserafteranotherthrowinghimselfatherfeet,slayedbyherdimples.I’veneverhadtroubleattractingattentionfromguys,butstandingnexttoBonnieMayBeauchamp,Imightaswellbeabrokenbarstool.GoodthingIhaveaboyfriend,orelseI’ddevelopacomplex.
AsmuchasIwanttohelpBonnieinhercrusadetolocateanddestroyhertowniebadboy,thesidekickroutinegetstediousasthenightwearson.Ifshedoesn’ttireherselfoutsoon,there’sachanceI’llneedtoclubheroverthehead.
“Lastone,”Iwarnaswecrossthethresholdofyetanotherboardwalkbar.Thisone’scalledtheRipTide.“Ifyourtwinsaren’there,you’llhavetosettleforanyoldbadboy.”
“Lastone,”shepromises.Thenshebatshereyelashesand,likeeveryguywe’veencounteredtonight,Ifindmyselfmeltinginherpresence.It’simpossibletostayannoyedwithher.
ShelinksherarmthroughmineandpullsmedeeperintotheRipTide.“C’mon,girl,let’sdothis.Igotagoodfeelingaboutthisone.”CHAPTERFIVE
COOPER
She’shere.
Fatemustbeonboardwiththeplan,becauseI’moutwithsomefriendsonSaturdaynighttoseeabuddy’sbandattheRipTidewhenIspother.She’saloneatahigh-toptable,placeddirectlyinmypathasifbysomehigherpower.
Herfaceisunmistakable.Andholyhell,shewasgood-lookinginphotosbutatotalknockoutinperson.Thekindofgirlwhosticksoutinacrowd.Stunning,withlongdarkhairandpiercingeyesthatshineunderthelightsfromthestage.Evenatadistance,she’sgotaneffortlesscoolabouther,anauraofconfidence.InawhiteT-shirtknottedatherwaistandapairofjeans,shestandsoutfornottryingtoohard.
Allthatwouldbeenoughtocapturemyattentionevenifshedidn’thaveakillerbody.Butshehasthattoo—impossiblylonglegs,afullrack,aroundbottom.She’sthegirlmydaydreamsdaydreamabout.
“Thather?”AlanaleansintofollowmygazetowherePrestonKincaid’sgirlfriendissitting.“She’sbetterlookinginperson.”
Iknow.
“Quicksmokewhilethenextbandsetsup?”suggestsourfriendTate.Herisesfromthetable,draggingahandthroughhismessyblondhair.
“Nah,we’restayinghere,”Alanaanswersforus.
Hequirksabrowatme.“Coop?”
Onceagain,Alanaismymouthpiece.“Cooperiscuttingbackonthecancersticks.”Shewavesahand.“Youguysgoonout.”
Shrugging,Tatewandersoff,tailedbyWyattandWyatt’sgirlfriend,Ren.Themomentthey’regone,Alanaturnshergazeonme.
“Lemmehearit,”sheorders.
“Hearwhat?”
“Yourgame.Pitchsomelines.”Sheflipsherhairandpropsherchininherhands,givingmesarcasticdoeeyes.
“Fuckoff.”Idon’tneedapickupcoach.
“Youneedaplan,”sheinsists.ThingaboutAlana,whenshegetsherclawsintosomething,shetendstotakeover.“Youcan’tjustgooveranddropyourdickinherlap.”
“Yes,thankyou,I’maware.”IdrainthelastofmybeerasIgetupfromthetable.
Alanastopsme,pullsthesleevesofmyblackHenleydownandrunsherhandsthroughmyhair.
“What’sthatfor?”Igrumble.
“Bestfootforward,”shesays.“Justincaseshe’saprude.Tattoosscareofftheprudes.”Leaningback,shetakesafinalappraisingglancebeforeshooingmewithherhand.“You’redone.Goforthandconquer.”
Thisistheproblemwithhavinggirlfriends.
BeforeIapproachmymark’stable,ItakeaquickscanoftheroomtomakesureKincaidisn’tlurkingsomewhere.NotthatIhaveanyqualmsaboutarematch.Gettingintoabarfightisn’tpartoftheplan,though.This’llworkbestifIcanswoopinthereundetecteduntilit’stoolateforhimtointervene.Winheroverbeforeheevenknowstheenemyisinsidethegates.
Satisfiedthatshe’sflyingsans-boyfriendtonight,Iwalkuptohertable.Withherfacegluedtoherphone,shedoesn’tnoticemeuntilItapheronthearm.
“Hey,”Isay,bendingmyheadtowardhersoshecanhearmeoverthemusicfromtheloudspeaker.“Youusingthisstool?”
“No.”Shedoesn’tliftherattentionfromthelitscreen.“Goahead.”WhenIsit,herheadjerksup.“Oh.Figuredyou’djusttakethestooltoanothertable.Butokay.”
“Settleabetforme,”Isay,leaningincloser.Shesmellsgood,likevanillaandcitrus.SogoodIalmostforgetwhyI’mhere.Thatshedoesn’tpullawayorthrowadrinkinmyfaceisagoodstart.
“Uh…whatsortofbet?”There’saflickerofhostilityinhereyesbeforeherexpressionsoftens.Whensherakeshergazeoverme,IknowI’vegotherintrigued.
“WhatifItoldyou,anhourfromnow,you’dbeleavingthisbarwithme.”
“I’dsayIadmireyourhustle,butyou’dbebetteroffaimingthatarrowatanothertarget.”
“Sowehaveawagerthen.”Holdinghergaze,Ioffermyhandtoshakeonit.Ifindthebestwaytotrulyknowsomeoneistopushandseeiftheypushback.Windthemupandletthemgo.
“Ihaveaboyfriend,”shesaysflatly,ignoringmyhand.“You’vealreadylost.”
Imeethereyes.Insolently.“Ididn’taskaboutyourboyfriend.”
Foramomentshe’stakenaback.Ofcoursesheis,becausenoonetalkstoherthatway.Certainlynotherdumbassboyfriend.Chickslikeherareusedtoparentsdotingontheireverydesireandservantswaitingonthemhandandfoot.Andasthenotionofmesettlesintohermind,IseethemomentshedecidesI’mmoreinterestingthanwhateverwasonherphone.
Sheputsittosleepandpushesitaway.
Sofuckingpredictable.Everyrichgirlfromagoodfamilywonderswhatit’sliketobewiththeguyfromthewrongsideofthegildedgates.It’stheclosestthingtoathrillthey’lleverhave.
“Isthisagag?”Shelooksaround.“DidBonnieputyouuptothis?”
“Idon’tknowanyBonnie.I’mCooper.”
“Mackenzie,”shereplieswithafurrowedbrow,stillspinningherwheelswonderingwhatthecatchis.“ButIreallydohaveaboyfriend.”
“Youkeepsayingthat.”
ThistimewhenIleanin,shedoesn’tbackaway.Thegapbetweenusfallstoafewinches,theairbetweenusgrowingthinner.
“Inmostofthecivilizedworld,”shesaysslowly,“thatmatters.”
“AndhereI’mlookingaround,andIdon’tseethisguyyou’resoconcernedabout.”
Herfaceisincredulous,ifabitamused.Sheknowsexactlyhowhotsheisandisusedtomenchasingafterher.YetIsenseherunease.Ithrewheroff-kilter.Whichtellsmeshe’sthinkingaboutit.I’vemetcountlessgirlslikeher,sleptwithafewofthem,andrightnow,thefarfetchedfantasiesandwhat-ifsarespiralingthroughherprettyhead.
“I’mwithmyroommatetonight.”There’sstillfightinhervoice,theresolvetoholdherground,oratleastappeartodoso.Thisisawomanwho’sneverplayedtheeasytarget.“It’sagirls’thing.”
“Yeah,realwildnightyou’rehaving,”Idrawl,gesturingatherglassofwater.“Someone’sgotagoodgirlcomplex,huh?”
“I’mdyingtofindouthowinsultingmeisgoingtowinyouthisbet.”
“Stickaroundandfindout.”
Sheholdsupherwater.“Thisiscalledbeingagoodfriend.I’vealreadymetmyalcoholquotaoftwodrinks.”
“Whateveryousay,princess.”
Shetwirlsthestrawinherglass.“I’mtryingtowatchoutformyroommatetonight.”
“WhatifIthoughtyoulookedlonely?”
Shecocksherhead,eyesnarrowing.Icanseethegearsworkinginhermind,analyzingme.“WhywouldIbelonely?”
“Let’scutthebullshit.”
Shenodswithasmirk.“Yes,let’s.”
“You’reanattractivewomanaloneinacrowdedbarwithyourfacegluedtoyourphonebecausethere’ssomewhereelseyou’dratherbe.Andwhereverthatplaceis,there’ssomeonewho’shavingfunwithoutyou.Yetyou’resittingherewearingyourboredomasabadgeofloyalty,withsomemisguidednotionthatbeingmiserableproveswhatagoodpersonyouare.So,yeah,Ithinkyou’relonely.Ithinkyou’resodesperateforagoodtimeyou’resecretlygladIwalkedoverhere.Inthedeepest,darkestpartofyourbrain,youwantmetogiveyouareasontomisbehave.”
Mackenziedoesn’tanswer.Inthecrackleofenergybuildinginthetightspacebetweenus,Iwatchtheindecisionwarringbehindhereyes.SheconsiderseverythingIjustsaid,stabbingthestrawintoherglassoficewater.
Ifshe’sgoingtotellmetogetlost,thisisit.I’vecalledheroutandanythinglessthanshuttingmedownisanadmissionthatI’matleastalittleright.Butifshedoesn’tshutmedown,thenthepathaheadofherisunmarked.Therearenorules,andthat’sdangerousterritoryforsomeonewhosewholeworldismappedoutforthemfrombirth.Beingrichmeansneverhavingtothinkforyourself.
Ifshechoosestofollowme,itonlygetslesspredictablefromhere.
“Alright,”shesaysfinally.“I’lltakethatbet.”Icantellshe’sstillskepticalofmymotivations,butshe’sintrigued.“Butifyouthinkthisendswithgettingmeinbed,youmightaswellpayupnow.”
“Right.Wouldn’twanttotemptyouwithagoodtime.”
Sherollshereyes,failingtohideasmile.
“Imean,Icouldfeelthebummerenergywaftingoffofyoufromwayoverthere,”Isay,noddingtowardthetablewhereAlanaandourfriendsarefailingtopretendtheyaren’twatchingus.“Honestly,thisisamitigationprotocol.Ifyourattitudedoesn’timprove,we’regonnahavetoaskyoutoleavebeforeyourbummerspreads.”
“Oh,”shesays,puttingonanexpressionofmockseriousness,“ifthisisamedicalemergency,then,byallmeans,please.”
She’sgotbanter,atleast.Iwasafraidshe’dbeanotherstuck-upprisswhocouldn’tstringathoughttogetherthatwasn’taboutclothesornailpolish.IassumedgoingintothisI’dhavetocontendwithatypicalcloneattitudeofbitchyentitlement,butthischickseemsmostlynormal,withnoneofthatpompouspretension.
“So,whatdiddragyououttonight?”Iask.Themoreshecantalkaboutherself,themoreherwallswillcomedown.Giveshertheideashe’sincontrol.
“Myroommateishuntingapairoftwins,”sheinformsme.
Ohreally.“Forsportormeat?”
“Bitofboth.”Hergazetravelstheroom,presumablysearchingthecrowdforthiselusiveroommate.“Shehasathingforsociallyunproductiveboyswhoputtheirpersonalityontheirskin,andshe’sgotitinherheadthattwinsaregoododds.Personally,Ithinkaboutofherpesisn’tworththemorning-afterInstagramselfie,butwhatdoIknow?”
Istruggletokeepastraightface.Thisistooperfect.Ialmostfeelbaddoingthistoher,butthenshedidsuggestIhaveherpes,sonotthatbad.
“Youknowthesetwins?”Ipasteonaninnocenttone.
“No,butifthey’resoinfamoustheirreputationoncampusfilteredallthewaydowntoafreshmaninthefirstweekofschool,theirtalesmustbelongandplentiful.”Herfacescrunchesindisgust.Ifthiswasn’tsoamusing,Imightbeoffended.“Anyguythatgetsaroundthatmuchisboundtofillupapetridishwithallmannerofgenitalinfestations.”
“Obviously,”Isaysolemnly.“Gotanameforthesetwinpatientzeros?”
“TheHartleys.They’relocal.”Thenherfacelightsup.“Youdon’tknowthem,doyou?Imean,Bonniewouldbeexcitedtopickupaclueonherquest,butifthey’refriendsofyoursorsomething…”
Ialmostcan’tstandtheanticipationanymore.
“Nah,forgetthoseguys.”I’mfightingagrin.“Coupledirtbags,thosetwo.”
“Mac!Ineedanotherdrinkandthenwe—Oh.”Ashortblondewalksupandstopsshort,staringstraightthroughmyskull.HerfaceturnsaglowingpinkasherbigeyesdarttoMackenzie.
AfewdauntingsecondsofmentalgymnasticspasswordlesslybetweenthegirlsbeforeMackenziegrabsmywristandyanksonesleeveupmyarmtorevealmytattoos.
“Ohfuckoff,”shesaystome,glaringfire.“No.Nope.Notfair.”Shesitsbackandcrossesherarmsindefiance.“YouknewIwastalkingaboutyouandstillletmegoonlikethat?”
“Ineverpassuponfreeentertainment,”Isay,mygrinspringingfree.
HerroommateslidesontothestoolbesideMackenzie,watchingus.Itsuddenlyoccurstomethattheroommatesituationcouldbetricky.EitherthisgirlderailsmyplansbycallingdibsandscaringoffMackenziebeforeI’veeverhadashot,orshe’smyaceinthehole.Gettheroommateonmysideandcoasttothefinishline.Luckily,Ihaveasparemetotossherway.
“Youdupedme.”Emphatic,Mackenzietellsme,“Anintentionalattemptatdeception.That’snotallowed.Infact,thisentireinteractionisnowmoot.Wedidn’tmeet.Idon’tknowyou.”
“Wow.”Ipushbackfromthetable,smotheringalaugh.“You’vegivenmealottothinkabout.I’mgonnaneedanotherdrinktosoakthatin.Anotherround?”ThistimeIdirectthequestiontotheroommate,whosepermanentlookofawehasnotwaned.
“Yes,please,”shesays.WhenMackenzieappearsshemightobject,theroommateshootsheralook.“Thankyou.”
IheadovertothebarandcatchaglimpseofAlana,whogetsupfromourfriends’tabletofollowme.ShetakesacircuitousroutetopassslowlybyMackenzieandherroommatewhileIorderthreebeers.
“Lookslikeitwentwell,”Alanasayswhenshefinallyslidesinbesideme.Thecurrentband’ssetendsandthere’sabrieflullbeforethecannedmusicispumpedintotheroomasthenextbandsetsup.
“She’scool,”Ianswer,shrugging.“Kindamouthy,butwhenhasthateverstoppedme?”
“Yeah,well,don’tgetattached.”Alanaordersashotforherself.
“Ijustmetthegirl.Relax.”Besides,attachment’sneverbeenmyproblem.GrowingupthewayIdid,Ilearnedalongtimeagothateverythingistemporary.There’snouseinvestingtoomuchofmyself.Easierthatway.Clean.Saveseveryoneallsortsofgrief.
“Iheardthemtalking.”Alanadownshershotandwincesattheburn.“Theblondeonewaslike,He’syoursifyouwanthim,butourgirlwaslike,Nah,goforit.So…”Sheturnsaroundtoleanagainstthebar,lookingoveratthegirls’table.“You’vestillgotalotofworktodothere.”
“Longstory,butImighthavetothrowEvanattheblondeone.”
“Howeverwillhemanage,”Alanasays,rollinghereyesatme.
Theroommate’shot,nodoubt,butshe’snotreallymytype.Anyway,she’sabouthalfmysize,andIhatethrowingmybackoutbendingdowntokissagirl.
ThebartendercomesbackwithourdrinksandIgatherthemup,returningtothegirlsasAlanashoutssomethinglikeGoget’em,tigeratmyback.Iunderestimatedhowobnoxiousturningmysexlifeintoaspectatorsportwouldbe.
Atthetable,Iputthedrinksdownandtakeaseat.WhenMackenziepushesherwatertothesidetoacceptthebeer,Iknowforcertainshe’salongfortheride.Ifshewasgoingtogetspookedandbolt,itwouldhavebeenbeforeIgotback.
“CooperHartley.”Ioffermyhandtotheroommate,who’sstudyingmenotatalldiscreetly.
Sheshakesmyhand,hersmallfingerslingering.“BonnieMayBeauchamp,”shesayswithaheavySouthernaccent.“Don’tsupposeyourbrotherislurkin’around.”
“No,he’sprobablygettingintotroublesomewhere.”Actually,he’shustlingrichkidsoutoftheirtrustfundmoneyatthepooltablesafewdoorsdown.It’spracticallyhissecondjob.“Can’ttakethatkidanywhere.”
“That’stoobad.”Bonniegivesaplayfulpout.
It’sclearthisBonniechickisatinybottleoffire.She’sgotallkindsofmischievoussexualenergyburstingoutofher.
“Wewerehopingyouhadtheskinnyontheafter-party,right,Mac?Somewhere…cozier.”
Mackenzieshootsaconflictedglanceatherroommate.Ibitebackagrin.Nowifsherefuses,she’scockblockingherfriend.Toughspot,Mac.ThisroommateandIarebecomingfastfriends.This’llbeeasierthanIhoped.
“Cozy,huh?”Isay.
Mackenzieglancesbackatme,realizingsheneverstoodachanceatwinningourlittlegame.I’dfeelbadifIwerecapableofgivingashit.Thischick’shot,andnotatotalnightmare,butIhaven’tforgottenwhyI’mhere.She’sstillonlyameanstoanend.
“Iknowaplace.”It’stoosoontotryinvitingthembacktothehouse.That’scomingonstrong,andIknowinstinctivelyit’snottherightstrategyonthisone.Sheneedsthemeasuredapproach.Buildarapport.Becomefriends.IcanbepatientwhenIneedtobe;lethercometome.ThemissionistobreakupherandKincaid.Forthattowork,shehastobeinvested.
“Thatdoesn’tsoundominousatall.”Mackenzie’sgotsomebitetohernow.
“I’lltextmybrother,seeifhe’sinterestedingettingintosometroublewithusinsteadofwhateverhe’supto.Yeah?”
“I’mgame.”BonnielookstoMackenziewithDaddy,canIhaveaponyeyes.
“Idon’tknow.”Torn,sheconsultsherphone.“It’salmostoneinthemorning.Myboyfriend’sprobablyhomewaitingformetocallhim.”
“He’lllive,”Bonnieinsists.Herpleadingtonegrowsmoreurgent.“Please?”
“Comeon,princess.Livealittle.”
Mackenziewrestleswithherbetterjudgment,andthere’sasplitsecondwhenIbegintoquestionmyself.ThatperhapsI’dreadherwrong,andshe’snotaboredrichgirlwhoneedstoletloose.Thatshe’sfullycapableofgettingup,walkingoff,andneverlookingatmetwice.
“Fine,”sherelents.“Anhour,tops.”
Nah,stillgotit.CHAPTERSIX
MACKENZIE
Idon’tquiteknowhowwegothere.I’mwithBonnie,Cooper,andhisidenticaltwinEvan,sittingaroundaglowingbonfireonthesandwherethecrashingwavesandpulsingtidedrownoutthesoundsoftheboardwalk.Thetinysparksandembersflickerandfloatintothewarmoceanair.Lightstwinklefrombehindthesanddunesandreflectoffthewater.
ClearlyI’velostmymind.It’sasthoughsomeoneelsehijackedmybrainwhenIagreedtoletthisstrangerdragusintothedarkness.Now,asBonniecoziesuptoherbadboy,agrowingsenseofuneasebuildsinsideme.It’scomingfromtheCooper-sizedspaceacrosstheflames.
“You’resofullofit,”Bonnieaccuses.She’scross-leggedbesideme,laughingyetskeptical.
“Ishityounot.”Evanputshishandsupinashowofinnocence.“Coop’ssittingwiththisdamngoatinthebackofthesquadcar,andit’sscared,thrashingaround.Kickshimintheforehead,andCoopstartsgushingbloodeverywhere.Sohe’stryingtocalmthegoatdownbuteverything’sallbloodyandslipperybackthere.There’sbloodalloverhimandthegoat,thewindows.AndI’mdrivingthisstolencopcar,thesirensareblaring,lightsareflashingandshit.”
Ilaughathiscrazydescriptionandanimatedhandgestures.EvanseemsmoreplayfulthanCooper,whocomesoffasabitintense.Theirfacesareidentical,butit’seasytotellthemapart.Evan’sdarkhairiscutshorter,hisarmsdevoidofink.
“Andwecanhearthemontheradio,”Coopersays,hiswaytooattractivefaceadanceoflightandshadowfromthefirebetweenus.“They’reall,somedamnfoolkidsstoleagoatandacar.Setupaperimeter.Lockdownthebridge.Sowe’rethinking,crap,wherearewetakingthisthing?”
Ican’tpeelmygazeoffhislips.Hishands.Thosemusculararms.I’mtryingtotracetheoutlinesofhistattoosashegesturesthroughtheair.It’spsychologicaltorture.I’mstrappedtoachair,myeyesheldopen,drivenmadbyimagesofhisdarkeyesandcrookedsmirk.AndalthoughEvanliterallyhasthesameface,forsomereasonI’mnotrespondingtohim.Notevenremotely.JustCooper.
“We’rethirteenyearsoldandsetoffachasethroughtown,”Evancontinues,“allbecauseStephsawthisgoatchainedupinsomeone’syardandhoppedthefencetoliberateitjustastheownercomesoutwithashotgun.AndCoopandIarethinking,awman,she’sabouttogethercrazyassshotoverthisgoat.”
“Wejumpthefenceafterher,andI’msmashingthelockwithahammer—”
“Youhappenedtohaveahammerwithyou?”Evenmyvoicesoundsstrangetome.I’moutofbreathbecausemyheartispumpingsofast,thoughI’vebeensittingthewholetime.Perfectlystill.Caughtinhisspell.
“Yeah.”HelooksatmelikeI’mweirdforasking.“It’sacheaplock.Yousmackitgoodacoupletimesontheside,andthelittlepartsinsidebreakapart.SoEvangrabsthegoatandwe’redodgingbuckshot,becausetheownerisdrunkoffhisassandcan’taimforshit.”
“Butwhere’dthecopcarcomefrom?”Bonnieasks.
“We’rerunningwiththisthingonaleashwhenacopcornersus,right?”Evanbecomesanimated,gesturingwithabottleofbeerthathebroughttothebeachwithhim.“HedrawshisTaserbutthere’sthreeofusandagoat,sohedoesn’tknowwhotoaimat.Heleavesthedooropen,soI’mlike,screwit,hopin.”
“EvanandIdivein,”Coopersays.“Stephrunstodistractthecop.Anyway,sothegoatkicksthehelloutofme,andI’mbacktheregettingwoozy,abouttoblackout,whenEvansays,bro,wegottaditchthiscarandrun.”
“Sowhathappenedtothegoat?”Idemand,nowsincerelyinvestedinthefateofthispooranimal,butacutelyparanoidthateveryonenoticeshowoutofsortsIam.HowhardI’mstaring.
“Evanpullsontothisfireroadthatcutsthroughthestateparkandsomehowwrestlesthatthingoutofthebackseatandtakesitintotheforest.Leavesmepassedoutonthegroundbesidethecarsowhenthecopsgetthereandseemeunconsciousandcoveredinblood,lookingdeadasadoornail,theyallstartfreakingout.Theygetmeinanambulance,andIwakeupinthehospital.Inalltheconfusion,IslipoutofthereandmeetEvanathomelikenothingeverhappened.”
“Theynevercaughtyou?”Bonniehootswithlaughter.
“Hellno,”Evansays.“Gotawayclean.”
“Soyouleftagoatbyitselfinthewoods?”Istareatthem,amusedyethorrified.
“Whatthehellelsewerewesupposedtodowithit?”Coopersputters.
“Notthat!OhmyGod.Thatpoorgoat.I’mgoingtohavenightmaresaboutthethingcryingaloneinthedarkforest.Chaseddownbybobcatsorsomething.”
“See?”Evansmackshisbrother’sarm.“Thisiswhywedon’tletchickstalkusintoplayinghero.They’reneversatisfied.”
Still,Ilaughdespitemyself.Theimageofthosetwotearingthroughtown,barelyabletoseeoverthesteeringwheel,withafrightenedgoatkickingandbuckingaround,istoohilarious.
Forawhilelonger,wetradesillystories.AboutthetimeBonnieandherhighschoolcheerleadingsquadturnedahotelgrandstaircaseintoaSlip’NSlideatacompetitioninFlorida.OrthetimeafriendandImetsomeguyswhencampingwithherfamilyandalmostburneddownthecampgroundwithfireworks.
Andthen,itfinallyarrives.ThemomentBonniehaseagerlyawaitedallnight.
EvangrabstheblankethegotfromhiscarearlierandasksBonnieifshewantstotakeawalk.Thosetwohavebeenmakingeyesateachothersincewecamehere.Beforetheywalkoff,sheglancesbackatmetomakesureI’mcoolbymyself,andIgiveheranod.
BecauseasterrifiedasIamtobeleftalonewithCooper,it’sexactlywhatIwant.
“Well,myworkhereisdone,”Iinformhim,tryingtoactnormal.
Hepokesthefirewithasticktomovethelogsaround.“Don’tworry,she’ssafewithhim.Hetalkslikeadelinquent,butEvan’snotacreeporanything.”
“I’mnotworried.”IgetupandtakeEvan’sspotinthesandbesideCooper.Ishouldn’t,butI’magluttonforpunishment.AndIdon’tknowifit’shimortheintoxicatingscentofburningdriftwood,butIfeeldrunkdespiteonlyhavingonebeer.“Honestly,neitherofyouarewhatIexpected.Inagoodway.”
Uh-oh.Thatsoundedflirty,Irealize.Mycheeksheatup,andIhopehedoesn’ttakethecommentasasignofinterest.
“Yeah,”hesays,shakinghishead.“I’mkindastillwaitingonanapologyforthatherpescrack.”
“Ipleadthefifth.”Ibitebackasmirk,lookingathimfromthecornerofmyeye.
“Sothat’showitis,huh?”Hearchesaneyebrow,challengingmewithmockbravado.
Ishrug.“Don’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.”
“Alright.Isee.Rememberthat,Mac.Whenyouhadthechancetobethebiggerperson.”
“Ohhh,”Itaunt.“Soit’swarnow,huh?Swornenemiestothedeath?”
“Idon’tstartshit,Ifinishit.”Hemakesajokingtoughguyfaceandkickssomesandatmyfeet.
“Yeah,realmature.”
“Nowaboutthatbet,princess.”
Thatdoesmein.Withthatsinglemockingnickname,Iblinkandaterriblesinkingawarenessbecomesundeniable.
Cooper’shot.
Insanelyhot.
Andit’snotjusthisstrong,angularfaceanddeep,darkeyesthatdescendforages.HealsopossessesacertainIdon’tgiveafuckqualitythatgetsrightatthemostsusceptiblepartsofme.Inthelightofthefire,there’ssomethingalmostominousabouthim.Aknifewhenthelightglintsofftheblade.Yethehasamagnetismthat’sundeniable.
Ican’trememberthelasttimeIfeltsuchavisceralattractiontoaguy.Ifever.
Idon’tlikeit.NotonlybecauseIhaveaboyfriend,butbecausemypulseisracingandmycheeksarehot,andIhatefeelinglikeI’mnotincontrolofmyownbody.
“Weneverdidsetthestakes,”hemuses.
“Whatdoyouwant,then?”Fair’sfair.Ifnothingelse,I’mawomanofmyword.
“Youwannamakeout?”
Iplayitcool,butmypulsekicksintoanewgear.“Whatelsedoyouwant?”
“Imean,Ifiguredablowjobwasanonstarter,butifwe’renegotiating.…”
Despitemyself,Icrackasmile.“You’reshameless.”
Somehowhemanagestoreleasethetensionfromthemoment,erasingallawkwardnessuntilI’mnolongerhyperawareofmyself.
“Alright,”hesays,asexygrintiltinghislips.“Youdriveahardbargain.I’llgodownonyoufirst.”
“Yeah,Ithinkwe’reatanimpasseonthisone.”
“Thatright?”Hewatchesmeunderheavy-liddedeyes.It’simpossiblenottofeelhe’sundressingmeinhismind.“Fine.ButI’mkeepingyourmarker.You’regoingtoowemeone.”
AtsomepointIfeelmyphonebuzzinmypocket.BythenCooperandIareknee-deepinanargumentoverthesocioeconomicimplicationsofpastries.Iglanceatmyphonetomakesureitisn’tBonnieaskingforarescue,butit’sjustPrestonsayinghe’shomefromhispokergame.
“Noway,”Cooperargues.“Pastriesarerichpeoplefood.Youneverseesomeonemakingminimumwagepoppingintoabakeryforaboxoffuckingcroissants.Wegotdonuts,coldPop-Tarts,andmaybeabiscuitoutofacanorsomething,butnoneofthatsconeshit.”
“Adonutisabsolutelyapastry.Andadonutshopisakindofbakery.”
“Horseshit.Therearefivebakeriesinthistown,andthreeofthemareonlyopeninthesummer.Whatdoesthattellyou?”
“Thatthepopulationswellsduringthetouristseason,andtheoverflowshopsopentosupportthatdemand.Itsaysnothingaboutthedemographics.”
Hescoffs,tossingastickintothefire.“Nowyou’retalkingnonsense.”
Thoughitsoundslikewe’refighting,thesubtleturnatthecornerofhismouthtellsmeit’sallingoodfun.Arguingispracticallyapastimeinmyhouse,soI’mquiteskilledatit.NotsurewhereCooperlearnedtobickersowell,buthedefinitelykeepsmeonmytoes.Andneitherofustakewelltoadmittingdefeat.
“You’renotthemostannoyingcloneI’veevermet,”hesaysawhilelater.
BonnieandEvanstillaren’tback.Theboardwalkbehindusisnowmostlyquietinthelatehour,andyetI’mnottired.Ifanything,Ifeelmoreenergized.
“Clone?”Iechowithawrylook.That’sanewoneonme.
“Whatwecalltherichfolks.Becauseyou’reallthesame.”Hiseyesglintthoughtfullybeneaththemoonlight.“Butmaybeyou’renotexactlyliketherestofthem.”
“Notsureifthat’saninsultingcomplimentoracomplimentaryinsult.”It’smyturntokickalittlesandathim.
“No,Imean,you’renotwhatIexpected.You’rechill.Real.”Hecontinuestostudyme,alltheplayfulnessandpretenseforgotten.OnhisfaceIseeonlysincerity.TherealCooper.“Notoneofthosestuck-upjackasseswhohastheirheaduptheirassbecausetheylovethesmelloftheirownshitsomuch.”
There’ssomethinginhisvoice,andit’smorethanthesurfaceannoyancewithyuppietouristsandrichjerks.Itsoundslikerealpain.
Igivehimanelbowjabtolightenthemood.“Igetit.I’vegrownupwiththosepeople.You’dthinkitgetstoapointwhereyouhardlynoticeit,butnope.Still,they’renotallbad.”
“Thisboyfriendofyours?What’shisstory?”
“Preston,”Isupply.“He’sfromthearea,actually—hisfamilylivesdownthecoast.HegoestoGarnet,obviously.Businessmajor.”
“Youdon’tsay.”Cooperdonsasarcasticlook.
“He’snotthatbad.Idon’tthinkhe’severevenplayedsquash,”Isayforalaugh,butthejokedoesn’tland.“He’sagoodguy.Notthetypewho’sadicktothewaiterorthatkindofthing.”
Cooperchucklessoftly.“Youdon’tthinkit’stellingthatyouranswerisbasically,he’snicetothehelp?”
Isigh.IsupposeIdon’tknowhowtotalktoaguyIjustmetaboutmyboyfriend.EspeciallywhenCooperisclearlyhostiletoourentireupbringing.
“Youknow,thismightshockyou,butifyougavehimachance,youmightactuallygetalong.We’renotalljackasses,”Ipointout.
“Nah.”Somelightreturnstohisexpression,andItakethatasagoodsign.“I’mprettysureyou’retheoneexceptionI’vemet,andI’velivedintheBaymywholelife.”
“ThenI’mgladIcoulddemonstratesomeredeemingqualitiesofmypeople.”
Hesmiles,shrugging.“We’llsee.”
“Oh,yeah?Thatsoundssuspiciouslylikeaninvitation.Butyouwouldn’tbecaughtdeadmakingfriendswith”—Igaspforeffect—“aclone,nowwouldyou?”
“Notachance.Callitanexperiment.Youcanbemytestsubject.”
“Andwhathypothesisarewetesting?”
“Whetheraclonecanbedeprogrammedintoarealperson.”
Ican’thelpbutlaugh.I’vebeendoingthatalottonight.Coopermighthavethosebroodingbadboylooks,buthe’sfunnierthanIexpected.Ilikehim.
“Soarewereallydoingthis?”Iask.
Histonguedragsoverhisbottomlipinapositivelylewdway.“Goingdownoneachother?Hellyeah.Let’sdoit.”
Morelaughtersputtersout.“Beingfriends!I’maskingifwe’regoingtobefriends!Jeez,Hartley,youarewaytoofocusedonoralsex,anyoneevertellyouthat?”
“Firstly,haveyoulookedinthemirror?Jeez—”Hehalts,lookingoveratme.“What’syourlastname?”
“Cabot,”Isayhelpfully.
“Jeez,Cabot,”hemimics.“HowcanInotthinkaboutoralsexwhenI’msittingnexttothehottestwomanontheplanet?”
Aflushrisesinmycheeks.Damnit.Thatroughhonestyiswildlysexy.
Gulping,Iforcemybodynottorespondtohiscrudenessorthecompliment.Youhaveaboyfriend,Mackenzie.Ispellitoutformybrain.B-O-Y-F-R-I-E-N-D.
IsitbadthatI’vehadtoremindmyselfanalarmingnumberoftimestonight?
“Secondly,”Coopercontinues,“areyousurewe’renotgonnahookup?”
“Positive.”
Herollshiseyesatme.“Fine,thenthirdly—yes,IguessI’llsettleforfriendship.”
“Howkindofyou.”
“Right?”
“OhGod.I’malreadyreconsidering.Ifeellikeyou’regoingtobeahigh-maintenancefriend.”
“Bullshit,”heargues.“I’llbethebestfriendyou’veeverhad.Ialwaysgoaboveandbeyondwhat’sexpectedofme.Imean,I’veliberatedgoatsformyfriends.Canyousaythesame?”
Isnicker.“Goats,plural?Youmeanitwasn’tjusttheone?”
“Nah,itwasonlyonegoat.Butonetime,IdidstealagoldfishformyfriendAlana.”
“Awesome.I’mfriendswithathief.”Ipokehimintheside.“Ineedtohearthegoldfishstory,please.”
Hewinks.“Oh,it’sagoodone.”
Wetalkforsolong,thetwoofusaroundthedwindlingfire,thatIdon’tnoticetheblacknightturntograyearlymorninguntilEvanandBonniecomestrollingtowarduslookingratherpleasedwiththemselves.BythenIrealizeIhaveadozentextsfromPrestonwonderingwhatthehellhappenedtome.Oops.
“Takemynumber,”Coopersaysinaroughvoice.“TextmewhenyougettocampussoIknowyoumadeitbacksafe.”
Despitethewarningalarmsinmyhead,Ipunchhisnumberintomyphone.
Nobigdeal,Iassurethatdisapprovingsideofme.It’lljustbeonetextwhenIgethome,thenI’lldeletethenumber.Becauseasfunasitwastojokeaboutourimpendingfriendship,Iknowit’snotagoodidea.IfI’velearnedonethingfromromcoms,it’sthatyouarenotallowedtobefriendswithsomeoneyou’reattractedto.Theattractionitselfisharmless.We’rehumanbeingsandlifecanlastyears.We’reboundtofeelphysicalattractionforsomeoneotherthanoursignificantother.Butanyonewhoplacesthemselvesdirectlyinthepathoftemptationisonlyaskingfortrouble.
SowhenBonnieandIstumbleoutofanUberandclimbuptoourdorm,I’mfullypreparedtopurgeCooperHartleyfrommyphone.Isendasolitarytext:Homesafe!ThenIclickonhisnumberandhovermyfingeroverthewordDELETE
BeforeIcanpressit,amessagefromhimpopsup.
Cooper:Thatwasfun.Let’sdoitagainsometime?
Ibitemylip,staringattheinvitation.Thememoryofhisdarkeyesgleaminginthefirelight,ofhisbroadshouldersandmusculararms,jumpstartsmytiredbrainandticklesthatspotbetweenmylegs.
Deletehim,astrictvoiceorders.
Iclickonthechatthread.Maybeafriendshipwiththisguyisaterribleidea,butIcan’thelpmyself.Icave.
Me:I’llbringdonuts.CHAPTERSEVEN
MACKENZIE
OnlytwoweeksintothesemesterandI’malreadyoverit.Itwouldn’tbesobadifIcoulddigintosomebusinessandfinancecourses.Marketingandmasscommunicationslaw.Evensomebasicwebcoding.Instead,I’mstuckinalecturehallstaringatanillustrationofsomehairy,nakedpre-humanape-manthat,frankly,varieslittlefromthecurrentiterationsittingthreerowsover.
Freshmangen-edsarebullshit.Evenpsychologyorsociologycouldhavehadsomeapplicationtomywork,butthosecourseswerefull.SoIgotstuckinanthropology,whichsofartodayhasbeentenminutesofswarthyprotohumanslidesandfortyminutesofargumentsoverevolution.Noneofwhichbenefitsmybankaccount.MyparentspushedcollegeonBoyfriendFailsanditssistersite,targetingkeywords,lookingatadimpressions.Instead,I’mtakingnotesbecauseourprofessorisoneofthoseanAisperfection,sonooneisgettinganAinthisclassassholes.AndifI’mforcedtoentertainthisexhaustivewasteoftime,I’mnotgoingtowalkaroundwithaCaverage.
Itisn’tuntilIstepoutsideintotheblazingsunshinethatIrealizeIcan’tfeelmyfingertips.Thelecturehallwasfreezing.Iheadovertothestudentunionforacoffeeandsitonahotconcretebenchunderamagnoliatreetothawout.I’msupposedtomeetPrestoninthirtyminutes,soIstillhavesometimetokill.
Isipmycoffeeandscrollthroughsomebusinessemails,forcingmyselfnottodwellonthefactthatIhaven’theardfromCooperyettoday.
AndIsayyet,becausehe’smessagedmeeverydaysinceSaturdaynight.SoIknowI’llhearfromhimatsomepointtoday,it’sonlyamatterofwhen.Thefirsttimehetexted,I’dhesitatedtoopenthemessage,afraidapictureofhisjunkmightpopuponthescreen.Ormaybehopefulitwould?I’veneverbeenonefordickpics,but—
Butnothing!asharpvoiceshoutsinmyhead.
Right.There’snobut.Idon’twanttoseeCooperHartley’spenis.Period,endofsentence.Imean,whywouldIwanttoseethepenisofthehot,tattooedbadboyIstayedupanentirenighttalkingto?That’sjustludicrous.
Welp,I’mnotcoldanymore.I’mburningupnow.
Ineedadistraction.ASAP.
Whenmymom’snumberlightsupthescreen,Ithinkaboutignoringthecall,becausethat’sdefinitelynotthedistractionI’dhopedfor.Butpastexperiencehastaughtmethatignoringheronlyencourageshertosendincreasinglydemandingtextstoanswerher.ThencallstotheFBIinsistingI’vebeenkidnappedforransom.
“Hi,Mom,”Ianswer,hopingshecan’thearmylackofenthusiasm.
“Mackenzie,sweetheart,hello.”
There’salongpause,duringwhichIcan’ttellifshe’sdistractedorwaitingformetosaysomething.Youcalledme,Mom
“What’sup?”Iasktogettheballrolling.
“Iwantedtocheckin.Youpromisedtocallafteryougotsettled,butwehaven’theardfromyou.”
Ugh.Shealwaysdoesthis.Turnseverythingintoaguilttrip.“Icalledthehouselastweekend,butStaceysaidyouwereout,orbusyorsomething.”
Ispendmoretimeonthephonewithmymother’spersonalassistantthanIdowithanyoneinthefamily.
“Yes,well,Ihavealotonmyplateatthemoment.ThehistoricalsocietyissponsoringanewexhibitattheStateHouse,andwe’realreadyplanningthefallgalafundraiserforthechildren’shospital.Still,persistenceiseverything,Mackenzie.Youknowthat.Youshouldhavecalledagainlaterthatday.”
Ofcourse.Mymotherhasapersonalstaffandstillcan’tmanagetoreturnacalltoheronlychild,butsure,that’smyfault.Ahwell.It’ssomethingI’velearnedtolivewith.AnnabethCabotsimplycan’tbewrongaboutanything.Iinheritedthattrait,atleastwhenitcomestopointlessargumentsaboutdonutsorwhatnot.Those,Imustalwayswin.Butunlikemymom,I’mfullycapableofadmittingwhenI’vemadeamistake.
“Howisschool?”sheinquires.“Doyoulikeyourprofessors?Areyoufindingyourclasseschallenging?”
“School’sgreat.”
Lie.
“Myprofessorsaresoengaging,andthecoursecontentisreallyinterestingsofar.”
Lie.Lie.
“Iloveithere.”
Lie.
Butthere’snothingtogainfromtellingherthetruth.Thathalftheprofessorsseemtoregardteachingfreshmenasanactofspite,andtheotherhalfonlyshowuptohandtheirTAsathumbdriveofPowerPointslides.Thatmytimewouldbebetterspentanywhereelse,butespeciallyonmythrivingbusiness.Shedoesn’twanttohearit.
Thetruthis,myparentshaveneverbeeninterestedinwhatIhavetosayunlessit’ssomethingthey’vescriptedthemselvesandforcedmetoread.Inmyfather’scase,thedaughterscriptistypicallyrecitedduringpubliceventsandaccompaniedbyfake,beamingsmilesaimedathisconstituents.
“Iwantyoutoapplyyourself,Mackenzie.Aladyshouldbeworldlyandwelleducated.”
Forappearancesistheunspokenpart.Notforanypracticalpurposes,butsotheladycancarryonconversationsatcocktailparties.
“Remembertoenjoyyourselftoo.Collegeisaseminaltimeinayoungwoman’slife.Thisiswhereyoumeetthepeoplewhowillformyournetworkforyearstocome.It’simportanttobuildthoserelationshipsnow.”
AsfarasMomisconcerned,I’msupposedtofollowinherfootsteps.I’mtobecomeaglorifiedhousewifewhositsonalltherightcharityboardsandthrowspartiestosupportherhusband’sprofessionalaspirations.I’vestoppedtryingtoarguethepointwithher,butthat’snotthelifeIwant,andeventually,hopefully,I’lljumponanothertrackandit’llbetoolateforthemtostopme.
Fornow,Iplayalong.
“Iknow,Mom.”
“Whataboutyourroommate?What’shername?”
“Bonnie.She’sfromGeorgia.”
“What’sherfamilyname?Whatdotheydo?”
Becausethat’swhatitalwaysboilsdownto.Aretheysomeone?
“Beauchamp.Theyowncardealerships.”
“Oh.”Anotherlong,disappointedpause.“Isupposetheydowellwiththat.”
Meaningthatiftheycanaffordtoputherinthesamedormroomwithme,theymustnotbedirt-poor.
Istifleasigh.“Ihavetogo,Mom.Gotclassinafewminutes,”Ilie.
“Alright.Talksoon,sweetheart.”
IhangupandreleasethebreathIwasholding.Momisalotsometimes.She’sbeenheapingexpectationsandprojectingherselfontomeformyentirelife.Yes,wehaveoursimilarities—ourlooks,ourtendencytowardimpatience,theworkethicshedisplayswithhercharitiesandIapplytomybusinessandstudies.Butforasmuchaswe’resimilar,we’restilltwodifferentpeoplewithtotallydifferentpriorities.It’saconceptshehasn’tgrabbedontoyet,thatshecan’tmoldmeinherimage.
“Hey,gorgeous.”Prestonappearswithasmile,lookingfullyhealedfromhisbasketballinjuryandbearingasmallbouquetofpinksnapdragons,whichIsuspectaremissingfromaflowerbedsomewhereoncampus.
“You’reinagoodmood,”Iteaseashepullsmefromthebenchandtugsmetowardhim.
Prestonkissesme,wrappingmeinhisarms.“Ilikegettingtoseeyoumorenowthatyou’rehere.”
Hislipstraveltomyneck,whereheplantsasoftpeckbeforeplayfullynippingmyearlobe.
Itrynottoraiseabrow,becausenormallyheshunsallpublicdisplays.Mostofthetime,I’mluckytogethimtoholdmyhand.Buthe’sneverbeenanoverlyphysicalboyfriend,andthat’ssomethingI’velearnedtoacceptabouthim.Ifanything,thelackofPDAisaplus,especiallywhenwe’rearoundourfamilies.Irealizedatayoungagethatmaskingmyemotionsandrepressingmyoccasionalwildstreakwerenecessarysurvivaltoolsinourworld.
“Youready?”heasks.
“Leadtheway.”
It’sabeautifulday,ifalittlewarm,asPresguidesmeonatouracrossthecampus.Ourfirststop,ofcourse,isKincaidHall,whichhousesthebusinessschool.Preston’sfamilyisalegacyatGarnet,goingbackgenerations.
Preslaceshisfingersthroughmineandleadsusoutsideagain.Aswestrolldownatree-linedpathtowardtheartschool,Iadmirethepassingscenery.Thecampustrulyisbeautiful.Redbrickbuildings.Agreatclocktoweroverthelibrary.Sprawlinggreenlawnsandgiant,majesticoaktrees.Imightnotbeenthusedaboutcollegelife,butatleasteverythingisprettytolookat.
“Whatdoyouthinkofschoolsofar?”
WithPreston,Icanbehonest,soIsigh.“I’mboredoutofmymind.”
Hechuckles.“Iwasthesamewayasafreshman,remember?Forthefirstcoupleyearsuntilyoucanstartupperlevelcourses,it’sprettytedious.”
“Atleastyouhaveapurpose.”Wewalkpastthetheaterdepartment,wherestudentsareintheparkinglot,paintingwhatlookstobeanold-timeystreetset.“Youneedacertainlevelofeducationtoworkforyourdad’sbank.Thereareexpectationsandrequirements.ButIalreadyhavemyownbusiness.I’mmyownboss,andIdon’tneedtogetadegreetoproveanythingtoanyone.”
Smiling,Pressqueezesmyhand.“That’swhatIloveaboutyou,babe.Youdon’twaitforpermission.Youdidn’twanttowaittogrowuptobecomeatycoon.”
“See?”Isay,beaming.“Yougetit.”
“Butlook,ifyoureallywanttokeepworkingonyourlittletechthingincollege,thenthinkofGarnetasyourincubator.There’sgoingtobelotsofopportunitiesforyoutogrowyourbrandhere.”
Huh.Ihadn’tthoughtaboutitthatway.AlthoughI’mnotinlovewithhisphrasing—mylittletechthing?—Irealizehe’sright.
“Youmakeagoodpointthere,Mr.Kincaid.”Istandonmytiptoesandkisshisclean-shavencheekbeforeamblingforwardagain.
AnotherreasonPresandIarewell-suitedtoeachother:We’rebothbusiness-mindedpeople.Neitherofusisenchantedbyanartist’sidealism,ordistractedbyromanticnotionsofbackpackingacrossEuropeorhikingMachuPicchu.We’reproductsofourupbringing,andourcoldbloodrunsblue.Twoformidable,futureheadsofempires.
There’salottobesaidforcompatibility.
Afterweexploretheartbuildingandthesmallmuseumwherestudentworkisdisplayed,wanderamongthesculpturesinthebotanicalgardens,andfollowthefootpaththroughthegreenhouseandvegetablegarden,Prestonbringsmearoundtohiscar.
“Comeon,there’ssomethingelseIwanttoshowyou.”Heopensthedoorforme,andIslideontothesleek,leatherpassengerseat.HeputsthetopdownonthesilverPorscheconvertiblebeforewedriveoff.
It’sashortridearoundthebackofthecampus,pastthesportscomplexandupahill,beforeweeventuallyreachatall,circularbuildingwithadome.Theastronomydepartment’stelescope.Prestonleadsmetothesideofthebuilding,toadoorthat’sbeenproppedopenwithasmallwoodenblock.
“Arewesupposedtobehere?”Iaskaswecreepinsideanarrowhallwaythatwrapsaroundthecircumferenceofthebuilding.
“Iknowaguy.”ThenPrestonputshisindexfingertohislips.“Butno,notreally.”
Wefollowthehallwaytoametalstaircase.Onthesecondfloor,weenteraroomwithcomputersalongthewallandamassivetelescopeinthecenter,pointedtotheskythroughawideslitintheroof.
“Oh,cool,”Isay,walkingtowardthetelescope.
Prestonstopsme.“That’snotwhatwecametosee.”
Instead,heleadsmetoadoor,thenaladdergoinguptotheroof.Weemergeontoaplatform.Fromhere,wecanseetheentirecampus.Rollinggreenhillsandwhite-toppedbuildings.Practicallythewholetown,allthewaytothebluehorizonofAvalonBay.It’sspectacular.
“Thisisincredible,”Isay,smilingathisthoughtfulnessandingenuity.
“It’snotaVIPtourwithoutabird’s-eyeview.”Prestonstandsbehindmeandwrapshisarmsaroundmywaist.Hekissesthesideofmyheadasweappreciatethelandscapetogether.“I’mreallygladyou’rehere,”hesayssoftly.
“Metoo.”
Admittedly,thingswereslightlystrainedbetweenusthelastcoupleofyears,whilehewasatcollegeandIwasstuckinhighschool.Doingthelong-distancething,evenwhenwecouldseeeachotheronweekends,wasstressful.Ittookalotofthefunoutofourrelationship.Today,though,I’mrememberinghowitwaswhenwefirststarteddating
Still,asPresholdsmeagainsthimandnuzzlesmyneck,athoughtnudgesitswayintothebackofmymind.
Averytraitorousthought.
OfCooper’schiseledjawandfathomlesseyes.Thewaymypulsespedwhenhesatbesidemeandflashedthatarrogantsmile.Idon’tgetpalpationswhenPrestonwalksintoaroom.Myskindoesn’ttinglewhenhetouchesme.Mythighsdon’tclench,andmymouthdoesn’trundry.
Thenagain,thoseresponsescanbeoverrated.Toomanyhormonesrunningrampantcancloudyourjudgment.Imean,lookatthestatistics—allthosepeoplewhoendupinadysfunctionalrelationshipbecausetheybaseitonsex,notcompatibility.PresandIarerightforeachother.Wegetalongwell.We’reonthesametrajectory.Ourparentsalreadyapprove,anditkeepseveryonehappy.IcouldplaythefieldwithadozenCoopersandgetmyheartbrokenbyeveryone.Whydothattomyself?
There’salottobesaidforknowingagoodthingwhenyou’vegotit.
“Thankyou,”ItellPres,turninginhisarmstokisshim.“Todaywasperfect.”
Butlaterthatnight,asI’mhalfwatchingNetflixinmyroomwhiledoingmyEnglishLitreading,aflutterofexcitementracesthroughmewhenCooper’snamepopsuponmyphone.ThenIremindmyselftocalmthefuckdown.
Cooper:Wanttograbdinner?
Me:Ialreadyate.
Cooper:Metoo.
Me:Thenwhy’dyouask?
Cooper:Toseewhatyou’dsay.
Me:Sosneaky.
Cooper:Whatareyoudoing?
Me:Netflixandhomework.
Cooper:Isthatcodeforsomething?
Me:Busted.
Cooper:Ican’tevenimaginewhatrichpeoplepornislike.
Thosewordsonthescreenmakemesqueezemylegstogetherandputterribleideasinmyhead.WhichIpromptlyshoveinaboxlabeleddon’tyoudare.
Me:It’smostlyeatingsconesoffthepagesofTheWallStreetJournal.
Cooper:Youpeoplearefuckedup.
Acackleburstsoutofme,andIslapmyhandovermymouthbeforeBonniehearsmeandcomesrushingintoseewhat’ssofunny.She’sadoll,thatone,butshehasnoconceptofboundaries.
Me:Whatareyoudoing?
Cooper:FlirtingwithsomechickIjustmet.
Iwalkedrightintothatone.
Me:Stillhaveaboyfriend.
Cooper:Fornow.
Me:Goodnight,townie.
Cooper:Night,princess.
Iknowhe’sjustpushingmybuttons.Cooper’sthing,I’mlearning,istryingtogetariseoutofme.Ican’tsayIhateit,exactly.It’srefreshingtohaveafriendwhogetsthatpartofmypersonality.And,okay,it’stechnicallyflirting,whichistechnicallyfrownedupon,butit’sallingoodfun.
NomatterhowmanyhormonalreactionsCooperelicitsinme,I’mnotabouttoleavePresforthefirsttattooedbadboyImeetatcollege.CHAPTEREIGHT
MACKENZIE
Thenextafternoon,Idecidetoexplorethetownonmyownsincemyscheduleisfree.PrestoninspiredmetotryembracingmytimeatGarnetratherthanlookingatitlikeaprisonsentence.Withthatthoughtinmind,Ithrowonaflowerysummerdressandcallacab.
AvalonBayisaparadoxicalcoastaltownfullofruggedfishermenandmultimillionaires.OnonesideofMainStreetarehigh-endboutiquessellinghandmadesoaps.Ontheother,pawnshopsandtattooparlors.Theboardwalkisquietonaweekdayafternoon.MostofthebarsaresparselypopulatedwithsweatylocalsproppeduponstoolswatchingESPNwiththeirpals.
IwalkfartherthanthelasttimeIwashereandreachasectionstilldevastatedbyhurricanedamagefromacoupleyearsago.Severalbuildingsareunderconstruction.Nearby,acrewworksonrestoringarestaurantwherescaffoldingiserectedarounditsexterior.Otherbusinesseshavebeencordonedoffwithcautiontapeandplywood.It’sapparenttheyhaven’tbeentouchedsincethestormtoreofftheirroofsandfloodedtheinteriors.
IstopwhenIcometoaquaintlate-Victorian-stylehotel.It’swhitewithgreentrim,andtheentirebacksideofthebuildinghadbeenguttedbystormsurge.Thehotel’swallswererippedout,itsinnardsexposed.Oldfurnitureandwrinkledcarpetsstillwaitforthegueststhataren’tcoming.TheweatheredsignoutfrontreadsTheBeaconHotelingoldscriptfontandisbrokenintwoplaces.
Iwonderwhathappenedtotheownersthattheyneverrebuilt.Andhowhasnooneswoopedintoclaimthepropertyandrestoreittoitsformerglory?Thisisaprimelocation.
Myphonebuzzesafewtimeswithincomingemails,soIstopatanicecreamshopandbuyavanillacone.ThenIsettleonthebenchoutfront,scrollingthroughmyinboxone-handed.
Thefirstemailisanupdatefromoneofmysitemoderators.Sheinformsmeshehadtoblockseveraluserswho’dbeentrollingeverypostonGirlfriendFails,leavingracistandsexistcomments.Iopentheattachedscreenshots.MyjawdropsatthelevelofvitriolIreadinthosecomments.
Ishootoffaquickemail:Goodcallblockingthem.
ThenextoneisanSOSfromtheguyIhiredtooverseeBoyfriendFails.Apparently,auseristhreateninglegalaction,claimingoneofthepostsonthesiteislibelous.Iclickonthepostinquestion.Thewriterofitwentoutwithaguyshecalls“Ted,”whodidn’tdisclosehehadamicropenisandblindsidedherduringtheirfirstintimateencounter.
Ireturntomyemailtoskimthelettermyadmin,Alan,receivedfromsomeDClawfirmwithascaryletterhead.Iguesstheuser—butterflykisses44—pickedanaliastooclosetoherboyfriend’srealname.TedisactuallyTad,whoissuitablyoutraged,humiliated,anddemandingBoyfriendFailsnotonlytakedownthepost,butpayhimdamagesbecauseoftheemotionaldistressit’scausedhim.
Sincethesiteisaplatformandnotapublisher,wecan’tbesuedforthecontentofourusers,butItellAlantoforwardthelettertomyownlawyerjustincase.ThenIshutoffmyphoneandslurpdowntherestofmymeltingicecream.JustanotherdayinthelifeofMackenzieCabot,CEO.
IfI’mbeinghonestwithmyself,though,latelyI’vebeenitchingfor…somethingmore.Ilovemyapps,butnowadaysthere’snothingformetodobutsayyesorno.Signhere,initialthere.Readthisemail,approvethisad.Therealexcitementcameatthebeginning,whenIwassittingwithmyfriendsandbrainstormingfeaturesfortheapps.Meetingwiththedeveloperandprogrammerandbringingmyideastolife.Creatingthemarketingcampaigntoattractusers.Thelaunch.
Itwaschallengingandexciting.ItwasthemostfunI’deverhad.That’sthepartItrulyenjoyed,Irealizenow.Thecreation,notthemaintenance.NotthatIhatethesitesandwanttosellthem.Idon’t.They’restillmine.Partofmybuddingempire.Butmaybeit’stimetobrainstormsomenewbusinessideas.
Asthesundipslowinthesky,Iwalkontothebeachandsitonthesand,listeningtothewavesandwatchingtheseagullsglideagainstthewind.Behindme,aconstructioncrewiswindingdownfortheday.Thenoiseofdrillsandsawshasceased.
Mostlyzonedout,Idon’tnoticesomeoneapproachingmeuntilheplopsdownbesideme.
“What’sup,princess?”
Ijoltinsurprise,staringatCooper,who’sintheprocessoftakingoffhisshirtandworkgloves.
He’saspotentasthenightatthebonfire,andI’mpinnedbythesightofhim.Hishairandjeansarecoveredinsawdustanddirt.Hismuscularchestandabsareshinywithsweat.ThisisthefirsttimeI’veseensomuchofhisink,whichrunsupbotharmsandstretchestowardhischest.Ilickmylipstheninwardlywinceatmyself.AtthepersonIbecomewhenhe’saround.Lustful.Irrational.Itakethosethoughtsandtampthemwaydowninaboxlabeledstaythehellout
“Areyoustalkingmenow?”Idemand
“Youstrollbymyjobsitein”—hegestures,lookingmeupanddown—“someridiculousruffledressthingandallthisleg,like,‘Oh,don’tmindme,boys,Ihateattention.’”
“ThatissoexactlyhowIsound,”Ireply,rollingmyeyes.“Andwhat’swrongwithmydress?”Ismoothmyhandsoverthehemofthefloralprintsundress.
“It’sgotflowersonit.You’renotaflowerperson,Mac.”
“Don’tcallmeMac.”
“Whynot?”
“Becauseit’sanicknamereservedforfriends.”
“Wearefriends.Bestfriends.”Heflashesacrookedsmile.“Iseeyoudidn’tdenythenotbeingaflowerpersonpart.”
He’sright.I’mnotusuallyintogirlyprintsandrufflysundresses.Mystylerunstowardwhiteteesandwornjeans,oratankandcutoffshortswhenit’shotout.Buteverynowandthen,Ilikefeelingcute.Sueme.Anyway,he’snotallowedtobesopresumptuousaboutmytasteinclothing,soIarguejustbecause.
“Ihappentoloveflowers.Especiallyonclothes.Theflashier,thebetter.”
CooperrollshiseyesasifheknowsI’mlyingthroughmyteeth.“Youknow,youdon’thavetoworkthishard.”Hecrosseshisarms,pullinghiskneesclosetohischest.“I’mprettyeasy.”
“I’msorry,what?Who’sworkingtoohard?You’vebeenblowingupmyphonetalkingaboutsconeporn.”
“You’rekinky,”hesays,shrugging.“Igetit.It’snotmything,butwhatevergetsyouoff.”
Ha.Ifheonlyknew.PrestonandIhaveaperfectlyfinesexlife,butI’mnotevensurewehaveenoughspicetobevanilla.Inthebeginning,Ithoughtmaybesexwassupposedtobethatway:functional,quick,atadboring.IwassixteenwhenIlostmyvirginitytoPres,andmorethanalittlena?veaboutthatstuff.ItwasonlywhenIspoketogirlfriendsaboutmylacklusterencountersthatIrealizedsexissupposedtobe—imaginethis—fun
WhenI’dveryawkwardlybroachedthesubjectwithPres,he’dconfessedthathehadn’twantedtoscaremeoffbybeing“toopassionate.”Itoldhimtofeelfreetostepuphisgame,andourbedroomactivitiesdidgetmorefunafterthat.ButifI’mbeingcompletelyhonest,it’sbeenfouryearsnowandthatpassionhe’dmentionedstillhasn’tmadeanappearance.
“Ishuddertothinkwhat’srattlingaroundinyourspankbank,”Isay.
“Ifyou’retryingtogetmeinbed,youcanjustask.”Coopernudgesmyarmwithhiselbow.Hehasthisunflappableconfidenceabouthim.Arrogantyetcharming.Completelyself-assuredbutnotoverbearing.It’salmostashamehe’swastinghisnaturaltalentsonconstruction.He’dmakeahellofaCEOifhehadamindforbusiness.
“Thishalf-assedreversepsychologyroutineisn’tgoingtoworkonme,”Iinformhim.BecauseIdidn’tmakemyfirstmillionbybeingeasilymanipulated.“I’mnotgoingtobegoadedintoaccidentallywindingupinbedwithsometowniestrangerbecausehedaredmeto.”
Still,hisplayfulsmirkandroguisheyesarenotlostonme.I’mnotimmunetobroadshouldersandrock-hardabs.Moreover,he’sabitofaconundrum.EverythingIlearnabouthimmakesmewonderifwhatheportrays—thetattoos,theattitude—isallclevercamouflage.Hidingwhat,though?Mybrainlovespuzzles.
“Iwouldn’tbecaughtdeadsleepingaroundwithsomeGarnetclone.Idohaveanimagetoprotect.”
“Right,ofcourse.Wouldn’twantanyoneconfusingyouforamanoftaste.”
Hebitesbackasmile,andinthatfleetinglook,Iseeallsortsofbadintentions.Iseeblurrynightsandwildregrets.Heavybreathing.It’senoughtomakemypulsespikeandmytoesgonumb.
Thisguyisdangerous.
“Coop!”someonecallsfromthejobsite.“Youcomingtothebarorwhat?”
Heglancesoverhisshoulder.“Goonwithoutme.”
Knowinglaughterticklesourbacks.I’mgladCooper’scoworkerscan’tseemyfacebecauseI’mfairlycertainI’mblushing.
“Why’dyouhavetodothat?”Igrumble.
“Dowhat?TellthemI’mnotgoingtothebar?”
“Yeah.Nowthey’regoingtothinkyoustayedbehindtobangmeonthebeachorsomething.”
Hegivesadeepchuckle.“Iguaranteetheyweren’tthinkingthat.ButnowIam.Wouldyouliketobanghere,orshouldwegounderthepier?”
“Gotothebarwithyourlittlefriends,Coop.You’llhaveabettershotofgettinglaidtherethanhere.”
“Nah.I’mgoodwhereIam.”Heliftsonehandandrakesitthroughhisdarkhair,andIcan’thelpbutstareathisflexingbiceps.
“Soyouguysarefixingupthatrestaurant?”Iforcemyselftostopgawkingathisverysexymuscles.“Itlookslikeahugejob.”
“Itis.Andoncewe’redonethisone,wehaveabout,oh,halfadozenmorebuildingstorenovate.”Hewavesthatsculptedarmtowardtheboardwalk,highlightingthedestructionleftbythehurricane.
“Doyoulikeworkinginconstruction?”
Henodsslowly.“Ido,yeah.EvanandIworkforouruncle’scompany,sowedon’thavetodealwithsomejackassbosswhotriestoripusoffordoesshoddyworktocutcosts.Leviisagoodman,fair.AndI’vealwaysbeengoodwithmyhands.”
Igulp.There’snoovertinnuendoinhistone,butI’llbedamnedifmygazedoesn’tshifttohishands.They’restrong,big,withlongfingersandcallusedpalms.Nodirtunderhisnails,evenafteradayofmanuallabor.
“Whataboutyou,princess?”Hetipshishead,curious.
“Whataboutme?”
“ThisisthesecondtimeI’vewalkeduptoyouandseenthatlookonyourface.”
“Whatlook?”Apparently,Ijustrepeateverythinghesaysnow.Buttheintensityinhiseyeshastriggeredarushofanxiety.
“Thelookthatsaysyouwantmore.”
“Iwantmore…AndwhatmoredoIwant?”
Hecontinuestostudyme.“Idon’tknow.Justmore.It’slike…amixtureofboredom,dissatisfaction,frustration,andyearning.”
“That’salotofshitpackedintoonelook,”Ijoke,butmyheartisbeatingfasternow,becausehe’sprettymuchsummeditup.That’sbeenmystateofmindsinceIgottocollege.No,evenlonger—dareIsay,myentirelife.
“AmIwrong?”heasksroughly.
Ourgazeslock.TheurgetoconfideinhimissostrongIhavetobitethetipofmytonguetostopmyself.
Suddenly,amidstthecrashingwavesandscreechingseagulls,Ihearafaintyelping.
“Didyouhearthat?”Ilookaroundforthesourceofthepained,desperatenoise.
Cooperchuckles.“Stoptryingtodistractme.”
“I’mnot.Seriously,don’tyouhearit?”
“Hearwhat?Idon’t—”
“Shhh!”Iorder.
Ilisten,strainingtodiscernanotherclue.It’sgettingdarker,withthelightsfromtheboardwalkovertakingthedwindlingdusk.Anotheryelpringsout,thisonelouder.
Ijumptomyfeet.
“It’snothing,”Coopersays,butIignorehimandfollowthesoundtowardthepier.Hejogsafterme,hisvoicefrazzledasheassuresmeI’mimaginingthings.
“I’mnotimaginingit,”Iinsist.
AndthenIseeit,thesourceoftheyelps.Beyondthepier,onthejetty,Imakeoutashapestrandedontherocksasthetidecomesin.
Heartpounding,IwhirlaroundtofaceCooper.“It’sadog!”CHAPTERNINE
COOPER
BeforeIcanblink,Mackenzietearsherdressoff.
Asin,thischickisactuallygettingnaked.
No,notnaked,Irealizewhenshedoesn’tremoveherbraandunderwear.Mydisappointmentoverthestripshowendingprematurelyisdimmedbythefactthatshelooksprettygoddamngoodinabraandunderwear.
Butassherunsintotherisingtideandisquicklyswalloweduptoherneck,therationalpartofmybrainkicksin.
“Mac!”Ishoutafterher.“Getbackhere,damnit!”
She’salreadyswimmingaway.
Awesome.She’sgonnadrowntryingtogetthatmangystraybacktoshore.
Grumblingcursesundermybreath,IstripoutofmyjeansandshoesandchaseafterMackenzie,whohasreachedtherocksandisnowclimbinguptothedog.Iswimhardagainstthecurrent,asthewavestrytothrowmeagainstthepier’spylonsorslammeintotherocks.Finally,Igrabontooneofthebouldersandhaulmyselfoutofthewater.
“You’recrazy,youknowthat?”Igrowl.
TheshiveringdogsitsanxiouslybyMac,who’sattemptingtocomfortit.“Wehavetohelpher,”shetellsme.
Shit.Thisfilthy,patheticthingisjustapuppy,butthere’snowayMackenzieisswimmingwithitbacktoshore.Ihadahardtimemyselffightingoffthecurrent,andIprobablyweightwiceasmuchasMac.
“Givehertome,”Isaywithasigh.WhenIreachforthedog,shehidesbehindMacandalmostfallsinthewatertryingtobackawayfromme.“Comeon,damnit.It’smeornothing.”
“It’sokay,littleone,he’snotasscaryashelooks,”Maccoostothemutt.MeanwhileIstandthereglaringatthemboth.
Thedogcontinuestohesitate,sofinallyMacpicksherupanddepositstheunhappywetbundleintomywaitinghands.Almostinstantly,thefrightenedanimalisclawingandkickingtogetaway.Thisisgoingtobeagoddamnnightmare.
Mackenziepetsthedog’ssoakedfurinafutileattempttocalmher.“Yousureaboutthis?”sheasksme.“Icantry—”
Nochance.ThewaveswouldknockthedogrightoutofhergripandthedamnthingwoulddrownwhileIpulledMactoshore.Nothappening.
“Go,”Iorder.“I’mrightbehindyou.”
Withanod,shedivesandmakesfortheshore.
Standingontherocks,Ihavealittlepeptalkwiththepup.“I’mtryingtohelpyou,okay?Donotbitemyfaceoff.Let’sgetalongforthenextfewminutes.Deal?”
Theanimalwhinesandwhimpers,whichIsupposeisthebestI’mgetting.
AsgentlyasIcan,IclimbdownintothewaterandholdthedoglikeafootballabovethewavesasIswimwithonearm.Thewholetime,thedamnthingisfreakingoutthinkingI’mtryingtokillherorsomething.Shebarksandscratches.Triesafewtimestowrigglefree.Witheverymoveshemakes,alittlemorefleshisgougedfrommybody.Assoonaswereachthesand,IletthedoggoanditrunsstraightforMac,allbutdivingintoherarms.You’rewelcome,traitor.
“Youokay?”Maccallsout.
“Yeah,fine.”
Bothofusarebreathingheavyafterfightingthewaves.It’sfullydarknow,theonlylightcomingfromtheboardwalk.Mackenzieisn’tmuchmorethanahazyshapeinfrontofme.
Mytempergetsthebestofme,spillingoverasIstalkuptoher.“Whatthehellwasthat?”
Sheplantsonehandonherbarehip.Herotherhandprotectivelyholdsthedog.“Seriously?”sheexclaims.“You’remadthatIwantedtosaveahelplessanimal?Shecouldhavedied!”
“Youcouldhavedied!Youfeelthatcurrent,sweetheart?Thatshitcould’vesuckedyourightouttosea.Atleastonceayearsomeonedrownsdownherebecausethey’rearecklessdumbass.”
“I’mnotyoursweetheart,”shegrumbles.“Anddidyoureallyjustcallmeadumbass?”
“Actlikeadumbass,getcalledadumbass.”Iangrilyshakewateroutofmyhair.Doesn’tescapemethatthedogiscurrentlydoingthesame.We’rebothferalanimals,Isuppose.
Mackenzietightensherholdonhernewpet.“Iwillnotapologizeforhavingaheart.Ican’tbelieveyouwerepreparedtoletthispoorpuppydie.OhmyGod.I’mfriendswithapuppykiller.”
Myjawfallsopen.
Christ,thischickisturningintoahandful.I’veneverworkedthishardtowinoveragirl.Andyet,despitebeingmauledhalftodeathforher—andbeingaccusedofattempteddogmurder—myangerdissolvesintoawaveoflaughter.Idoubleover,drippingsea-waterontothesandasIlaughmyassoff.
“Whyareyoulaughing?”shedemands
“Youcalledmeapuppykiller,”Imanagetocroakbetweenlaughs.“You’reinsane.”
Afterasecond,shebreaksoutingiggles.Thedog’sgazeshiftsuncertainlybetweenusaswestandtherelaughinglikeapairofidiots,soakingwetandhalfnaked.
“Fine,”sherelentswhenhergigglingfitfinallysubsides.“Imayhavebeenoutofline.Iknowyouwerejustworriedformysafety.Andthankyouforswimmingouttheretohelp.Iappreciateit.”
“You’rewelcome.”Ihikeupthewaistbandofmyjeans.Mywetboxersareplasteredtomycrotch,makingithardtozipupthejeans.“Comeon,let’sgetourstuffandgobacktomyplace.Ineedtogetchanged.YoucandryoffthereandIcangiveyouaridehome.”
Shedoesn’tsayanything,staringatme.
“Yes,”Isigh,“bringthedog.”
Thehouseisdarkwhenwearrive.NeitherEvan’smotorcyclenorJeepareinthedrive,andthefrontdoor’slockedwhenMacandIstepontothewraparoundporch.Thankfully,theplaceisn’tamessinside.Withourfriendsfrequentlyusingourhouseasapartypadandwaystationbetweenbars,ittendstogettossedaroundalot.EvanandI,forourlackofothersocialgraces,trytokeepourhomeclean,though.We’renotcompleteanimals.
“Youcanusemyshower,”ItellMac,pointingtowardmygroundfloorbedroomafterIturnonlightsandgetmyselfabeerfromthefridge.Ideserveadrinkaftermyheroicdog-savingefforts.“I’llfindsomeclothesyoucanborrow.”
“Thanks.”Shecarriesthedogwithher,allcuddledandsleepyinherarms.Itoldherinthetruckthatifshewantstoleaveithere,I’lltakeittotheshelterinthemorning.ThoughI’mstartingtowonderifI’llbeabletopryitawayfromher.
WhenMac’sinmyensuitebathroom,IdigoutacleanT-shirtandapairofjeansHeidilefthereagesago.Ormaybethey’reSteph’s.Thegirlsarealwaysleavingtheirstufflyingaroundafterapartyoradayatthebeach,andI’vestoppedtryingtoreturnthem.
Ileavetheclothesinaneatpileonthebed,thenstripoutofmywetclothesandthrowonaT-shirtandapairofsweatpants.Thesteamrollingoutfromunderthebathroomdoorisunbelievablytempting.IwonderhowMacwouldreactifIsteppedintotheshowerstall,easedupbehindher,andreachedbothhandsaroundtocuphertits.
Agroanlodgesinmythroat.She’dprobablysawmyballsoffwithherfingernails,butitmightbeworthit,justtogettotouchher.
“Hello,hello,”mybrothercallsfromthefrontdoor.
“Inhere,”IanswerasIheadbacktothekitchen.
Evandropshiskeysonthesplinteredwoodisland.Hegrabsabeerandstandsagainstthefridge.“What’sthatsmell?”
“MackenzieandIrescuedastraypuppyfromthejetty.”Poorthingdidkindofstink.GuessIdotoonow.Awesome
“She’shere?”Awickedgrinspreadsacrosshisfaceashelooksaround.
“Shower.”
“Well,thatwaseasy.I’malmostdisappointedIdidn’tgetmoretimetoenjoyit.”
“Notwhatyou’rethinking,”Igruntout.“Thedogwasstuckoutontherocksandwehadtogetinthewatertosaveit.ToldMackenzieshecouldcomeheretocleanup,andthenI’dtakeherhome.”
“Takeherhome?Dude.Thisisyourchance.Closethedeal.”Heshakeshisheadimpatiently.“Youhelpedherrescueapuppy,forchrissake.Sheisprimed.”
“Don’tbeadick.”Somethingaboutthewayhesaysthatstrikesanervewithme.Thisschemeisn’texactlyethical,butwedon’thavetobesleazyaboutit.
“What?”Evancan’tpretendtohidehisgleeathowwellthisplanisworking.“I’mjustsaying.”
“Well…”Itakeaswigofmybeer.“Keepittoyourself.”
“Hey,”comesMac’shesitantvoice.
Shewalksin,andthesightofher—inmyshirt,darkwethaircombedback—bringsallsortsofsinfulthoughtstomyhead.Shedidn’tputonthejeans,soherlegsarebareandtannedandendlesslylong.
Fuck.
Iwantthemwrappedaroundmywaist.
“Evan,”shegreetsmybrother,noddingathimasifsheknows,somehow,heisuptonogood.Unsurprisingly,she’sstillcarryingthesleepingpuppy.
“Welp.”Evangivesherapartingsmileashegrabshisbeerandpushesofffromthefridge.“I’mbeat.Youkidshavefun.”
Mybrotherhasnoappreciationforsubtlety.
“WasitsomethingIsaid?”sheasksdryly.
“Nah.Hethinkswe’regonnahookup.”WhenIliftmyarmtorunahandthroughmydamphair,hereyesgrowwidewithalarm.Mybrowfurrows.“What?”
“Cooper.You’rehurt.”
Ilookdown,almostforgettingthatherpreciouslittlepupdamnnearfilletedmealivenotanhourago.Bothmyarmsarecoveredinredscratches,andthere’saparticularlynasty-lookingcutonmycollarbone.
“Eh.I’mfine,”Iassureher.I’mnostrangertocutsandscrapes,andtheseonesaredefinitelynottheworstI’veexperienced.
“No,you’renot.Weneedtocleanthose.”
Withthat,shemarchesmetothebathroomand,despitemyprotestations,forcesmyassdownontheclosedlidofthetoilet.Thepuppyispromptlydepositedinmyclaw-footbathtub,whereshecurlsupandsleepswhileMackenzieriflesthroughmycabinetsforthefirstaidkit.
“Icandothismyself,”Itellherasshesetsoutabottleofalcoholandcottonswabs.
“Areyougoingtobedifficult?”Sheeyesmewitharaisedbrow.Theearnestconvictiononherfaceiscute,inastubbornshutupandtakeyourmedicinesortofway.
“Fine.”
“Good.Nowtakeoffyourshirt.”
Agrintugsonmylips.“Thiswasyourplanallalong?Togetmenaked?”
“Yes,Cooper.Ibrokeintoananimalshelter,stoleapuppy,placeditinaperiloussituation,swamouttorescueitmyself—soastonotraiseyoursuspicionsthatitwasI,infact,whotrappedthedogonthejetty—thentelepathicallyorderedthedogtoscratchyouup.AllsoIcouldseeyourperfectpecs.”Shefinisheswithasnort.
“Extremeactions,”Iagree.“ButIgetit.Mypecsareperfect.They’retranscendent.”
“So’syourego.”
Imakeaslow,deliberateshowofremovingmyshirt.Despitehermocking,mybarechestelicitsaresponse.Herbreathhitches,andthensheavertshergaze,pretendingtofocusonopeningtherubbingalcohol.
Ihideasmileandsitbackasshebeginstocleanthewoundsonmyarm.
“Isitjustthetwoofyouhere?”sheaskscuriously.
“Yeah.EvanandIgrewupinthishouse.Mygreat-grandparentsbuiltitaftertheygotmarried.Grandparentslivedhereafterthemandsoon.”
“It’sbeautiful.”
Itwas.Nowit’sfallingapart.Roofneedsreplacing.Foundationiscrackingfrombeacherosion.Thesidinghasseenonetoomanystorms,andthefloorsarewornandwarped.NothingIcouldn’tfixifonlyIhadthetimeandmoney,butisn’tthatalwaysthestory?Wholedamntownfullofifonlys.Andjustlikethat,IrememberwhyI’msittingherelettingsomeclone’sgirlfriendrunherhandsallovermybarechest.
“There,”shesays,touchingmyarm.“Allbetter.”
“Thanks.”Myvoicesoundsabitgravelly.
“Noproblem.”Herssoundsslightlyhoarse.
Ifindmyselfmomentarilycaughtinherbrightgreeneyes.Tauntedbytheflashesofheralmost-nakedbodyasthehemofmyshirtrisesonherthighs.Herwarmpalmagainstmyskin.Thethrumminginherneckthattellsmeshe’snotindifferenttomeeither.
Icoulddoit.Takeherbythehips,coaxherintostraddlingme.Shovemyhandthroughherhairandpullhermouthtomineinablisteringkiss.I’mnotsupposedtosleepwithherunlesssheinitiates,butifthechemistrysizzlingbetweenusisanyindication,Isuspectshewon’tstopwithakiss.It’llbeakissthatleadstothebedthatleadstogettingballsdeepinsideher.She’lldumpKincaidfasterthanyoucansaygameover.Iwin.Missionaccomplished.
Butwhere’sthefuninthat?
“Now,”Isay,“aboutyourfriend.”
Mackenzieblinks,asifsnappingoutofthesameluststuporI’dfalleninto.
Wedrawawarmbubblebathforthepuppyandputherin.She’sacompletelydifferentanimalallofasudden.Thedrownedratbecomesasmallgoldenretriever,splashingaroundandplayingwithabottleofshampoothatfallsintothetub.Poorthingisallskinandbones,lostorabandonedbyitsmother,andshedidn’thaveacollarwhenwefoundher.Theshelterwillhavetofigureoutifshe’schippedornot.
Afterwescrubthedogcleananddryheroff,Isetoutabowlofwaterinthekitchenandfeedhersomecutupturkeyfranks.Notideal,butit’sthebestwehaveunderthecircumstances.Whilethepupeats,Ileavethedooropenandstepouttothebackdeck.Thetemperature’scooledoff,andtheoceanbreezeisblowinginoffthewater.Outonthehorizon,atinyblipofaboat’sbowlightsflickersasittravels.
“Youknow…”Maccomesbesideme.
I’macutelyawareofher,everynerveattunedinherdirection.ThischickbarelyglancesatmeandI’mhalfhard.It’sveryannoying.
“Ishouldn’tbehere,”shefinishes.
“Andwhy’sthat?”
“Ithinkyouknowwhy.”Hervoiceissoft,measured.She’stestingmeasmuchasherself.
“Youdon’tseemlikethekindofgirlwhodoesanythingshedoesn’twantto.”Iturntomeethereyes.Inmylimitedexperience,Mackenzieisstubborn.Notthetypetogetpushedaround.I’mundernoillusionthatshe’sherebecauseI’msodamnclever.
“You’dbesurprised,”shesaysruefully.
“Tellme.”
Sheappraisesme.Doubtful.Questioninghowsinceremyinterestis.
Iraiseabrow.“We’refriends,aren’twe?”
“I’dliketothinkso,”shesays,wary.
“Thentalktome.Letmegettoknowyou.”
Shecontinuestostudyme.Christ.Whenshestaresintomelikethis,Ifeelherpickingmeapart,workingthingsout.I’veneverfeltsoexposedinfrontofanotherpersonbefore.Forsomereason,itdoesn’tbothermeasmuchasitprobablyshould.
“Ithoughtfreedomwasbeingself-sufficient,”shefinallyconfesses.“I’mfindingoutthatisn’texactlytrue.Iknowthisprobablysoundsstupidcomingfromme,butIfeeltrapped.Byexpectationsandpromises.Tryingtomakeeveryoneelsehappy.IwishIcouldbeselfishforonce.DowhatIwant,whenIwant,howIwant.”
“Sowhydon’tyou?”
“It’snotthateasy.”
“Sureitis.”Richpeoplearealwaysgoingonabouthowmoneyissuchaburden.That’sonlybecausetheydon’tknowhowtouseit.Theygetsocaughtupintheirbullshit,theyforgettheydon’tactuallyneedtheirdumbfriendsandstupidcountryclubs.“Forget’em.Someone’smakingyoumiserable?Somethingisholdingyouback?Forget’emandmoveon.”
Herteethdigintoherbottomlip.“Ican’t.”
“Thenyoudon’twantitbadenough.”
“That’snotfair.”
“Ofcoursenot.What’severbeenfair?Peoplespendtheirwholelivescomplainingaboutthingsthey’reunwillingtochange.Atacertainpoint,eitherpluckupthecourageorshutup.”
Laughtersputtersoutofher.“Areyoutellingmetoshutup?”
“No,I’mtellingyouthereareplentyofwaysthatlifeandcircumstancesbeyondourcontrolconspiretokeepusdown.Theleastwecandoisgetoutofourownway.”
“Whataboutyou?”Sheturnsonme,pointingthequestionbackinmyface.“Whatdoyouwantrightnowthatyoucan’thave?”
“Tokissyou.”
Shenarrowshereyes.
Ishouldregretsayingthat,butIdon’t.Imean,what’sstoppingmefromkissingher,fromtellingherIwantto?Gottapullthetriggeronthisthingatsomepoint,right?I’veclearlygotheronthehook.IfIdon’tcommittothisplannow,whyamIwastingmytime?
SoIwatchher,tryingtodiscernherreactionthroughthestone-coldfa?adeofindifference.Thischickisimplacable.Butforasplitsecond,Iglimpsetheflickerofheatinhergazeassheconsidersit.Gamingitout.Oneactionbegettinganother,acascadeeffectofconsequences.
Shelicksherlips.
Ileancloser.Justalittle.Temptingmyself.Theneedtotouchherisalmostunbearable.
“ButthenI’dscrewupaperfectlygoodfriendship,”Isay,becauseI’velostallcontrolofmygoddamnmouth.“SoIbehavemyself.It’sstillachoice.”
WhatthehellamIdoing?Idon’tknowwhatspookedme,butsuddenlyI’mgivingheranoutwhenI’msupposedtobereelingherin
Macturnsbacktowardthewater,restingherarmsontherailing.“Iadmireyourhonesty.”
FrustrationrisesinsidemeasIlookatherprofilefromthecornerofmyeye.Thiswomanisgorgeous,she’swearingmyshirtandnothingelse,andinsteadofpullingherintomyarmsandkissinghersenseless,Ijustfriend-zonedmyself.
Forthefirsttimesincewehatchedthisplan,I’mstartingtowonderifI’minovermyhead.CHAPTERTEN
MACKENZIE
IwakeupinthemorningtoatextfromCooper.OnlyIguessEvanmusthavetakenthephoto,becauseitshowsCooperasleepinbedwiththepuppysnuggledonhischest,herfaceburiedunderhischin.It’sfuckingadorable.Lastnight,Ithoughtthosetwoweredoomed,butitseemstheyworkedouttheirdifferences.
IhopeheandEvandecidetokeepher.Iknowtherightthingtodoistotakethedogtotheshelter—Icertainlycan’tkeepher—butmyheartisbreakingalittleatthethoughtofneverseeingheragain.
ItextareplytoCooper,andbythetimeIgetoutofmysecondclassfortheday,Istillhaven’treceivedaresponse.He’sprobablyworking.Itellmyselfit’sjustconcernforthedogthatcausesthepangofdisappointment.ButwhoamIkidding?Ican’tignorewhathappenedonhisdecklastnight.Thesexualtensionnearlyspillingover,hisroughadmissionthathewantstokissme.Ifhehadn’tpulledbackImighthavecavedinamomentofblindweakness.
IhaveunderestimatedCooper’sallure.That’smyfault—Iknowbetterthantobeseducedbyhandsome,half-nakedguyswhoraceintohelprescueanimalsindistress.Ijusthavetobemorecautiousgoingforwardandkeepremindingmyselfthatwe’refriends.That’sit.Nousegettingittwisted.
Whenmyphonebuzzes,Ieagerlyyankitoutofmypocket,onlytofindamessagefromPreston.NotCooper.
Ibanishthesecondwaveofdisappointmenttotheverybackofmymindandusemythumbprinttoopenmylockscreen
Preston:Waitingforyouintheparkinglot.
Right.We’rehavinglunchoffcampustoday.I’mgladheremindedme,becauseIwasaboutfiveminutesawayfromscarfingdownachickenfiestawrapfromthesandwichshopnearthebusinessschool.
IslideintoPreston’sconvertible,andwetalkaboutourclassesashedrivesustoAvalonBay.Presfindssomestreetparkingneartheboardwalk.Mypulsequickens,andIforcemyselfnottolookinthedirectionoftherestaurantthatCooperandhisunclearerestoring.
Ilastabout3.5secondsbeforeIcave.Butthejobsiteisempty.Iguessthey’reontheirlunchbreak.Ormaybethecrewisonanotherjobtoday.
Onceagain,IpretendI’mnotdisappointed.
“Youdidn’ttellmewhatyouendedupdoingyesterday.”Presholdsmyhandasweheadtowardthesportsbar,wherewe’remeetingsomeofhisfriends.“Didyoucomeintotownorno?”
“Oh,yeah,Idid.Iexploredtheboardwalkandwalkeddownthepier,thenwatchedthesunsetonthebeach.Itwasreallynice.”
Imakeanon-the-spotexecutivedecisiontoomittheentirepuppyencounter.NotthatPresisthejealoustype,butIdon’twantittoturnintoawholediscussion,especiallywhenI’veonlyjustarrivedatGarnetandwe’redoingsowell.There’llbeanopportunitytotellhimaboutmyfriendshipwithCooper.Atsomepoint.Whenthetime’sright.
“Howdidyourpokergamego?Youdidn’ttextmeeither,nowthatIthinkaboutit.”ButI’malsonotthejealoustype.Havingdonethewholelong-distancething,PresandIareusedtotheoccasionalforgottentextorunansweredcall.Ifwegotworkedupeverytimeoneofusdidn’tresponduntilmorning,we’dhavebrokenupalongtimeago.That’strust.
“Howwasthepokergame?”echoesBenjiStanton,whooverhearsmyquestionasPresandIapproachthegroup.Hesnickersloudly.“Youbetterwatchoutforyourman.Thiskidisshitatcardsanddoesn’tknowwhentoquit.”
“So…notgood?”Iask,shootingateasingsmileatPres.
“Notgoodatall,”Benjiconfirms.He’sabusinessmajorlikePres.Theymetwhentheysharedafewclasseslastyear.
Benji’sparentsownpropertyinHiltonHead,andhisfatherrunsahedgefund.AllofPreston’sfriendshailfromsimilarbackgrounds.Asindisgustinglyrich.Finance,realestate,politics—theirparentsareallmembersofthebillionaires’club.Sofar,everyone’sbeenfriendlyandwelcomingtome.IwasnervousatfirstthattheymightlookatmesidewaysbecauseI’mafreshman,butIonlygetpositivevibesfromPreston’sGarnetfriends.
“Don’tlistentohim,babe.”Preskissesthetopofmyhead.“I’mplayingthelonggame.”
Afewminuteslater,we’reclimbingupthestairs.Sharkey’sSportsBarhastwofloors,theupperoneconsistingoftablesoverlookingtheocean,thelowerlevelofferinggametables,aplethoraofTVs,andthebar.Asaserverseatsourgroupatalonghigh-topneartherailing,theguyscontinuetoragonPrestonforbeingterribleatcards.
“Lockupyourgoodjewelry,Mac,”SebMarlowadvisesme.He’sfromFlorida,wherehisfamilyisamajordefensecontractorforthegovernment.It’sallveryseriousandsecret.I’dhavetokillyou,andallthat.Orthat’sthelineheusesatparties,atleast.“HewasthisclosetothrowingdownhisRolextobuybackintothegame.”
Stiflingalaugh,IquestionPres.“Pleasetellmehe’sjoking.”
Heshrugs,becausethemoneymeansnothingtohim,andhe’sgotmorewatchesthanheknowswhattodowith.“Howaboutyoutrymeatpool?”hescoffsathisfriends.“That’sarealgentleman’sgame.”
BenjilooksatSebandsmirks.“Doubleornothing?”
Neveronetobackdownfromachallenge,Prestonisalltooeager.“You’reon.”
TheguyspushbackfromthetableasPrestongivesmeapartingkissonthecheek.
“Onegame,”hesays.“Backinaflash.”
“Don’tloseyourcar,”Iwarn.“Ineedaridebacktocampus.”
“Don’tworry,”Benjicallsoverhisshoulder.“Igotyou.”
Presjustrollshiseyesbeforesaunteringafterhisbuddies.AnotherthingIappreciateabouthimisthathe’sagoodsport.I’veneverseenhimgetbentoutofshapeoverastupidgame,evenwhenhiswalletisalittlelightattheendofthenight.Granted,it’seasytogetoverlosingwhenthere’saseeminglyendlesssupplyofsomeoneelse’smoneytoplaywith.
“Nowthattheboysaregone…”Melissa,Benji’sgirlfriend,pushesthecollectionofwaterglassesasidetoleanintowardmeandSeb’sgirlfriendChrissy.
Idon’tknowanythingaboutMelissaotherthanshesails,andIknowevenlessaboutChrissy.IwishIhadmoreincommonwiththesegirlsotherthanthesizeofourparents’bankaccounts.
Truthbetold,Idon’thavetoomanyfemalefriends.AndthesepastfewweekshaveconfirmedthatIstillsuckatbuildingconnectionswithmyfemalepeers.IloveBonnietobits,butshefeelsmorelikeayoungersisterthanafriend.Ihadgirlfriendsinhighschool,butnobodyI’dconsideraride-or-dietypeoffriend.Theonlyonewhocomesclosesttobeingmy“bestfriend”ismyoldcampfriendSara,whoIraisedhellwitheverysummeruntilIturnedeighteen.Westilltextperiodically,butshelivesinOregonandit’sbeenacoupleyearssinceI’veseenher.
Mysocialgroupnowconsistsofmyroommate,myboyfriend,andmyboyfriend’sfriends,whowastenotimebendingtheirheadstogethertogossip.
“SowhatdidyoufindoutaboutthatSnapchatgirl?”Melissademands.
Chrissytakesadeepbreathlikeshe’sabouttodivetothebottomofapoolforapairofJimmyChoos.“Itwassomesophomorechickwho’satGarnetonscholarship.Ifoundherroommate’sbestfriendonInstagramandDMedher.Shesaidherfriendtoldherthatherroommatesaidtheymetataboatpartyandmadeout.”
“Sotheyonlykissed?”Melissaasks,asthoughshe’sdisappointedintheanswer.
Chrissyshrugs.“SupposedlysomeoneattheboatpartywalkedinonsomeonegettingaBJ.MaybeitwasSeb,maybenot.Doesn’treallymatter.”
IfI’dknownmymotherincollege,Iimagineshe’dhavebeenalotlikeChrissy.Prim,puttogether,andunflappable.Notahairoreyelashoutofplace.Sothefactthatshewouldentertainsomethingasmessyascheatingstrikesmeasantithetical.
“Wait,”Iinterject,“yourboyfriendischeatingonyou,andyoudon’tcare?”
ThegirlsbothstareatmeasthoughIhaven’tbeenpayingattention.
“TwoformerpresidentsoftheUnitedStatesandthecrownprinceofSaudiArabiawereathisfather’sbirthdaypartyintheSeychelleslastyear,”Chrissysaysflatly.“Youdon’tbreakupwithguyslikeSebastianoversomethingastriflingasinfidelity.He’sthemanyoumarry.”
Ifrownather.“You’dmarrysomeoneyouknowischeatingonyou?”
Shedoesn’tanswer,justlooksatme,blinking.Isanexpectationofmonogamysobanalandold-fashioned?IthoughtIwasfairlyopen-minded,butapparentlymybeliefsaboutloveandromancearescandalous.
“It’shardlyevenconsideredcheating,”Melissascoffs,wavingadismissivehand.“Sebhookedupwithascholarshipchick?Whocares.Now,ifitwasawifey,that’sawholeotherstory.Arealreasontoworry.”
“Awifey?”Iecho.
Chrissygivesmeacondescendinglook.“FormenlikeSebandBenjiandPreston,therearetwokindsofwomen.AwifeyandaMarilyn.Theonesyoumarry,andtheonesyouscrew.”
Can’tyouscrewtheoneyoumarry?Ormarrytheoneyouscrew?Iswallowthequestions.Becausewhat’sthepoint?
“Don’tworry,”Melissasays.Shereachesacrossthetabletoputherhandonmine,inwhatshemustthinkisacomfortinggesture.“You’redefinitelywifeymaterial.Prestonknowsthat.Allyouneedtoworryaboutislockingthatdownandgettingthering.Everythingelseis…”SheglancesatChrissyfortheword.“Extracurricular.”
ThatisthemostdepressingrelationshipadviceI’veeverheard.Thesewomenhavetheirownfamilymoneyandsmallempires—theydon’tneedstrategicmaritalalliances.Sowhydotheysellthemselvesintolovelessarrangements?
WhenImarryPrestononeday,itwon’tbeformoneyorfamilyconnections.Ourvowswon’tincludeacaveatthatcheatingistoleratedaslongasthestockpriceisup.
“Iwouldn’twanttolivethatway,”Itellthem.“Ifarelationshipisn’tbuiltonloveandmutualrespect,what’sthepoint?”
Melissaregardsmewithapatronizingtilttoherheadandafaintlypoutinglip.“Oh,sweetie,everyonethinksthatwayatfirst.Buteventually,wehavetostartbeingmorerealistic.”
Chrissysaysnothing,buthercold,impassiveexpressionstrikessomethinginsideme.It’sfleetingandundefined,butitunsettlesmystomach.
AllIknowis,Idon’teverwanttoreachthepointwhereIviewinfidelityas“extracurricular.”
Later,whenPreston’sdrivingmebacktoTallyHall,Ibroachthesubject.SinceMelissaandChrissydidn’tswearmetosecrecy,Idon’tfeelbadasking,“DidyouknowthatMelissaandChrissythinkSeb’scheatingonChrissy?”
Hedoesn’tflinch,changinggearsashetakesusdownthewindingroadsaroundtheedgeofcampus.“Ihadafeeling.”
Ifightafrown.“Isittrue?”
“Ihaven’tasked,”hesays.Then,afterafewseconds,“Iwouldn’tbesurprised.”
WhetherPrestonwasatthatboatpartyorknowsoftheparticularincidentisirrelevant.Hewouldn’tthrowhisfriendunderthebusifhedidn’tbelieveitwaspossible.WhichtellsmeeverythingIneedtoknow.
“Sheisn’tevenmadaboutit.”Ishakemyheadindisbelief.“Eitherofthem,actually.Costofdoingbusiness,asfarasthey’reconcerned.”
“Ifigured.”Prespullsuptotheparkinglotoutsidemydorm.Hetakesoffhissunglassesandlooksmeintheeyes.“There’vebeenwhispersforafewweeks.SebandChrissyhavechosentoignoreit,bestthatIcantell.Honestly,it’snotunusual.”
“Cheatingisn’tunusual?”Tome,cheatingissoinsulting.Itsaystoyourpartner:Idon’tloveyouenoughtobefaithful,andIdon’trespectyouenoughtoletyougo.It’stheworstkindoftrap.
Heshrugs.“Forsomepeople.”
“Let’snotbethosepeople,”Iimplorehim.
“We’renot.”Prestonleansoverthecenterconsole.Hecupsthesideofmyfaceandkissesmesoftly.Whenhepullsback,hispaleblueeyesshinewithconfidence.“I’dbeacompletefooltojeopardizeourrelationship,babe.IknowwifematerialwhenIseeit.”
Ithinkhe’ssayingitasacompliment,butthefactthatheusesMelissa’sexactphrasingbringsaqueasyfeelingtomygut.IfI’mthewifey,doesthatmeanhehasaMarilyn?OrmultipleMarilyns?
Frustrationrisesinmythroat.IhatethatMelissaandChrissyplantedthisnastyseedofsuspicioninmyhead.
“I’mwifematerial,huh?”Itease,tryingtotampdownmyunease.“Why’sthat?”
“Hmmm,well…”Hislipstravelalongmycheektowardmyear,wherehegivesthelobeateasingnibble.“Becauseyou’rehot.Andsmart.Goodheadonyourshoulders.Hot,ofcourse.You’reloyal.You’rehot.Annoyinghowmuchyouarguesometimes—”
“Hey,”Iprotest.
“—butyoudon’tfightbackontheimportantstuff,”hefinishes.“Wehavesimilargoalsaboutwhatwewantoutoflife.Oh,anddidImentionyou’rehot?”
Hislipsbrushmineagain.Ikisshimback,albeitabitdistracted.Thelisthe’drecitedwasreallysweet.Sosweetthatguiltispricklingatmythroatnow,becauseIguessthatmakesmetheassholewiththiswholeCooperthing.
Friendshipisn’tcheating,eveniftheotherpartyisattractive,butmaybeit’scheatingadjacent?
No.Ofcoursenot.Textmessagesaren’tadultery.It’snotlikewe’resendingeachothernudesanddescribingoursexualfantasies.Andafterlastnight,CooperandIbothhaveaclearideawherethelineis.Morethanever,Iknowbetterthantocrossit.
I’mwalkingtomydormwhenatextpopsupfromthedevilhimself.It’saccompaniedbyapictureofEvanandthepuppyplayingfetchonthebeach.
Cooper:Changeofplans.She’smovingin.CHAPTERELEVEN
COOPER
“Who’stheprettiestgirlintheworld?Isityou?BecauseIthinkit’syou!Lookatyou,youbeautifullittleangel.Icouldeatyouup,that’showperfectyouare,youprettygirl.”
Thelitanyofbabytalkescapingthemouthofmygrown-asstwinbrotherisshameful.
Andtheobjectofhisadorationisshameless.ThenewestmemberoftheHartleyhouseholdstrutsaroundthekitchenlikeshewasjustnamedsupremeleaderofthepack.Whichshebasicallyis.She’sgotEvanwrappedaroundherlittlepaw.Me,I’mnotgoingtofallinlovewiththefirstcutefaceIsee.
“Dude,”Iwarn.“Dialitdownanotch.You’reembarrassingyourself.”
“Nah.Lookhowprettysheisnow.”Hescoopsthepuppyoffthefloorandthrustshertowardme.“Pether.Feelhowsoftandsilky.”
Idutifullypethergoldenfur,which,forthefiftybucksitcosttogroomheryesterday,betterbesoft.ThenIswipethedogfromhishandsandsetherbackonthefloor.
Onwhichshepromptlypees.
“Motherfucker,”Igrumble.
Evaninstantlybecomesamotherhen,grabbingpapertowelsandcooingathisnewgirlfriendashesopsupherpeepuddle.“It’sokay,prettygirl.Weallhaveaccidents.”
We’restillworkingoutthiswholedog-trainingthing,learningaswegofromvetblogsandpetwebsites.AllIknowis,inthepastsevendaysI’vecleanedupmorepissanddogshitthanIeverintendedinmylife.Thatthing’sluckyshe’ssocute.Lastweek,afterthevetattheshelterconfirmedthedogwasn’tchippedandhadprobablybeenabandonedforsometime,Ididn’thavethehearttostickherinacageorabandonheragain.Imightbeabastard,butI’mnotwithoutmercy.Sothevetgaveussomespecialfoodtofattenherup,sentusonourway,andnowwehaveadog.
Andabusydayofmanuallabor,ifEvanwouldquitfawningoverhisprettygirl.
Thismorning,Iwokeupwithafireundermyasstogetstuffdone.EvanandIhavethedayoff,soIdecided,whatthehell,there’snevergoingtobearighttimetostartgettingthishouseinbettershape.It’stheonlylousylegacyourfamilyhasleft.SoIshookEvanoutofbedearly,andweheadedtothehardwarestoretofigureoutwhatwewouldneed.
Firstjobonthehomerenovationlist:replacingtheroof.It’snotgoingtobecheap.Digsintomysavingsquiteabit,butEvankickedinhalfwithsomeconvincing.Atleastdoingtheworkourselveswillsaveusafewgrand.
“Comeon,weshouldgetstarted,”Itellmybrother.Weplantospendtherestofthedaypullingtheoldroofoff,andthentomorrowwe’lllaydownthenewmaterials.Shouldn’ttakeusmorethanacoupleofdaysifweworkfast
“Let’sgoforaquickwalkfirst.It’lltireheroutsoshe’llsleepwhilewework.”
Withoutawaitingmyresponse,hescoopsupthepuppyandheadsforthebackdoor,whereherleashishangingonahook.
“SweartoGod,ifyou’renotbackintenminutes,I’mreturninghertotheshelter.”
“Fuckoff.She’sheretostay.”
Sighing,Iwatchhimandthedogscamperdownthedeckstepstowardthesand.Ourdeliveryfromthehardwarestorehasn’tarrivedyet,butwecouldatleastbemakingourselvesusefulbypreppingthecurrentroof.Unfortunately,Evan’sworkethicisn’tassolidasmine.Mybrotherwillfindanyopportunitytoprocrastinate.
Onthedeck,IrestmyforearmsagainsttherailingandgrinwhenIseethegoldenretrievermakeabeelineforthewater.Theregoeshernewfoundsoftness.ServesEvanright.
AsIwait,IpulloutmyphoneandtextMac.
Me:HowaboutPotato?
Herresponseisalmostinstantaneous.Makesmyegoswellabit,knowingI’vegotpriorityinhertextingqueue.
Mackenzie:Absolutelynot.
Me:MaryPawpins?
Mackenzie:Better.I’msayingDaisy.
Me:Canyougetanymoregeneric?
Mackenzie:You’regeneric.
Me:Nahbabe,I’moneofakind.
Mackenzie:Notyourbabe.
Me:Whatchadoingrightnow?
Mackenzie:Inclass.
Shefollowsthatupwithagunemojinexttoagirl’sheademoji.Isnickeratmyphone.
Me:Thatbad?
Mackenzie:Worse.Istupidlychosebiologyformyrequiredscience.WhyareallthespeciesnamesinLatin!!!AndIforgothowmuchIhatecelltheory!Didyouknowthecellisthemostbasicbuildingblockoflife?
Me:Ithoughtthatwassex.
Mackenziesendsaneyerollemoji,thensaysshehastogobecauseherprofessorisstartingtocallonstudentstoanswerquestions.Idon’tenvyher.
EventhoughGarnethasdecentscholarshipopportunitiesforlocals,I’veneverhadanydesiretoattendcollege.Idon’tseethepoint.EverythingIneedtoknowaboutconstructionorwoodworking,Icanlearnfrommyuncle,online,orinlibrarybooks.Lastyear,ItooksomebookkeepingclassesatthecommunitycenterintownsoIcouldlearntobettermanageourfinances(asmeagerastheyare),butthatonlycostmeahundredbucks.WhythehellwouldIeverpaytwenty-fivegrandpersemestertobetoldcellsareimportantandthatweevolvedfromapes?
Ahonkfromthefrontofthehousecatchesmyattention.Ourorder’shere.
Outfront,IgreetBillyandJayWestwithfistbumpsandgood-naturedbackslaps.They’resomeoftheoldcrew,grewupintheBay.Thoughwedon’tseemuchofthemthesedays.
“Thisoughttobeeverythingyouneed,”Billysays,openingthetailgateofthepickuptruck.Wehadtobuyandborrowsomespecifictools,getanaircompressorandwhatnot.Onthetrailer,he’sgotthenewshinglesonpallets.
“Looksgood,”Isay,helpinghimhaulthingsoffthetruck.
“Dadsaidthere’snochargeonthecompressorifyoucangetitbacktohimbyMonday.Andhe’sgivingyoutheunderlaymentandvalleyflashingatcost.”
“Appreciateit,B,”Isay,shakinghishand.
AroundtheBay,wewatchoutforeachother.Wehaveourownbarteringsystem—domeafavortoday,Ihelpyououttomorrow.It’stheonlywaymostofushavesurvivedthestormsoverthepastcoupleyears.Youneedtobeabletorelyonyourneighborstocometogether,supportoneanother;otherwise,thiswholetowngoestoshit.
Billy,Jay,andIunloadthetrailerintheblisteringheat,allthreeofusdrenchedinsweatbythetimeweliftthelastpallet.We’resettingitonthegroundwhenBilly’sphonerings,andhewandersofftotakethecall.
“Hey,Coop.”Jaywipeshisbrowwiththeshortsleeveofhisshirt.“Gotasec?”
“Sure.Let’sgrabsomewater.”Wewalkovertothecooleronthefrontporchtopulloutacouplebottlesofwater.It’sblazingouthere.Summerrefusingtodie.“What’sup?”
Jayawkwardlyshiftshishugefeet.He’sthebiggestofthefiveWestboys—sixfive,overtwohundredpoundsofsolidmuscle.Stephcallshimthe“gentlegiant,”whichisanaptdescription.Jay’sasweetguy,thefirstpersontohelpsomeoneinneed.Hedoesn’tpossessameanboneinhisbody.
“Wantedtoaskyousomething.”Hischeeksareslowlyreddening,andit’snotbecauseoftheheat.“YouandHeidi…”
Iwrinklemyforehead.DefinitelynotwhatIexpectedhimtosay.
“Iheardsomerumorsaboutyouguysthissummer,anduh…”Heshrugs.“Wasn’tsureifit’sathingornot.”
“It’snot.”
“Oh.Okay.Cool.”Hechugshalfthebottlebeforespeakingagain.“IranintoheratJoe’stheothernight.”
Itrynottochuckleathisshyexpression.Iknowwherehe’sgoingwiththisnow,buthe’stakingthelongwaytogetthere.
“Andhow’dthatgo?”Iask.Ihaven’tseenHeidiorthegirlsinseveraldays.
“Fun.Itwasfun.”Hegulpsdownsomemorewater.“Youdon’tmindifIaskherout,doya?Sinceyoutwoaren’tathing?”
JayWestistheepitomeoftheboynextdoor,andHeidiwilleathimalive.Ifsheevengiveshimashottobeginwith,whichIdoubt,sinceI’mfairlysureI’mtheonlyguyintownshe’ssleptwith.Shedatedsomedudeforayearinhighschool,buthedidn’tliveintheBay.Heidi’salwayshadonefootoutthedooranyway.I’mhonestlysurprisedshehasn’tskippedtownyet.
Idon’thavethehearttotellJayshe’llprobablyturnhimdown,soIsimplyclaphimontheshoulderandsay,“’CourseIdon’tmind.She’sagreatgirl—makesureyoutreatherright.”
“Scout’shonor,”hepromises,holdinguponehandintheBoyScoutgesture.OfcoursehewasaScout.Probablyearnedallhisbadgestoo.Meanwhile,EvanandIgotkickedoutofourtroopwhenwewereeightbecausewetriedsettingourscoutleader’sgearonfire.
“Hey,didn’trealizeyouboyswerehere.”Evancomesupwiththepuppyonaleash,ruefullyglancingatallthesupplieswe’veunloaded—nothankstohim.“OtherwiseIwould’vegivenyouahand.”
Isnort.Yeahright.
“When’dyougetadog?”adelightedJayasks.Hepromptlykneelsandstartsplayingwiththepuppy,whotriestoniphisstrokingfingers.“What’shisname?”
“Her,”Icorrect.“Andwedon’tknowyet.”
“MyvoteisforKitty,butCoopdoesn’tappreciateirony,”Evanpipesup.
“We’restilldeciding,”Isay.
Billywrapsuphiscallandapproachesus.HenodsatEvan,whonodsbackandsays,“Billy.How’sthings?”
“Yeah,good.”
Thetwoshareanuneasylook,whileIstandthereindiscomfort.GentlegiantJayisoblivioustothetension,thoroughlyoccupiedbythepuppy.Thisiswhywedon’tseeBillyandhisbrothersanymore.It’stoodamnawkward.
ButEvancan’thelphimself.Alwaystakesittothenextlevelofawkwardness.“How’sGen?”
Billygruntsacurt“Fine,”andcan’tgethistrailerclosedupfastenoughbeforeheandJayarepracticallypeelingoutofourfrontyard.
“Thehellwasthatabout?”IsaytoEvan.
“What’swhat?”HesaysthisasifIdon’tknowexactlywhatgoesoninhisdamnhead.
“Thoughtyouweren’thunguponGenevieve.”
“I’mnot.”Hebrushesmeoffandgoestotheporch,grabbingsomewater.
“Sheblewtownwithbarelyaheadsup,”Iremindhim.“Trustme,thatchickisn’tsittingaroundworryingaboutyou.”
“Isaidit’swhatever,”Evaninsists.“Iwasjustmakingconversation.”
“Withherbrothers?Iwouldn’tbesurprisedifBillyblamesyouforherrunningallthewaytoCharleston.ForallIknow,he’sbeenwaitingtokickyourass.”
Evan’sexwastherealhellionofourgroup.We’veallexperimentedwiththeoccasionalillicitsubstance,brokenafewlaws,butGenwasonanotherlevel.Ifitwasstupidandstoodachancetokillher,shewantedseconds.AndEvanwasrighttherenexttoher.Allegedly,shelefttogethershittogether.Newplace,newlife.Whoknowsifit’strue?Ifanyofthegirlsstilltalktoher,theydon’tbringitup.WhichisalltheproofEvanshouldneedthatGenevieveWestdoesn’tgiveacrapthatshetorehisfuckingheartout.
“Youstillinlovewithher?”Iaskhim.
Hetakesoffhisshirttowipethesweatfromhisface.Thenhemeetsmyeyes.“Idon’teventhinkabouther.”
Yeahright.Iknowthatexpression.Iworethatsameexpressioneverydayourdadwasn’taround.Everytimeourmomwalkedoutonusforweeksormonthsatatime.SometimesheforgetsI’mtheonepersonintheworldhecan’tlieto.
Myphonevibrates,momentarilydistractingmefrommybrother’sbullshit.IcheckthescreentofindatextfromMac.
Mackenzie:Mybioprofjustsharedwiththeclassthathe’sgotadognamedMrs.Puddles.Isaywestealthenameandneverlookback.
Ican’tstopachuckle,causingEvantoeyemesharplyoverthelipofhiswaterbottle.
“Whataboutyou?”Abitecreepsintohisvoice.
“Whataboutme?”
“EverytimeIlookover,you’retextingtheclone.Youtwoaregettingawfullycute.”
“Thoughtthatwastheidea,genius.She’snotdumpingherboyfriendforsomeassholeshedoesn’tlike.”
“Whatdoyoutextabout?”hedemands.
“Nothingimportant.”It’snotalie.Mostlyweargueaboutnamesandhowtotrainourdog.Machasgrantedherselfpartialcustodyandvisitationrights.Itellhershe’swelcometochipinforpuppypadsanddogfood.Shedemandsmorephotos.
“Uh-huh.”Hereadsmewithnarroweyes.“You’renotcatchingfeelingsfortherichbitch,areyou?”
“Hey.”Evancanthrowalltheshithewantsatme,buthisangerhasnothingtodowithMac.“Shedidn’tdoanythingtoyou.Infact,she’sbeenperfectlynice.Sohowaboutyouwatchyourmouth.”
“Sincewhendoyoucare?”Hestepsuptome,gettinginmyface.“She’soneofthem,remember?Aclone.Herentitledshitheadboyfriendgotyoufired.Don’tgetittwistedwhichsideyou’reon.”
“I’monourside,”Iremindhim.“Always.”
There’snothingstrongerthanmybondwithmybrother.Period.Agirldoesn’tchangethat.Evan’sjustgotathorninhispawabouteveryonewhogoestoGarnet.Farashe’sconcerned,they’retheenemy.It’sanattitudemostkidswho’vegrownuparoundhereshare,andIdon’tblamethem.Idon’trememberthelasttimeaclonedidanythingbutuseandabuseus.
Whenitcomesdowntoit,Mac’saproductofwhereshecomesfrom,thesameasme.Thatdoesn’tmeanifweweren’tdifferentpeople—ifwecamefromsimilarbackgrounds,livedsimilarlives—Icouldn’tseemyselflikingher.She’ssmart,funny,sexyashell.I’dbeanidiotnottoadmitthat.
Butwearen’tdifferentpeopleandthisisn’tsomeotherlife.
IntheBay,weplaythecardswe’redealt.CHAPTERTWELVE
MACKENZIE
I’mtwentyminutesintomyWednesdaybiologyclassbeforeIrealizeit’sFridayandI’mactuallysittinginmymediaculturelecture.NowthoseRealHousewivesclipsontheprojectionscreenmakewaymoresense.Ithoughtmaybetheywerenervoushallucinations.
Truthis,Ihaven’tbeenquiterightthepastfewdays.Schoolboresme,andmydissatisfactionovermybusinessisgrowing.It’sfrustratinghowlittleworkthereistodoontheapps,nowthatI’vedelegatedmostofmydutiestootherpeople.Ineedanewproject,somethingbigandchallengingtosinkmyteethinto.
Tomakemattersworse,I’mbattlingthisconstantfeelingthatsomeoneislookingovermyshoulder.Toeingaknife’sedge.Everytimemyphonebuzzes,it’sashotofendorphinsfollowedbyarushofadrenaline,guilt,andapitofnauseainmystomach.I’manaddict,jonesingforthehitdespiteknowingit’skillingme.
Cooper:HowboutMoxieCrimefighter?
Me:IlikeJimmyChew.
Cooper:She’sagirl!
Me:Istillthinkshe’saDaisy.
Cooper:MuttleyCrue.
It’ssomekindoftwistedforeplay.Bickeringaboutpuppynamesasaformofflirting,everyescalationanotherpieceofclothingwe’redaringtheothertoremoveinametaphoricalgameofstrippoker.It’sgottentobetoomuch.Ican’tstopmyself,though.Everytimehetextsme,Isaythiswillbethelasttime,thenIholdmybreath,typeareply,hitsend,andwaitformynextfix.
WhydoIdothistomyself?
Cooper:Whatareyouuptonow?
Me:Class.
Cooper:Comeoverafter?We’lltakeMoonZappaforawalkonthebeach.
WhydoIdoit?BecauseCooperturnsmyinsidesout,getsmyheadmessedup.Iwakeincoldsweatsfromunbiddendreamsofhissculptedbodyandhissoulfuleyes.AsmuchasIwanttodenyit,I’mstartingtolikehim.Whichmakesmeaterribleperson.Arotten,horriblegirlfriend.Still,Ihaven’tactedonanything.I’mcapableofexertingself-control.Mindovermatterandallthat.
Me:Bethereinanhour.
Forourdog,Itellmyself.Tomakesurehe’stakinggoodcareofher.Uh-huh.
Self-control,mybutt.
Anhourlater,I’mathisfrontdoorandshitisawkward.Idon’tknowifit’smeorhimorboth,butluckilyourpuppyservesasamuch-neededdistraction.Shejumpsatmyknees,andIspendthenextfewminutesentirelyfocusedonpettingher,scratchingbehindherearandkissinghercutelittlenose.
Itisn’tuntilwe’resomewaysdownthebeachfromhishousethatCoopernudgesmyarm.
Iglanceover.“Huh,what?”
“Somethingup?”heasks.Thebeachisempty,soCooperletsthedogofftheleashandtossesasmallpieceofdriftwoodforhertofetch.
Itisn’tfair.Hehasjustremovedhisshirt,andnowI’mforcedtowatchhimstrollaroundbare-chested,apairofwornjeanshangingoffhiships.NomatterwhereelseItrytodivertmyeyes,theyreturntotheyummyVthatdisappearsintohiswaistband.MymouthactuallywaterslikeoneofPavlov’sstupiddogs.
“Sorry,”Isay.Itakethestickfromthedogwhenshebringsittome,thentossitforheragain.“Distractedwithschoolstuff.”
Itdoesn’ttakelongforustowearthepuppyoutandheadbacktoCooper’shouse.Heputshisshirton,afadedBillabongteesothinitmoldstoeachmuscleofhisperfectchest.It’sgettingharderandhardernottothinkveryun-friend-likethoughts.Whichmeansit’sdefinitelytimeformetogo.
YetwhenheasksifIwantaridebacktomydorm,Ifindawaytorefusewithoutquitesayingno.Insteadweendupinhisstudio,adetachedgarageonthesideofthepropertythatcontainstablesaws,machines,andanarrayofothertools.Thereareracksofrawwoodonthewalls.Theflooriscoveredinsawdust.Atthefarendofthespace,Iglimpseseveralpiecesoffinishedwoodenfurniture.
“Youmadethese?”Irunmyhandsoveracoffeetable,achair,askinnybookshelf.There’salsoachestofdrawersandapairofendtables.Everythingisdoneinvaryingfinishes,buttheyallhaveamoderncoastalaesthetic.Cleanandsimple.Elegant.
“Sortofmysidehustle,”hesayswithobviouspride.“It’sallreclaimedwood.StuffIfind.Ibreakitdowntoitsbasicforms,thenrepurposeit,bringoutwhatitwasmeanttobe.”
“I’mimpressed.”
Heshrugs,brushingoffthecomplimentasthoughI’mmerelybeingpolite.
“No,Imeanit.Cooper,youhaverealtalent.Youcouldmakeseriousmoneyoffthis.Iknowadozenofmymom’sfriendswhowouldtearthroughthisplacelikeitwasaSakstrunksale,throwingmoneyatyou.”
“Yeah,well.”Hehideshisfacewhileputtingawaytoolsandrearranginghisworkbench,asifheneedstokeephishandsbusy.“Withoutthecapitaltoquitmydayjob,Idon’thavetimetochurnoutthekindofvolumeI’dneedtoturnitintoanykindofsustainablebusiness.Isellafewthingshereandthere.Makealittleextracashwecanusetofixupthehouse.It’sjustahobby.”
Iplantonehandonmyhip.“Youhavetoletmebuysomething.”
BeforeIcanblink,hewalksoverandthrowsadropclothoverthepieces.Hewon’tmeetmyeyesashewarns,“Don’t.”
“Don’twhat?”Isayblankly.
“Don’tdothat.Thesecondyoustartlookingatmeasaproject,this”—hegesturesbetweenus—“stopsworking.Idon’tneedyourhelp.Ididn’tshowyouthistogetmoneyoutofyou.”
“Iknow.”Igrabhisarm,forcinghimtolookatme.“Thisisn’tcharity.You’renotapitycase,Cooper.Iconsideritaninvestmentinanundiscoveredtalent.”
Hesnortssoftly.
“Seriously.Whenyoublowup,I’mgoingtotelleveryoneIgottherefirst.Richgirlslovebeingtrendsetters.”
Hestudiesme,hisdarkeyessearching.Hehasanintensityabouthim,anaturalaurathat’sbothmagneticanddangerous.ThemoreItellmyselftokeepmydistance,thecloserI’mdrawnin.
Finally,areluctantsmilesurfaces.“Fuckingclones.”
“Good.Youthinkaboutafairpriceforthecoffeetableandchairs.Thefurniturewehaveinthedormishideous,anyway.BonnieandIweregoingtoshopforsomethingbutgotsidetrackedwithschool.”
Ihopuptositonanearbyworktable,swingingmylegsbeneathme.IknowIshouldgo,butIenjoythisguy’scompanyfartoomuch.
It’sbecomingarealproblem.
Cooper’sstillwatchingme,hisexpressionindecipherable.Hisgazejerksawayfromminewhenhegetsatext.Hepullsouthisphone,andwhateverhereadsmakeshimlaughtohimself.
“What’ssofunny?”
“Nothing.MyfriendStephjustsentafunnyposttoourgroupchat.Here,look.”Hejoinsmeonthetable.Ittakesabsolutelynoeffortforhimtohaulhisbigbodyupandplanthisbuttbesideme.
Ileantowardhimtolookathisphone,tryingvaliantlynottonoticehowgoodhesmells.Acombinationofspice,sawdust,andtheocean—whichisn’tascentthatspringstomindwhenyouthinkofaphrodisiacsandpheromones,andyetitmakesmelight-headedandtingly
Oddlyenough,hisopenchatthreadshowsascreenshotofnoneotherthanmywebsite.ThisparticularpostisfromGirlfriendFails,ananecdoteaboutagirlwhogoeshomewithaguylateonenightaftermeetingatabar.Theysleeptogether,butafterhe’sfallenasleep,sherealizesshe’sstartedherperiodanddoesn’thaveatamponorpad.Soshegoesrummagingthroughhisapartmenttoseeifthereareanyinoneofthebathrooms.Thefirstbathroomisdevoidofmenstrualproducts,soshehasnochoicebuttocreepintothesecondbedroomandsneakintotheensuitebathroom.Shefindsaboxoftamponsunderthesinkjustassomeonewalksinonher.It’stheguy’smom,wieldingalampasaweaponbecauseshethinksshe’sbeingrobbed.She’sscreaminglikeabanshee,demandingtoknowwhythisnearlynakedgirlinaT-shirtandunderwearisriflingthroughherbathroomatfourinthemorning.
“Canyouevenimagine?”Coopergrins.“Kindamakesmegladmymomisn’taround.”
IshouldprobablytellhimthatI’mthebrainsbehindthesitehe’slaughingover.ButIdon’thavethehearttosay,Yeah,Iownthiswebsite.LauncheditandmademyfirstmillionwhileIwasstillinhighschool.Buttellmemoreaboutyourstrugglingfurniturebusiness.Whatajerkthatwouldmakeme.
Idon’tbragaboutmysuccessingeneral,butitfeelsextrawrongtosaysomethingnow.SoIaddresshismomcomment,asking,“Whereisshe?”
“Noidea.”There’sastinginhisvoice.Hurtandanger.
I’mrealizingI’vetouchedanerveandamscurryingtothinkofhowtochangethesubjectwhenhereleasesaraggedbreathandkeepstalking.
“ShewasbarelyaroundwhenEvanandIwerekids.Comingandgoingwithadifferentguyeverycoupleofmonths.She’dtakeoffoneday,thenshowupunexpectedlookingformoney.”Heshrugs.“ShelleyHartleywasneveranykindofmother.”
Theburdenhe’scarried—stillcarries—isobviousinthedropofhisbroadshoulders,thecreaseofhisforeheadashepicksatfraysonhisjeans.
“I’msorry,”Isayearnestly.“Whataboutyourdad?”
“Dead.Diedinadrunkdrivingaccidentwhenweweretwelve,thoughnotbeforerackingupamountainofcreditcarddebtthatsomehowbecameourproblem.”Cooperpicksupachisel,handlesitamoment,thenabsentlyscratchesattheplywoodsurfaceofthetable.“Theonlythingseitherofourparentsevergaveuswereliabilities.”Thenwithasuddenferocity,hestabsthechiselstraightintothewood.“ButI’llbedamnedifIenduplikethem.Ratherthrowmyselfoffabridge.”
Iswallow.He’sabitscarysometimes.Notthreatening,exactly.Unpredictable,wiredwiththekineticpotentialofthedemonsthattormenthismind.CooperHartleyhasdepthsthataredarkandtreacherous,andthatrecklesspartofme—theimpulsesIkeepburieddeep—wantsnothingmorethantodiveinandexplore.
It’sjustonemorereasonI’mfindingmyselfinovermyhead.
Iwrapmyhandoverhis.“Forwhatit’sworth,”Itellhim,becauserightnowheneedsafriendtosaytheyhearhim,theyunderstand,“Idon’tthinkyou’reanythinglikethem.You’rehardworking,talented,smart.Youhaveambition.Trustme,that’smorethanmostpeoplehavegoingforthem.Aguywithalittlebitofluckandalotofinitiativecanmakehislifeanythinghewants.”
“Easyforyoutosay.Howmanyponiesdidyourparentsbuyforyourbirthdays?”Helobsasarcasticjabmyway,andIknowit’sbecauseI’mtheonlytargetintheroom.
Iofferaruefulsmile.“I’mluckyifIcangetpastmyownmother’sassistantwhenIcall.Mybirthdaycardsareissuedbytheirpersonalstaffs.Myreportcardsandpermissionslipsweresignedbyemployees.”
“Fairtradeoffforgettingeverythingyou’veeverwantedbysnappingyourfingers.”
“Isthatreallywhatyouthink?”Ishakemyheadathim.“Yes,I’mextremelyfortunatetohavebeenbornintoawealthyfamily.Butmoneybecomesanexcuseforeverything.Itbecomesawallbetweenallofus.Becauseyou’vegottenonethingright—weareclones.FromthedayIwasborn,myparentshavegroomedmetobelikethem.Theydon’tthinkofmeasanindividualwithmyownthoughtsandopinions.I’maprop.Iswear,sometimesIwonderifIwasonlyborntohelpmyfather’spoliticalaspirations.”
Coopergivesmeaquestioninglook.
“MyfatherisaUSCongressman,”Iexplain.“Andeveryoneknowsvotersprefercandidateswithfamilies.Atleastthat’swhatthepollsterssay.So,poof,hereIam.Bornandbredforcampaignphotoops.BuilttosmileprettyforthecameraandsaynicethingsaboutDaddyatfundraisers.AndIdidit,allofit,withoutquestionorcomplaint.BecauseIhopedonedayitwouldmakethemloveme.”Abitterlaughpopsout.“Honestly,though,Idon’tthinkthey’dnoticeifIwerereplacedwithatotallydifferentdaughter.Recastinmyownlife.They’renotallthatinterestedinmeasaperson.”
It’sthefirsttimeI’veventedallthisoutloud.ThefirsttimeI’veletanyoneintothispartofme.Imean,yeah,I’veconfidedinPrestonplentyoftimes,butnotsounfiltered.Thetwoofuscomefromthesamesphere.It’snormaltohim,andhehasnocomplaintsabouthislotinlife.Andwhywouldhe?He’saman.Hegetstorunthefamilyempiresomeday.Me?Ihavetokeepmyaspirationsonthedown-lowsomyparentsdon’trealizeIhavenointentionofbeingaquiethousewifewhenIfinallygrowoutof“myteenagetrifles.”
Theythinkmywebsitesareacompletewasteoftime.“Apassingfolly,”asmymotherkeptreferringtoitduringthegapyearIhadtofighttoothandnailfor.WhenI’dproudlytoldmydadthatmybankaccounthadofficiallyreachedsevenfigures,he’dscoffed.Saidamillionbuckswasadropinthebucket.Comparedtothehundredsofmillionshiscompanynetseveryquarter,Isupposemyearningsseempitiful.Buthecould’veatleastpretendedtobeproudofme.
Cooperregardsmeinsilenceforseverallongbeats.Then,asifadaydreamevaporatesinhismind,hisintenseeyesrefocusonme.“Alright.I’llgrantyouthathavingemotionallyabsentparentsisn’tmuchbetterthanphysicallyabsentones.”
Ilaugh.“Sowheredoesthatleavethescorecardinthetournamentofchildhoodtrauma?”
“Yeah,I’vestillgotyoubeatbyamile,butyou’reontheboard.”
“Fair.”
Weexchangeknowinggrinsatthefutilityofsucharguments.Itwasn’tmyintentiontoturnthediscussionintoacompetition—I’dnevermakelightofthepainCooperhassuffered—butIguessIwasholdinginabitmorefrustrationthanI’drealized.Itallsortofspilledout.
“Hey,yougotanyplanstonight?”heasksashegetstohisfeet.
Ihesitate.IshouldcheckwithPreston,seeifhe’sdoinganythingwiththeguystonight.
Instead,Isay,“No.”
BecausewhereCooper’sconcerned,mybetterjudgmenthasgonetohell.
Hisgazerakesovermeinawaythatelicitsahotshiver.“Good.I’mtakingyouout.”CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
COOPER
“I’vealwayswantedtodooneofthese,”Macsays,grabbingmyarmandtuggingmetowardsomespinningmonstrosityahundredfeetintheair.
Isthischickserious?Irollmyeyesather.“IfIwantedtogetdizzyandchokeonmyownvomit,Icoulddothatontheground.”
Shespinsonme,eyeswideandshininginthemulticoloredlights.“You’renotchicken,areyou,Hartley?”
“Never,”Isay,becausetheinabilitytobackdownfromachallengeisoneofmypersonalitydefects.
“Thenputyourmoneywhereyourmouthis,chickenman.”
“You’regonnaregretthat.”Iwarn,gesturingforhertoleadtheway.
TheannualboardwalkfestivalisahighlightofthefallseasoninAvalonBay.It’ssupposedtocommemoratethefoundingofthetownorsomething,butreally,it’sbecomeanexcusetothrowaparty.Localrestaurantsbringouttheirfoodtrucksandvendorstands,barsslingsignaturecocktailsfromcarts,andmidwaygamesandcarnivalridescramtheboardwalk.
EvanandIusedtosmokeabowlwithourfriends,getsmashed,andjumpfromoneridetothenexttoseewholosttheirlunchfirst.Lastcoupleofyears,though,Iguesswe’vegottentiredofit.
Forsomereason,IfeelcompelledtobetheonetointroduceMactothefestival.
Theboardwalkiscrowded.CarnivaljinglescompetewithlivebandsplayingatthreestagesspreadoutthroughOldTown.Thearomasofcorndogsandcottoncandy,funnelcakesandturkeylegs,waftonthebreeze.AftertheWaveFlingerandMoonShot,wegodownthefifty-footAvalancheslideandtackletheGravityWell.Alltheway,Macisskipping
“Whatnext?”sheasksaswe’rerecoveringfromherlatestrideselection.Iwouldn’tcallmyselfawimp,butthedaredevilbesidemeisdefinitelygivingmearunformymoney.
“Canwedosomethingchill?”Igrumble.“Like,givemefivesecondstoreadjusttogravity.”
Shegrins.“Somethingchill?Gee,Grandpa,likewhat?ShouldwesitquietlyontheFerriswheelorboardthatslowlittletrainthatgoesthroughtheTunnelofLove?”
“Ifyou’regoingintotheTunnelofLovewithyourgrandpa,thenyou’vegotawholenewsetofproblemsweneedtotalkabout.”
Sheflipsuphermiddlefinger.“Howaboutacottoncandybreak,then?”
“Sure.”Asweambletowardoneoftheconcessionstands,Ispeakinaconversationaltone.“IgotaBJinthattunnelonce,youknow.”
Ratherthanlookdisgusted,hergreeneyestwinklewithdelight.“Really?Tellmeeverything.”
Westandinlinebehindawomanwho’stryingtowranglethreekidsundertheageoffive.They’relikealitterofpuppies,unabletostaystill,bouncingaroundfromthesugarhighsthey’reundoubtedlyon.
IdragmytongueovermybottomlipandwinkatMac.“I’lltellyoulater.Inprivate.”
“Tease.”
Wereachthecounter,whereIbuyustwobagsofcottoncandy.Maceagerlysnatchesone,peelsoffahuge,fluffypiece,andshovesthepinkflossintohermouth.
“Soooogood.”Herwordsaregarbledthankstohercompletelyfullmouth.
X-ratedimagesburnaholeinmybrainasIwatchhersuckandslurponthesugarytreat.
Mydickthickensagainstmyzipper,makingitdifficulttoconcentrateonwhatshe’sbabblingabout.
“Didyouknowthatcottoncandywasinventedbyadentist?”
Iblinkbacktoreality.“Seriously?Talkaboutaproactivewaytoensureacustomerbase.”
“Genius,”sheagrees.
Ireachintothebagandpinchoffapiece.Thecottoncandymeltsthemomentittouchesmytongue,thesweetflavorinjectingarushofnostalgiadirectlyintomyblood.Ifeellikealittlekidagain.Backwhenmyparentswerebotharoundandstillsomewhatinlove.They’dbringmeandEvantotheboardwalk,stuffusfullofjunkfoodandsugar,andletusgowild.We’ddrivehomelaughingandgiddyandfeelinglikearealfamily.
BythetimeEvanandIturnedsix,theirrelationshipturnedcombative.Dadstarteddrinkingmore.Momlookedforattentionandvalidationfromothermen.Theyseparated,andEvanandIbecameafterthoughtstoboozeandsex.
“No,”Macorders.
Iblinkagain.“Nowhat?”
“Youhavethatlookonyourface.You’rebrooding.”
“I’mnotbrooding.”
“Yes,youare.Yourfaceistotallysaying,I’mlostinmybroodythoughtsbecauseI’mSUCHatorturedbadboy.”Shegivesmeasternlook.“Snapoutofit,Hartley.Wewerediscussingsomeprettyinsightfulstuff.”
“Weweretalkingaboutcottoncandy.”Mytoneisdry.
“So?Thatcanbeinsightful.”Sheraisesoneeyebrow,smug.“Didyouknowscientistsaretryingtousecottoncandytocreateartificialbloodvessels?”
“Thatsoundslikepureandtotalhorseshit,”Isaycheerfully.
“It’snot.Ireadaboutitonce,”sheinsists.“Cottoncandyfibersare,like,supersmall.They’rethesamesizeasourbloodvessels.Idon’tremembertheexactprocess,butthebasicpremiseis—cottoncandyequalsmedicalbreakthrough.”
“Junkscience.”
“Iswear.”
“Citeyoursources.”
“Somemagazine.”
“Ohhhh,ofcourse!Somemagazine—themostreputableofpublications.”
Sheglaresatme.“Whycan’tyoujustacceptI’mright?”
“Whycan’tyouacceptyoumightbewrong?”
“I’mneverwrong.”
Istartlaughing,whichcauseshertoglowerharderatme.“I’mconvincedyouarguejustforthesakeofarguing,”Iinformher.
“Idonot.”
Ilaughharder.“See!You’resodamnstubborn.”
“Lies!”
Atallblondeholdinghandswithasmallboyfrownsasshepassesby.Mac’sexclamationhasbroughtaflickerofconcerntothewoman’seyes.
“It’sokay,”Macassuresher.“We’rebestfriends.”
“We’rebitterrivals,”Icorrect.“She’salwaysyellingatme,ma’am.Please,helpmeoutofthistoxicrelationship.”
Thewomangivesusoneofthoseyou’reincorrigiblelooksanyoneoverfortysportswhenthey’redealingwithimmaturechildren.Joke’sonher.We’rebothinourtwenties.
Wecontinuedowntheboardwalk,stoppingtowatchsomesuckerboyfriendhurldartsatawallofballoonstotrytowinamassivestuffedanimalforhisgirl.Fortybuckslater,hestillhasn’tsecuredtheprizedpanda,andthegirlfriendisnowspendingmoretimecheckingmeoutthancheeringhimon.
“Canyoubelievethatchick?”Macsayswhenwewalkoff.“Iswearshewaspicturingyounakedinhermindwhileherpoorboyfriendwasbleedingmoneyforher.”
“Jealous?”Iflashagrin.
“Nope.Justimpressed.You’rehotstuff,Hartley.Idon’tthinkwe’vepassedasinglegirltonightwhohasn’tstoppedtodrooloveryou.”
“WhatcanIsay?Womenlikeme.”I’mnottryingtobearrogant.It’sjustafact.MytwinandIaregood-looking,andgood-lookingguysarepopularwiththeladies.Anyonewhosaysotherwiseisdamnna?ve.Whenitcomestoourbasicanimalinstincts,whowe’resexuallydrawnto,appearancematters.
“Whydon’tyouhaveagirlfriend?”Macasks.
“Don’twantone.”
“Ah,Igetit.Commitmentphobe.”
“Nah.”Ishrug.“I’mjustnotinthemarketforonerightnow.Myprioritiesareelsewhere.”
“Interesting.”
Oureyeslockforafleeting,heatedmoment.I’msecondsawayfromreexaminingtheaforementionedprioritieswhenMacvisiblyswallowsandchangesthesubject.
“Alright,timeforanotherride,”sheannounces.“We’vebeendilly-dallyinglongenough.”
“Pleasegoeasyonme,”Ibeg.
Shesimplysnortsinresponseanddashesoffinsearchofournextdeath-defyingadventure.
Istareafterherinamusement.Andatouchofbewilderment.Thisgirlissomethingelse.NotatallliketheotherboredclonesatGarnet.Shedoesn’tcarehowshelooks—hairwild,makeupsweatingoff.She’sspontaneousandfree,whichmakesitthatmuchmoreconfoundingwhyshestayswiththatjackassKincaid.Whatthehelldoesthatguyhavethatmakeshimsodamngreat?
“Explainsomethingtome,”Isay,asweapproachsomeenormousbungeethingthatslingshotsasmall,two-personbasketofscreamingvictimsnearlytwohundredfeetintheair.
“Ifthisisyoutryingtostall,itwon’twork.”Shemarchesrightuptotherideattendantandhandshimourtickets.
“Yourboyfriend,”Istart,steppingaroundhertogetintothebasketfirst.
Theattendantstrapsmeinandstartshisspielthatamountsto:Keepyourhandsandfeetinsidethevehicle,andifthiskillsyou,we’renotliable.
Forthefirsttimetonight,Maclooksnervousassheslidesinbesideme.“Whatabouthim?”
Ichoosemywordscarefully.“Imean,Ihearthings.Noneofthemgood.Andforagirlwhoinsistsshedoesn’twanttobehermommyanddaddy’slittleprincessprotégé,I’mwonderingwhyyouwoulddotheexpectedthingandsettleforanotherGarnetclone.”
Thethickbundleofcords,whichwillinamomentlaunchusintothenightsky,risesuptheride’sarmsthatformanobtuseangleaboveus.
“That’snotreallyanyofyourbusiness.”Herexpressionturnsflat,hertoneadversarial.I’mtouchinganerve
“Comeon,ifyoutwohavecrazy-goodsexorsomething,justsayso.ThatIunderstand.Getyours,youknow?I’drespectit.”
Shelooksstraightahead,asifthere’sanychanceofherignoringmeinthisfour-foot-widetincan.“I’mnothavingthisconversationwithyou.”
“Iknowit’snotforthemoney,”Isay.“Andthefactthatyounevertalkabouthimtellsmeyourheart’snotinit.”
“You’rewayoff.”Macsnapshergazetome,liftingadefiantchin.There’sallsortsoffightinhernow.“Honestly,I’membarrassedforyou.”
“Oh,isthatright,princess?”Ican’thelpmyself.Gettingariseoutofherkindofmakesmehorny.“When’sthelasttimeyoutouchedyourselfthinkingabouthim?”
“Fuckoff.”Hercheeksturnred.Icanseeherbitingtheinsideofhercheekassherollshereyes.
“TellmeI’mwrong.Tellmehegetsyouhotandbotheredjustwalkingintoaroom.”
Herpulseisvisiblythrumminginherneck.Macadjustsinherseat,crossingherankles.Ashergazeflickstomine,shelicksherlipsandIknowshe’sthinkingthesamethingIam.
“Therearemoreimportantthingsthanchemistry,”shesays,andIheartheuncertaintyinhervoice.
“Ibetyou’vebeentellingyourselfthatforalongtime.”Islantmyhead.“Butmaybeyou’renotassureofthatasyouusedtobe.”
“Andwhy’sthat?”
“Okay,”theattendantannounces,“hangon.Countingdownfromten.Ready?”
Oh,fuckit.
“I’mcallinginyourmarker,”Itellher.
“Mywhat?”
“Eight.Seven.”Theattendantcountsdown.
“Thebetwemade,remember?Thenightwemet?Well,Iwon,andIknowwhatIwantasrepayment.”
“Six.Five.”
“Cooper…”
“Four.Three.”
“Kissme,”Isayroughly.“Ortellmeyoustilldon’twantme.”
“Two.”
“What’sitgonnabe,Mackenzie?”
“One.”CHAPTERFOURTEEN
COOPER
We’repropelledintotheair,andforseveralheart-stopping,stomach-twistingmoments,we’resortoffrozenintime.Pinnedbytheforceoftherideasthegrounddisappearsbeneathus.Abrief,spectacularmomentofweightlessnessliftsusfromourseatsandthenthetensionofthecordsreleasesslightlyandwebounce,once,twice,pastthehighestpoint.Iturnmyheadandthat’swhenMac’slipsfindmine.
It’slikeanelectricshock,asizzleofheatfromherlipsstraightdowntomygroin.
Shegrabsme,findingfistfulsofmyhair,kissingmewildly.Shetasteslikesugarandendlesssummernights.I’mhungryforbothasmytongueslicksoverhersandwesoarsohighitfeelslikewemightnevercomedown.
Hergaspheatsmylips.
Idrivethekissdeeper,swallowinghersoftmoan.
Thebasketbouncesagain,slowlydescendingonourreturntoearth.Wepartonlytosuckinastartledbreath,andIhavetorememberwherewearetostopmyselffromtearingherclothesoff.I’mhardandhungry.
“Weshouldn’thavedonethat.”Macadjuststhestrapsofhertanktopandwipesthesmearedlipstickfromherlips.
“I’mnotsorry,”Itellher.BecauseI’mnot.I’vewantedtodothatforweeks.Andit’sallonthetablenow.Wesetfiretothepretense,andthere’snowheretogobutforward.
She’ssilentwhenweleavetheride.MaybeIcameontoostrong.Scaredheraway.
WhenIrealizeshe’sleadingustowardtheexit,Iswallowasigh.
Yeah.
She’sdefinitelyrunningscared.
“I’lltakeyouhome,ifyouwant,”Ioffer,followinghertowardwhereweparkedthetruck.
“IwanttosaygoodnighttoDaisyfirst.”
Idon’tbothertocorrectherthistime.Guessshewonthatbattle.
“I’llcatchacabfromyourplace,”sheadds.
Theentireridetomyhouse,I’mconvincedI’mnevergoingtoseeheragainandI’vescrewedthiswholeplan.Myheadisreeling,tryingtothinkofsomethingtosay,somewaytomitigatethefallout.AllIcomeupwithisadozenwaysIwanttoscrewherbrainsout.Whichisn’thelping.
“Hegroundsme.”
Herquietstatementhasmeglancingoverinsurprise.“What?”
“Preston.TherearemanyreasonsI’mwithhim,butthat’sabigone.Hekeepsmegrounded.”Fromthecornerofmyeye,Iseeshe’swringingherhands.“Remindsmetobemorerestrained.”
“Whydoyouneedtobe?”Myvoiceisgruff.
“Forone,becausemydadisinthepubliceye.”
“So?Yourfathermadethatchoice.Youdon’thavetoturnyourselfintoaplasticpersonbecauseofhislifedecisions.”Ifrownather.“Andyoudon’thavetoputupwithaboyfriendwhokeepsyouonaleash.”
Hereyesflash.“I’mnotonaleash.”
“Whatdoyouthink‘restrained’means?”Isaysarcastically.
“Isaidheremindsmetorestrainmyself.He’snottheonedoingtherestraining.Whatever.Youdon’tgetit.”Lipsflattening,shefixeshergazeoutthepassengerwindow.
“You’reright,Idon’tgetit.Ijustspentthepastcouplehourswatchingyouseekouteverywildrideatthatfestival.Yougetoffonthethrill.Yougetoffonlife.There’sfireinyou,Mac.”
“Fire,”sheechoesdubiously.
“Hellyes.Fire.Andyouchoosetobewithsomeonewhoputsoutthefire?Screwthat.Youneedamantostokeit.”
“And,what,thatmanisyou?”Asharpedgetoherquestion.
“Didn’tsaythat.Justsayingyourcurrentpickisseriouslylacking.”
Thehouseisdarkwhenwepullup.Evansaidhewasgettingtogetherwithourfriends,butmaybetheyhitupthefestivalafterall.AnothersilencefallsoverusasMacandIwalkinside.
Iflickthelightswitch.“Look,”Istart.“Idon’tregretthekiss—webothwantedit,andyouknowthat.Butifthisfriendshipthingisgonnabeweirdforyounow…”
Iglancebacktoseeherpressedagainstthedoor,lookinginsanelyedible.Shedoesn’tspeak,justtugsthefrontofmyshirttodrawmetoher.BeforeIcanblink,sherisesonhertoestokissme.
“Fuck,”Igaspagainsthergreedymouth.
Inresponse,sheliftsherlegaroundmyhipandbitesmylip.
MybrainstuttersforasecondbeforeIwakeupandgowithit.Igrabherthigh,pressingmyselfbetweenherlegsasIkissherdeeper.Herfingersfindtheirwayundermyshirt.
“God,allthesemuscles.Ican’teven.”Herpalmstraveltomychest,stroking,thenaroundtomyback,nailsgentlyscratchingdownmyspine.
Hereagertouchsendsallthebloodinmybodyrushingtomygroin.I’mgone.Hard.Panting.IwanthersobadlyIcanhardlybreathe.
Adetailedfantasyofbendingherovermybedplaysbehindmyclenchedeyelids.I’mabouttopickherupandthrowherovermyshoulderwhenIheartheslidingglassdoorshutloudlyinthekitchen.
Ourmouthsbreakapart.
“Oh,sorry,didn’tmeantointerrupt.”Heidistandsinthekitchendoorway,watchinguswithasarcasticsmile.“Didn’tknowyouwereback.”
I’mstillbreathinghard,tryingtofindmyvoice.
Shewalkstothefridgefortwohandfulsofbeers.“Please,asyouwere.Don’tletmeinterrupt.”
Heidiwinksatmebeforeleavingthewayshecame.
Great.
“Ishouldgo.”ImmediatelyMacisdisentanglingherselffromme,puttingdistancebetweenus.Thedoghasn’tcomerunning,whichmeansEvanhasherdownatthebeach,withHeidiandtherestofthegang.
“That’smyfriendHeidi,”Ihurrytoexplain,notwantingMactoleave.“I’msorryaboutthat.Ididn’tknowanyonewashere.”
“It’sallgood.Ihavetogo.”
“Stay.They’reprobablyalldownatthebeach.I’llgetDaisyforyou.”
“No,it’sfine.I’mgoingtocallacab.”
“I’lldriveyou,”Icounter.
She’soutthedoor,slinkingawaybeforeIcanstopher.
Damnit.“Atleastletmewaitwithyou.”
Sheacquiescestothatmuch,butthemoment’spassed.Onceagainthere’samassivecraterbetweenusaswewaitinsilence,andIgetnothingmorethanawavegoodnightasshe’spullingaway
Idragahandthroughmyhairandtrudgeintothehouse.Fuckinghell.Onestepforward,twostepsback.
Storyofmylife.
Inthekitchen,Igrababeerformyself,twistoffthecap,andtakealongswigbeforesteppingoutontothedeck.WhereHeidiisstanding.Herarmsarefreeofbottles,soshemusthavedeliveredthemtothebeachandcomebacktowaitforme.
“Hey,”Isayroughly.
“Hey.”Sheleansagainsttherailing,onehandplayingwiththefrayedendsofherdenimskirt.“So.You’vegotthecloneonthehook.”
“Iguess.”Iswallowahastysipofbeer.Truthbetold,theplan,thebet,therules…theywerethelastthingonmymindbackthere.MyentireworldhadbeenreducedtoMackenzieandhowgoodshefeltpressedupagainstme.
“Youguess?Thechickwaslookingatyouwithstarsinhereyes.She’sintoyou.”
Ratherthancomment,Ipivotbysaying,“Speakingofpeoplebeingintootherpeople—JayWestwasaskingaboutyou.”
Shenarrowshereyes.“When?”
“Afewdaysago.Saidhehungoutwithyouatabarorsomething.”
“Oh,yeah.WeranintohimandKellanatJoe’s.”
Iflickuponeeyebrow.“He’sgonnaaskyouout.”
Shedoesn’tsayanything.Justwatchesmewarily.
“Willyouturnhimdown?”
“ShouldI?”
Asighlodgesitselfinmythroat.Iknowshewantsmetostakemyclaim,throwmyselfatherfeet,andbeghernottogooutwithanyonebutme.ButI’mnotgoingtodothat.ItoldherIdidn’twantarelationshipwhenwefirsthookedup.Ihopeditwouldonlybeaone-nightthing,eachofusscratchinganitch,andthenwe’dgobacktobeingfriends.ButIwasna?ve.Onenightledtoafewmore,andnowourfriendshipismorestrainedthanever.
“Dowhateveryouwant,Heidi,”Ifinallysay.
“Gotit.Thanksfortheadvice,Coop.”Sarcasmdripsfromeveryword.Then,withafrustratedshakeofherhead,shestompsdownthesteps.
Ireleasethebreathtrappedinmylungs.Chugtherestofmybeer.ThetasteofMackenziestilllingersonmytongue.Sugarandsex,anaddictivecombo.Istepinsidetograbanotherbottle,hopingthealcoholmighthelperasetheflavorofthewomanI’machingtokissagain.
Ijoineveryoneonthebeach.I’mrelieved—andthenashamedofmyrelief—whenIspotHeidiabouttenyardsawayatthewater’sedge,textingonherphone.MaybereachingouttoJay?ButIdoubtit.She’sneverbeenattractedtotheniceones.Justthejerkslikeme.
Aroundthefire,StephandAlanaareraggingEvanaboutsomegirlhehookedupwithyesterday,aftergettingintoafightwithherboyfriend.FirstI’mhearingofeither,butEvan’snotparticularlyforthcomingwhenitcomestohistransgressions.FromwhatIgather,hethrewdownwithsomeGarnetcloneswhorefusedtopayupafterheschooledthematthepoolhall.
“Shecameintonightallmoon-eyed,askingwhereshecouldtrackyoudown,”Alanaistellinghim.
Hepales.“Youdidn’tgivehermynumber,didyou?”
AlanaletshimsweatforafewsecondsbeforesheandStephbreakoutingrins.“’Coursenot.Thatwouldgoagainstthefriendcode.”
“Speakingofthefriendcode,doesitsayanythingaboutsubjectingyourfriendstoafront-rowseattoyourslobberymake-outsession?”Stephpipesup,gesturingtotheculpritinquestion.
Atthefaredgeofthefirepit,ourfriendTateissprawledononeofouroldloungechairswithacurvydark-hairedchickdrapedoverhimlikeablanket.He’sgotahandthrustinherhairandhistongueinhermouth,whilesherubsherselfagainsthimlikeacatinheat.They’reoblivioustoourpresence
“Shameless,”Evanshoutsatthecouplewithfeignedoutrage.Thenhegrins,becausemybrother’sanexhibitionisthimself.
Tategiveshisgirl’sbottomaplayfulsmackandtheystumbletotheirfeet,cheeksflushedandlipsswollen.“Coop,”hedrawls.“MindifweheadinsideandwatchsomeTV?”
Irollmyeyes.“Sure.Butthere’snoTVinmyroom,soI’dbetternotfindyouinthere.”Ilovemyfriends,butIdon’tneedthembangingonmybed.Ijustchangedthesheetsthismorningtoo.
AfterTateandthebrunettedisappear,AlanaandStephbendtheirheadscloseandstartwhisperingtoeachother.
“Sharewiththegroup,”Evanmocks,waggingafingeratthegirls.
Withalookofevilglee,StephjerksherthumbtowardAlanaandsays,“ThisbadgirlsleptwithTatelastweekend.”
Iliftabrow.“Yeah?”
AnunimpressedEvanshrugs.“YoufinallytookarideontheTatemobile,huh?Surprisedittookyousolong.”
Mybrothermakesagoodpoint.FromthemomentTate’sfamilymovedtotheBaywhenwewereinjuniorhigh,allthelocalgirlswentcrazyforhim.OnecockysmilefromTateandthey’rehooked
Alana’sexpressionrevealsnotanounceofshameorregretassheoffersherownshrug.“SortofwishIhaddoneitsooner.Mangivesgooddick.Greatkissertoo.”
“He’snotbad,”Evanagrees,andIcan’thelpmyself—Iburstoutlaughing.
“Shit,”Iwheeze.“Ialwaysforgetaboutthatnightyouguysmadeout.”
Herollshiseyes.“Itwasjustakiss.”
“Dude,itlastedlikethreefullminutes.”MymindisnowfloodedwiththevividimagesofEvanandTatesuckingeachother’sfacesoffatoneofAlana’shousepartieswhenweweresixteen.Thegirlscheeringthemon,theguyscatcalling.Thatwasaweirdnight.
“InEv’sdefense,makingoutwithTatewastheonlywaytheyweregonnaseemeandGenevievetakeourtopsoff—”Alanastopsabruptly.
Well,hell.Sheactuallydidit.UtteredGenevieve’sname,theVoldemortofourgroup.Ihavetoassumethegirlsarestillintouch.Steph,Alana,Heidi,andGenwerethefiercefoursome.
EvanandIhaveahabitofreadingeachother’sminds,butwhereasIpossessatleastsomeself-restraint,hedoesn’tknowthemeaningofit.Sohesays,“Youguysstilltalktoher?”
Alanahesitates.
Stephopenshermouth,onlytobeinterruptedbyHeidi’sreappearance.
“What’sgoingon?”sheasks,carefullyglancingaroundthegroup.Thenshenods.“Oh.Coopertoldyou.”
Genevieveisallbutforgottenaseveryone’sgazesswiveltome.“Tolduswhat?”Stephdemands.
Ishrug.So,naturally,Heididoesn’twasteasecondfillingtheminonfindingmeandMackenziewrappedupatthefrontdoor.
“Gottaadmit,Coop,Ididn’tthinkyou’dgetthisfar,”Alanasays,liftingabeerinsalute.“I’mimpressed.”
“I’vechangedmymind,bytheway.”Heidieyesmethroughtheflames.“I’mtotallyonboardwiththisplan.Icannotwaittoseethelookonthatgirl’sfacewhensherealizeswhatyou’vedone.”
“Howareyougonnadoit?”Stephasksexcitedly.
Thisisthemostfunthesegirlshavehadsincetheywenthamonsomeclone’scarafterheranoffwithAlana’sbikinitopwhileshewassunbathingonthebeach.
“Yeah,wehavetotalkendgame,”Evansays.“It’dbeashametowasteanopportunity.”
“Yes,”Heidiagrees.“YouhavetogetherandKincaidinthesameplace,lethimseeyoutwotogether,andthendumpherinpublic.Makeitdramatic.”Heidiisinamoodtonight.IknowI’mtoblameforit,butI’mnotsurehowtofixthingsbetweenus.“Maybewecanthrowaparty.”
Stephsplashesbeeronthefireinhereagerness.“Nah,tootame.Hastobeontheirturf.It’snofununlessKincaidishumiliatedinfrontofhisownkind.”
“Iknowwherewecangetacouplebucketsofpig’sblood,”Alanasays,whichgetstherestofthemdoubledoverlaughing.
Ilaughwiththem,playingalong.Becauseafewweeksago,Iwouldn’thavegivenadamnwhathappenedtotherandomclonegirlfriendofarichpunkwhocrossedme.
ButnowI’vegottentoknowMacand…Igenuinelylikeher.Shedoesn’tdeservetheirscornjustbecauseshe’sconnectedtoajackasslikeKincaid.Andafterthatkiss,Iknowthere’ssomethingrealbetweenus,evenifshe’safraidofit.Ican’ttelltheseguysI’mhavingsecondthoughts,though.They’dtearmyassanewone.
Nowthatthey’vegottenawhiffofbloodinthewater,theywon’tbesatisfieduntilthey’vetastedflesh.CHAPTERFIFTEEN
MACKENZIE
“Threedaysinarow,thisboyletsthedoorslaminmyfaceatthesmoothieplace.Notoncedoesheapologize.I’mstartin’tothinkhe’sdoin’itonpurpose.I’mold-fashioned,okay?Ivaluemanners.Openadoorforalady,willya?Sothefourthday,Iseehimcomin’.I’mreadyforhim.I’minsideandgrabthedoorbeforehecanopenit.Iflickthelock.ThiswholesmoothiejointisheldcaptivebecauseIain’tlettingthisguyin.Overmydeadbody.”
It’sMondaymorning,andBonnieandIarebothdraggingass.Sheshoutsfromthebathroom,puttingonmakeup,asImakeuscoffeeinthekitchenette.I’monlyhalfpayingattentionandmanagetospillmilkonmyshirt.
“Howlongdidthatgoon?”IcallfrommyroomwhileIchangeshirts.I’msupposedtomeetPrestonforlunchathishouselater,soIhavetomakesuremyoutfitisappropriate.Notforhim,butforhismother.Shelikesmefine—Ithink?—butshe’svery…particular.AtanktopandjeansarenotgoingtocutitwithCoralineKincaid.
“Longenoughthatthemanagerjumpsindemandin’Iletpeopleout.AndI’mall,I’dloveto—assoonasthisguyapologizesorleaves.Well,eventuallyhemustrealizeI’mnotplayin’around,sohetakesoff.Nextday,helocksmeoutofthesandwichshopuntilIagreetogoonadatewithhim.Sohe’spickin’meupFridaynight.”
“That’sgreat,”Ishout,onlytoturnandrealizeBonnieisstandingrightbehindmewithourcoffeeintwotravelmugs.“Sorry.”
“Youseemedgy.”Shestaresatme.“Youhaveasecret.”
“No,Idon’t.”
Hereyesburstintowide,bluesaucers.“Youkissedaboy.”
Witch.
“Whoishe?”shedemands.
There’snousedenyingit.I’mentirelyconvincedofBonnie’sotherworldlypowers.She’llberatemeuntilIgiveherwhatshewants.
“Sometownie,”Isay.Technically,it’strue.Shedoesn’tneedtoknowthetownieinquestionisCooper.
Ugh.Justthethoughtofhisnamequickensmyheartrate.
WhatintheworldhaveIdone?Thekissatthefestival?Icanblamethatoneonthesugarhigh.Butthefull-onmake-outgropesessionathishouseafterward?
There’snoexcuse.
I’mahorribleperson.Ahorrible,selfish,awfulgirlfriendwhodoesn’tdeserveastand-upguylikePreston.
ThereisabsolutelynocomingbackfromwhatIdidonFridaynight.Iknowthis.Andyetdespitethewhirlpoolofguiltcurrentlyfoaminginmystomach,onestupidlittlebutterflycontinuestoflutterinsideme,flappingaroundandchurningupmemoriesofCooper’shungrylipsandheatedgaze.
Histongueinmymouth.
Myfingersskimmingthedefinedmusclesofhisunbelievablyrippedchest.
Andit’snotonlythephysicalstuffthatlingersinmymind.It’severythingthatcamebeforeit.Talkingaboutourfamiliesinhisworkshop,runningaroundtheboardwalklikeapairofrowdykids.WhenI’mwithhim,Idon’tneedtoputonafront.Idon’thavetopretendtobetheproper,well-behavedladyI’mexpectedtobe.IfeellikeI’mmytrueselfwhenI’maroundCooper.Andthat…scaresme.
“That’sit?”Bonnie’svoicejerksmefrommyunsettlingthoughts.“Nuh-uh,Idon’tthinkso.Irequiremoredetails.”
Ishrugawkwardly.“There’snotmuchelsetosay.Itjustsortofhappened.”
“Isitgoingtojustsortofhappenagain?”Herexpressiontellsmeshe’shopingtheanswermightbeyes.
“No.Definitelynot.Ifeelterrible.Preston—”
“Doesn’tneedtoknow,”Bonniefinishesforme.“Nothin’goodwillcomeoftellinghim.Ifitwasamistake,andevenifitwasn’t—agirlhasarighttohersecrets.Trustme.”
Iknowshemeanswell,butI’vealreadykepttoomuchfromhim.ThiswholethingwithCooperhasgonetoofar.I’mnotaliar,andInever,everthoughtmyselfcapableofkissingsomeoneotherthanmyboyfriend.It’sahumblingexperience,discoveringyou’renotasmorallyvirtuousasyouoncethought.
Bonnie’swrong.PrestonneedstoknowwhatI’vedonetous.
Therightthingtodonowistellthetruthandaccepttheconsequences.
Laterthatafternoon,Prespicksmeupfromclassforlunch.Allday,IpracticedwhatIwouldsay.HowIwouldtellhim.Butwhenhekissesmycheekandwrapshisarmaroundmywaist,Ilosemynerveandkeepmymouthshut.
“Youlookgreat,”hesays,noddinginapproval.
Relieffluttersthroughme.ThankGod.IwentthroughthreeoutfitsbeforeIdecidedonasilkblouseandnavypixiechinos.Myownmotherdoesn’tgivemethismuchanxiety.
“Freddyispreparinglambshank,”Prestonadds.“Hopeyou’rehungry.”
“Famished,”Ilie.
HesteershisPorscheintotheparkinglotofGarnet’sfootballfacilityandpullsintoaspot.Likethegentlemanheis,hehopsoutoftheconvertibleandrunsovertoopenmydoor.Thenheextendsahand,Itakeit,andwewalktowardPreston’shelicopter.
Yup.Hishelicopter.
Mostdays,it’showhecommutestoschool.Hisfamilyhadthehelipadinstalledbehindthefootballstadiumhisfreshmanyear.It’sabitridiculous,evenforourcircleofsociety,andthesightofthegleaming,whiteaircraftmakesmewonderwhatCooperwouldsayifhesaw—
No.Nope.Notgoingthere.Today,Icomeclean.
Itisn’tlongbeforewe’reflyinginovertheKincaidestate,amassivepieceofgatedpropertyonthecoast.Endlesslawnsandoaktreesstretchoutforacres,thepropertydividedfromtheoceanbyanexpansivewhitemansion.There’sapool,tenniscourts,basketballcourt,andflowergarden.Allmaintainedbyatleastadozenemployeesatanygiventime.
Onthebackpatio,hismothergreetsus.Asalways,she’simpeccablydressed.Head-to-toePrada.I’mnotsurewhyshebothers,seeingashowmostdaysshehaslittlereasontoleavethehouse.Likemymom,Coralinedoesn’tworkandemploysapersonalstaffthathandleseveryaspectofthehomeandheraffairs.
“Hey,Mom.”Prestonleansintokisshismother’scheek.
“Hi,darling.”Smiling,sheshiftshergazetome.“Mackenzie,honey.”Shehugsme,butwiththelighttouchofsomeonewhomightshatterifyousqueezedtoohard.She’saslightwoman.Fragile,notfrail.Justdon’tmakeherangry.“Youlooklovely.”
“Thankyou,Mrs.Kincaid.Yournewrosesaroundthegazeboaregorgeous.”
Ilearnedlongagothattheeasiestwaytokeepherhappyistofindsomethingnewontheestatetocomplimentoneveryvisit.Otherwise,shespendstheentiretimecommentingonmysplitendsorthesizeofmypores
“Oh,thankyou,honey.Raúlplantedthemjustthisweek.Hereallyisanartist.”
“Areyoujoiningusforlunch?”Iinquire.Pleasesayno,pleasesayno—
“I’mafraidnot.I’mmeetingwithmyarchitectsoon.He’llbehereanyminute.DidPrestontellyouwe’rebuildinganewpoolhouse?”
“No,hedidn’t.Howexciting.”Really,theonlyexcitingthingaboutanyofthisisthatshe’snothavinglunchwithus.
Andit’sagoodthingshedoesn’t,becauselunchendsupbeinghellaawkward.NotthatPrestonnotices.Intheformaldiningroomamongthelambshankandfinechina,hegoesonaboutsomeprofessorheinsistshasitoutforhim,whileIpickatmyfoodandworkupthenervetoconfessmysins.
“Ofcourse,Icouldgotothedeanandhavethewholemattersortedout.He’dbeoutofajob.ThenIthought,well,where’sthefuninthat,right?I’llcomeupwithsomethingmorecreative.That’sthethingwiththosepeople.Yougivethemalittlerespect,andsuddenlytheyforgettheirplace.It’sourjobtoremindthem.Anotherrefill,Martha,”hesaystothemaid.“Thankyou.”
Finally,Ican’tstandthepitinmystomachanylonger.
“Ihavesomethingtotellyou,”Iblurtout.
HesetsdownhisforkandpusheshisplateawayforMartha.“Youokay?”
No.Notevenalittle.Itisn’tuntilrightnowthatIrealizeIdocareaboutPreston.Notonlybecausewe’vebeentogethersolong.Notbecauseofsomesenseofloyalty.
Coopermightdrawoutmy“trueself,”whateverthehellthatevenmeans,butPrestondoesexactlywhatItoldCoopertheothernight:Hekeepsmegrounded.He’sastablepresenceinmylife.Heknowsthisworld,knowshowtohandleourparents,whichisimportantinmaintainingoursanity.Aroundhim,I’mnotaballofanxietyanddread.
AndwhatI’vedonetohimisn’tfair.
IwaituntilMarthaleavesthediningroombeforereleasingashakybreath.
Nowornever.
“Ikissedsomeone.Aguy.”
Hewaits,watchingme,asifImightsaymore.
Ishould.Iwill.Thisseemedthemostexpedientwaytobegin.ExceptnowI’mregrettingnotwaitinguntilweweresomewheremoreprivate.Ifhismotherdecidestowalkinrightnow,Imightnotmakeitofftheestatealive.
“Isthatall?”Prestonprompts.
“No.Imean,yeah.Weonlykissed,ifthat’swhatyoumean.”Ibitemylip.Hard.“ButIcheatedonyou.”
Hegetsupfromhisseatatthefarendofthetableandcomestositbesideme.“DoIknowhim?”
“No.SomelocalImetatabarwhenIwasoutwithBonnie.Itwasastupidthingtodo.WeweredrinkingandIwasn’tthinkingand…”AndIcan’thelpmyselffromsofteningtheblowwithanotherlie.Iwasgoingtotellhim.Everything.Now,lookinginhiseyes,Ican’thurthimthatway.HeistakingitbetterthanIexpected,though.“I’msosorry,Pres.Youdon’tdeservethis.IwaswrongandIhavenoexcuse.”
“Babe,”hesays,squeezingmyhand.Hesmiles,almostamused.“I’mnotmad.”
Iblink.“You’renot?”
“Ofcoursenot.Soyouhadtoomuchtodrinkandkissedatownie.Welcometoyourfreshmanyearofcollege.Guessyoulearnedalessonabouthandlingyourliquor.”
Chuckling,hekissesthetopofmyhead,thenoffershishandtohelpmeupfromthetable.
“Howareyoutakingthissowell?”I’mabsolutelydumbfounded.OfallthewaysIthoughthemightreact,thiswasn’toneofthem.
Heleadsmeouttothebackverandatositontheporchswing,wherethemaidhasalreadyputouttwoglassesoficedtea.“Simple.Icanseethebigpicture.YouandIhaveafuturetogether,Mackenzie.I’mnotinterestedinthrowingthatawayoversomeminorindiscretion.Areyou?”
“Definitelynot.”ButIthoughtthere’dbesomegrovelinginvolved,attheveryleast.
“I’mgladyoutoldmethetruth.I’mnotthrilledaboutwhathappened,butIunderstand,andIforgiveyou.Waterunderthebridge.”Hehandsmeanicedtea.“Nottoomuchsugar,justthewayyoulikeit.”
Okay,then.
Fortherestoftheafternoon,IexpectPrestontopullaway.Tobecold,unhappy,eventhoughheinsistedhewasfine.
Butthatisn’tthecaseatall.Ifanything,he’smoreaffectionate.Thiswholeordealhasonlybroughtusclosertogether,whichinawaymakesmefeelworse.Ican’tsaypreciselyhowIwould’vehandleditifthesituationswerereversed,butI’mfairlysureIwouldn’thaveshruggedandsaid,“Waterunderthebridge”IguessPrestonisabetterpersonthanIam.
Ineedtofollowhislead.Bebetter.Focusharderonourrelationship.Thebigpicture,ashe’dphrasedit.
Sothatnight,whenCoopertextsme,I’mreadyforit.I’dbeenwaitingallday,allevening,forhimtoreachout.Iknewhewould,andIknowwhatIhavetodo.
Cooper:Weshouldtalk.
Me:There’snothingtosay.
Cooper:Letmecomegetyou.
Me:Ican’t.ItoldPrestonaboutthekiss
Cooper:And?
Me:Heforgaveme.Ican’tseeyouanymore
There’saverylongdelay,nearlyfiveminutes,beforeCoopersendsanothermessage.Bythen,I’monpinsandneedles,practicallyjumpingoutofmyskin.
Cooper:Isthatreallywhatyouwant?
Istaremiserablyatthescreen,alumprisinginmythroat.ThenIforcemyselftotype.
Me:Yes.Goodbye,Cooper.
Partofmehatescuttinghimoffsoabruptly.Itisn’thisfaultthatImessedup.ButIcan’ttrustmyselfaroundhim,andthisisthedecisionIshouldhavemadeweeksago.Iwasstupid.IthoughtIcouldhavehimasafriend.IthoughtIcouldplaybothsides.Now,I’mchoosing.
I’mchoosingPreston.CHAPTERSIXTEEN
COOPER
OnSundayafternoon,I’minthegaragewhenmyunclecallstosayhe’sstoppingby.Everytimemyphonebuzzesinmypocket,there’sasecondortwowhereIthinkitmightbeMackenzie.ThenIlookatthescreenandrememberthatIblewit.Readherallwrong.
Goodbye,Cooper.
Yeah.Itmust’vebeenfunforhertoslumitwithsometownietrash,makebelieveshewaslivingdangerously.Andthen,theseconditgotreal,shesplit.Iwasstupidtothinkitwouldendanyotherway.
Butgoddamnit,Ican’tgetthetasteofheroffmytongue.Forthepastweek,I’vewokenupeverymorningwithahard-onfromimaginingherlegswrappedaroundme.Ican’tevenjerkoffwithoutpicturesofMacforcingthemselvesintomymind.Thischickisslow-actingpoison.AndallIcanthinkaboutisgettingmore.
Today,thankstoEvan,Ihavetobuildanewcoffeetable.TheoneI“sold”toMackenzieisstillsittingunderadropcloth,becauseitdoesn’tseemrighttotakeitincaseshedecidestocomebackforit.Itellmyselfit’sforthemoneyandleaveitatthat.Anyway,thisone’sgoingtobeaquickanddirtypiece.FuckingEvan.Lastnightduringasuddenpartythatbrokeoutatourplace,hegotintoitwithsomeguywewenttohighschoolwith.Idon’tknowhowitstarted,onlythatitendedwithoneofthemslammingtheotherthroughthetableandleavingabloodytrailoutmybackdoor.Evaninsistshe’sfine,butI’mstartingtoworryabouthim.Lately,he’sbeenfindingmoreexcusestostartfights.Alwaysinapissymood.Drinkingmore.Thisshit’sgettingold
WhenLevishowsup,hehandsmeacupoffreshcoffeehepickeduponthewayandIdustoffacouplestoolsforus
Leviisourfather’sbrother.Tall,rugged,withashortbrownbeardandsquareface.Althoughhebearsaresemblancetomydad,thetwoofthemcouldn’tbemoredifferent.WhereDadnevermissedachancetofuckhimselfupandpassitontous,Leviactuallyhashislifetogether.
“Yourbrotheraround?”heasks.
“Leftalittlewhileago.”Probablypickingupagreasyhangovercurefromthediner.“So.What’sup?”
“Nothing.”Heshrugs.“Justwantedtostopbyandsayaquickhello.Ihaven’tbeentothehouseinafewmonths,soIwantedtocheckin.”Levieyesthetableinprogress.“Workingonsomethingnew?”
“Nothingimportant.”
“Whenareyougoingtogetseriousaboutthat,Coop?Irememberyoutalkingabouttryingtomakeagoofitsometimeback.”
“Yeah,Iguessthat’skindofonthebackburner.”
“Itshouldn’tbe.You’regoodenough.MuchasIlikehavingyouonthejobsite,youcouldbedoingmoreforyourself.”
Levigaveusourfirstfull-timejobsoutofhighschool.He’sdonewellatittoo.Notrollingindoughbyanymeans,buthestaysbusy.Likealotofpeople,thestormsgavehimmoreworkthanheknewwhattodowith.
Shrugging,Itakeasipofcoffee.“Igotafewpiecesinsomecoastalfurnitureshopsinthetri-countyarea.Maybeabouttengrandsavedup,butthat’sstillnowherenearenoughforalltheoverheadI’dneedtostartarealbusiness.”
“I’dgiveyathemoneyifIhadit,”hesays,andIknowhe’sbeingentirelysincere.He’salwaysbeenthereforussinceourdaddied.Whenourmomwasstrungoutormissing,whenthefridgewasempty,whenourhomeworkwasdue.“EverythingI’vegotistiedupinthebusiness.Ilovehavingthework,butit’sexpensivetokeepupwithdemand.”
“It’snosweat.Ican’ttakeyourmoney,anyway.You’vedonemorethanenoughforEvanandme.”I’veneverinmylifeaskedforahandout,andI’mnotabouttostartnow.ImakefinemoneyworkingforLevi.IfIkeepatitandsaveup,I’llmakemyownway.Eventually.
“Whataboutabankloan?”hesuggests.
I’vealwaysresistedtheidea.NottheleastofwhichbecauseIdealtwiththebanksafterourdad’sdeath—andeveryoneofthemarefilledwithnothingbutbloodsuckingsuitswhowouldsoonergrindusintofoodpelletsthanhelpussucceed.
“Idon’tknow,”Ifinallyanswer.“Idon’tliketheideaofgoingintomoredebt.Orhavingtoleveragethehouse.”IknowIsoundlikeawhinybitch.Atsomepoint,I’mgonnahavetomakeupmymind.Eithergetseriousaboutgettingmybusinessoffthegroundorstopmoaningaboutit.
“Well,that’strue.Itcostsmoneytomakemoney.Butgiveitsomethought.Ifthisisreallysomethingyouwanttobuildabusinessoutof,Icanhelp.Co-signtheloanforyou.”
It’sagenerousoffer,andoneIdon’ttakelightly.EvenifI’mnotthrilledabouttheideanow,I’mnotabouttothrowhisgraciousnessinhisface,soInodslowly.“Thanks,Levi.I’llthinkaboutit.”
Levidoesn’tstaymorethanafewminutes.Afterwefinishourcoffee,he’sofftomeetwithaclientaboutanotherjob,andI’mbacktomeasuringaplankofcedar.Myhead’snotinit,though.It’sneveragoodideatooperatepowertoolswhenyourconcentrationisshot,soIcallitquitsandleavemyworkshop.Whatever.EvancaneathisdinneroffthefloortonightlikehispreciousgirlfriendDaisy.
SpeakingofDaisy,she’snippingatmyheelswhenIstridebackinthehouse.Forthenexttenminutes,wepracticehersit-stays,butmyhead’snotfeelingthateither.
Goodbye,Cooper.
Ifeel…heavy.LikeI’mbeingdraggedunderthesurfacebyahundred-poundsteelanchorwrappedaroundmyneck.It’snotaforeignfeelingforme.Mywholelife,I’vefeltweigheddown.Bymyparents’debts,mybrother’sbullshit,thatsenseIgetsometimesthatI’mtrappedinmyownhead.
“Sorry,girl,Igottagetoutofhere,”Itellthedog,reachingdowntoscratchbeneathhersilkyear.“I’llbebackinaminute.Promise.”
That’salie.It’lltakemorethanaminutetodowhatI’mitchingtodo.Daisy’llbefine,though.Evanwillshowerherwithloveandattentionwhenhegetshome.SamewayMackenziedideverytimesheisthedog.Iwonderifshe’llcomebacktovisitDaisysometimes.
Doubtit.She’sprobablyalreadyforgottenaboutthebothofus.
Gottaadmit,Ididn’texpecthertobesocold.IguessintheendsheisjustlikealltheotherGarnetclones.Cold-bloodedtothecore.
Honestly,itservesmeright.Iwentintothiswithbadintentions,treatedherasameansforrevengeagainstKincaid.
Karma’sabitch.
Iforciblyshoveheroutofmymind.Tenminuteslater,I’mparkingmytruckneartheboardwalk.ThetattooparlorisemptywhenIenter,saveforafrazzled-lookingWyattsittingatthecounterwithasketchpadinfrontofhim.
“Yo,”hegreetsme,hisexpressionbrightening.
“Yo.Gottimeforawalk-in?”
Wyatt’sbeentattooingmesinceIwasasixteen-year-oldpunkrequestingatombstoneonmyleftbiceps.’Course,hewasonlyayearolderatthetime,withatattoogunhepickedupfromthepawnshop,somyfirstinkwasn’texactlyamasterpiece.IfIhavekids,firstthingI’mtellingthemistoneverlettheirdumbassteenagefriendspokeneedlesintotheirflesh.Fortunately,itturnedoutallrightintheend.Wyatthonedhiscraftandnowco-runsthisjointwithanotherartist,andmyshittytombstonewasskillfullycamouflagedwithinafullsleevefeaturingawaterygraveyardamongthecrashingwavesofAvalonBay.
“Depends,”Wyattsays.“What’sthepiece?”
“Simple,small.Iwantananchor.”Irubmyfingertipsoverthebackofmyneck.“Righthere.”
“Whatkindofanchor?Stockless?Admiralty?”
I’mnotaboatguy,soIrollmyeyes.“HowthefuckdoIknow?Afishermananchor—youknowtheoneImean.”
Hesnickers.“Admiralty,then.Cometotheback.It’lltakelessthananhour.”
Innotimeatall,I’mstraddlingachairwhileWyattprepshisworkstation.That’showitworksintheBay.Ifyou’regoodtoyourfriends,they’regoodtoyou.Wyattprobablywon’tevenchargemeforthisnewink,nomatterhowmuchIinsist.Instead,he’llshowupatmyplaceinafewmonthsorayearfromnowaskingforsomerandomfavor,andI’llhappilyoblige.
“SowhatwereyoulookingallbotheredaboutwhenIgothere?”Iask.
Hereleasesafrustratedgroan.“Ah.Yeah.IwastryingtodesignapiecesofuckingsexythatRen’llhavenochoicebuttotakemeback.”
Ismotheralaugh.“Shedumpyouagain?”
“Whatelseisnew,right?”
He’snotwrong.WyattandLaurenakaRenbreakupatleasteveryothermonth,usuallyonaccountofthemostrandomnonsenseyoucanimagine.They’reagreatsourceofentertainment,though.
“Whathappenedthistime?”
“Leanforward,”heorders,nudgingmesothatI’mbentoverthechair,thebackofmyheadathismercy.
Asecondlater,Ifeelacoolsprayatmynape.Wyattcleanstheareawithasoftclothbeforereachingforarazor
“Okay,”hesaysashestartsshavingtheshorthairsonmyneck.“Ineedyoutoimaginesomething.Ready?”
Mysnickerismuffledagainstmyforearm.“Sure.Ready.”
“You’reonanisland.”
“Desertedor,like,aresortisland?”
“Deserted.Youwereinaplanecrash.Oryourboatcapsized.Notimportant.”
“Howisitnotimportant?”Iobject.“IfIwasonaboat,I’dprobablybemorefamiliarwithislandsandtidesandshit,whichmeansI’dhaveabettershotatsurvival.”
“OhmyGod.That’snotthepoint,”hegrumbles.“Whyyougottacomplicateit,Hartley?You’reonadesertedisland.Theend.”
“Coolstory,bro.”
“YourealizeI’mholdingarazornearyourneckrightnow?”
Iswallowanotherlaugh.“Okay.I’monadesertedisland.Nowwhat?”
“Wantmetostencilthisoutorfreehandit?”
“Freehand.Itrustyou.”Besides,ifthetatistrash,atleastit’ssomewhereIcan’tseeit.
Wyattkeepsjabberingasheprepstheink.Blackonly.I’mnotfancy.“Soyou’restuckthere.Thisisyourlifenow,thisisland.But!Goodnews.You’reabouttogetsomecompany.Twoboatsappear—”
“Sweet,soI’mrescued?”
“No!”Hesoundsaggravated.“Ijustsaidyou’restuckthereforever.”
“Butthereareboats.”
“Theboatsexplodeinfiveminutes,okay?Therearenoboats.Jesus.”
ItoccurstomethatmaybeIshouldn’tbeantagonizingtheguywiththeneedles.Butdamn,it’sfuntoannoyWyatt.
“Onthefirstboat,there’syourgirlfriend,orpartner,orwhatever.Butjustthem.Nothingelse.Thesecondboathasnobodyonit.Butit’sgotallthesuppliesyouneedtosurviveontheisland.Firekits,buildingmaterials,food,weapons,I’mtalkingeverything.”
Mylipstwitch.“DidRenposethisthoughtexperimenttoyou?”
“Yes,”hesaysglumly.
Itwistmyheadtopeerathim.“Youstupidbastard.Didyoupickthesuppliesboatinsteadofher?”
“Likeyouwouldn’t,”heaccuses.
Laughterrumblesoutofmychest.
“It’samatteroflifeanddeath,Coop.Ineedfoodandshelter!Sure,it’dbegreattohaveRenthere,butwe’lldieinfivesecondsflatifwedon’thavethetoolstolive.Andanyway,withallthestuffatmydisposal,Icanbuildaraftandmakemywayhometoher.It’scommonsense.”
“Renreallydumpedyoubecauseofthis?”
“What?No.That’sinsane.ShedumpedmebecauseIwasanhourlatetohersister’sbirthdaydinner.IwasoutwithTatetellinghimaboutherdumbthoughtexperimentandlosttrackoftime.”
Istareathim.Howarethesemyfriends?
Ontheotherhand,I’mgettingafreetattoooutofhim,andhisnonsensedidsucceedinhelpingmeforgetaboutMackenzie.
Goodbye,Cooper.
Ornot.CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
MACKENZIE
I’vebeenonmybestbehavior.Ihaven’tspokentoCooperinacoupleweeks.Keptmydistancefromtheboardwalk.IfiguredifIweretoaccidentallybumpintohim,it’dbethere,sobesttoremovealltemptation.Myrestrainthasn’tstoppedthedreams,though.OrtheforbiddenmemoriesthatfloodmymindwheneverI’minclass.
IcatchmyselfrelivingourfirstkissduringEnglishLit.
RememberingthewayhishandsheldmefirmagainsthisfrontdoorduringBiology.
InEuropeanHistory,I’mthinkingabouthishardchestbeneathmypalms,andsuddenlyI’mflushedandbreathingheavy,wonderingifeveryonenotices.
Onthebrightside,PrestonandIarerocksolid,andIfinallymadeaGarnetfriendwhoisn’tBonnie.HernameisKate,andalthoughshehappenstobeMelissa’syoungersister,thetwoarenotatallalike.Kate’shilarious,sarcastic,andhatessailing—allplusesinmybook.WemetataKappaNudinnerthatPrestonurgedmetoattendbecausehethinksIshouldbemakingmoreofanefforttoconnectwithMelissaandChrissyandtheirsororityfriends.Instead,IspenthalfthenightinthecornerwithKatedebatingtheartisticmeritofTheBachelor
SowhenshetextsonaThursdaynightaskingifIwanttograbdrinkswithherandsomefriendsintown,I’mtotallydown.ItmeansriskingrunningintoCooper,butIcan’tdeclinemyfirstinvitefromsomeoneotherthanBonnie.
“Youwannacomewithus?”IaskmyroommateasIbraidmyhairinoursharedbathroom.
Bonnie’sheadappearsinthemirrorbehindme.“Iwould,butI’mseein’Toddtonight.”
Igrinatherreflection.“Again?Lookslikethingsaregettingseriousbetweenyoutwo…”Iswearshe’sgoneoutwiththesandwichshopguyalotlately.Somuchforherbadboyfetish.ImetToddonceandtherewasneitherapiercingnortattooinsight.
“Serious?Pfft!”Shewavesherhand.“He’soneofthreeonmyrotation,Mac.TomorrownightI’mseein’Harry,andSaturdayit’sdinnerwiththatboyIwastellingyouabout—Jason?TheonewholookslikeEdward?”
“Edward?”Iechoblankly.
“FromTwilight?”Sheshivershappily.“Oooh,heissooohandsomeIwouldn’tevencareifheendedupbeinganactualvampire.Howwildisthat?Andbloodtotallymakesmesqueamish.”
Isnort.“I’mprettysurehe’snotavampire.”ThoughIstillhaven’truledoutthepossibilityofBonniebeingawitch.
Iwishherluckonherdate,thenleavethedormandheadfortheparkinglot,wheremyUberawaitsme.I’mmeetingKateandherfriendsattheRipTide.Asthecarapproachesthebeachfrontvenue,mymindflashesbacktothelasttimeIcamehere,andmyheartbeataccelerates.ThatwasthenightImetCooper.ThenightBonniehookedupwithhistwinwhileCooperandIstayedupallnight,talkingabouteverythingandnothing.
Enough,asternvoiceorders.Forgetabouthim.
Ireallyneedtodothat.I’mwithPreston.ThinkingaboutCooperisn’tgoodformyrelationship.
Ithankthedriverandslideoutofthecar.AsIrearrangemysidebraid,mygazeflickstowardthecrumblinghotelI’dfirstseenoveramonthago.It’sstillstanding.Stillvacant,fromthelooksofit.AweirdsensationfluttersinmybellyasIstareatthesprawlinghotel,itsweathered,whitefa?adegleamingfromtheglowofalonestreetlight.
Ittakessurprisingefforttotearmygazeaway.Great.FirstmybraingetshunguponCooper,nowit’sobsessingoveranabandonedhotel?I’vegotissues.
Insidethebar,IfindKateatatableatthesideofthestage.She’swiththreeothergirls,twoofwhomIdon’trecognize.ThethirdisMelissa.Istifleasigh,becauseIhadn’trealizedMelissawascomingtoo.Idon’thaveanythingagainsther,buthergossipynatureputsmeonguard.
“Heygirl,”Kategreetsme.
Likehersister,shehaspalehairandbig,grayeyes,buttheirstylesarecompletelydifferent.Kate’swearingatinybluedressthatbarelycoversherthighs,flip-flops,andchunkybanglesonbothwrists.Meanwhile,Melissa’sknee-lengthpinkdressisbuttonedallthewayuptotheneck,andtherearetwomassivediamondssparklinginherearlobes.
“Hey.”Idirectanawkwardsmileacrossthetable.“Hey,Melissa.”
Kateintroducesmetohertwofriends,AlishaandSutton.WedecidetoorderdaiquirisatMelissa’sinsistence,althoughwhenKateandIheadtothebartoplaceourorder,shewinksandgetsustwovodkashotsaswell.
“Don’ttellmysister,”shesays,andweslingthembackwithconspiratorialgrins.
Backatthetable,thefirstroundofdaiquirisisgoneintheblinkofaneye,sowequicklyordermore.Bythethirdround,ourconversationtopicsdevolvefromourclassesandfutureplanstoembarrassingstoriesandmen.KatetellsusabouttheTAwhohasamassivecrushonherandshowshislovebystaplingadriedfloweronthelastpageofeverypapershesubmits.
Iburstoutlaughing.“No!Hedoesn’t.”
“Oh,hedoes.Andifyouthinktheeternalloveflamehekeepsburningearnsmebettergrades,you’rewrong.HegavemeaCminusonmylastessay.”Shelooksoutraged.“Screwyourperfectlypressedpetuniapetals,Christopher.GivemetheA.”
AlishabeatsKate’sstorywithoneaboutaprofessorwhoaccidentallyemailedheranimpassionedloveletterthatwassupposedtogotohisestrangedwife.
“HernamewasAlicesoIguessheauto-filledtheemailwith‘Al’andclickedmynameinstead.”Shetwirlsherdaiquiristrawasshegiggles.“Theemailwasalistofallthereasonssheshouldn’tgothroughwiththeirdivorce.Basicallystatinghiscaseofwhyhe’samazing.”
Melissa’sjawdrops.“OhmyGod.Whatwerethereasons?”
“Idon’trememberthemall,butthefirstonewas…waitforit…”Alishapausesfordramaticeffect.“‘Adequatelover.’”
Ourentiretablehootswithlaughter.
“Adequate?”Katesaysthroughgiggles.“Oh,thatpoorwife.”
Islurpdowntherestofmydrink.ItoccurstomeIhaven’thadapropergirls’nightsincehighschool,triggeringtherealizationthatI’vebeenterribleatkeepingintouchwithmySpencerHillfriends.Granted,theyhaven’treachedouteither,soIguessthatsaysalotaboutourfriendship.Ivowtodoabetterjobatnurturingthesecollegefriendships.
Ourconversationdevolvesevenfurther,asSuttonsuggestsweplayagame.Well,notsomuchagameas“let’sratethehotnessofeverysingleguywhowalkspastourtable”
“Oooh,howabouthim?”Alishaasksinaloudwhisper.
Weallexaminealong-hairedsurferdudeinaredtanktopandorangeboardshorts.“Twooutoftenforfashionsense,”Melissasays,liftinghernose.“Redandorange?Comeon.Havesomerespectforyourself,sir.”
Ican’thelpbutsnicker.DrunkMelissaisstillsnooty,butshe’salsocattier,whichI’mloving.
“Butt?Nineoutoften,”Katedecides.“It’sagreatbutt.”
“IbetIcouldbounceaquarteroffthatthing,”Alishaagrees.
Yes,we’reobjectifyingtheseboys.Intoxicatedgirlshaveneithershamenorscruples.
“Sevenoverall,”Suttonsays.
“Three,”Melissacorrects,juttingherchin.“Ican’tgetpastthered/orangecombo.Ijustcan’t.”
“Um,guys?”hissesAlisha,wholeansforwardeagerly.“Sixo’clock,farendofthebar—Ijustfoundatenacrosstheboard.”
Weallturntowardthebar.Inearlychokeonmytongue.
Alisha’sperfecttenisCooperHartley.
Katewhistlessoftly.“Ohyeah.Ilike.”
“Ilove,”Alishacorrects,herfacetakingonadreamyglow.
Idon’tblameher.Cooperlooksdamngoodtonight.He’swearingthatthreadbareT-shirtIlike,theonewiththeBillabonglogothatstretchesacrosshisbroadshouldersandemphasizeshisdefinedchest.Addtothatthemessydarkhair,thetwofull-sleevetattoos,thecargopantshugginganasseventauterthanthesurfer’s,andyou’vegotonefinespecimenofaman.
Asifsensingthefemaleattention,Cooper’sheadjerkssharply.Asecondlater,he’slookingatourtable.Heatfloodsmycheekswhenmygazelockswithhis.Shit.AmIblushing?IhopeI’mnotblushing.
Hiseyesnarrowatthesightofme.Lipsflattenforasecondbeforetwistinginaslightsmirk.
Besideme,Alishagasps.“He’sstaringatyou,”sheaccusesme.“Doyouknowhim?”
“I…uh…”Mymindracesinanattempttocomeupwithasuitablereasonwhyahottowniemightbemakingprolongedeyecontactwithme
“Mackenzie?”Melissa’sshrewdgazeburnsaholeinthesideofmyface.“Doyouknowthatguy?”
Mythroatiscompletelydry.IwrestlemyeyesoffCooperandreachformydrink.Takingasipprovidesmewithafewextrasecondstopanic-thinkofanexcuse.Melissaisn’tonlynosy—she’ssmart.IfIadmittoknowingCooper,eveninajust-friendscapacity,it’llabsolutelytriggerhergossipsetting.She’llaskmorequestions,andifevenoneofmyanswersdoesn’tringtrueforher,shemighttellBenji,who’llinturntellPreston,wholiterallyjustforgavemeforkissinganotherguy.
So,no.There’snowayIcanfessuptoknowingCooperinanycapacity.
“Evan,”Iblurtout.
Melissafrowns.“What?”
Isetdownmyplasticdaiquiricup.Reliefandsatisfactioncoursethroughmeatmystrokeofgenius.“That’sEvanHartley.Myroommatehookedupwithhimatthebeginningofthesemester.”
Sherelaxesslightly,hermanicuredfingerstoyingwiththediamondinherear.“Really?LittleBonnietappedthat?”
“Ohyeah.”Imusterupalaughandhopenobodyhearsthetensioninit.“Shetotallyabandonedmeforamoonlightbeachhookupwiththeguy.”
Perfect.NowifMelissatriestofact-checkme,Bonniecaneasilycorroborate.AslongasCooperstaysacrosstheroomanddoesn’t—
Walkovertous.
Sonofabitch,he’swalkingoverhere.
Myheartbeatsfasterthanthecanneddancemusicpouringfromthespeakers.Whatishedoing?ItoldhimIcouldn’tseehimanymore.Imadeitclear,damnit.Hecan’tjustcomeuptomytablelikenothinghappenedand—
“Evan!”Iexclaiminatoo-loudvoicewithatoo-brightsmile.Cooper’sgaitstuttersforasecond.Thenhislonglegsresumetheireasystrideuntilhe’sstandinginfrontofme.Heshoveshishandsinhispockets,donningalazyposeashedrawls,“Mackenzie.”
“Evan,hey.How’sitgoing?”Iask,allfriendlyandlaidbackasifwehadn’tmadeout,asifI’dneverfelttheprominentridgeofhiserectionpulsingagainstmybelly.“Ihaven’tseenyousincethatnightyoustolemyroommateawayandseducedher.”
Katesnickers.
IremainfocusedonCooper,hopingmyeyesareconveyingeverythingIcan’tsayoutloud.Playalong.Please.Ican’thavethesegirlsgossipingaboutusandriskitgettingbacktoPres.Pleaseplayalong.
ThefactthatI’mnotacknowledginghistrueidentitysparksguiltinme,butitdoesn’tcomparetohowawfulIfeltaboutcheatingonPreston.KissingCooperhadbeenamistake.ButIcamecleantomyboyfriend,myconscienceisclear,andnowIjustwanttomoveon.Whichwon’tbepossibleifMelissadecidesthere’sgossippotentialhere.SoIsilentlyimploreCooper,whoisn’tgivingmeaninch.
Hissmirkdeepens,darkeyesglitteringwithsomethingIcan’tdecipher.
Bythetimehefinallyspeaks,I’mabundleofnervesandsweatingthroughmytanktop.
“Ididn’thearBonniecomplainingthatnight,”hesayswithawink.
Ialmostfaintwithrelief.HopefullynoonenoticesmyhandshakingasIreachformydrink.“Well,she’snottheonewhohadtoUberbacktocampusallaloneattwointhemorning.”Itakeahastysipbeforemakingtheintroductions.“Alisha,Sutton,Kate,Melissa.Guys,thisisEvan.”
It’sfunny,IneverrealizedhowdifferentCooperandhistwinareuntilthisverymoment,whenCoopertransformsintoEvan.Hisnormallyintense,broodingeyesgleammischievously.Histonguegiveshisbottomlipateasingswipebeforeheflashesacockygrinatmyfriends.
“So.”Evenhisvoicesoundsdifferentnow.Lighter,flirtier.“WhichoneofMackenzie’sfriendswillIbeseducingtonight?”
You’dthinkalinethatsleazywouldevokegroans.Instead,thegirlsallbutswoonoverit.EvenMelissaisaffected.Herfaceturnspink,lipspartingslightly.
Idon’tblamethem.Thisguyissexpersonified.Doesn’tmatterifhe’sbeinghisbroodyselforpretendingtobehismanwhorebrother,thesexualenergypoursoffhiminwaves.
“Keepitinyourpants,Evan.”Mytoneismeanttobeteasingbutsoundslikeawarning.
Hisgrinwidens.
“Alright.”Suttonreleasesanexaggeratedsighandhopsoffherstool.“IguessI’lltakeonefortheteam.”Herhazyexpressiontellsmeshe’salreadyhavingsexwithCooperinhermind.“How’boutadancefirst,andthenwecandiscussthatseductionoffer?”
There’snotasinglemuscleinmybodythatisn’tcoiledtight.Myfingerscurlaroundmycup,squeezinghard.I’mworriedImightcrushit.It’sadamngoodthingit’smadeofplastic,otherwisethere’dbeglassshardseverywhere.
Cooper’smockingeyesdon’tmissmyresponse.He’swatchingmeevenasheanswersSutton.“Adancesoundsgreat.Leadtheway,babe.”
Threesecondslater,he’swrappedupwithSuttononthedancefloorinfrontofthestage.Herarmslooparoundhisneck,herslenderframepressedagainsthisstrongone.Cooper’shandsskimthebackofherlacycamisole,onepalmtrailinglower,restingrightabovethecurveofherass.Hisotherhandglidesupherspineandtanglesinherdarkponytailbeforecuppingthebackofherneck.
Bitterragecoatsmythroat.Ireachformydaiquirihopingtogetridoftheviletaste,onlytofindmycupisempty.
“Ugh,Ican’tbelieveher,”Alishaisgriping.
Her?Ican’tbelievehim.Whatishedoing,dirtydancingwithacompletestranger?
Besideme,KatepatsAlisha’sarm.“I’msorry,hon.Nexttimeyougottabequicker.”
“Lord,heishot,”Melissaremarks,herattentiongluedtoCooperandSutton.“IfIwasn’twithBenji,Iwouldtotallyconsiderslummingitwithatownieforthenight.”
Iliftabrow.“Ithoughtextracurricularactivitieswereperfectlyacceptable?”
Shelaughs.“Um,no.Notforus,sweetie.Atleastnotuntilwe’vegottheIDoslockeddown.Thenyoucanscrewthepoolboysandgardenerstoyourheart’scontent.”
Katerollshereyesatheroldersister.“You’reoneclassybitch,Mel.”
Melissashrugs.“What?That’sthewayit’sdone.”
Itunethemout,distractedbytheverticalsexdisplayhappeningtenfeetfromourtable.Suttonisnowonhertiptoes,whisperinginCooper’sear.
Hechuckles,andIstiffen.Whataretheygigglingaboutoverthere?
Andhereallyneedstoremovehishandsfromherass.Like,rightnow.He’slayingitonthickformyexpense,andIamnothavingit.Ibitetheinsideofmycheek.Hard.
“Itotallyshould’vestakedmyclaimthesecondhewalkeduptous,”Alishamoans.She’salsoobsessivelywatchingthedancefloor.
“Earlybirdgetsthedick,”Katesayssolemnly.
“Ugh.Whatever.”Alishaslamshercuponthetableandpouts.“She’salltalkanyway.Suttondoesn’tdocasualsex.She’snotgoingtofallintobedwithsomeguyshedoesn’teven—”Alishastopsabruptly,herjawdropping.
IfollowhergazejustintimetoseeCooperandSuttonleavingthebartogether.CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
MACKENZIE
Thenextmorning,mymediacultureclassiscanceled.Theprofessorsendsamassemailthatdefiesthelawsofoversharing,informingusthathisbowelshadrevoltedagainstthemeatloafhiswifepreparedfordinnerlastnight.
Ifeelyourpain,bud.Mystomach’sbeeninknotssinceIsawCooperleavetheRipTidewithhisarmslungaroundSutton.
Didtheyhavesex?Ifeelqueasyatthethought.Andalittleangry.Howcouldhefallintobedwithsomechickhe’dknownfor2.5seconds?Ormaybetheydidn’tsleeptogether.Maybeshejustblewhim.
AredmistovertakesmyfieldofvisionatthethoughtofSuttongoingdownonCooper.Iwanttoriphisdickoffforlettinghertouchit.
Hmm.Okay.
MaybeI’mmorethana“little”angry.
ButI’mnotallowedtofeelthatway.Cooperisnotmyboyfriend.Prestonis.I’mnotallowedtohaveanopinionaboutwhoCooperhooksupwith,andIcertainlyshouldn’tbereachingformyphonerightnowandpullingupourchatthreadand—
Me:Youdidn’thavetodothatonmyaccount.Andby“dothat,”ImeanSutton.
Damnit.Whatiswrongwithme?Iregretsendingthetextthemomentitappearsonthescreen.Ifranticallytapatthescreeninsearchofanunsendoption,butthat’snothowtextmessageswork.
AndnowCooperistypingaresponse.
Heartbeatingwildly,Isitupinbedandinwardlycursemyselfformylackofself-control.
Cooper:Ohwe’retalkingagain?
Me:No.We’renot.
Cooper:Cool.Later.
Istareatmyphoneinfrustration.I’mmorefrustratedwithmyselfthanwithhim,though.Itoldhimwecouldn’tbefriends.Iliterallysaid,“Goodbye,Cooper.”LastnightIcalledhimEvanandallbutthrewhimatmysinglefriendssothatMelissawouldn’tsuspectanythingandtellBenji.Thisisonme.OfcourseCooperdoesn’twanttotalktome.
Andyetmystupidfingershaveamindoftheirown.
Me:I’mjustsaying.ThanksforplayingalongwhenIcalledyouEvan,butyoudidn’thavetogofull-onmethodacting.
Cooper:Heyprincess?Howaboutyouworrymoreaboutyourboyfriend’sdickandlessaboutmine?
Iwanttoscream.IwishI’dnevermetCooperHartley.ThenIwouldn’tbefeelingthisway.Alltwistedupinside.Nottomentionthejealousyeatingatmythroatlikebatteryacidthankstohisreply.Ishesayinghisdickwasafactorlastnight,then?
I’mthreesecondsawayfromaskingKateforSutton’snumbersoIcanconfirmexactlywhathappenedlastnight,whencommonsensesettlesin.IfmygoallastnightwastoensureMelissawouldn’tgetsuspicious,goingbatshitcrazyonSuttonwon’thelpthecause.
UtilizingeveryiotaofwillpowerIpossess,Ishovemyphoneasideandgrabmylaptop.Noclassmeansmoretimeforwork,whichisalwaysagreatdistraction.
Icheckmyemail,butthere’snothingpressingthatneedstobeaddressed.ThematterwithTadandhismicropenishasblownover,thankGod.AndmymodsandadmanagersarereportingthatSeptemberwasourbestmonthyetintermofrevenue.It’sthekindofnewsanybusinessownershouldbethrilledtohear,anddon’tgetmewrong,Iamthrilled.ButasIspendthenextcouplehoursdoingbasicbusinesshousekeeping,thefrustrationreturns,risinginmythroat.Ihavethesuddenurgetogetoffcampusforawalk.Sickofthesameoldscenery.SickofmyobsessivethoughtsaboutCooper.
Tenminuteslater,I’minacabheadingforAvalonBay.Ineedthefreshair,thesunshine.Thecardropsmeoffnearthepier,andIwalktowardtheboardwalk,shovingmyhandsinthepocketsofmycutoffshorts.Ican’tbelievehowbalmythetemperatureisforOctober,butI’mnotcomplaining.Thehotbreezefeelslikeheavenagainstmyface.
Whenmyfeetcarrymeallthewaytothehotel,Isuddenlyrealizewhatmotivatedmetocomeheretoday.Thesamethrillofpossibilitysurgesthroughmyblooduponfindingthehotelstillsittingempty.Waiting.
It’scrazy,butasIstareatthederelictbuilding,mybodystartshumming.Evenmyfingersareitching,likeametaphoricalneedtogetmyhandsmoving.IsthisthechallengeI’dbeenlookingfor?ThiscondemnedhotelIcan’tquitfantasizingabout?
It’snotevenforsale,Iremindmyself.Andyetthatdoesn’tseemtomatter.Thehummingrefusestosubside.
AnideaformsinmymindasImakemywaybackthroughtown,whereIstopatacaféforadrink.Whenthewomanbehindthecounterhandsmemyjuicespritzer,Ihesitateforamoment.AvalonBayisasmalltown.Ifwe’regoingbythesmalltownsI’veseenonTVshowslikeGilmoreGirls,thatmeanseveryoneknowseverythingabouteveryoneandeverything.
SoItakeawildguessandask,“Whatdoyouknowabouttheoldabandonedhotelontheboardwalk?TheBeacon?Anyideawhytheownerhasn’tdoneanythingwithit?”
“Askheryourself.”
Iblink.“Sorry,what?”
Shenodstowardatablebythewindow.“That’stheowner.”
Ifollowhergazeandspotanelderlywomanwearingawide-brimhatandhugeblacksunglassesthatobscuremostofherface.She’sdressedmorelikeabeachcomberthanahotelier.
Whataretheodds?Thehummingintensifies,untilmyentirebodyfeelswiredwithalivecurrent.Thishastomeansomething.
Carryingmydrink,Islowlyapproachthetablebythewindow.“Excuseme,I’msorrytobotheryou.IwonderedifImighttalktoyouaboutyourhotel.MayIsitdown?”
Thewomandoesn’tlookupfromhercoffeecakeandcupoftea.“We’reclosed.”
“Yes,Iknow.”Itakeabreath.“IhopedImightchangethat.”
Shepicksathercakewithbrittlefingers.Pullstinycrumbs,placingthemslowly,gently,inhermouth.
“Ma’am?Yourhotel.CanIaskyouafewquestions?”
“We’reclosed.”
Ican’ttellifshe’sputtingmeon,ornotallthere.Idon’twanttoberudeorupsether,soItryonelasttime.
“Iwanttobuyyourhotel.Isthatsomethingthatwouldinterestyou?”
Finally,sheliftsherheadtolookatme.Ican’tseehereyesbecauseofthesunglasses,butthethoughtfulpurseofherlipsconfirmsI’vecapturedherinterest.Shetakesalongsipofhertea.Then,settingdownthecup,shepushesoutachairformewithherfoot
Isit,hopingIdon’tappeartooeager.“MynameisMackenzie.Cabot.I’mastudentatGarnetCollege,butI’msortofanentrepreneurtoo.I’mreallyinterestedindiscussingyourhotel.”
“LydiaTanner.”Afteralongbeat,sheremoveshersunglassesandplacesthemonthetabletop.Apairofsurprisinglyshrewdeyeslaserintomine.“Whatdoyouwanttoknow?”
“Everything,”Ianswerwithasmile
Formorethananhour,wediscussthehotel’shistory.Howshebuiltitwithherhusbandafterthewar.Howitwaspracticallydemolishedandrebuiltthreetimessincethen,beforeherhusbanddiedtwoyearsago.Thenafterthelaststorm,shewastoooldandtootiredtorebuildagain.Herheartwasn’tinit,andherkidsweren’tinterestedinsalvagingtheproperty.
“I’vehadoffers,”shetellsme,hervoicesureandsteady.Notatallthetimidoldladyshemightappear.“Somegenerous.Somenot.Developerswhowanttotearitdownandbuildsomehideoushigh-riseinitsplace.Peoplehavebeentryingtoteardowntheboardwalkforyears,turnthisplaceintoMiamiorsomething.Allconcreteandshinyglass.”
Herderisivesniffrevealsexactlyhowshefeelsaboutallthis.“ThistownwillneverbelikeMiami.Ithastoomuchcharm,”Iassureher.
“Thedevelopersdon’tcareaboutcharm.Theyonlyseedollarsigns.”Lydiapicksupherteacup.“Myonlytermsarethatwhoeverbuysmyhotelhastopreservetheintent.Maintainthecharacter.Iwanttomoveclosertomygrandkids,spendwhatevertimeIhaveleftwithmyfamily.”Shesighs.“ButIsimplycan’tbeartoleavewithoutknowingTheBeaconiswellcaredfor.”
“Icanmakeyouthatpromise,”Isayhonestly.“It’sthecharmoftheplacethatmademefallinlovewithit.Icancommittorestoringeverythingasclosetooriginalaspossible.Updatethewiringandplumbing.Reinforcethebones.Makesureitsurvivesanotherfiftyyears.”
Lydiaexaminesme,asifgaugingwhethertotakemeseriouslyorwritemeoffasasillycollegegirlwho’swastinghertime.
Severalsecondstickbybeforeshegivesaslownod.“Well,then,younglady,writedownanumber.”
Anumber?Iknownothingaboutthehotelrealestatemarket,soI’mcompletelyflyingbytheseatofmypantsasItypeafigureintotheNotesapponmyphone.It’smybestestimationofhowmuchapropertylikethismightcost,butalsonotenoughtocleanoutmyentirebusinessaccount.
Islidethephoneover.Lydiastudiesthescreen,oneeyebrowjerkingupasifshe’ssurprisedIhaverealmoneytooffer.
Forthenexttenminutes,wegobackandforth.Ittakessomehagglingonmypart.AndImighthavebeensuckeredintooverpayingbypicturesofhergrandkids,buteventuallywecometoadeal.
Justlikethat,I’mabouttobetheproudownerofmyveryownboardwalkhotel.
Ifeelhighafterclosingmyfirstsuccessfulbusinessdeal,giddyexcitementcoursingthroughmyveins.Sucharush.Atthesametime,it’sinsane.I’mtwentyyearsoldandIjustboughtahotel.Despitehowcrazyitsounds,itfeelssoright.Mymindimmediatelyraceswithnextsteps.InaninstantIseemyfuture,myempiregrowing.IpromisedmyparentsIwouldfocusonschool,andIstillplanto—I’lljustbefocusingonmynewroleashotelowneratthesametime.Icanjuggleboth.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
EvenafterLydiaandIshakeonitandIcallmylawyertostartthepaperwork,itdoesn’tfeelrealuntilIcoaxPrestontoseethepropertythenextday.
Ratherthanshareinmyexcitement,however,hesticksaknifestraightthroughmyenthusiasm.
“What’sthis?”Hescowlsattheguttedhotelwithitscrumblingwallsandwater-damagedfurnishingsspillingout
“Mynewhotel.”
Eyesnarrowed,Prestonslantshisheadatme.Asiftosay,Explainyourself.
“Iknowitisn’tmuchnow.Youhavetoimagineitafteracompleterenovation.”IalmostcringeatthenoteofdesperationIhearinmyvoice.“I’mgoingtorestoreitentirely.Totallyvintage.Postwarluxuryalltheway.Turnthisplaceintoafive-starresort.”
“You’renotserious.”Hisexpressionfallsflat.Mouthpressesintoahardline.NotexactlythereceptionI’dhopedfor.
“Okay,IgetthatIdon’tknowanythingaboutowningahotel,butI’lllearn.Ididn’tknowanythingaboutbuildingawebsiteorrunningabusinesseither.Butthatdidn’tstopmebefore,right?MaybeI’llchangemajorstohospitalityorsomething.”
Hedoesn’tanswer.
Eachsecondofsilenceslowlysucksawaymoreofmyjoy.
“Preston.What’swrong?”Iaskweakly.
Heshakeshishead,tossesuphishands.“I’mreallyatalosshere,Mackenzie.Thishasgottobethemostirresponsible,immaturethingyou’veeverdone.”
“What?”
“Youheardme.”
Hesoundslikemydad,whichIdon’tappreciateintheleast.Granted,Ididn’tputalotofthoughtintothisventurebeforepullingthetrigger—Itendtoactmoreongutinstinct.Still,Ithoughthe’dbealittlehappyforme
“I’mverydisappointedinyou,frankly.Ithoughtafterourtalk—afteryourlittlemistake—wewereonthesamepage.Abouttheplan.Ourfuture.”
“Preston,that’snotfair.”Throwingthekissbackinmyfaceisalowblow.Onehasnothingtodowiththeother.
Heignoresme,finishingwith,“Thatplandoesn’tincludeahotel.”Hislipstwistintoadisapprovingfrown.
“Youdon’tseethepotentialhere?Atall?”Iaskunhappily.
“Potential?Lookatthisplace.It’sadump.Ateardownatbest.Maybeyoucangetsomethingoutoftheland,butarenovation?You’reoutofyourmind.Youdon’tknowthefirstthingaboutanyofthis.Didyoueventhinkfortwosecondsbeforeleveragingyourtrustfundforthisstupiddistraction?”
Indignationshootsthroughme.“I’mmorecapablethanyouthink.AndIdidn’tusemytrustfund.Ihavethecashonhand,ifyoumustknow.”
“How?”hedemands.
Ijutmychin.“Frommywebsites.”
Preslooksstartled.“Yoursillylittletechthing?”
NowI’mpissed.Icanfeeltheheatpouringoutofmyfaceasmynailsdigintomypalms.“Yes,mysillylittletechthing,”Iechobitterly.
I’veneverelaboratedonhowmuchmoneymysiteshavegenerated,andhehasneverseemedparticularlyinterestedbeyondpokingfunatthem.Ithoughtitwasaguything.Harmlessteasing.Sometimeshe’dcomeoverwhenIwasworkingonBoyfriendFailsandtellmehowcuteIlookedwithmyfaceallfurrowedinconcentration.He’dgrinandcallmehis“sexytycoon.”Ithoughthewasproudofme,proudofalltheworkIwasputtingintotheventure.
Itisn’tuntilthisverymomentthatIrealizehewasn’tsmilingoutofpride.Hewasn’tseeingmeasa“tycoon.”
Hewaslaughingatme.
“Thatwassupposedtobeahobby,”hesaysflatly.“IfI’dknownyouwereearninganincomefromit,Iwouldhave—”
“Youwouldhavewhat?”Ichallenge.“Forcedmetostop?”
“Guidedyouintherightdirection,”hecorrects,andhispatronizingtonemakesmybloodboil.“We’vespokenaboutthisbefore.Manytimes.We’dgotocollegetogether.You’dhavewhateverhobbiesyouwantedduringschool.I’dgraduatefirst,takeoveratmydad’sbank.You’dgraduate,jointheboardsofyourmom’sfoundations.”Prestonshakeshisheadatme.“YouagreedI’dbethebreadwinnerintherelationship,whileyoufocusedoncharityworkandraisingourfamily.”
Myjawfallsopen.OhmyGod.Wheneverhe’dsaidstufflikethat,he’dusedateasingvoice.Madeitsoundlikeajoke.
Hewasactuallybeingserious?
“You’regoingtobackoutofthedeal.”Thefinalitywithwhichheissuestheordershakessomethinglooseinsideme.“You’reluckyI’mheretostopyoubeforeyourparentsfindout.Idon’tknowwhat’sgottenintoyoulately,Mackenzie,butyouneedtogetaholdofyourself.”
Istareathim.Stunned.Ineverimaginedhewouldhatethisideawithsuchferocity.Atthevery,veryleast,Ithoughthewouldbesupportiveofmydecision.Thefactthatheisn’tleavesmeshaken.
IfIcouldmisjudgehimonthistosuchanextent,whatelsehaveIbeenwrongabout?CHAPTERNINETEEN
COOPER
“We’reoutofbooze.”
IrollmyeyesatEvan,who’ssprawledonthelivingroomcouchwithonearmflungovertheedge.ThecoffeetableIbuiltlastweekendisalreadystainedwithbeerandcoveredwithcigarettebutts.Someonemust’veknockedovertheoverflowingashtraylastnight,duringanotheroneofEvan’simpromptuparties.
“It’snoononSunday,”Itellmybrother.“Youdon’tneedbooze.Chugsomewater,forfuck’ssake.”
“I’mnotsayingIwantadrinkrightnow.Butsomeoneneedstomakeabeerrun.We’rehostingpokernighttomorrow.”
By“someone,”heclearlymeansme,becausehepromptlycloseshiseyesandsays,“TakeDaisywithyou.Shelikesridinginthetruck.”
IleaveEvantohisbeautysleepandwhistleforthedog.Idon’tnormallyletmybrotherordermearound,buttruthis,I’mfeelingstircrazy.
Ididn’tjoininonlastnight’sdrunkenfestivities.Instead,Ispentmostofthenightinmyworkshop,wenttosleepbeforemidnight,andwasabruptlyawakenedatsevena.m.byadisturbing,X-rateddreamaboutMackenzie.Iwasinbedwithher,ontopofher,thrustingdeepwhileshemoanedagainstmylips.ThenIliftedmyheadandMac’sfacetransformedintothatchickSutton’sface,whichjoltedmerightoutofslumber.
SweartoGod,thisgirlhaswreakedhavoconmybrain.Doesn’tmatterifI’masleeporawake—thoughtsofMackenzieCabotpoisonmyconsciousnessanddrumupawholeslewofemotionsI’drathernotfeel.
Anger,becauseshe’dchosenKincaidoverme.
Frustration,becauseIknowtherewassomethingrealbetweenus.
Guilt,becausemyoriginalintentionshadbeenshadierthanshady.
Andforthepastcoupledays?Disgust.Because,inordertodivertherfriends’suspicionsthatwemightknoweachother,sheforcedmetopretendtobemytwinbrother—andthenhadthenervetobitchaboutmehookingupwithanothergirl.NotthatSuttonandIevenhookedup.WewentforawalkandthenIputherinacab.Butstill.Mackenziehadnorighttobepissed.She’stheonewhokissedthehellouttameandthenbidmefuckingadieu.
“Comeon,”ImuttertoDaisy.“Let’sgobuysomebeerforyourboyfriend.”
Whensheseesmereachingforherleash,thegoldenretrieverdanceshappilyatmyfeet.Weheadouttomytruck,andIopenthepassengersidedoorsoDaisycanjumpup.Sheonlyrecentlylearnedhowtodothat.Before,she’dbeentoolittle,butnowherlegsareinthatganglyteenagerstage,givingherenoughleveragetoleaphigher.She’sgrowingsodamnfast.
“ToobadMaccan’tseeyou,”Imusetothedog,whosecurious,excitedgazeisgluedoutthewindow.Eachtimethewindtickleshernose,shereleasesahigh-pitchedyip.Shederivesjoyfromthesimplestpleasures.
Intown,Igrabafewcasesofbeer,alongwithabottleoftequilaandsomesnacks.AsIstowmypurchasesinthecab,someonecallsmyname.
IturntoseeTatestridingdownthesidewalktowardme.He’sholdingaviatorsunglassesinonehand,andhiskeysandphoneintheother.
“Hey,”Igreethim.“How’sitgoing?”
“Good.I’mmeetingWyattatSharkey’sforlunchifyouwanttotagalong.”
“Yeah,I’min.”ThelastthingIfeellikedoingrightnowisgoinghomeandcleaningupthemessEvanleft.“LemmegrabDaisy.”
“Oh,hellyes,”Tatesayswhenhenoticesthedog’sheadpokingoutthepassengerwindow.“Bringthechickmagnet.”
MostofthebarsandrestaurantsintheBayaredogfriendly—particularlySharkey’s,wherethestaffbringsoutwaterbowlsandtreatsforcanineguests.OnceTateandIclimbthericketywoodstaircaseuptothesecondfloorofthebar,Daisyistreatedlikethequeenshethinkssheis.
“Ohmygoodness!”thewaitressupfrontexclaims,puredelightinhereyes.“Lookatthiscutie!What’shername?”
“Daisy,”Tateanswersforme,thentakestheleashfrommyhandasiftoclaimownershipofthepuppy.“Andyouare?”
“Jessica,”chirpsthewaitress.Nowshe’sallstarry-eyed,becauseshenoticesTate’sgolden-boylooks.Dudehastheinfallibleabilitytodazzleeverywomanhemeets.
Thisisn’ttosayIdon’tattractmyfairshareofattention.It’sjustadifferentkindofattention.
WhenwomenlookatTate,they’restruckwithromanticnotionsofweddingsandbabies.
Withme,theyseeraw,dirtysex.Joke’sonthem,though.TateisthebiggestslutintheBay.Jessicamustbenewintown,otherwiseshe’dbewellawareofthisfact.
“Letmeshowyoutoyourtable,”Jessicasays,andthenshe,Tate,andmydogsaunteroff.
Withagrin,Itrailafterthem,silentlybettingthatTatewillhavesecuredhernumberbeforeweevenpickupourmenus.
Ilose.Hedoesn’tgetituntilshedeliversourwaters.
“Goodjob,partner,”TatetellsDaisy,who’ssittingathisfeetandgazingupathimadoringly.
Wyattarrivesabouttenminuteslater.SinceRenisn’twithhim,Iassumethey’restillbrokenup.
“NoRen?”Tatewrinkleshisforehead.“Shehasn’ttakenyoubackyet?”
“Nope.”AftergreetingDaisywithapatonthehead,Wyattplopshimselfonthestoolacrossfrommeandgrabsamenu.Thenhesetsitdownwithoutreadingit.“WhoamIkidding?WeallknowI’mgettingthefishsandwich.”
“What’stakingRensolongtoforgiveyou?”Tateasks,grinning.“Yourepicreunionsusuallyhappenfairlyfast.”
“She’sdraggingitoutthistime,”Wyattcomplains.“ShewentoutwithsomemeatheadfromhergymlastnightandsentmeaselfieofthemwatchingTheBachelorettetogetherbecausesheknewit’dpissmeoff.”
Iraiseaneyebrow.“Whywouldthatpissyouoff?”
“Becauseit’sourfavoriteshow,dickhead.She’sgoddamnTV-cheatingonmewithaguywhowearsmeshtanktops.”
Tatesnickers.“AreyoumoreupsetaboutthefactthatRen’swatchingadumbrealityshowwithoutyou,orthatshemightbebangingagymbro?”
Wyattwaveshishand.“She’snotbanginghim.It’sjustrevengedating.LikewhenIwentoutwiththatchickwhoworksatthesurfschoolafterRenthrewoutallmybandshirtswithoutasking.”
“Didn’tyouendupscrewingthesurfschoolchick?”Tatesaysinconfusion.
Wyattstaresathim.“Thatwasyou,dumbass.”
Afterafewsecondsofpensiverecollection,Tatenodsdecisively.“Ohyeah.You’reright.”Hegrins.“Thatchickwaswild.SheconvincedmetotryViagraforthefirsttime.Longnight.”
Laughtersputtersfrommythroat.
“YoutookViagrawithoutme,bro?”Wyattaccuses.
Ilaughevenharder.“Sincewhenisitateamactivity?”IhowlatWyatt.
JessicareturnstotakeourfoodordersandproceedstoflirtshamelesslywithTate.“Doesthiscutielikewalks?”
Hewinks.“Thiscutieloveswalks.”
“Imeantthedog.”
“SodidI,”hesaysinnocently.
“I’moffinaboutanhour.Whydon’tyouandDaisymeetmeonthebeachonceyou’redoneeatingandIclockout?”
BeforeIcanremindTatethatDaisyisn’thisdog,heflasheshisdimplesatthewaitressandsays,“It’sadate.”
AsJessicasauntersoff,Irollmyeyes.“Areyouseriouslyusingmypuppytogetlaid?”
“Ofcourse.Itoldyou,puppiesarechickmagnets.”Heshovesastrandofhairoffhisforehead.“Justletmeborrowherforafewhours,dude.YouknowI’mgoodwithdogs.I’vegotthreeathome.”
“Fine.ButI’mnothangingaroundtownonyouraccount.Dropheroffatmyplacelater.Herdinnertime’satfive.Don’tbelate,asshole.”
Tategrins.“Yes,Dad.”
“YouthinkifIhadDaisywithmewhenIgotoseeRen,I’dhaveabettershotatwinningherback?”Wyattasksthoughtfully.
“Definitely,”Tatesays.
Wyatt’sheadswivelstowardme.“CanIborrowhertomorrow?”
Myfriendsareidiots.
Thenagain,soamI.BecausewhenmyphonebuzzesandMac’snameflashesonthescreen,Idon’tdothesmartthingandignorethecall.
Ianswerit.CHAPTERTWENTY
MACKENZIE
ThesummerafterIgraduatedhighschool,ItraveledaloneinEurope.Apresentfrommyparents.IhadjustwalkedbacktotheColosseumfromVaticanCitywhen,inasortofburstofmanicimpulsiveness,Imarchedrightpastmyhoteltothetrainstation.Ididn’tknowwhereIwasheaded.Isimplyboughtafirst-classticketonthenexttrain,whichhappenedtobegoingtoFlorence.Fromthere,Bologna.Milan.Then,throughSwitzerland,France,andSpain.TwodaysafterleavingItaly,IcalledmyhoteltohavethemsendmyluggagetoBarcelona.
Tothisday,Idon’tknowwhatpossessedme.Asudden,urgentneedtobreakfree,togetlost.TodisrupttheorderofmylifeandprovetomyselfIwasaliveandincontrolofmyowndestiny.WhichistosayIdon’trememberdecidingtocallCooper,onlythatonedayafterPrestonshotdownmyhotelfantasy,twoweekssinceI’dkissedCooperandtoldhimnevertocontactmeagain,andfifteenminutesafterwehangup,he’sstandingbesidemeontheboardwalkstaringatthedilapidatedexteriorofTheBeaconHotel.
“Youjust…boughtit?”Bemused,Cooperrakesahandthroughhisdarkhair.
I’mmomentarilydistractedbyhistannedforearm,hisdefinedbiceps.He’swearingablackT-shirt.Jeansthathanglowonhiships.ItfeelslikeI’mseeinghimforthefirsttimealloveragain.Ihadn’tforgottenwhatthesightofhimdoestome,butit’smorepotentnowthatmytolerancehaswaned.Myheartbeatsfasterthanusual,mypalmsaredamper,mymouthdrier.
“Well,there’spaperworkandduediligence.Butifthatgoeswell…”
I’mmorenervousnowthanwhenImadetheoffertoLydia.ThanwhenIshowedPreston.Forsomereason,IneedCoopertobehappyforme,andIdidn’trealizehowmuchuntilthismoment.
“Canwelookaround?”
Hegivesnothingaway.Notboredomordisapproval.Notexcitementeither.Webarelysaidhelloanddidn’tmentionawordaboutourkissesorourfight.JustHey,so,um,I’mbuyingahotel.Whatdoyouthink?Ihavenoideawhyheevenshoweduptomeetmehere.
“Sure,”Isay.“Theinspectorsaidthegroundlevelisstable.Weshouldn’tgoupstairs,though.”
Togetherwetourtheproperty,steppingoverstorm-tossedfurnitureandmoldycarpets.Someinteriorroomsareinnearlyperfectcondition,whilebeach-viewroomsarelittlemorethanemptycarcassesexposedtotheelements,wherethewallshavecollapsedandstormsurgeslongagosuckedeverythingouttosea.Thekitchenlookslikeitcouldbeup
“Whatareyourplansforit?”heasksaswepeekbehindthefrontdesk.Anold-fashionedguestbook,withthewordsTheBeaconHotelembossedonitscoverwithgoldlettering,isstilltuckedonashelfwiththewallofroomkeys.Somescattered,othersstillontheirhooks.
“Thepreviousownerhadonedemand:Don’ttearitdownandputupanuglyhigh-rise.”
“Icamehereallthetimeasakid.EvanandIwouldusethepool,hangoutinthebeachcabanasuntilwewerechasedout.Stephworkedhereafewsummersduringhighschool.Irememberalltheoldhardwood,thebrassfixtures.”
“Iwanttoentirelyrestoreit,”Itellhim.“Salvageasmuchaspossible.Sourcevintageantiquesfortherestofit.”
Heletsoutalowwhistle.“It’dbeexpensive.We’retalkingaboutcherryfurniturethat’llhavetobecustomreplicated.Handmadelightfixtures.Therearestonefloortilesandcountertopsinheretheydon’tevenmakeanymoreexceptinsmallbatches.”
Inod.“AndIalreadyknowtheelectricalisoutofcode.Allthedrywallhastocomeout.”
“ButIseeit.”Hewandersthroughthelobbytowardthegrandstaircase,whereherunshishandovertheintricatelycarvedbannister.“Withtherighttouch,andenoughmoney,it’sgotpotential.”
“Really?”
“Ohyeah.Teemingwithpotential.”
“Iknowthissoundsdumb,”Isay,takingaseatatthefootofthestairs,“butwhenIfirstseteyesonthisplace,Ihadthisimageinmyhead.Guestssittingontheverandainrockingchairs,sippingwine,andwatchingthetiderollin.Isawitsoclearly.”
“It’snotdumb.”Coopersitsbesideme.
Ifeelnoanimosityfromhim,asifwe’realmostfriendsagain.Exceptforthesamemagnetictugbeggingmetorunmyfingersthroughhishair.
“WhenIputasalvagedpieceofwoodonmybench,Idon’thaveaplanforwhatit’llbe.Ijustsitwithit.Waitforittoexpressitself.Thenitpracticallybuildsitselfinmymind,andI’mfollowingalong.”
Ibitemylip.“Myparentsaren’tgoingtobehappyaboutthis.”
Latelyitdoesn’ttakemuchtosetmyfatheroff.Mostofitisworkstress,butitseemsasifhe’sengagedinconstantbattleaboutonethingoranother.ProbablywhereIgetmycombativeside.Thingis,whenthebattlesendbadly,hisfrustrationtendstomanifestinbeingloudlydisappointedinme.
“Whothehellcares?”Cooperscoffs
“Yeah,easyforyoutosay.”
“Imeanit.Sincewhendoyoucareaboutwhatanyoneelsehastosay?”
“Youdon’tunderstandhowharditistogetoutfromundertheirthumb.Theyrunpracticallyeverypartofmylife.”
“Becauseyouletthem.”
“No,but—”
“Look.InthetimeI’veknownyou,you’vemostlybeenastubborn,opinionatedpainintheass.”
Ilaugh,admittingtomyselfthatmostofourconversationshavedevolvedintostalematearguments.“It’snotmyfaultyou’realwayswrong.”
“Watchit,Cabot,”hesayswithaplayfullythreateningglare.“Seriously,though.You’vegotyourshittogetherbetterthanmostpeopleIknow.Tohellwithyourparentsapproving.Beyourownperson.”
“Youdon’tknowthem.”
“Idon’thavetoknowthem.Iknowyou.”Heturnstofacemefully,levelingmewithseriouseyes.“Mac,youareaforcetobereckonedwith.Youdon’ttakeshit,youtakenames.Don’tforgetthat.”
Damnit.Fuckingdamnit.
“Whydoyouhavetodothat?”Imutter,gettingtomyfeet.Ican’tcontrolmymuscles.Ihavetomove,findsomeair.
“Dowhat?”Hegetsup,followingmeasIpacetheroom.
“Beso…”Igestureincoherentlyinhisdirection.“Likethat.”
“You’velostme.”
It’seasierwhenhe’sbeingadick.Flirting,comingonstrong.Arguingwithmeandcallingmeprincess.It’seasiertodismisshimasjustanotherhotguywithtoomuchattitude,someonenottobetakenseriously.Thenhe’sallsweetandkindandgetsmyheadmessedup.Dragsmyheartintoit,kickingandscreaming.
“Don’tbenicetome,”Iblurtoutinfrustration.“It’sconfusing.”
“Yeah,well,Iwasalittleconfusedwhenyouwerescrapingyournailsdownmyback,buthey,Iwentwithit.”
“Good,”Isay,spinningtopointathim.“Dothat.ThatIcanworkwith.Ihandleyoubetterwhenyou’reaprick.”
“Sothat’swhatitis?You’reafraidtogiveadamnbecausethenyoucan’tkeeplyingtoyourselfaboutus?”
“Thereisnous,”Ishootback.“Wekissed.Bigdeal.”
“Twice,princess.”
“Anditwentsowellwedidn’ttalkfortwoweeks.”
“Hey,youcalledme.”Defiant,hestaresmedown.Adare.
“AndIseenowitwasamistake.”
Grittingmyteeth,Istalkforward,mysightssetonthearcheddoorwayleadingtotheexit.ButthatrequireswalkingpastCooper,whoreachesformywaistbeforeIcansidestephim.
IntheblinkofaneyeI’minhisarms,pressedtightagainsthischest.Ifeeleverywarm,solidinchofhimagainstmybody.Silencedescendsashetipshisheadtolookdownatme.Mybreathcatches.IforgetwhoIwasbeforeImethim.Inthisbubble,inthisquietplacewherenoonewillfindus,wecanbeentirelyourselves.
“Well…”Iwhisper,waitingforhimtosaysomething,dosomething.Anything.Theanticipationiskillingme,andIthinkheknowsit.
“Youcanleaveanytimeyouwant,”hesaysroughly.
“Iknow.”Still,myfeetdon’tmove.Myheartbeatsabarrageagainstmyribcage.I’msuffocating,butallIwanttodoissinkdeeperintohisarms.
Ishiverwhenhisthumblightlycaressesmysideoverthethinfabricofmyloosewhiteshirt.Thenthelighttouchbecomesstrongfingerscurlingovermyhip,andmykneeswobble.I’msmokeinhisarms.Idon’tfeelsolid.
“Whatarewedoing,Mac?”Hisdeep,darkeyespenetrateme.
“Ithoughtyouknew.”
Urgently,hislipscovermine.Hisfingersbiteintomyhipasminesnakeintohishairandpullhimtowardme.Thekissishungry,desperate.Whenhistongueprodsattheseamofmylips,seekingentry,Iwhimperquietlyandgivehimwhathewants.OurtonguesmeetandInearlykeeloveragain.
“It’sokay,Igotyou,”Cooperwhispers,andbeforeIknowwhat’shappening,I’moffmyfeet,legswrappedaroundhim.
HewalksusbackwarduntilI’mpressedintotheexposedconcreteofacrackedwall.He’shardagainstme.Ican’tfightthewaveofinsistentarousalthatcompelsmetogrindmyselfagainsthim,seekingthefrictionthatwillunleashthisknotofrepressedlongingthat’ssattautinsidemeforweeks.Thisisn’tme.I’mnotthegirlwholoseshermindoveraguy,whogetstangledupinmidafternooninterludesofsemi-public,semi-sexualexploits.Andyethereweare,mouthsfused,bodiesstrainingtogetcloser.
“Fuck,”hegroans.Hishandsfindtheirwayundermyshirt,callusedfingersdippingbeneaththecupsofmybra.
Themomentheteasesmynipples,it’slikesomeone’sopenedthecurtainsinapitch-blackroom.Startlingasblindingsunlightpouringthrough.
“Ican’t,”Iwhisperagainsthislips.
RightawayCooperpullsbackandsetsmeonmyfeet.“What’swrong?”
Hislipsarewet,swollen.Hishairwild.AdozenfantasiesrushthroughmymindasIstruggletoslowmybreathing.Thewallatmybackistheonlythingkeepingmeupright.
“Istillhaveaboyfriend,”Isayasanapology.BecausealthoughImightnotbehappywithPrestonatthemoment,wehaven’tofficiallybrokenup.
“Areyouserious?”Cooperstormsawaybeforeturningtostareatmewithexasperation.“Wakeup,Mackenzie.”Hethrowshishandsup.“You’reasmartgirl.Howareyouthisblind?”
Myeyebrowscrashtogetherinconfusion.“Whatisthatsupposedtomean?”
“Yourboyfriendischeatingonyou,”hespitsout.
“What?”
“Iaskedaround.Fortwoyears,everyoneintheBayhasseenthatassholescrewingeverythingthatmoves.”
Anangryscowltwistsmymouth.“You’relying.”
He’spickedthewronggirlifhethinksI’mfallingforsuchanobviousploy.He’sonlysayingthisbecausehewantstogetinmypants,tomakemefuriousenoughatPrestonthatI’llgiveintotheundeniableattractionbetweenus.Well,Cooperdoesn’tevenknowPreston.Ifhedid,he’dunderstandthatPresisthelastonewho’dberunningaroundwithrandomhookups.
“You’dloveitifIwas.”Cooperapproachesme,visiblyseething.I’mnotsurewhichoneofusismorepissedoffatthispoint.“Faceit,princess.YourPrinceCharmingpullsmoreassthanabarstool.”
Somethingcomesoverme.
Blind,hotrage.
Islaphim.Hard.Sohardmyhandstings.
Thecrackechoesthroughtheemptyhotel.
Atfirsthejuststaresatme.Shocked.Angry.
Thenalow,mockinglaughslidesoutofhisthroat.“Youknowwhat,Mac?Believemeordon’tbelieveme.”Hechucklesagain.Araspy,darkwarning.“Eitherway,I’llbetheonewatchingsmuglyfromthesidelineswhenyou’refinallyhitwithadoseofreality.”CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
MACKENZIE
Cooper’saccusationagainstPrestontormentsmeforthenexttwenty-fourhours.Itcloudsmymind,poisonsmythoughts.Idon’tpayalickofattentionduringmyMondayclasses.Instead,IrunCooper’swordsoverandoveragaininmyhead,alternatingbetweenanger,uneasiness,anddoubt.
FortwoyearseveryoneintheBayhasseenthatassholescrewingeverythingthatmoves.
Faceit,princess.YourPrinceCharmingpullsmoreassthanabarstool.
Washetellingthetruth?Ihavenoreasontotrusthim.Hecouldhavemadetheallegationmerelytogetundermyskin.It’swhathe’sgoodat.
Thenagain,whatreasondoeshehavetolie?EvenifIdumpedPreston,thatdoesn’tmeanI’drunstraightintoCooper’sarms.
Doesit?
WhenIgotbacktothedormyesterdayafterourfight,IhadtoforcemyselfnottocallPrestonandlayeverythingontheline.Askquestionsanddemandanswers.I’mstillpissedathimforhowhereactedtomyhotel.Pissedattherealizationthathedoesn’ttakemeseriouslyasabusinesswoman,andatthewayheflatlylaidoutafuturethatrobsmeofallagency.
IalreadyhadplentyofreasonstoquestionmyrelationshipwithPrestonbeforeCooperlobbedthoseaccusations.Now,I’mevenmoreofamess.Mymindismush,myinsidestwistedintoknots.
Ileavethelecturehallwithmyheaddown,notstoppingtomakesmalltalkwithanyofmyclassmates.Outside,Iinhalethefreshair,nowcrispandabitcooler,asfallbeginstomakeitsappearanceafteranextendedsummer.
Myphonebuzzesinmycanvasshoulderbag.Ireachforit,findingatextfromBonnieaskingifIwanttomeetforlunch.Myroommatehastheuncannyabilitytoreadmymind,soItellherIhavetostudy,thenfindanemptybenchinthequadandpulloutmylaptop.
Ineedadistraction,anescapefrommychaoticthoughts.Makingplansforthehotelprovidesthatrespite.
Forthenextfewhours,IscourtheinternetfortheresourcesIneedtogetstartedonthisproject.Imakealistofcontractors,contactingeachonetorequestasitevisit,sotheycangivemehardestimatesabouthowmuchit’llcosttogetthebuildinguptocode.Iresearchcountyordinancesandpermitregulations.Watchacouplevideosaboutcommercialplumbingandelectricalinstallations.Readuponthelatestinhurricane-proofconstructionandpricinginsurancepolicies.
It’s…alot.
MymothercallsasI’mslidingthelaptopbackinmybagandgettinguptostretchmylegs.Sittingonawroughtironbenchforthreehoursdidanumberonmymuscles.
“Mom,hey,”Igreether.
Skippingthepleasantries,shegetsrighttothepoint.“Mackenzie,yourfatherandIwouldliketotakeyouandPrestontodinnerthisevening—howisseveno’clock?”
Iclenchmyteeth.Theirsenseofentitlementisgratingashell.She’sactingasifIhaveachoiceinthematter,whenwebothknowthat’snotthecase.
“Idon’tknowifPrestonisfree,”Isaytightly.I’vebeenavoidinghimfortwodays,eversinceheshotdownmydreamsandtoldmeIwasirresponsibleandimmature.
Thememoryofhisharsh,condescendingwordsreignitesmyangerathim.No.NowayamIbringinghimtodinnertonightandriskingahugefightinfrontofmyparents.I’vealreadyslappedoneguy.Besttonotmakeittwo.
Butmymotherthrowsawrenchinthat.“YourfatheralreadyspoketoPreston.Hesaidhe’shappytojoinus.”
Mymouthfallsopeninshock.Seriously?Theymadearrangementswithmyboyfriendbeforecallingme,theirowndaughter?
Momgivesmenotimetoobject.“We’llseeyouatseven,sweetheart.”
Themomentshedisconnects,IscrambletocallPreston.Heanswersonthefirstring.
“Hey,babe.”
Hey,babe?Isheforrealrightnow?I’vebeenignoringhiscallsandtextssinceSaturdayafternoon.OnSundaymorning,whenhethreatenedtoshowupatmydorm,ItextedthatIneededsomespaceandwouldcallhimwhenIwasready.
Andnowhe’shey,babeingme?
DoeshenotrealizehowmadIam?
“I’mgladyoufinallycalled.”Hisaudibleremorseconfirmshedoesrecognizemyunhappiness.“Iknowyou’restillsoreoverourlittlespat,soIwastryingtogiveyousomespacelikeyouasked.”
“Really?”Isaybitterly.“Isthatwhyyouagreedtohavedinnerwithmyparentswithoutevenconsultingme?”
“WouldyouhavepickedupthephoneifIcalled?”hecounters.
Goodpoint.
“Besides,Iliterallyjusthungupwithyourdad.YoucalledbeforeIhadachancetocallyoufirst.”
“Fine.Whatever.ButIdon’twanttogotonight,Preston.AfterwhathappenedSaturdayatthehotel,Ireallydoneedthatspace.”
“Iknow.”Thenoteofregretinhisvoicesoundssincere.“Ireactedpoorly,Ican’tdenythat.Butyouhavetounderstand—youthrewmeforatotalloop.ThelastthingIexpectedwasbeingtoldyou’dgoneandboughtahotel.Itwasalottotakein,Mac.”
“Igetthat.ButyouspoketomelikeIwasadisobedientchild.Doyouevenrealizehowhumiliating—”Istop,drawingacalmingbreath.“No.Idon’twanttorehashthisrightnow.Wedoneedtotalk,butnotnow.AndIcan’tdodinner.Ijustcan’t.”
There’sabriefpause.
“Mackenzie.Webothknowyou’renotgoingtotellyourparentsyoucan’tgo.”
Yeah.
He’sgotmethere.
“Pickmeupatquartertoseven,”Imutter.
BackatTallyHall,Isteamasuitabledressmymomwon’tside-eyeandmakemyselfpresentable.Idecideonanavyboatneckthat’sjustonthesluttysideofmodest.Mysilentprotestagainsthavingmyeveninghijacked.AssoonasPrestonpicksmeupfrommydorm,hesuggestsIputonacardigan.
Isitinsilenceonthedriveovertothefancynewsteakhousenearcampus.Prestonissmartenoughnottopushmetotalk.
Attherestaurant,we’regivenaprivateroom,thankstomydad’sassistantcallingahead.Onthewayin,Daddoeshisusualgrip-and-grinwithvoters,thenposesforapicturewiththemanagerthat’llendupframedonthewallandruninthelocalpapertomorrow.Evendinnerbecomesamajoraffairwhenmyfathershowsup,allbecausehisegoisn’tcontenttoanonymouslyeatoutwithhisfamily.Meanwhile,mymotherstandstotheside,handsclaspedpolitelyinfrontofher,aplasticsmileonherface.Ican’ttellifshestilllovesthisstufforiftheBotoxmeansshefeelsnothinganymore.
Besideme,Prestonhasstarsinhiseyes.
Throughcocktailsandappetizers,myfathergoesonaboutsomenewspendingbill.Ican’tfinditinmetoevenfeigninterestasIpushmybeetsaladaroundmyplate.Prestonengageshimwithaneagernessthat,forsomereasontonight,isgettingonmylastnerve.I’dalwaysappreciatedPreston’sabilitytochatupmyparents,takesomeoftheburdenoffmeatthesethings.Theylovehim,sobringinghimalongkeepstheminagoodmood.Butrightnow,I’mfindinghimincrediblyannoying.
ForafleetingmomentIconsiderpluckingupthecouragetobreakthenewstomyparents—Guesswhat!Iboughtahotel!ButasMomstartsonhowshecan’twaituntilIgetmoreinvolvedwithhercharities,I’mconvincedtheywon’treactanybetterthanPrestondid.
“Iwashopingyou’dletmetakeMackenziealongtoEuropethissummer,”Prestonsaysastheentréesarrive.“Myfather’sfinallybowedtothepressureandagreedtotakemymothershoppingforanewvacationhome.We’resailingtheyachtalongthecoastfromSpaintoGreece.”
Thisisnewstome.I’mprettysurethere’sbeennorecentdiscussionofmysummerplans,andeveniftherehasbeen,thatwasbeforeIhadahoteltorestore.PrestonknowsdamnwellIcan’tleaveAvalonBaythissummer.
Ormaybehe’sconfidenthecantalkhisimmature,irresponsible,wife-materialgirlfriendintonotgoingthroughwiththepurchase.
Bitternesscoatsmythroat.Igulpitdownwithabiteofmylemonandgarlicinfusedsole.
“Doesn’tthatsoundmarvelous,”mymomsays,withtheslightestedgetohervoice.
Oneofhergreatestresentmentsoverherhusband’scareer—notthatshehasn’tenjoyedtheprivilegeofbeingacongressman’swife—isherenforcedpovertyofonlytwodomesticvacationhomeswhenallherfriendsarealwaysskippingofftotheirprivatechaletsinZermattorvillasinMallorca.Dadsaysitisn’tagoodlookforthemtoflaunttheirwealthwhileonthetaxpayers’dime—evenifthevastmajorityofthefamilymoneycomesfrominheritanceandthecorporationmyfathersteppeddownfromtorunforoffice,thoughhestillsitsontheboard.Butattentioninvitesquestions,andDadhatesthose.
“Shedoesputupwithalotfromhim,”Prestonjokes,grinningatmymother.“Sodoesthisone.”Henodsatmeandfindsmyhandunderthetabletosqueeze.
Ishrughishandoffandreachformywaterglassinstead.
Mypatienceisatanall-timelow.Iusedtobesogoodattuningouttheseconversations.Blowingthemoffasharmlessbantertokeepmyparentshappy.AslongasPrestonkeptthementertainedandeveryonegotalong,mylifewasinfinitelyeasier.Now,itseemsthestatusquoisn’tdoingitformeanymore.
“Whatareyourplansaftergraduationnextyear?”mydadasksPreston.He’sbarelysaidtwowordstomeallnight.AsifI’manexcusetoseetheirrealchild.
“Myfatherwantsmeathisbank’sheadquartersinAtlanta.”
“That’llbequitethechangeofpace,”Dadsays,cuttingintohisbloodysteak.
“I’mlookingforwardtothechallenge.Iintendtolearneverythingaboutthefamilybusinessfromthebottomup.Howthemailgetsprocessedtoacquisitionsandmergers.”
“Tohowtheregulationsgetpassed,”myfatheradds.“Weshouldsetsomethingupfornextterm.HaveyouattheCapitol.Therearesomeimportantpiecesoflegislationupforcommittee—it’dbeaninvaluablelearningexperiencetositinonthosehearings.Seehowthesausagegetsmade,asitwere.”
“Soundsgreat,”Prestonsays,beaming.“I’dappreciatethat,sir.”
NeveroncehasmyfatherofferedtohavemeouttoWashingtonforatake-your-daughter-to-workday.TheonlytimeIeversteppedfootinsidetheCapitolbuildingwasforaphotoop.WhenDadwasswornin,Iwasusheredintoaroomwiththeotherfreshmanfamilies,posed,andwaspromptlyshovedoutthedoor.Theotherne’er-do-wellcongressionalkidsandIendeduprunningamokthroughthebarsandclubsofDC,untilsomesenator’skidstartedroughingupadiplomatbratanditturnedintoashowdownbetweenSecretServiceandforeignsecurityforces.
“It’sashameyouandMackenzieonlyhaveoneyeartogetheratGarnetbeforeyou’llbeseparatedagain.ButIknowyou’llmakeitwork,”Momchimesin.
“Actually,”Prestonsays,“MackenziewillbejoiningmeinAtlanta.”
Iwill?
“Garnetoffersafullonlinecurriculumtofinishherdegreesoshewon’thavetotransferschools,”hecontinues.“It’sonlyashortflightfromAtlantaifsheshouldneedtovisitcampusforanyreason.”
Whatthefuck?
IgawkatPreston,butheeitherdoesn’tnoticeordoesn’tcare.Myparents,too,areoblivioustomyrisingdistress.
“Thatisanexcellentsolution,”DadtellsPreston.
Momnodsincompleteagreement.
WhyamIevenhereifmyparticipationintheconversation,inmylife,isentirelysuperfluous?I’mlittlemorethananornament,apieceoffurnituretheymovefromroomtoroom.Thesearemyparents.Myboyfriend.Thepeoplewho,ostensibly,carethemostaboutmeintheworld.
YetIfeelcompletelyinvisible.Andnotforthefirsttime.
Astheychatterthroughthemaincourse,oblivioustomyexistentialcrisis,Isuddenlyseethenextfive,ten,twentyyearsofmylifeclosinginonme.
Lessafuturethanathreat.
Moreasentencethananopportunity.
Butthenitoccurstome.I’mnotachildanymore.Idon’thavetobehere.Infact,there’sabsolutelynothingholdingmeinthisseat.MymindwandersbacktothatlunchwithPreston’sfriends,howthegirlsweresoacceptingofSeb’sapparentforaysintoextracurricularfellatio.Andthenlater,thewayPrestonsoeasilyforgavemeformyownindiscretion.Thecluesalignthemselvesandthepicturebecomesclear.
Sofuckingclear.
Pushingmyplateaway,Itossmynapkinonthetableandscrapemychairback.
Mymotherlooksup,frowningslightly
“I’msorry,”Iannouncetothetable.“Ihavetogo.”
Withoutasecondofhesitation,Iboltforthedoorbeforeanyonehasachancetoprotest.Outsidetherestaurant,ItrytocamouflageintheshrubberynearthevaletstandasIhurriedlycallforacab,butmyhidingspotsucksandPrestonspotsmethemomenthestalksoutside.
“Whatthehellwasthat?”hedemands.
Idrawaslowbreath.“Idon’twanttoarguewithyou.Gobackinside,Pres.I’mdonehere.”
“Keepyourvoicedown.”Shushingme,hegrabsmyelbowanddragsmearoundthecorner,outofearshot,likeI’machildgettingscolded.“Whatthehellhasgottenintoyou?”
Iyankmyarmfromhisgrasp.“Ican’tdothisanymore.You,them—allofit.I’msooveritI’mburstingwithapathy.That,inthere,wasmespendingmyverylastfuck.”
“Haveyoucompletelylostyourmind?”Prestonstaresatme,incensed.“That’swhatthisis—thistantrum,thehotelnonsense.It’sstress.Thestressoffreshmanyearisgettingtoyou.You’recrackingunderthepressure.”Hestartsnodding.“Iunderstand.Wecangetyouhelp,sendyoutoaspaorsomething.I’msurewecanmakearrangementswiththedeantofinishyoursemester—”
“Aspa?”Ican’thelpit.Ierupt,laughinginhisface.Inthismoment,Idon’tthinkhe’severknownmeless
Henarrowshiseyesatmymockinglaughter.
“Thisisn’tstress.It’sclarity.”Myhumorfading,Imeethisgaze.“You’recheatingonme,Preston.”
Hefrowns.“Andwhotoldyouthat?”
That’shisresponse?IfI’ddoubteditbefore,I’mnotdoubtingitnow.Hecan’tevenbebotheredtomusterupadenial?
“Areyousayingit’snottrue?”Ichallenge.“Thatyouaren’tjustlikeyourbuddySebastian,sleepingaroundwithgirlsthataren’t‘wifematerial’whilepledginghisundyinglovetoChrissy?Chrissy,whodoesn’tevencarethathe’ssleepingaround.”Ishakemyheadincredulously.“Lookmeintheeyeandtellmeyou’renotlikethat.”
“I’mnotlikethat.”
Buthedoesn’tlookmeintheeye.
Ibarkoutaharshlaugh.“That’swhyyouweren’tatalldisturbedbySeb’sactions,right,Preston?Becauseyou’reexactlylikehim.Andyouknowwhat’sfunny?I’mnotevenmad.Ishouldbe,”Itellhim,becausethere’splentyofangerfromallthewayshe’sdisrespectedmetonight.“Ishouldbepissed.ButIrealizedtonightthatIdon’tcareanymore.”
“Youcan’tbreakupwithme,”hesayssternly,asifhe’stellingmeIcan’thavecandybecauseit’llrotmyteeth.
“Iam.Idid.”
“ForgetwhateveritisyouthinkI’vedone.That’sjustextracurricularbullshit—”
There’sthatwordagain.
“Ithasnothingtodowithourrelationship.Iloveyou,Mackenzie.Andyoulovemetoo.”
Foryears,I’veconfusedwhatwehadforlove.IdolovePreston.OratleastIdid,atsomepoint.Itstartedthatway.I’msureofit.Butwewereneverinlove.Imistookboredomforcomfortandcomfortforromance.BecauseIdidn’tknowwhattruepassionwas.Ididn’tknowwhatIwasmissing,howit’ssupposedtofeelwhenyoucan’tcontainyourself,whendesireforanotherpersonconsumesyousocompletely,whenyourappreciationandaffectionforthemistotalandunconditional.
“Stopit,Mackenzie.”Oops.Nowhe’spissed.Imightbesenttomyroomwithnodessert.“You’rethrowingatempertantrumanditisn’tcute.Comebackinside.Apologizetoyourparents.We’llforgetthiswholethingeverhappened.”
“Youdon’tgetit.I’vemadeupmymind.I’mdone.”
“No,you’renot.”
Ididn’twanttoresorttothenuclearoption,buthe’sgivenmenochoice.“There’ssomeoneelse.”
“Whatthefuck?Who?”hesnaps,angerreddeninghisface.
Mycabpullsuptothecurb.ThankGod.
“Youdon’tgettoknow,”Isaycoolly.“AndnowI’mleaving.Don’tfollowme.”
Forthefirsttimetonight,helistens.CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
MACKENZIE
Fifteenminuteslater,I’mstandingatCooper’sfrontdoor.IthinkIknewwhenIleftthedinnertablewhereIwasgoingtoendup.Iknew—whenIwalkedawayfromCooperyesterday,whenIspenthoursspinninghiswordsoverinmyhead,rememberingourhungrykisses—thatifIfoundmywaybackhereagain,itwouldbewithapurpose.
Whenheopensthedoor,Ialmostlosemynerve.He’swearingaT-shirtandrippedjeans.Hairdampasifhejustshowered.Hislooks,hisbody,histattoosarepuretemptation.Ihatethathedoesn’thavetodoanything,sayanything,togetmeallsidewaysandmessedup.Itisn’tfair.
“Hey.”Iswallowagainstthesuddenonsetofdrymouth.
Hestaresmedownhardwithoutaword.Iexpectedanger.Maybetobechasedoffwithawarningnottoshowmyfaceinthesepartsagain.
Thisisworse.
“Look,Icametoapologize.”
“Thatright?”Coopertakesupthewholedoorway,strongarmsbracedoneitherside.
“Iwasoutofline,”Isayremorsefully.“Inevershouldhaveinsinuatedyouhaveherpes.PerpetuatingthestigmaofSTDsandslut-shamingiswrong,andI’msorry.”
Thoughhetrieshisbesttohideit,Coopercan’tentirelysmotherthesmirkthatpullsatthecornerofhismouth.Hedropshisarms.
“Fine,comein.”
Heleadsmethroughtheemptyhousetothelitbackdeckthatlooksoutontothebay.Neitherofusisquitesurehowtostart,sowebothleanagainsttherailing,pretendingtowatchthewavesthroughthedarkness.
“I’veneverslappedanyonebefore,”Iconfess,becauseit’smyresponsibilitytobreaktheice,andforsomereasonthisisharderthanIexpected.
“You’reprettygoodatit,”hesaysdryly.“Fuckinghurt.”
“Ifitmakesyoufeelanybetter,myhandwasstillsorewhenIwokeuptoday.Youhaveahardface.”
“Itdoesmakemefeelbetter,”hesayswithasmileinhisvoice.“Alittle.”
“Iamsorry.Iwayoverreactedandtotallylostit.Ifeltterribleaboutit.Istillfeelterrible.”
Coopershrugs.“Don’tsweatit.I’vehadworse.”
Partofmewantshimtolashout.TellmeI’mabratandaspoiledbitch.Buthe’ssocoolandcalm.Unreadable,givingnothingaway,whichmakesallofthisnearlyimpossible.BecauseforeverythingIlearnaboutCooper,Idon’tknowhimatall.SometimesIthinkwehaveaconnection,thenIgettothinkingaboutituntilIconvincemyselfI’veconcoctedtheentirethinginmyhead.Asifeverytimewemeet,I’mwakingupfromadreamandIdon’trememberwhat’sreal.
“WanttoaskmewhereIwastonight?”Idon’tknowwhyIsayitexceptthatIwanthimtoknowandcomingrightoutwithitseems…presumptuous?
Hecocksaneyebrow.
“Well,firstoff,Iwalkedoutonmyparents.”
“Isthebuildingstillstanding?”heasks,noteventryingtohidehisamusement.
“Uncertain.Isortofranoffinthemiddleofdinner.”Ipause.“KnowwhatelseIdid?”
“What’sthat?”
“Ibrokeupwithmyboyfriend.”
Thisgetshisattention.Heturnstoputhisbackagainsttherailingandfoldshisarms,attentive.
Cooperchuckles,shakinghishead.“There,nowitmakessense.You’reonthelamandyoufigured,wherebettertohideout?Nochanceanyonewillcomelookingforyouhere.AmIright?”
“Somethinglikethat,”Ianswersheepishly.Thatwasn’ttheexplicitthoughtinmindwhenIgavethecabdriverCooper’saddress,butitwascertainlyanunconsciousinstinct.
“Sohowlongdoyouplanonlyinglow?Nottobeadickaboutit,butI’mnotrunningahotelhere,princess.”
“Touché.”
Silenceengulfsus,louderthanthecrashingofthewavesagainsttheshore.
Thismorning,Iwokeupsweating.AsIblinkedagainstthesun,thefinalframesofCooperholdingmeagainstthewall—mylegswrappedaroundhiships,hishandsburningacrossmyskin—evaporatedwiththemorningdewonmywindowsill.WhatdoIdowiththat?Thesearenewfeelingsforme.I’veneverbeenthiswoundupoveraguy.Andyeah,okay,he’sshownsomeinteresttoo,butifhedoesn’tmakethenextmove,Idon’tknowwhatanyofthismeans.
“Partofmewisheswenevermet,”hefinallysays,shadowsplayingacrosshisfacefromthedecklights.
“Why’sthat?”Imean,besidestheobvious,Iguess.Ihavebeenamajorpainintheasstohimandprobablywaymoretroublethanit’sworth.
“Becausethisisgonnagetmessy.”Armsathissides,heclosesthesmallspacebetweenusuntilhe’sgotmepinnedagainsttherailingwithonlyhiseyes.
Somethinginhisexpressionshifts,andlikeasubliminalsignaltomysystem,I’msuddenlyalert.
“What’sgoing—”
BeforeIcanfinishthethought,hislipsareonmine.
Cagingmeagainsttherail,Cooperkissesmedeeply.Urgently.Thiswholetime,forweeks,we’veheldourbreathuntilthismoment.Relief.Ashishandsfindmyhipsandpressmeintothesplinteredwood,Iforgetmyself,consumedbylust.Ikisshimbacklikeastarvedwoman,moaningwhenhepartsmylegswithhisandIfeelhiserection.
“Tellmenow,”hemutters,runninghismouthdownmyneck.“Areyougoingtotellmetostop?”
Ishouldconsiderthequestion.Thefutureimplications.AllthewaysI’mcompletelyunpreparedforwhathappenswhenIwakeuptomorrowandsurveythedamageoftonight.
ButIdon’t.
“No,”Ianswer.“Don’tstop.”
Unleashed,Cooperdoesn’thesitate.Heyanksdownthefrontofmydressjustenoughtoexposemybreasts.Whenhewrapshislipsaroundonebuddednipple,therushofexcitement,theadrenalinesyringethroughmychest,isoverwhelming.I’madifferentpersonwithhim.Unbridled.Igrabhishandandpushitdownuntilhefindshiswayundermydress.Thenhisfingersarepullingawaymybikiniunderwear,slidingacrossmyclit,enteringme.
“Ahfuck,”hewhispersagainstthefeverishskinofmyneck.“Sowet.”
Twofingersmoveinsideme,whilehisthumbtendstothebundleofnervesthat’spulsingwithexcitement.Iholdontohisbroadshoulders,bitingmylipsohardItasteblood,untilmylegsareshakingthroughanorgasm.
“Mmm,that’smygirl.”Agrinappearsashebendstokissmylips,swallowingmygaspedbreaths.
Hiswordssendathrillshootingthroughme.Hisgirl.Iknowhedoesn’tmeanitthatway,justaturnofphrase,buttheideaofbeinghis,beingentirelyownedbyhimtonight,triggersafreshwaveofdesire.
Ihurrytoundothefrontofhisjeansandpullhimout,stroking.Hisansweringgroanismusictomyears.Hishandsslidedowntosqueezemyass,darkeyesglitteringwithheat.
“Let’sgoinside,”Iurge.
“I’vegotacondominmypocket.”HisvoiceishoarseasIholdhimthrobbinginmyhand.
“Really,why?”
“Let’snotaskthosequestions.”
Fair.UntilanhouragoIhadaboyfriend.WhateverCooperwasgettingupto,orabouttogetupto,isnoneofmybusiness.
Hetearsopenthecondomandslipsiton,thenhoistsoneofmylegsuparoundhiship.SuddenlyI’msittingontheledgeoftherailing,clingingtohimasheslowly,achinglyentersme.Ifheletmegorightnow,I’dtoppleovertherail.ButItrusthim.Isubmitcompletely,trustinghissteadygrip,welcomingthethick,hardlengthofhiminsideme.
“Youfeelsogood,Mac.”He’skissingmeagain.Thrustingdeep,makingmemindlesswithneed.
Awarmbreezesweepsthroughmyhair.Idon’tcarethatatanymomentwecouldbecaught.ThatIdon’tevenknowifhisbrotherishome.Thatsomeonemightbewatchingusfromamongthesilhouettesthatcirclethehouse.Idon’tcareaboutanythingbuttheforeignsensationscoursingthroughmybody,thisfeelingoffullness,rightness.WhenCooper’sfingerstangleinmyhairandtugmyheadbacktokissmythroat,nothingdistractsmefromhislong,deepthrustsandthewild,carnalneedthatdrivesusboth.
“Yougonnacomeagain?”hewhispersinmyear.
“Maybe.”
“Try.”
Hewithdrawsuntilonlyhistipremainsinme,thenplungesbackin.Hard,purposeful.Keepingonestrongarmwrappedaroundme,hebringshisotherhandbetweenmylegsandswipeshisfingersovermyclit.Igaspwithpleasure.
“Oh,keepdoingthat,”Iplead.
Hishuskychuckleticklesmymouthashebendshisheadtokissme.Hishipscontinuemoving,butslowernow,teasing,coaxingmebacktotheedge.Underhisdeliberateworshipingofmybody,itdoesn’ttakelongforthepleasuretoriseagain,totightenandknotandthenburstinablindingrush.
“Yes,”hehisses,andhistempospeedsup.Hethrustsintomewithabandonuntilhe’sgroaningfromhisownrelease,shuddering,pantingoutunsteadybreaths.
Iswallow,inhalingdeeplytotrytoregulatemyerraticheartbeat.“Thatwas…”Ihavenowords.
Hegruntsunintelligibly,alsoataloss.“Itwas…yeah.”
Laughingweakly,wedisentanglefromeachother.Iclumsilyslideofftherailing.Fixmydress.Coopertakesmyhand,leadingmeinside.
Afterashower,Iborrowsomeclothesfromhim,andwetakeDaisyoutonawalkalongthemoonlitbeach.Myfingersarestillalittlenumb,mylegsheavy.HewaseverythingIexpectedandbetter.Raw,zealous.
Now,I’mstruckbyhownotawkwarditis.I’dneverbeenwithanyoneexceptPreston,soIdidn’tknowwhattoexpectaftera…Idon’tknowwhatthisis.Ahookup?Atryst?Somethingwewon’treallytalkaboutinthemorning?Somehow,Idon’tcare.Fornow,we’regood.
Walkingbacktowardthehouse,CooperteasesDaisywithalongreed.
“Soyouwannaspendthenight?”heasksme.
“Yeah,okay.”
Startingnow,I’mnotoverthinkingit.Cleanslate.Startingfromscratch.
It’stimeIgettoenjoymyself.CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
COOPER
Myheadiswrecked.WakingupwithMacinmybed,myfirstthoughtistomakesomebaddecisionsalloveragain.ThenIrememberthatI’mindeeptrouble.Iwasallaboutitlastnightwhenshepracticallyjumpedonmydick.Butafterward,somethingreallymesseduphappened.Ididn’twanthertoleave.Istartedthinking,wellshit,whathappensifshegoeshomeandIgetanothergoddamntextlike,Sorry,mybad,ImadeamistakeandI’mgettingbacktogetherwithmydipshitboyfriend?
WhichisaboutthepointIrealizedthatI’mfullyscrewed.
“Morning,”shemumbles,eyesclosed
Whensherollsoveranddrapesherthighovermyleg,teasingmyhard-on,Idon’tstopmyselffromgrabbingahandfulofherass.
“Morning,”Ianswer.
Sherespondsbykissingmyleftpecbeforegivingitalittlebite.
Thischickissomethingelse.It’salwaysthegoodgirls,right?Allsweatersetsandmannersuntilyougetthemalone.Thenthey’reshovingyourfacebetweentheirlegsandleavingwithbloodundertheirfingernails.
Wecuddlethereforafewminutes,warmandlazyinmybed.ThenMacliftsherheadtopeekatme.“CanIaskyousomething?”She’sapprehensive.
“Sure.”
“It’skindofanosyquestion.”
“Alright.”
“Like,totallynoneofmybusiness.”
“Yougonnaaskitorshouldwekeepdiscussingthequestion-askingprocessitself?”
Shebitesmeagain,ateasingnipatmyshoulder.“Fine.DidyouhavesexwithSutton?”
“No.Wetookawalkonthepierandthenshepukedovertherailing,soIputherinacab.”
Mackenziekeepsprying.“Ifshehadn’tthrownup,wouldyouhavedoneanything?Kissed?Broughtherbackhere?”
“Maybe.Probably.”WhenIfeelherbodystiffenbesideme,Ithreadmyfingersthroughherlonghair.Otherguysmighthaveheldback,butI’mnototherguys.Sheasked.Ianswered.“Youwantedtoknow.”
“Yeah,Idid.AndI’mtheonewhothrewheratyou.IguessI’mnotallowedtobejealous.”Macgrowlssoftly.“ButIfuckingam.”
“Welcometotheclub,”Igrowlback.“Thethoughtofanyonebutmeputtingtheirhandsonyoumakesmehomicidal.”
Shelaughs.“Anyoneevertellyouyou’reabitintense?”
Ishrug.“Gotaproblemwiththat?”
“Notatall.”
Itwistachunkofherhairaroundmyfinger.“Youknow,”Isaypensively,“aspissedasIwasatyouthatnight,I’dforgottenhowfunitistobeEvan.It’dbeenagessincewepulledatwinswitch.”
Shetiltsherheadcuriously.“Youtwowouldswitchplacesalot?”
“Allthetime.Heusedtotakeallmygeographytestsformeinhighschool—sweartoGod,thatkidhasaweirdlygoodmemorywhenitcomestostatecapitals.Sometimeswe’dbreakupwitheachother’sgirlfriends.”
Mackenziegasps.“That’sawful.”
“Notourfinestmoments,”Iagree.“Wealsoswitchedplacestomesswithourfriends,althoughmostofthemcantellusapart,evenwhenwemakeourselvesidenticalfromheadtotoe.Butyeah,sometimesit’snicetotakeabreakfrommyselfandbeEvan.Livelifewithzeroregardforconsequences.Dowhatyouwant,screwwhoyouwant,noregrets.”
“Idon’tknow…Ilikeyoujustfine.”Herpalmslowlytrailsdownmybarechest.“Morethanfine,actually.”
“Wait.Iwanttomakeyoubreakfast,”Isay,stoppingherwhenherhandreachesintomyboxers.
“Can’twedothisfirst?”Maclooksupandlicksherlips.
Goddamn.Yes,princess,byallmeansI’dlovetoseehowyoulookwithmycockinyourmouth,butI’mtryingoutthisnewbeing-a-gentlemanthing,ifyou’llletme.
LikeIsaid,myhead’swrecked.
“Youstartthat,”Iwarn,“andwearen’tleavingthisbed.”
“Idon’tmind.”
Groaning,Ipushheroffmeandslideoutofbed.“Tempting.Andtrustme,I’dabsolutelysmashthat,butEvanandIaregettingadeliverytodayforthehouserenovations.We’vegottagetanearlystart.”
Macpouts,myT-shirthangingoffonetannedshoulder.Herbarelegsarebeggingmetocomebacktobed.Fuckingdeathofme,rightthere.
“Fine.Iguessbreakfastwilldo.Gotanyscones?”
“Fuckoff,”Ilaugh,headingtothebathroom.
AfterIgrabasparetoothbrushfromthecabinet,Mactearsopenthepackaging.Webrushourteethsidebyside,butdrawthelinethere.Sheshoosmeoutsoshecanpee,andIgoandansweratextfromBillyWestabouttoday’slumberorder.I’mstilltextingwhenMacwandersoutofmyroomtowardthekitchen.
BythetimeI’mdone,thearomaoffreshlybrewedcoffeeiswaftingthroughthehouse.
“Sure,honey,helpyourself,”IhearEvandrawl.
IroundthecornertoseeMacstandingbythecoffeemakerwithamuginherhand.
“IthoughtI’dgetapotgoingforwhoeverwantssome,”shesays,notingasIdothesarcasminhisvoice.“Ihopethat’salright.”
“Ofcourseitis,”IsaypointedlyatEvan.BecauseIdon’tgethissuddenattitude.“Haveaseat.I’mgonnagetsomeeggsgoing.Youwantbacon?”
“ShallIhavethemaidfetchthegoodchina,orwouldhermajestyprefertobehandfed?”Evaninquires,grabbingaboxofcereal.
“Hey.”Ishovehimashetriesblockingmefromthefridge.Fuckingchild.“Giveitarest,man.”
Macisvisiblyuncomfortable.“Yeah,youknow,I’veactuallygottogetbacktothedorm,soI’mgoingtoheadout.”
“Comeon,stay,”Iurge.“I’lldriveyoubackafterbreakfast.”
Butit’stoolate.Whateverbug’scrawledupEvan’sassthismorning,he’salreadyscaredheroff.Maccan’tgetawayfromusfastenough,hurryingofftomybedroom,whereshecallsacabwhilechangingbackintoherdressfromlastnight.
“I’msorryabouthim,”Itellher,catchingheraroundthewaistbeforeshewalksoutthefrontdoor.“He’snotmuchofamorningperson.”
“It’sfine.Really.”
Istudyherface.Hermakeup’sbeenwashedoffandherhair’sinalooseknotontopofherhead.It’sthemostbeautifulshe’severlooked.AndnowI’mthinkingweshouldhavegonewithherplanofstayinginbedallday.
“I’msureifIhadsiblings,they’dbeapaininthebutttoo.”Macliftsuponhertoestokissme.Itakethattomeanwe’restillgonnabeonspeakingterms.
Aftershe’sgone,IfindEvaninthegarage.
“Hey,whatwasallthatabout?”Iasktersely.
“Betteraskyourselfthatquestion,”heretorts,brushingbymewithhistoolbeltoverhisshoulder.“Sincewhenareyouplayingbutlertotheprincess?TheplanwastogethertobreakupwithKincaid,notplayhouse.”
“Yeah,anditworked.”Ifollowhimacrosstheyardandbacktowardthehouse,choosingtoignorethewaytheinflectionofhatredinhisvoicepricksmynerves.“Shedumpedhimlastnight.”
“Great,”hesays,crackingopenabeerfromthecooleronthefrontporch—atseveninthemorning.“Thenit’stimetocutherloose.Wegetbothoftheminthesameplace,lethimseeyoutwotogether,thenbedonewiththeclones.Endof.”
Isnatchthebeerfromhishandandpouritout.“Wouldyouquititwiththisshit?Idon’twantyouwastedandshootinganailgunatme.”
“Sure,Dad,”hesays,flickingmeoff.
“Hey.”Ipointastifffingerathischestbecausehefuckingknowswhathejustdid.“Yousaythatagain,we’regonnahaveproblems.”
Hesmacksmyhandaway.“Yeah,whatever.”
Evan’sononetoday,andI’maboutsickofthiscrap.ButIcan’tworryaboutwhat’sgothimalltwistedup,becauseIneedtofigureouthowthehellI’mgoingtohandlethisthingwithMackenzie.There’snowaymybrotherandourfriendsaregoingtoletmeoffthehook.Allfourofthemhavebeencircling,waitingforthefeedingfrenzy.Theywantblood.
Istewaboutitallday,butnosolutionscometome.BythetimeweallhitupJoe’slaterwhileSteph’sthereonhershift,Ihaven’tcomeupwithanythingbetterthanstallingandhopingtheydon’tmentiontheplan.
We’reongoodtermsagain,Joeandme.I’mstilldisappointedinhoweasilyhecavedinfiringme,butIgetwhyhedidit.Hardtoholdagrudgeagainstaguywhohasamortgageandhiskid’scollegeloanstoworryabout.Itwasn’tfairtoexpecthimtogotothematformewhenhe’sgothisownfamilytoprotect.
Wegrababoothnearthebar,withEvanslidingnexttome,andHeidiandAlanaacrossfromus.Stephwandersoverwithdrinkmenusnoneofusneedorglanceat.Thechicksordershots.EvanandIstickwithbeer.Wetooktodayofftorebuildourfrontporch,whichmeanswe’repullingadoubleshiftforLevitomorrow.We’vegottowakeupatdawn,andI’drathernotdothatwithahangover.Evan,I’msure,doesn’tgiveashit.
Ofcourse,hewastesnotimeupdatingthegirlsonthelatestMackenziedevelopments.
“I’msoturnedonrightnow,”Alanasays,withanevilgrinthatishonestlydisturbing.Chickisscarysometimes.“Lookatme.”Sheholdsoutherarmtous.“I’vegotgoosebumps.”
Withherphoneout,HeidiisscrollingthroughKincaid’sInstagram.“Allwehavetodoiskeepaneyeoutforwherehe’sgoingtobeonenight.Somewherepublic.Thenyoubringhisex,andwehumiliatethehelloutofhim.Shit,wecouldprobablyselltickets.”
“Makeitsoon.”Stephgroans.“Ifhedoesn’tstopcomingaroundhere,I’mgoingtopoisonhisdrinkwithlaxatives.Iwanthimafraidtoshowhisfaceinpublic.”
“Whynotthisweekend?”Evansuggests,elbowingmeasIconcentrateonmybeer,tryingtoignoretherestofthem.“Tomorrow.Youasktheprincessoutonadate.Steph,yougetMaddyorsomebodytoinvitehimout,andwecornerhimthen.”
Ifinallycontributetotheconversation.“No.”
Evanfrowns.“What?”
HearinghimtakingshotsatMacagaindoesmein.I’msickofthiswholestupidplot,andI’msicktodeathofpretendingI’mstillonboard.IjumpedoffthistrainthemomentIrealizedhowcoolMacwas.Howsmartandsexyandintriguing.She’sunlikeanywomanI’veeverbeenwith.
“It’sover,”Itellmyfriends,eyeingthemovertherimofmybottle.“Forgetaboutit.”
“Whatdoyoumeanforgetaboutit?”Evansnatchesthebeerfrommyhand.
Myshouldersstiffen.He’dbetterberealcarefulhowhecomesatmenext.
“Wehadadeal,”hesnaps.
“No,youhaveavendetta,andIwantnopartofitanymore.I’mtheonewhogotfired,notyou.WhichmeansIgetthefinalsayaboutthis.AndI’mcallingitoff.”
Heshakeshisheadincredulously.“Iknewit.Shegottoyou,didn’tshe?Fuckingclonegotyouwrappedaroundherprissylittlefinger.”
“Enough.”Ismackmyhanddownonthetable,rattlingourdrinks.“Thatgoesforallofyou,”Itellthegirls.“She’soff-limits.Asfarasyou’reallconcerned,she’snottobemessedwith.”
“Whendidthishappen?”Stephlooksatmeinconfusion.Idon’tblameher.Untilthissecond,I’vekepteveryoneoutoftheloop.
“Thisiswhywecan’thavenicethings,”Alanasays.
“I’mserious.Look,IlikeMac.”Iletoutabreath.“Didn’texpectto,buthereweare.I’mintoher.”
Acrossthebooth,Heidi’slipstwistintoascowl.“Men,”shemuttersunderherbreath.
Iignorethejab.“Idon’tknowwherethisisgoingwithus,butIexpectyoualltobenicetoher.Forgetweeverhatchedthisstupidplot.It’snothappeninganymore.Nomorerudecomments,”Isaytomybrother.Tothegirls,“Andnoschemingbehindherback.Forbetterorworse,youassholesaremyfamily.I’maskingyoutodothisforme.”
Inthesilencethatfollows,eachofthemgivesacurtnod.
ThenEvanstormsoff,becauseofcoursehedoes.Stephshrugsasshegoestocheckonhertables.HeidiandAlanajuststareatmelikeI’mthebiggestdumbassthey’veevermet.It’snottheenthusiasticconfirmationIwant,butit’shonestlybetterthanIhopedfor.Still,I’mundernoillusionsthatthis’llbepainlessforanyofus.
Heidishovesahandthroughhershorthairandcontinuestoeyeme.Inherexpression,Iseeaflickerofanger.Ahintofpity.Andagleamofsomethingelse.Somethingvindictive,alarming.
“NoonebreathesawordofthistoMac,”IwarnHeidi.“Ever.”CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
MACKENZIE
IspendthenextweekdodgingPrestonwithsuchskillit’sashameavoidanceisn’tanOlympicsport.Ifitwere,Bonniewouldalsomakeaworthycompetitor.Shecoversformeatourdormonenight,answeringthedoortoplesstoscarehimoff.ForwhateverlewdnessPresgetsuptoinhisfreetime,heremainsterrifiedofpublicembarrassment.SowhenBonniestartsshoutingatthetopofherlungs,andourhallwayneighborspoketheirheadsouttheirdoorstoseewhatallthecommotionisabout,Prestonisquicktoretreat.
Ignoringhistextsandphonecallsiseasy.Hidingfromhimoncampushasbeentrickier.I’vetakentoduckingoutthebackentranceofeveryclassafewminutesearlyorseveralminuteslatetomakesureheisn’twaitingforme.GettingclassmatesI’vebefriendedtotextmeaheads-upwhenhe’sspottednearby.It’salotofeffort,butahellofalotlessmessythangettingcornered.
Seemslikeeverythinginmylifehasbeenreducedtotheactofsneakingaround.AvoidingPres.Goingbehindmyparents’backstoworkonthehotel.SlippingaroundtowntomeetupwithCooper.Ican’triskanyoneoncampusrecognizinghimandrattingmeouttoPreston,andIthinkCooper’shidingmefromEvan,soourrendezvoushavebecomeincreasinglycreative.
Andwhilewestillhaven’thadTheTalkaboutourdatingsituation,wecan’tkeepourhandsoffeachother.I’maddicted.Utterlyaddictedtohim.Bonniecallsmedickcrazed.I’darguewithherifshehadn’tbeenrightaboutabsolutelyeverythingsincethemomentwemet.
OnSaturdaynight,ImeetCooperatoneofourusualspotsdownthebeachfromhishouse.ThisendoftheBaywasthehardesthitfromthelastcouplehurricanesandhasbeenprettymuchabandonedforyears.It’snothingbutemptyhousesanddecayingwater-frontrestaurants.Anoldfishingpierbrokenandmostlyovertakenbytheocean.WeletDaisyoffherleashtorunaroundabit,andshewastesnotimeterrorizingthetinysandcrabsandchasingbirds.
Afterstoppingtositonapieceofdriftwood,Cooperpullsmetostraddlehislap,facinghim.BothhandscradlemyassasIscratchmyfingertipslightlyupanddownthebackofhisneck,inthewayIknowgetshimalittlehard.
“Youkeepdoingthat,”hewarns,“I’mgonnabangyourighthereinfrontoftheseagulls.”
“Animal,”Isay,bitinghislip.
“Tease.”Hekissesme.Stronghandsslideupmyribstogivemybreastsateasingsqueezebeforesettlingaroundmywaist.Heeaseshismouthaway,hisgazefindingmine.“Iwasthinking.There’sapartytonight.Comewithme.”
Iliftabrow.“Idon’tknow.We’dbegoingpublic.Sureyou’rereadyforthat?”
“Whywouldn’tIbe?”
Oursneakingaroundhasn’tbeenanexplicittopicofconversation,butmoreanunspokenagreement.Alteringthatagreement,whileinevitable,comeswithawholenewnetofconsequences.Thatisn’ttosayI’munhappyatmakingthisofficial.Surprised,maybe.
“So…”Irunmypalmsdownhischest,feelingeveryhardmuscleuntilmyhandsmeethiswaistband.“Likeadate.”
“Likeadate,sure.”Cooperdoesthisthingwherehelickshislipswhenhethinkshe’sbeingcharming.It’sannoyinglyhot.
“Whichwouldmeanwe’relikedating.”
“Let’sputitthisway.”Cooperbrushesmyhairoffmyshoulder.Hewrapsthelengtharoundhisfistandtugs.Onlyalittle.It’sasubtle,evocativegesturethathasbecomeourshorthandforIwanttoripyourclothesoff.LikewhenIbitehisliportugthefrontofhisjeans,orlookathimorbreathe.“I’mnotfuckinganyoneelse.Idon’twantyoufuckinganyoneelse.Ifanyonelooksatyoufunny,I’mbreakingtheirface.How’sthatwork?”
Itisn’texactlypoetry,butthatmightbethemostromanticthingaguy’seversaidtome.Coopermightbeabituncouthandrougharoundtheedges,butI’mkindofintoit.
“Worksforme.”
Grinning,henudgesmeoffhislap.“Comeon,let’stakethelittlemonsterhome.AndIwanttotakeaquickshowerbeforeweheadout.Iswearthere’salwaysalayerofsawdustonme.”
“Ilikeit.It’smanly.”
Herollshiseyes.
Wewalktohishouse,enteringthroughthebackdeck.IfillDaisy’swaterbowlwhileCoopergoestohisroomtoshower.I’djoinhim,butIblow-driedmyhairbeforecomingoverandIdon’twanttomessitup,especiallynowthatwe’regoingtoaparty.
“Hey,”gruntsEvan,histall,broadframeappearinginthekitchendoorway.He’sbarefoot,wearingthreadbarejeansandaredT-shirt.“Didn’tknowyouwereover.”
IslideontoastoolatthecounterandwatchasDaisylapsnoisilyatherwater.“Yup.HereIam.Cooper’sintheshower.”
Evanopensacupboardandgrabsabagofpotatochips.Hetearsitopenandshovessomechipsinhismouth.Ashechews,hewatchesmesuspiciously.“What’reyoutwouptotonight?”
“Coopersaysthere’saparty?Iguesswe’regoingtothat.”
Heraiseshiseyebrows.“He’sbringingyoutoChase’s?”
“Yeah.”Ipause.“Gotaproblemwiththat?”
“Notatall,princess.”
“Oh,really.”
“It’sabouttimeyoucameoutwithus,”Evanadds,shrugging.“Ifyou’rewithmybrother,you’llneedtomeetthegangsoonerorlater.Win’emover.”
Well,hell.NowI’mnervous.Why’dhehavetophraseitthatway?
WhatifCooper’sfriendshateme?
MydistressismomentarilyforgottenatthesoundofDaisy’surgentbarking.Iglanceoveratthepuppy,onlytofindshe’sstandingtherebarkingatthewall.
“Daisy,”Ichide.
“Don’tworry,”Evansays.“It’sprobablyjusttheghost.”
Irollmyeyesathim.
“Coopdidn’ttellyouaboutourghost?”Hetipshishead.“Forreal?That’susuallythefirstthingItellguests.It’slikeabadgeofhonor,livinginahauntedhouse.”
“Yourhouseishaunted,”Isayskeptically.Because,comeon.I’mnotthatgullible.
“Sortof?Shedoesn’treallybotherus,”Evanexplains.“Soit’snotexactlyahaunting.Butshedefinitelyhangsaround.”
“She.Shewho?”
“Patriciasomethingorother.Littlegirlwhodrownedoutbacklikeahundredyearsago.Shewassix,seven?Ican’trememberherage.Butwhenitstormsyoucanhearherscreaming,andeverynowandthen,thelightsinthehouseflicker,usuallywhenshe’sfeelingplayful—”
Hehaltsabruptlyasthelightfixtureoverthekitchenislandhonest-to-Godflickers.
Ohhellno.
Evancatchesmyalarmandgrins.“See?She’sjustteasingus.Don’tworry,princess.Patricia’saniceghost.LikeCasper.Ifyouwantmoredetails,Ithinkthetownlibraryhassomeoldnewspaperarticlesaboutit.”HewalksovertopatDaisy,who’squieteddown.“Gooddog.Youtellthatlittleghostgirl.”
ImakeamentalnotetovisittheAvalonBaylibrary.Idon’treallybelieveinghosts,butIdolikehistory,andnowthatIownahotelhere,I’mevenmorecurioustolearnaboutthehistoryofthistown.
“I’mgonnaridewithyouguys,ifthat’scool?”Evansays,thenwandersoutofthekitchenbeforeIcananswer.Iguessitwasarhetoricalquestion.
Sighing,Istareattheemptydoorway.Ithinkthere’sonlyonepersonIreallyneedto“winover”atthemoment,andthatpersonisCooper’stwinbrother.
Cooper’sfriendChasehasasplit-levelhouseintownwithamassiveyardbackingontoawoodedarea.Themomentwegetthere,I’mslightlyoverwhelmedbythenumberofpeople.There’satonofthemhere.Insideplayingbeerpong.Outsidearoundafirepit.Musicblasting.Raucouslaughter.WemaketheroundsasCoopermakestheintroductions.It’dbefunifIdidn’tnoticeeveryonestaringatme.Meanwhile,anobliviousCooperkeepsonearmaroundmywaistashetalkswithhisfriends.EverywhereIlookareside-eyes,over-the-shoulderglances,andconspicuouswhispers.Idon’tusuallygetself-consciousinsocialsituations,butit’shardnottowheneveryoneismakingitclearwiththeireyesthattheythinkIdon’tbelong.It’snerve-wracking.Suffocating.
IneedmoreboozeifI’mgoingtosurvivetonight.
“I’mgoingtogetanotherdrink,”ItellCooper.He’dbeenchattingwithatattooedguynamedWyatt,who’scomplainingabouthowhisgirlfriendwon’ttakehimback.Nearby,asmallcrowdiswatchingagameofbikini-and-briefsTwisterinthebackyard.
“I’llgetitforyou,”heoffers.“Whatdoyouwant?”
“No,it’sokay.Stayandchat.I’llberightback.”
Withthat,Islipawaybeforehecanarguewithme.Iwindmywaythroughthehouseandendupinthekitchen,whereIfindalone,unopenedbottleofredwineanddecideit’stheleastlikelytogivemearaginghangoverinthemorning.
“You’reMackenzie,right?”asksagorgeousgirlwithlonghairandadarkcomplexion.She’sinabikinihaltertopandhigh-waistedshorts,mixingadrinkatthecounter.“Cooper’sMackenzie.”
“Yep,that’sme.Cooper’sMackenzie.”Itsoundslikea’70scopdramaorsomething.
“Sorry,”shesayswithafriendlysmile.Sheputsalidonthecocktailshakerandvigorouslyshakesitoverhershoulder.“IjustmeantI’veheardalotaboutyoufromCoop.I’mSteph.”
“Oh!Thegoatgirl?”
Herlipstwitch.“I’msorry—what?”
Ilaughawkwardly.“Sorry,thatwasrandom.CooperandEvantoldmethisstoryaboutrescuingagoatwhentheywerepreteensatthebehestoftheirfriendSteph.Thatwasyou?”
Sheburstsoutlaughing.“OhmyGod.Yes.TheGreatGoatRobbery.Totallymyidea.”Shesuddenlyshakesherhead.“Exceptdidtheytellyouthepartaboutabandoningthegoatinthewoods?Like,whatthehell!”
“Right?”Iexclaim.“That’swhatIsaid!Thatpoorthingtotallygoteatenbymountainlionsorsomething.”
Shesnickers.“Well,weliveinaseasidetown,somaybenotmountainlions.Definitelygotmauledbysomepredator,though.”
Isetthewinebottleonthecounterandopenadrawerinsearchofacorkscrew.
Stephpoursherconcoctionintotworedcupsthenoffersmeone.“Leavethewine.Thatstuff’sterrible.Trythis.”Shepushesthedrinkatme.“Trustme.It’sgood.Nottoostrong.”
Nosenseinoffendingtheonlypersontospeaktomeallnight.Itakeasipandampleasantlysurprisedbytheslightlysweettasteoforangeandbotanicals.
“Thisisgood.Reallygood.Thanks.”
“Noproblem.Don’ttellanyonewhereyougotit,”shesays,tappingthesideofhernose.Asiftosay,ifthecopsraidthepartyandcatchyouunderagedrinking,don’tsnitchonme.“IwashopingCooperwoulddecidetoshareyousoon.We’veallbeenanxioustomeetyou.”
“We?”
“Just,youknow,thegang.”
“Right.”
Evanhadalsousedthatphrase.Iwonderwhoelsecomprisesthis“gang.”CooperandIhaven’tdonemuchinthegetting-to-know-yourealmthisweek.Imean,beyondanatomy.
Speakingofanatomy,aninsanelyattractive,anatomicallyperfectguystridesintothekitchen.Tall,fair,andarmedwithapairofdimples,heflashesasmileatSteph.“Who’syourfriend?”heasks,curiousblueeyeslandingonme.
“Mackenzie,”Isay,holdingoutmyhand.
“Tate.”Heshakesmyoutstretchedhand,hisfingerslingering.
Stephsnorts.“Keepitinyourpants,babe.She’swithCoop.”
“Yeah?”Tatesoundsimpressed.Hisgazerakesovermeinslow,deliberateperusal.“LuckyCoop.”Hegrabsafewlongnecksfromthefridge.“Yougirlscomingoutsidetothefire?”
“Inabit,”Stephanswers.
“Cool.”Henodsandleavesthekitchen.
Oncehe’sgone,StephisquicktogivemetheskinnyonTate.Apparentlyhesleepsaround,buthisdimplesandeasygoingcharmmakeithardtoviewhimasadouchebag.“He’sjustsodarnlikeable,youknow?”Shesighs.“Ihatepeoplelikethat.”
“Thoselikeablepricks,”Iagree,solemn.
Wecontinuechattingaswedrinkourcocktails.Themorewetalk,themoreIlikeher.Turnsoutwebothhaveathingforamusementparksandtheone-hitwondersofearly2000spopmusic.
“IsawthemlastyearinMyrtleBeach.Theywereopeningfor…”Stephthinksaboutitthenlaughstoherself.“Yeah,Ican’tremember.They’reintheirfiftiesnow.”
“OhGod,Ican’tbelievethey’restilltogether.”
“Itwasweird,”shesays,pouringusanothercoupleofmixedcocktails.
“Whatwasweird?”AgirlwithplatinumhairanddressedinablackcroppedT-shirtwiththesleevescutoffslidesinnexttoSteph.
“Nothing,”Stephsays.She’ssmilinguntilsheclocksthehardglareontheblonde’sface.Thenallthehumorfalls.“Heidi,thisisMackenzie.”
There’stoomuchemphasisonmyname.Ican’thelpwonderingwhatCooper’stoldthem.Itleavesmeatasignificantdisadvantage.
“Nicetomeetyou,”Ioffertocutthetension.I’massumingHeidiisyetanothermemberofthis“gang.”
“Great,”shesays,boredtheminuteshelookedatme.“Canwetalk,Steph?”
Besideher,aredheadissportingasmirkthatsignalsI’mnotinonthejoke,whateveritis.
IgetthedistinctimpressionI’mnolongerwelcomehere.
“Youknow,IshouldgofindCooper,”ItellSteph.“Nicemeetingyouall.”
Idon’twaitforareplybeforeshufflingoff,leavingmydrinkbehind.
Cooper’sstillinthebackyard,onlynowhe’sstandingaroundthebonfirenexttoaverycutebrunettewhoseassistryingtoclimboutofhershorts.WhenherhandtouchesCooper’schestIwanttochargeherlikeabull.Instead,Ikeepmycoolandsaunteruptohim,grabbinghimbyhisbeltloops.Thatgetshisattention.Thecornerofhismouthliftswryly.
“Comeon,”Isay,ignoringtheirritatedlookfromthebrunette.“Iwanttogropeyouinthedark.”
Cooperdoesn’tmissabeat.Hesetshisbottleonthecementblocksliningthebonfirepit.“Yeah,okay.”
Togetherweroundthesideofthehousetothestreetoutfront,whereCooper’struckisparked.Heliftsmeuptositontheopentailgate.Withadirtygrin,hestepsbetweenmylegs.
“Cametopissonmyleg,huh?”Herunshiscallusedfingertipsupanddownthetopsofmyexposedthighs.Myteenyyellowdresshasriddenupalmosttomywaist,butCooper’sbigbodyshieldsmefromview.
“Innotsomanywords,yeah,Iguessso.”
“I’mintoit,”hesays,smirking.“Youweregoneawhile.Everythingcool?”
“Allgood.Justmingling.ImetyourfriendTate.”Iwink.“He’scute.”
Darkeyesnarrowatme.“Didhehitonyou?”
“Foraboutasecond.BackedoffwhenhelearnedIcameherewithyou.”
“Good.Idon’thavetokillhim.Meetanyoneelse?”
“Afewothers,”Isayvaguely,becauseIdon’twanttotalkaboutit.
Truthis,tonighthasbeenabustandI’mfeelinganxiousabouttheprospectsofhowCooperandIaregoingtofitintoeachother’slives.ThelongerI’mlefttothinkonthesubject,themorethedoubtdigsitsrootsintomybrain.Idon’twanttothink.IwantCoopertomakeitallgoaway.SoItanglemyhandsinhishairandpullhimtowardme,kissinghimwithpurposeuntilIfeeltheslightestgroanfromhischest,andhewrapshisarmsaroundme,deepeningthekiss.
“What’sthematter,youtwo?”IjumpwhenEvansneaksupbehindus,shiningtheflashlightfromhisphoneinoureyes.“PartyrunoutofDomPérignonalready?”
“Fuckoff,”Coopergrumbles,swattingthephoneaway.“Can’tyoufindsomeoneelsetoentertainyou?”
“I’mgood.Cametocheckonyoucrazykids.”
Evanflashesagrinandwavesatmewithabottleofbeerinhishand.Thefirstnightwemetonthebeach,IthoughtEvanwasallright.Sincethen,I’vefoundhimrudeandpointedlyunfriendly.Itisn’tenoughtobeadicktome;hewantsmetoknowhe’stryingtobeadick.It’sthecommitmenttoeffortthat’sbeengettingtome.
“Nowyouhave.”Cooperlevelshisbrotherwithalook.AwholesilentconversationishappeningthatIcan’ttranslate.“Bye.”
“Tellmesomething,Mac.”
“Giveitarest,dude.”Cooperbacksawayfromme,tryingtoescorthisobviouslydrunkbrothertowardthehouse.
Evaneyesmeoverthetopofhisbeer.Hetakesanothergulpwhilepushinghisbrotheraway.“I’vebeendyingtoask.Dorichchicksdoanal?”
“That’senough,asshole.Leaveheralone.”
“Ordoyoupaysomeoneelsetodoitforyou?”
Ithappensinablink.
OnesecondEvanislaughingathisownunfunnyjoke.
Thenhe’sflatontheground,bloodpouringfromhismouth.CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
COOPER
Iputhimonthegroundwithonepunch.Evanwasalreadywellonhiswaytowasted,orelsehemighthavetakenthehitbetter.IfeelasmallpangofregretwhenIseethebloodleakingontotheasphalt,butallremorsefadeswhenEvanlumberstohisfeetandchargesatme.
Hedriveshisshoulderintomygut,grabbingmearoundthewaistaswestumblebackwardagainstmytruck.SomewhereIhearMacscreamingatus,butit’snouse.Evanisononenow.Andwhenhelandsacoupleofhardjabstomyribs,Idon’tgiveashitwhoheisanymore.Somethinginmesnapsandmyentireworldreducestothesoletaskofkickingmybrother’sass.Wetradeblowsuntilwe’rerollingaroundinthemiddleofthestreet,pickinguproadrash.SuddenlymyarmsarelockedupandpeoplearepullingEvanandmeapart.
“Fuckyou,man,”Evanshoutsatme.
“Youcameaskingforit,”Igrowl.
Helungesagain.
Myfistsswingup.
Bodiescrowdthespacebetweenusaswe’reforciblyseparated.
“Whatiswrongwithyoutwo?”Heidishouts.SheandJayWestcageEvan,steppingbetweenusasIshoveawaythehandsofatleastthreeotherguysfromtheparty.
“I’mfine,”Evangrumbles.“Backoff.”Hewrestlesoutoftheirgripsandstormsdownthestreetonfoot.
“I’llgethim,”Stephoffers,sighingsoftly.
Seeingthefight’sover,everyonebutmyclosestfriendsdriftsbacktothehouse.
“Nah,lethimcooloff,”Alanaadvises.
Heidiside-eyesmebeforestalkingaway,Jaytrailingafterherlikealovesickpuppy.Iwonderiftheycametogether.Ihopeso.Maybethenshe’llstophatingonmesomuch.
StephandAlanawearmatchingfrownsastheystudyme.Whatever.Idon’tgiveaflyingfuckwhattheythinkrightnow.Evandeservedeverylastblow.
Macgrabsmyface,inspectingthedamage.“Youokay?”
Iwincewhenherfingersskimovertherapidlyswellingspotbeneathmylefteye.“I’mfine.”Isearchherfacejustasintently.“Areweokay?”Idon’tregretsluggingEvanoverwhathesaid—nobodygetstotalktoMaclikethat—butIamsorryshehadtoseeit.
Fuck,ifthisisthethingthatdrivesherway…
Shekissesmycheek.“Youshouldgoafterhim.”
Ihesitate.
“I’llbeherewhenyougetback,”shepromises,asifreadingmymind.
Idon’thaveanychoicebuttobelieveher.Besides,Evanloadeduponangerandalcoholroamingthestreetsatnightaloneisbeggingfordisaster.SoIheaddowntheroadtofindhim.Iglanceovermyshoulderonce,twice.Sureenough,Mackenzieisstillthere,standingbymypickup.
EventuallyIcatchuptoEvan,findinghimonabenchinasmallplaygroundlitonlybyacoupleofdimstreetlights.
“Stillgotallyourteeth?”Iask,takingaseatbesidehim.
“Yeah.”Herubshisjaw.“Youhitlikeaten-year-old.”
“Stillkickedyourass.”
“Ihadyou.”
“Youhadshit,”Isay,eyeinghimwithasmirk.
Wesitquietlyforsometime,watchingtheswingswavinginthebreeze.It’sbeenyearssinceEvanandIfoughtthisbad.Reallygoingtoblows.I’dbelyingifIsaidIhadn’tfeltitcoming.Shit’sbeenbuildingupwithhimforalongtimenow.MaybeI’mtheassholefornottalkingtohimaboutitsooner.Thenagain,takinghisownissuesoutonMacisweak,andI’mnotabouttolethimkeepthatup.
“Youwereoutoflinebackthere.”
“Ah,comeon.Itwasalittlefunny.”Heslouchesonthebench,spreadinghislegslikehemightsliprightoffthethinginapoolofliquid.
“I’mserious.Shehasn’tdoneagoddamnthingtoyou.Yougotaproblemwithme,growupandsayso.Thesnidecommentsandpassive-aggressivebullshit,itstopsnow.”
“Kindofsoundslikeyou’regivingmeanultimatum.”Evantipshisheadtowardme.“Thatwhatit’scometo?”
“Damnit,dude.You’remybrother.We’reblood.Nothingchangesthat.”Ishakemyhead,frustrated.“Sowhyareyougettingsobentouttashapeabouther?”
“It’stheprincipleofthething.She’saclone,Coop.Thosepeople,they’vebeenstandingonourneckssincewewerekids.Ordon’tyouremember?Assholesrollingupintheirstupidgolfcarts,throwingdrinksonus,runningourbikesofftheroad.”
Evanendedupwithabrokenarmonce.Flippedoverhishandlebarsintoaditchwhenoneofthembumpedhistire.Wewentbackaweeklaterandslashedallfouroftheirs.Thereareyearsofthatshit.Gettingintofights.Titfortat.
“People,”Iremindhim.“Nother.Youcan’tpunishMacforeverythingoneofthem’severdonetoyou.That’sexactlywhatIwasabouttodotoherifI’dstucktotheplan.AndIwould’vebeenabastardforittoo.”Igroanquietly.“Whycan’tyouletmehavethis?”
Hisshouldersstiffen.
Imean,hell,allofuslivedthroughthedailysoapoperathatwastheEvanandGenevieveshow.Constantlybickeringinfrontofeveryone.Makinguschoosesidesinargumentswewantednopartof.Breakingup.Screwingaround.Gettingbacktogetherlikenothinghappened.Ineverthrewatantrumaboutit,andIcertainlydidn’ttreatherlikecraphopingshe’dgoaway.IfEvanwasinlovewithher,thatwashisowndamnproblem.
Sowhynow,whenIfindsomeoneIcareabout,doeshehavetobesuchajackassaboutit?
Evansighs.Scratcheshishandsthroughhishair.“Ican’thelpit,man.Itgnawsatme.Why’dithavetobeoneofthem?Youcouldpointinanydirectionandlandontenchickswhowouldfalltotheirkneesforyou.”
“Idon’tknowwhattotellyou.She’sdifferent.Ifyougaveherevenhalfachance,you’dseethat.”
There’snogoodreasonMacandIshouldwork.Ican’tgivehimone.Andhell,maybewewon’twork.She’sastubborn,opinionatedpaininmyass.She’salsogorgeous,funny,spontaneous,andambitious.Turnsout,that’smytype.Shemakesmecrazy.I’venevermetagirlthatstaysonmyminddaysandweeksafterI’veseenher.She’sundermyskin.Andforallthewayswe’recompletelydifferent,shegetsmeinawayfewothersdo.
IfI’mkiddingmyself,ifthiswholething’sboundtoblowupinmyface,sobeit.AtleastItried.
“Notalkingyououttathis,then?”hesays,hisresolveslowlycrumbling.
“I’maskingyou,asmybrother,toacceptit.”
Hethinksonit.Toolongformytaste.Forthefirsttimeinourlives,we’reonoppositesides,andIhavetowonderifthere’stoomuchbadbloodthere—toomuchragetowardtheclones—togethimbackonmine
Thenhesighsagainandrisesfromthebench.“Yeah,fine.Guessthere’snosavingyoufromyourself.I’llbackoff.”
ItakewhatIcangetfromEvanandwecallitsquashed.Backattheparty,IsendhimhomeinAlana’scartomakesurehegetstheresafewhileIdriveMactoherdorm.
“I’msorryaboutthat,”Itellherwhenshehasn’tspokeninseveralminutes.She’sstaringoutthepassengerwindowlookingdeepinthought,whichgetsmeworried.“Ithadnothingtodowithyou.Evan’sgotalotofmisplacedanger.”
“Brothersshouldn’tfight.”
Iwait,uncertainifthere’smoretothatstatement.Myconcerndeepenswhenmoredoesn’tcome.
“Talktome,Mackenzie.”Myvoicecomesoutabithusky.
“Whatifthisisabadidea?”
“Itisn’t.”
“Seriously.”Outofthecornerofmyeye,Ifindherwatchingme.“Idon’twanttobethereasonyoufalloutwithhim.It’sgoodfornoone.Youcan’tbehappybecausehe’supset,andIcan’tbehappybecauseyou’reupset.Wealllose.”
ThisisexactlywhyEvanneedstogetoverhisbullshitandletusbe.She’snotthepersonheimaginesinhishead,andifheunderstoodheratall,he’drealizehowunfairhe’sbeen.
“Evanwillgetoverit.”
“Butwhatifhedoesn’t?Thesethingscanfester.”
“Don’tworryaboutit,Mac.Seriously.”Idon’tcareifmybrotherwantstobeacrankylittlebrataboutit,aslongashe’sonhisbestbehavioraroundMacandkeepshiscommentstohimself.MywholelifeI’velivedforthetwoofus.Evanandme.Thisonething,though,Igettohaveformyself.
ClearlyI’mnotdoingagoodjobateasingherunhappiness,becausesheletsoutamiserable-soundingmoan.“Idon’twanttocomebetweenyouandyourtwin,Cooper.”
Iglanceover.Sternly.“I’vemademychoice.Iwantustobetogether.Evancandeal.”
Distressflickersthroughhereyes.“Whatdoesthatevenmean,beingtogether?Iknowearlierwesaidwe’redating,andIthoughtIwascoolwiththat—”
“Youthought?”Igrowl.
“Butthenwewenttothepartyanddidyouseehoweveryonewaslookingatus?No,lookingatme—likeIdidn’tbelongthereatall.Thatonegirl?Heidi?Completelyfrozemeoutwithhergaze.AndIoverheardacouplechickscallingmearichsnobandsayingmydressisridiculous.”
“Whyisyourdressridiculous?”FromwhereI’msitting,hershortyellowdresslooksridiculouslysexy.
“Becauseit’sGivenchyandIguessnobodywearsathousand-dollardresstoahouseparty?”Mac’scheeksreddenwithembarrassment.“Mymom’sassistantbuysmostofmyclothes.Incaseyouhaven’tnoticed,Idon’tcareaboutfashion.IliveinjeansandT-shirts.”Shesoundsmoreandmoreanguished.“Ionlyworethisstupiddressbecauseit’scuteandsummeryandshortenoughthatIknewit’ddriveyoucrazy.”
Ifightalaugh.Ialsoforcemyselfnottocommentonthefactthatthescrapofyellowfabricbarelycoveringherdelectablebodycostagrand
“ButmaybeitdidcomeofflikeIwasflaunting?Idon’tknow.Iwasn’ttryingto.AllIknowisthatnobodywantedmetheretonight.”
“Iwantedyouthere.”
“Youdon’tcount,”shegrumbles.
Ireachoverthecenterconsoleandgrabherhand.Forciblylacingourfingerstogether.“I’mtheonlyonewhocounts,”Icorrect.
“Theycounttoo,”sheargues.“You’vegotanentiregroupoffriends,andyou’veallknowneachotherforever.Ihaveliketwofriends,oneofwhomismyroommatesoshe’skindofforcedtolikeme.”
Thelaughslipsout.
“IwishIhadahugefriendgrouplikeyours.I’mjealous,”shesaysfrankly.“AndIreallywantedeveryonetolikemetonight.”
Ireleaseherhandandsteerthetrucktotheshoulderoftheroad.Iputitinparkandturntoherwithafirmstare.“Babe.Ilikeyou.Okay?Andmyfriends,they’llcomearoundandgrowtolikeyoutoo.Ipromiseyouthat.”
Shefrowns.“Don’tmakepromisesyoucan’tkeep.”
“Imeanit.Giveitalittlemoretime,”Isaygruffly.“Don’tbailonme,onthis,justbecausethereceptiontonightwasn’tthewarmest,andsomegirlsgotalljudgmentalaboutyourdress—which,justsoyouknow,isthehottestthingeverandIwanttoripthatthousand-dollarfabricoffyourbodywithmyteeth.”
Maclaughs,albeitweakly.
“Please.”IalmostcringeatthepleadingnoteIhearinmyvoice.“Don’tbailonme,princess.”
Theshadowsinthetruckdanceoverherprettyfaceasshesitsinsilenceforamoment.Itfeelslikeaneternitybeforeshefinallyresponds.
Greeneyesgleamingfromtheheadlightsofapassingvehicle,sheleanstowardmeandkissesme.Hard.Withalotoftongue.Thenshepullsbackbreathlesslyandwhispers,“Iwon’tbailonyou.”CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
MACKENZIE
Giveittime,hesaid.
They’llcomearound,hesaid.
Well,I’mcallingbullshitonCooper’sbullshit.Sincethedisasterattheparty,I’vebeenonahearts-and-mindscampaign,doingmydamnedesttotrytowinoverCooper’s“gang.”Thoughhe’dneveradmitit,Iknowhe’sbotheredbythefissureswherehisfriendsandIareconcerned,andIdon’twanttobethereasonhedriftsawayfromthepeoplehecaresabout.They’vebeeninhislifealotlongerthanIhave.ThewayIseeit,there’snoreasonwecan’tallgetalong.
SoI’mtrying.I’mreally,reallytrying.Whetherit’soutatthesportsbarplayingdartsorhangingonthebeachatabonfire,I’vebeenworkingtomakeinroadsinrecentweeks.MostofCooper’sguyfriends—Tate,Chase,Wyatt—seemtohavecompletelywarmeduptome.WeevenwentoutfordinneronenightwithChaseandhisboyfriend,acuteguynamedAlecwhoalsogoestoGarnet.Excepttheydon’tcount,becausethey’renottheonesIneedtowinover.Thatwouldbethegang,theinnercircle.
AsidefromSteph,whocontinuestobeanally,Ican’tseemtocracktheironcurtainthatistheAlanaandHeidiblockade.AndwhileEvanhasn’tbeenovertlyhostilelately,itseemshe’soptedforthesilentapproachwhereI’mconcerned.Ifyoucan’tsayanythingnice,andallthat.
WhichiswhyIthoughttonightwouldbetheperfectopportunityforamoreintimateget-together.Justthegang.S’mores,scarymovies,maybealittleTruthorDareandNeverHaveIEver.Bondingstuffandallthatjazz.
Soofcourse,bymidafternoonthescatteredshowerspredictedforthiseveningturnintoseverethunderstormandtornadowarningsthroughouttheCarolinas
Awesome.Eventheweatherisagainstme.
Anhourago,CooperandEvanlefttohelpLevibattendownthehatchesatoneofhisconstructionsites.SonowI’msittinghereattheirhousewithtenpoundsofcoldbuffalowingsandcheesygarlicbread,andbeyondtheslidingglassdoors,theskygrowsgrayandforebodingoverthebay.Withoutmuchelsetodo,andbecauseIhappentolovestorms—there’ssomethingaboutthefierce,electricanticipationofchaos—Iopenthebackdoortoletthecoolairinandthencurluponthecouchwithsomehomework.TheTVisonquietlyinthebackground,turnedtothelocalnews,wheretheweatherpeoplearestandinginfrontofaradarimageawashinredandorange,tossingaroundwordslikehunkerdown.
Igetmyanthropologyreadingdoneandamwatchingsomeclipsonmylaptopformymediacultureclasswhenahugecrackoflightningflashesoutsideandtheresultingthundershakesthehouse.Thestartlingbarrageknocksthewindrightoutofme.Daisy,whowascurledupunderablanketatmyfeet,boltsoutoftheroomforherfavoritehidingplaceunderCooper’sbed.Rainbeginstopouroutsideinasuddendelugethatswallowsthehorizonbehindasilvercurtain.Ijumpoffthecouchandquicklyshuttheslidingdoor,thenwipeupthewaterthatsnuckinsidewithadishrag
It’sthenIhearit,afaintwailinginthedistance.
“Daisy?”Ishout,glancingaround.HadsherunoutsidewhenIwasn’tlooking?
Nope.AquickpeekintoCooper’sroomrevealsherlyingunderthebed,frontpawsflatonthehardwood,withherlittlefacesquishedbetweenthem.
“Wasthatyoucrying,littleone?”Iask,onlytojumpwhenIhearitagain.It’smoreofascreamthanawail,andit’sdefinitelycomingfromoutside.
Whenitstormsyoucanhearherscreaming…
MypulseacceleratesasEvan’swordsbuzzaroundinmyhead.Washeseriousaboutthisplacebeinghaunted?Whatthehellhadhecalledheragain—
“Patricia?”Isayfeebly,mycautiousgazedartingaroundtheroom.“Isthatyou?”
Thelightfixtureabovemyheadflickers.
Astartledyelpripsoutofmythroat,causingDaisytocrawlbackwardanddisappeardeeperunderthebed.
IleaveCooper’sroom,heartpounding.Candles.Ishouldprobablyfindsomecandlesincasethepowergoesout.Becausenothingsoundslessappealingtomethansittinginthedarklisteningtotheshrieksofacentury-olddeadchild.
Asifoncue,theshrillnoisesstartupagain,acacophonyofsoundminglingwiththecrashesofthunderoutsidetheoldbeachhouse.
“Patricia,”Icallout.Steadyvoicenow.Hands,notsomuch.“Look,let’sbecool,okay?Iknowit’sprobablynotfunbeingdead,butthatdoesn’tmeanyouhavetoscreamyourlungsout.Ifyouuseyourindoorvoice,I’mhappytositdownandlistentowhateveryou—”
Anotherscreampiercestheair.
“Ornot,”Ibackpedal.“Fine.Youwin,Patricia.Justkeepscaringthecrapoutofme,then.”
Inthekitchen,Istartopeninglowercabinetsinsearchofcandlesorflashlights.Ifindapackoftealightsandbreatheinrelief.Good.NowIjustneedtograboneofthegazillionlightersonthecoffeetableandI’mallset.
Onmywaybacktothelivingroom,abuzzingnoisecatchesmyattention.Ithinkitmightbemyphone,untilIrealizeit’sstillinmypocket.IfollowthesoundtothekitchencounterwhereCooper’sphonehasnowstoppedvibrating.Shit.He’dforgottenhisphone.Withthescreenstilllit,Iseehehasseveralmissedcallsandtextmessages.Idon’tlooklongenoughtoreadthem,notwantingtoinvadeCooper’sprivacy,butIdonoteSteph’sandAlana’snames.
Giventhenumberofcallsandtexts,itcouldbeurgent.I’dgetintouchwithEvantogivehimtheheads-up,butIdon’thavehisnumberandcan’tunlockCooper’sphonetogetit.Ifit’simportant,thegirlswilltryEvaneventually,Ireason.SoImindmybusinessandgobacktomyhomework.
Butthebuzzingcontinues.Foranotherhalfhour,abouteveryfiveminutes,Cooper’sphonerattlesonthekitchencounter.Fuckit.IgrabthephonethenexttimeacallcomesinandthistimeIanswerit.
“Hello,Steph?”Isay,readinghernameonthescreen.
“Who’sthis?”
“Mackenzie.Cooper’soutwithEvanandLevi.Helefthisphoneathome.”
“Damn,”shesayswithafrustratedhuff.“I’vebeentryingtogetaholdofEvan,buthe’snotansweringeither.”
“What’sgoingon?”
“There’swatercominginthroughtheceilingofthebathroom.Weheardsomethingthatsoundedlikeatreefallingontheroof,andthensuddenlywater’srunningdownthewall.”
“Youokay?”
“We’refine,butweneedtofixthisbeforetheentirehouseisflooded.We’vegottowelsdown,butthere’stoomuchwaterandwedon’thaveanywaytostopit.”
Shit.Iftheycan’treachEvan,itprobablymeansthetwinsarestillwrappeduphelpingtheiruncle.Thestormisreallywailingnow,thunderandlightningcomingeveryfewminutesandthewindandrainbatteringthewindows.AndaccordingtotheradaronTV,thisthingisn’tpassingquickly.WhichmeansStephandAlanaaregoingtoneedaraftsoon.
Pausingforamomenttothink,itoccurstomeCooper’struckisstillhere,andhiskeysaresittingonthecoffeetable.Ibethe’sgotallkindsofstuffinthegarage—aladderandtarps.
Aplanformsinmyhead.
“Okay.Writedownmyphonenumberandtextmeyouraddress,”ItellSteph.“I’mcomingover.”
“Uh…”There’smutedchatteringinthebackgroundthatIassumeisAlana.“I’mnotsureifthat’s—”
“I’mgoingtograbsomesuppliesfromCooper’sgarageandheadoverthere.Trustme,this’llwork.”
“Alright,”shefinallyrelents.Theremightevenbeahintofreliefinhervoice.
Afterwegetoffthephone,IborrowarainjacketfromCooper’sclosetthengrabhiskeysanddashthroughtherainandmudtohisgarage.Inside,againstthewall,he’sgotallsortsofbuildingmaterialsstackedupfromtherenovationsheandEvanhavebeendoingonthehouse.Amongthem,someblackvinyl-typematerialandrope.Thankfully,CooperkeepshistoolswellorganizedandIfindahammer,nails,andaheavy-dutystaplegunwithlittleeffort.Goodenough.
TenminutesafterhangingupwithSteph,IbackCooper’struckuptothedoorofthegarage,geteverythingloadedintothebed,wrestlewiththetwelve-footladder,andthenheadtoStephandAlana’shouse.
EverythinglooksnormalwhenIpulluptothelittlebluehouse.Noobvioussignsofdamagefromthefront.AssoonasIringthedoorbell,Stephflingsthedooropenandpullsmeinsidewiththeraintrailingaftermeandapuddlearoundmyfeet.
“It’sthisway,”shesaysafterbriefhellos.Shetakesmetothescreened-inrearporch.Fromthere,Iseethebranchesofatreehangingoffthebackcornerofthehouse.“Wewereluckytomakeitthroughthelasthurricanewiththosebranchesoverhangingthehouse.Itwasonlyamatteroftime.”
“Evankeptsayinghe’dcometrimthemback.”Alanastepsontotheporchwithanarmfulofwettowels.“Butofcourseheforgot.”
Stephglancesather.“Maybetossthoseinthedryersowecanhavesomethingtoputdownwhentheotherssoakthrough?”
Alanasighs.“Hopenoonewantedashowertonight.”
“Givemeahandoutside,”Isaytothem.“Firstthing,we’vegottogetontheroofandpullthosebranchesoff.Withthewindandeverything,leavingthemuptherecouldmakeitworse.”
“What?”Stephlooksatme,aghast.“You’renotgoingoutthere?”
“What’dyouexpect?”Igiveawrylaugh.“Youweren’tcallingCooperformoretowels.”
“Butit’sdangerous.There’slightning.”
Stephhasapoint,ofcourse.Thealternativeisfloodingtheirwholehouseandendingupwithamassiveholeintheirroof.Anyway,Ispentthreeyearsofhighschoolonthestagecraftcrewwiththedramadepartment.IcanbeprettyhandywhenIneedtobe.
“I’mgoingtogetupontheroofandtiearopearoundthebranchestolowerthemdowntoyoutwo.ThenI’vegotsomestufftocoverthehole.It’llbequick.”I’mlying.Itwon’tbequick.Butit’sgottobedone,andthemoreStephkeepsusstandingaroundworrying,theworseit’llget.
“Justtelluswhattodo,”Alanasays,nodding.Thismightbethemostwordsshe’ssaidtomethatweren’taccompaniedbyasarcasticsmirk.That’sprogress,Isuppose.
Togetherthethreeofustrudgethroughthedownpourtogetallthesuppliespositionedinthebackyardandstandtheladderagainstthesideofthehouse.RIPtheirlivingroomcarpet.IknowI’mtakingmylifeintomyownhandsclimbingametalladderinthemiddleofathunderstorm,butit’sbeenseveralminutessincethelastflashoflightning,soItakemychancesandclimbupwiththeropeovermyshoulder.
WearingaborrowedpairofSteph’shikingboots,Iwalkacrosstheslantedroof.Everystepislikebeingoniceskatesforthefirsttime,excepthereIcan’thugtherailingforsupport.Carefulnottomakeanysuddenmovements,Imanagetotietheropearoundthehuge,forkedbranchofthetree,thenballuptheslackandmakemybestHailMarypassatthrowingitoveranexposedlimbofthetreetoactasapulley.Isucceedonthefirstattempt.Hellyeah
Ontheground,StephandAlanatakeuptheweightasbesttheycanasIgingerlyhelppushthebranchoffthesideofthehouse.Astheylowerittotheground,Iimmediatelyseewheresomeshinglesaremissingandafoot-widedenthasbeenpunchedthroughtheroof,waterpouringinside.
Igingerlymakemywaydowntotheground,wherethegirlshaveuntiedtherope.
“Howbadisit?”Stephasks,wipinginvainatthewaterpouringdownherface.We’restandinginaboutfourinchesofmudatthispoint.TheyardhasprettymuchturnedtoliquidandmyfeetsquishinsideSteph’sboots.
“It’snotbig,butthere’sdefinitelyahole,”Ireport.
We’repracticallyshoutingthroughthedeafeningwindandrainbeatingdownonthemetalporchroofandpeltingthetrees.
Ishovemywethairoffmyforehead.“Bestwecandoiscoveritupandhopetherainstopssoon.”
“Whatdoyouneed?”Alanaeyesmeanxiouslyfromundertherimofabaseballcap.Herbrightredhairisplasteredtoherneck.
“I’lltakethestaplegun,hammer,andnailswithme.ThenyouandStephtiethetarptotheropesoIcanpullituponceI’mupthere.”
“Becareful,”Stephremindsmeforthefifthtime.
Iappreciatetheconcern,butreally,Iwanttogetthisdoneandgetdry.Myfingersarealreadyturningpruney,I’vegotawater-loggedwedgieridingupmyass,andthechillhassoakedintomybones.AftertheyraisethetarptomeandIcutalarge-enoughpieceoffwithAlana’spocketknife,ItackitdownwiththestapleguntoholditinplacewhileIputinsomesturdiernails.I’mshiveringsoviolently,myteethchattering,ittakesforevertogetthenailsin.
“Youokay?”Stephshoutsfromtheground.
Igetanailabouthalfwayin,thenmissitwhenthehammerslips,andbendthedamnthing.Oh,tohellwithit.Goodenough.
“Comingdown,”Ishoutback.
Iscurrymyassdowntheladderandweallboltinside,leavingtheropeandtarpintheyard,rightasamassivecrackoflightingseemstostrikerightontopofus.
Inthelaundryroom,westripdowntoourunderwearandtossourwet,muddyclothesinthewashingmachine.
“Thatwasclose.”Alanagivesmeawide,exhilaratedsmilethatIwholeheartedlyreturn,bothofusseeminglyawarethatweescapedbytheskinofourteeth.
“Tooclose,”Stephsayswithafrazzledlook.“WhatwouldItellCooperifyougotelectrocutedupthere?”
“Yeah,no.”Fromthelinencloset,Alanapullsoutthreeblanketsforustowarmupin.“Wewould’vehadtohidethebodyandtellCooperyouskippedtown.”WhenIraiseaneyebrowather,sheshrugs,grinningblithely.“What?Youhaven’tseenCooper’stemper.It’sself-preservationatthatpoint.”
AlanaandIgointothelivingroom.Stephputsonapotofcoffee.I’mshivering,wrappedupinmyblanketcocoononthecouch,whenAlanagetsaphonecall.
“Hey,”sheanswers.“Yeah,wefigureditout.She’shere,actually.Sure.Seeya.”Shesetsthephonedownandtakesaseatbesideme.“They’reontheirwayover.”
“ThinkIcouldborrowsomeclothestogohomein?”Iask.Withmystuffinthewash,I’drathernotleavehereinnothingbutmyunderwearandCooper’srainjacket.
“Noproblem.”
Stephcomesbackwiththecoffee.Inormallytakecreamandamoundofsugar,butI’mnotpickyatthemoment,andscaldinghotblackcoffeeisexactlythethingtochasethefrigidoutofmyblood.
“Okay,sothatwaslegitbadass,”Stephadmits,squeezingonthecouchbetweenAlanaandme.“Iwouldn’thavetakenyouforthemanuallabortype.”SheregardsmewitharegretfulsmilewhenitdawnsonherthatImighttakeitasaninsult.
“Sophomoreyearofhighschool,Ihadthischemistryteacherwhosefetishwasdraggingdownhisstudents’GPAswithimpossiblepopquizzes.Theonlywaytogetextracreditwasthroughvolunteerhours,soIhelpedbuildsetsandstufffortheschoolplays.Itwasfun,actually.ExceptforthetimeIalmostlostafingerwhenRobbieFenloweranadrilloverit.”IshowStephthescaronmyindexfinger.“Mangledfleshandeverything.”
“Eww,that’sdisgusting.”
“Forreal,though,”Alanasays,hercheeksturningashadeofcrimsonnotfarofffromherhair.“Thanksforcomingover.Wewouldhavebeenshitoutofluck.”
“Yeah,”Stephlaughs,“Alana’satotalwuss.She’sterrifiedofheights.”
AlanaglowersatSteph,flashinghermiddlefinger.“Thanks,bitch.”
“What?”Stephshrugs.“It’strue.”
“I’mbeingnice,okay?Givemeabreak.”
Idon’tknowAlanawell,butI’dcallthisabreakthrough.Allittookwasadeath-defyingactofheroismtobreaksomegroundwithher.That’stwo-thirds.NowifIcanfigureouthowtocrackHeidi,I’llbegolden.
Forthenextfifteenminutes,thegirlsandIkeepchatting.WhenItellthemaboutthehotelIpurchased,Stephoffersatonofdetailsabouttheplace,gatheredfromthethreesummerssheworkedthere.Realizingherknowledgeisinvaluable,ImakeamentalnotetoinvitehertothesiteonceItakepossession.Herfamiliaritywiththehotelcouldbearealasset.
“Helphasarrived,ladies!”Evanburststhroughthedoornotlongafter,shirtlessanddripping.“Where’sthefire?”
Somewhere,someonehasfantasizedaboutexactlythis.Whichisweird,becauseevenasI’msleepingwithhisidenticaltwin,ahalf-nakedEvandoesnothingforme.
“You’reabouttwohourstoolate,”Alanasaysflatly,unimpressedwithhisgrandentrance.
“Oh,I’msorry.”EvanshakesthewaterfromhishairwithallthegraceofastraydogandshootsAlanaasarcasticglare.“IguessIdidn’tgetyourretainerfeethismonthtobeatyourbeckandcall.”
Cooperhastopracticallypushhisbrotherthroughthedoortogetinsideandoutofthestorm.Heappearsabitperplexedtoseemeonhisfriends’couch,wrappedupinablanketlikeasoggycorndog.
“Couldn’thelpnoticingmytruckoutside,”hesayswitharaisedeyebrow.“Wentandhelpedyourself,huh?”
Ishrug,meetinghiscrookedgrin.“Stoleabunchofstufftoo.Ithinkyou’reabadinfluenceonme.”
Hehuffsoutalaugh.“Thatright?”
Somethingaboutthegleaminhiseyesstartstofeellikeforeplay.That’showquickithappenswhenhe’saround.Fromzerotofuckmeintensecondsflat.Ican’thelpfeelinglikeeveryoneelsecanseeit,andyetIdon’tcare.CooperHartleywalksintoaroomandIlosemywholedamnmind.Ihateit.Iloveit.
“We’reluckyshecame,”Stephsaysastheguyspourthemselvesacouplecupsofcoffeeinthekitchen.
“Thiscrazybitchgotupontheroofandpatchedtheholeallbyherself.”AlanaholdsouthercoffeemugforEvantorefill,whichhedoes,rollinghiseyesatthesightofthethreeofusbundledupinourcocoons.“Onarelatednote,”sheadds,“nooneusetheguestbathroom.It’sanaquariumnow.”
“I’vealwayshatedthewallpaperinthereanyway,”Stephremarks,andforsomereasonthatgivesAlanaandmethegiggles.
“Holdon.”Coopercomesupshort,standinginthemiddleofthelivingroom.Hisdistrustfulgazesinglesmeout.“Yougotupontheroof?”
“Imighthavefoundanewcalling,”Itellhim,sippingmycoffee.“IshoulddothehotelrenovationmyselflikethepeopleonTV.”
“Ooh.”Stephsmacksmyarm.“Icalldibsonhostingtherealityseries.”
“Istillcan’tbelieveyouboughtTheBeacon,”Alanamarvels.“That’ssofrickin’random.”
CooperslamshiscoffeecupdownontheTVconsole,liquidsplashingoutandstartlingtheroomsilent.“Neitherofyoueventriedtostopher?”
“Coop,itwasfine.”Stephdisregardshisoutburst.“Itwasonlyalittlerain.”
“Itwasn’tyourassupthere.”
Thevenominhisvoiceisstrikinginitsseverity.I’mnotsurewhereallthissuddenangeriscomingfrom.Wasitaparticularlyresponsiblethingtodo?No.Butnobodygothurt.ExceptCooper’sbutt,apparently.
Ifixasmallfrowninhisdirection.“Hey,it’sfine.I’mfine.TheyneededhelpsoIofferedtocomeover.Itwasmydecision.”
“Idon’tgiveashitwhosedumbassideaitwas.Youshouldaknownbetter,”hetellsmewithacondescendingtone,notunliketheoneIheardfromPrestonwhenIshowedhimthehotel.
AndnowI’mkindofpissed.WhydoeseveryguyIdatethinkheneedstobemydad?Ididn’tbreakupwithPrestontostartlettinganotherguytreatmelikeachild.
“Andyoutwo,”heglowersatthegirls,“shouldastoppedher.”
“Dude,chill.”Alanathrowsherheadbackwithaboredsigh.“She’sabiggirl.Andwe’regladshe’shere.”Isensethat’saboutassincereanapologyonegetsoutofAlana.Oureffortstonighthavethawedthecoldshouldershe’sbeengivingme,andIthinkwe’reongoodfootingnow.
“Shoveit,Alana.SheonlypulledthisstuntsoyouandHeidiwouldstopfreezingherout.”
“Idon’trememberaskingyoutospeakforme,”Isnapathim,becausethanks,asshole.Iwasmakingprogresshereandthisisn’thelping.
Cooperstalkstowardthecouch,loomingoverus.“Youcould’vebeenkilled,”hesnapsback.“Incaseyouhadn’tnoticed,we’repracticallyinthemiddleofahurricane.”
Myjawdrops.“Areyoukiddingmerightnow?IncaseIhadn’tnoticed?Andnowyou’resuddenlyworriedaboutmysafety?You’retheonewholeftmeatyourhouseinthemiddleofahurricane.Iwasallalonethere!JustmeandPatriciascreaminglikeabanshee!”
HeblinksatmeasifI’minsane.“HernameisDaisy.”
Istumbletomyfeet,clutchingtheblanketagainstmyselflikeatoga.“I’mnottalkingaboutthedog!I’mtalkingaboutPatricia!”
“Idon’tknowwhoPatriciais,youlunatic!”
“Thelittledeadgirlwhodrownedoutsideyourhouseahundredyearsagoand—”
Istop,myoutragedgazeswingingtowardEvan,whoselipsaretwitchingwildly.
“Youasshole!”Isnarl.“Seriously?”
Evancrosseshisarmsoverhischest.“Mackenzie.Sweetheart.I’mnotgonnaapologizeforyoubeinggullible.Thisone’sonyou.”
Onthecouch,AlanaandStephareinhysterics.Stephhastearsrunningdownhercheeksasshewheezesoutlittledeadgirlbetweengiggles.
Infrontofme,Cooperisclearlytryingnottolaughtoo.
“Don’tyoudare,”Iwarn,jabbingafingerintheairbetweenus.
“Imean,”Coopertremblesashebattleshislaughter,“he’snotwrong.Thatone’sonyou.”
Iglareathim.“He’sasadist!Andyou’reajerk.”
“I’majerk?Remindme,whowentoutontheroofandalmostgotstruckbylightning?”
“OhmyGod,Ididnotalmostgetstruckbylightning.You’rebeingridiculousrightnow.”Indignant,Iplantmyhandsonmyhips,forgettingabouttheblanketwrappedaroundme.
Itfallstothewetcarpet,leavingmeinnothingbutablacksportsbraandneon-pinkbikinipanties.
Evanlickshisbottomlip.“That’swhatI’mtalkin’about.”
Despitetheflickerofheatinhisexpression,Cooper’stoneremainscool.“Getyourclothes,Mac.We’releaving.”
“No,”Isaystubbornly.
Hiseyesnarrow.“Let’sgo.”
“No.Iliveherenow.”
Alanasnickers.
“Mackenzie.”Hetakesamenacingstepforward.“Let’sgo.”
“No.”Mythroatissuddenlydry.Tensionthickenstheair.Idon’tknowifCooperisangryorturnedon,buthisblazingeyesaresuckingupalltheoxygenintheroom.
Cooperglancesathisbrother.“Evan,gimmeyourkeys.Youcantakemytruckhome.”
Withaknowinggrin,Evanreachesintohispocketthentossesasetofkeysathistwin.
Ijutmychin.“Idon’tknowwhatyouthinkishappeningrightnow,butIamnotgoing—”
BeforeIcanblink,I’mbeingflungoverCooper’sshoulder.Staringathiswetbootsashemarchesustothedoor
“Putmedown!”Iyell,butthedownpourthathitsusthemomentweleavethehousedrownsoutmyfuriousrequest.
CooperunceremoniouslyshovesmeintothepassengerseatofEvan’sJeepbeforerunningtothedriver’sside.Whenhestartstheengineandturnstolookatme,Ihavetheanswertotheangryversusturnedonquestion.
Hisgazehasturnedmolten.“I’mgoingtobeinsideyouthemomentwegethome.”Athreat.Apromise.
Turnedon.
Mostdefinitelyturnedon.CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
MACKENZIE
“Shower.Now.”
Cooper’sgrowlyordersendsashiverskitteringthroughme.We’djustrunfromtheJeeptohishouse,gettingsoakedintheprocess.I’mstillinnothingbutmyunderwear,andmyteetharechatteringagain.Luckily,I’mnotcoldformuchlonger.Inhisbathroom,Coopercranksthehotwater,andsoonthere’ssteamrollingoutofthetiledshowerstall.
Istripoutofthesportsbraandpantiesandstepintotheshower,moaninghappilyastheheatsuffusesmybody.Amomentlaterthetemperaturespikesanotherhundreddegrees,becauseanakedCooperiscomingupbehindme.
Strongarmsencircleme,holdingmeagainsthim.Mybackisflushagainsthisbroadchest.Icanfeelthelongridgeofhiserectionpressingagainstmyass.
“Youmakemecrazy.”Hishoarsewordsaremuffledinthesprayoftheshower.
“Really?Seemstomelikeyou’retheonemakingmecrazy.”Ishiverinpleasurewhenhisbigpalmsslideupmyribcagetocupmybreasts.Mynipplespucker.
“Youcould’vegottenhurtuponthatroof.”
“ButIdidn’t.”
“Wereyoureallyscaredherealone?”Hesoundsguilty.
“Kindof?Iwashearingthisshriekingfromoutsideandthelightskeptflickering.”
Hechuckles.“Thewindgetsprettyloudhere.Andweneedtorewiremostofthehouse.Theelectricalsucks.”
“StupidEvan,”Imutter,pissedthathe’dmanagedtomakemequestionmyformerdisbeliefintheexistenceofghosts.
“Howaboutwedon’ttalkaboutmybrotherwhenwe’rebothnaked?”Coopersuggests.
“Goodpoint.”Iturn,reachingbetweenusandtakinghiminmyhand.
Heshudders.“Yeah.Keepdoingthat.”
“What?This?”Icurlmyfingersaroundhisshaftandgiveitateasingstroke.
“Mmmm.”
“Or…”Igiveanotherpump,anotherslowglide,beforesinkingtomyknees.“Icoulddothis?”
Beforehecanrespond,Iwrapmylipsaroundhimandsuckgently.
Coopergroans,andhishipsthrustforward.
Arushofpurepowersurgesthroughmyblood.Icouldgetusedtothisfeeling.ThesatisfactionofknowingI’mtheonewhoputthatneedy,desperatelookonhisruggedface.Thatrightnow,inthismoment,Ihavehiminthepalmofmyhand.Orrather,onthetipofmytongue.Igivealittlelick,andhemakesahuskynoisethatbringsasmiletomylips.
“You’reteasing,”hemutters.
“Uh-huh.”Ilickhimagain,along,wetswipealongthelengthofhim.“It’sfun.”
Hishandcomesdown,longfingerstanglinginmysoakedhair.Thewaterbeatsdownonus.Dropletsclingtohischestbeforedrippingdownward,travelingovermuscleandsinew.
Ibraceonehandonhisfirmthigh,wraptheotheraroundhiserection,andsuckhimdeep.Heguidesmewordlessly,encouragingmebycuppingthebackofmyhead.Myentirebodyisscorching,tautwithdesire.WhenIpeerupatCooper,seethosetattooedarms,thestubbleshadowinghisjaw,andfeelhimthrobbingonmytongue,Idon’tregretasinglethingthatbroughtmetothispoint.
There’sfireinyou,Mac.He’dtoldmethatthenightofthecarnival.SaidIgetoffonthethrill,onlife.Hewasn’twrong.SinceIbrokeupwithPrestonandstarteddatingCooper,I’dneverfeltmorealive.
“Idon’twanttocomethisway,”hemumbles,andthenhe’spullingmetomyfeetandkissingmehardenoughtorobmeofbreath.
Hishandshungrilyroammybodyashistonguetoyswithmine.I’mhotandachyandmorethanreadyforhim.Butforallmythrill-seeking,unprotectedsexisn’tonmythrilllist,andCooperandIonlyjustgottogether.
“Condom.”Iwhisperthereminderagainsthiseagerlips.
Withoutargument,heshutsofftheshowerandwesprintintohisbedroom,drippingwatereverywhereandlaughingatourownurgency.
“Onthebed,”heorders,devouringmynakedbodywithhiseyes.
MywethairsoaksthepillowthemomentIliedown,butI’mtooturnedontofeelbadandCooperdoesn’tseemtomind.He’swearingacondomandontopofmebeforeIcanblink.Hekissesmeagain,hot,greedy,histongueslidingintomymouthatthesametimehethrustsdeep.
Igasp,shakingfromthejoltofpleasurethatsizzlesupmyspine.Iscrapemynailsdownhisdampbackandwrapmylegsaroundhimtodrawhimindeeper
“Youfeelsogood,”hecroaksagainstmylips.
“Sodoyou.”Iliftmyhipstomeethishurriedthrusts,rockingagainsthim.Mindlesswithneed.“Faster,”Ibeg.
Hemovesfaster,anditisn’tlongbeforeI’mseeingstarsandtremblingwithrelease.Hedoesn’tlastmuchlongerthanme.Soonhe’sslammingintomeharder,stillkissingme,bitingmylipashecomes.
Afterward,welieonourbacksandcatchourbreath.Afeelingofpurecontentmentwashesoverme.Ican’trememberthelasttimeIfeltsosatedaftersex.Satedingeneral.
“I’mstillpissedyouwentupontheroof.”
Itwistmyheadtolookathim.“Seriously?”
“Itwasadumbassmove.”
“Istandbyit,”Isayhaughtily.
“Ofcourseyoudo.”Itsoundslikehe’stryingnottolaugh.Ormaybehe’stryingnottostrangleme.
Apparentlywebothsuckatbackingdownfromanargument.Itisn’tinournatures,Isuppose.ButIcanlivewiththat.Iwouldn’trespecthimotherwise.ThelastthingIwantisadoormat.
Ontheotherhand,allthatbickeringcan’tbegood,canit?
Isigh.“Wearguealot.Ifeellikethat’sasecondstrikeagainstus.”
“What’sthefirststrike?”heaskscuriously.
“We’retotalopposites.Andyeah,theysayoppositesattractandfightingcanbeahealthyreleaseofpassionandallthat,butourbackgroundsaresodifferent.”Ihesitate,thenconfess,“SometimesIhavenoideahowwe’resupposedtofitineachother’slives.Andthenaddinthefactthatyou’reanargumentativejackassandIwanttopunchyouhalfthetime,and…”Anothersighslipsout.“LikeIsaid,twostrikes.”
“Mac.”Themattressshiftsashesitsup.Darkeyespeerdownatme.Intense,withahintofamusement.“Firstofall,theysay?Who’stheyandwhocares?Everyrelationshipisdifferent.Somepeoplefight,somepeopledon’t.Somewantcalm,somewantpassion.Wedefineourownrelationship.Andsecond,Ihatetobreakittoyou,butwe’rebothargumentativejackasses.”
Igrinathim.
“Theonlyoppositethingaboutusisourbankaccounts.We’realotmorealikethanyouandyouruptightex.”
“Isthatso?”
“Oh,it’sfuckingso.YouknowwhatIthink?”
“Please,dotell,”Isaygraciously
“Ithinkyouwerewiththatprickbecausehewassafe.Yousaidityourself—hehelpedyoustayrestrained.Andyouneededthat,becauseinyourworld,youcan’tactoutorbeyourselfordoanythingthatmightbringnegativeattentiontoyourfamily,right?Well,youdon’tneedtodothatwithme.Thosetwostrikesyoulistedmightbestrikesinyourotherworld,buthere,youandme,we’reexactlywhoandwhatweneedtobe.”
Myheartsqueezes.Ohhell.Whenhesaysstufflikethat,hemakesitprettydamnhardtonotcatchfeelings.
***
Bonnie:Won’tbehometonight!Trynottomissmetoomuch,k?Iknowit’llbetoughbutIhavefaithinyou!
Igrinatthetext.Bonnieisthebest.Sittingupinbed,Itypeaquickresponse.
Me:Oooh,stayingoutonaschoolnight,youbadgirl.Letmeguess,you’rehavingaslumberpartywith…Edward?
Bonnie:YoumeanJason.HejustlookslikeEdward.Andnope.
Me:Todd?
Bonnie:Outofrotation.
Iscanmybraintryingtorememberwhoelseshe’dbeenseeingthesepastfewweeks.ButI’vekindofbeendistractedbyallthewildsexI’mhavingwithCooper.
Bonnie:Tellyawhat,hun.Gimmethenameofyourtownie,andI’llspillallthebeansaboutmynewbeau.
She’slikeadogwithabone,thisone.Bonnie’sbeenonmycasedayandnightaboutwhoI’mdating.IfeelbadhidingCooperfromher—shewastherewhenitstarted,afterall—butIalsoknowthatknowledgeinthewronghandsisaweapon.I’mnotsureI’mreadytoarmthatcannonyet.
Me:Mytownieisstillmydirtylittlesecret.
Bonnie:FINE!Thenmine’sasecrettoo.
Twosecondslater,shetextsagain.
Bonnie:Whoarewekiddin’?WebothknowIcan’thideanythingfromyou.HisnameisBenandheisbeautiful!
ShefollowsitupwithascreenshotofanInstagrampicturefeaturingatallboywiththefaceofaNorsegod.
Me:Niiiiice.Havefun.
Bonnie:OhIwill.Seeyoutomorrow!
Isetthephoneonthenightstandandpickupmyanthropologytextbook.It’sMondaynight,andwhileI’dratherbenakedinCooper’sbedrightnow,wespentallweekendtogether.SoI’mforcingmyselftostayinthedormtonight.Notjusttokeepontopofmycoursework,butbecausetoomuchtimetogethercouldleadtoburnoutandthelastthingIwantisforCoopertogetsickofme.GodknowsI’mnowhereclosetobeingsickofhim.Ispend,conservatively,threefullhoursadayfantasizingabouthim.
So,likeagoodgirl,Ifinishallmyreadingsforanthropologyandbio,writeanoutlineformyEnglishLitpaper,andgotobedattheveryreasonabletimeoftenforty-five.
Alas,thegoodnight’ssleepI’dhopedfordoesn’tcome.
Aroundtwointhemorning,I’mrudelyawakenedbythreeconsecutivephonecallsfromEvan.
Followedbyatextmessagethatreads:Forgetit.Notanemergency.
Ifanyoneelsehadbeenserialcallingmeinthemiddleofthenightwhilemaintainingitwasn’tanemergency,Iwould’vetoldthemtofuckrightoff.Butthefactthatit’sEvangivesmepause.Weonlyrecentlyexchangednumbers,afterthenightofthestormwhenIhadnowaytoreachhim.SoI’mprettysurehewouldn’tbeabusingphoneprivilegesunlessitwas,indeed,anemergency.Oratleastsomewhatdire.
Ishovemyhairoutofmyeyesandcallhimback.“Youokay?”Idemandwhenheanswers.
“Notreally.”There’saheavinessweighingdownthosetwowords.
“Whereareyou?”
“OutsideSharkey’s.Canyoucomegetme?”hemumbles.“Iknowit’slateandIdidn’twanttocallbut—”
“Evan,”Iinterrupt.“It’sfine.Juststayput.I’monmyway.”CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
MACKENZIE
Fifteenminuteslater,IjumpoutofanUberandscanthesidewalkinfrontofSharkey’sSportsBar.Itdoesn’ttakelongtospothim.Evan’ssittingonthecurb,lookinglikeamonth’sworthofsludgeatthebottomofatrashcanthat’sbeenleftintherain.
“Whathappenedtoyou?”Iask,notingthebloodsmearedonthesideofhisface,hisshirttornattheshoulder,andhandsscrapedandswollen.Icansmellthealcoholonhimfromtwofeetaway.
Withhisarmsproppeduponhisbentknees,helooksexhausted.Defeated,even.Hebarelyraiseshisheadtoacknowledgeme.Whenhespeaks,hisvoiceisstrainedandweak.“Canyougetmeoutofhere?”
It’sthenIrealizeI’mhislastresort.Thatturningtomeforhelpismorepainfulthanwhateverhe’senduredtonightandwhatheneedsthemostnowisgrace.
“Yeah.”Ibenddowntogatheroneofhisarmsovermyshouldertohelpbearhisweight.“I’vegotyou.”
Aswe’regettingup,atrioofguysroundsthecorner.WearingtheirGreeklettersontheirshirts,theyshoutsomethingslurredandincoherentastheyapproach.
“Oh,hey,baby,”onesayswhenhisblearyeyeslandonme.Aslimygrinappears.“Whatyougotthere?Findyourselfagutterstray?”
“Pissoff,asshole.”Evangrumblesahalf-heartedinsult.Hecanbarelystandupstraight,leaningonmeforbalance,butthatisn’tenoughtodeterhimfrompickingafightapparently.Gottoadmirehisfortitude.
“It’sthisfuckeragain?”Thetallestofthefratboysstaggerscloser,peeringatEvanbeforeturningtohisbuddies.“Lookwho’sback,boys.”
Ilevelthethreeguyswithadeadlyglare.“Leaveusalone.”
“Haven’tyouhadenough,myman?”Thethirdguycomescloser,duckingtomeetEvan’seyesasEvanfightstolifthishead.“Thoughtyouwerefuckinghilariouswhenyouweretryingtoscamus,huh?Notlaughingnow,areyou?Towniepieceoftrash.”
Myeyesbecomemurderous.I’mtired,cranky,andI’vegotmyhandsfullwithEvan.There’snotanounceofpatienceleftfortheseidiots.
“Hey,Iknowyou,”thetallonesuddenlysays,squintingatme.
“Idoubtthat,”Isnap.
“No,Ido.Iknowyou.You’rePrestonKincaid’sgirlfriend.”Helaughsgleefully.“Yeah,you’reKincaid’sgirl.I’minhisfrat.Isawyoutwoatsomesororitypartyawhileback.”
Strandsofuneaseclimbupmythroat.Wonderful.ThelastthingIneedistonight’sactivitiesgettingbacktoPreston.ItightenmygriponEvanandsay,“Ihavenoideawhoyouare,dude.Now,please,getoutofourway.”
“DoesKincaidknowyou’remessingaroundonhim?”Hislaughterturnsmaniacal.“Andwiththispieceofshit,noless?Jesus.Womenaresuchtrash.”
“Trash,”oneoftheotherguysechoesdrunkenly.
Whenbothofthemtryadvancingcloser,I’veofficiallyhadenough.
“Backoff,motherfuckers.”Myvoicecrackslikeawhipoffthebrickwallofthebar.
“Orwhat?”mocksthetallone.
Withanangry,impatientgrowl,Ishovemyhandinmypurseandwhipoutacanofpepperspray,aimingitatthefratbrosuntiltheystaggerback.“Ipromiseyou,I’mcrazierthanIlook.Pleasetestme.”
Somewhereinthedistance,asirenblares.It’senoughtospookthem.“Man,forgetthisbitch,let’sgetoutofthere.”
Theyhurrytopileinacaracrossthestreetandflee,tiressquealingastheypullahardU-turn.
“Wherethehelldidthatcomefrom?”Evanmanagesafaintlaugh,stillclingingtomewithonearmovermyshoulder.
“Allwomenarewolverines.”
“Clearly.”
“I’vealsodoneafairbitofsolotraveling,whichifnothingelsehastaughtmetobepreparedforwhatlurksintheshadows.”Withthat,IallbutdraghimtohisJeepandfishhiskeysoutofhispocket.HemanagestoclimbintothepassengerseatwhileIslidebehindthewheel.
“Ican’tgohome,”hesays.Eyesclosed,hisheadlullsagainstthewindow.Tooheavyforhisneck.
Iadjustthedriver’sseattoaccommodatemyshorterlegs.“Okay…StephandAlana’shouse?”
“No.Please.”Hespeaksingustsofbreath.“Coopcan’tfindout.”
I’mnotsurewhyorwhichparthe’sreferringto,butIunderstandhisdesperation.WhichleavesmenochoicebuttobringhimbacktoTallyHall.
Gettinghimuptomydormroomonthefourthfloorisachallenge,butwemakeitthereinonepiece.Onceinside,Isithimontheedgeofthebathtubtocleanhimup.Asenseofdéjàvuhitsme.WhatisitabouttheseHartleyboys,huh?
AsI’mwipingthebloodfromhisfacewithawetwashcloth,Ican’tignorehisgazefollowingmyeverymove.Hehassomebruisingandsmallcuts,butnothingserious.Justneedtodabalittleointmentandapplyacouplebandages.
“Sorelosers,”hesays.
“Huh?”
“Thoseguys.Ibeatthematpool,andtheydidn’ttakeitwell.Shouldn’tplaywithmoneytheyaren’tpreparedtolose.”
“Doyoualwayssharkpeopleoutnumbered?”
Hebreathesoutalaughthenwinces,holdinghisside.“IthoughtIhadthehomefieldadvantage.TurnedouttherewereafewmorepeopleholdingagrudgethanIfigured.”
Icockabrowathim.“Don’tyoutownieshaveasayingaboutshittingwhereyoueat?”
“Yeah,Imighthaveheardthatone.”
“You’vegottodiversify.”
“Adaptordie,isthatit?”
“Somethinglikethat.”OnceI’vegothimfixedup,Igethimaglassofwaterandsomeaspirinandbringhimanicepack.“YoucansleepitoffinBonnie’sroom,”Ioffer.“She’souttonightandIknowshewon’tmind.”
“She’dbetternot.Imadehercomethreetimesthatnight.”
Ichokeoutalaugh.“Howkindofyou.”Man,itseemslikeagesagothatEvanandBonniehadwandereddownthebeachtogether.Adaylater,shewasalreadychasingafterhernextconquest.Nomuss,nofussbetweenthosetwo.
IprophimontheedgeofBonnie’sbedandproceedtoundresshiminthemostclinicalofmanners.ItrynottostareathisbodyandcompareittoCooper’s,butit’sdifficult.Hischestisrightthere,andyes,it’sasmuscularashisbrother’s.Notattoos,though.AtleastuntilIhelphimrolloverandrealizehehasahugeoneonhisback.It’stoodarktomakeouttheink.
“Thankyou,”hesaysoncehe’slyingdown.
Thoughhedoesn’toffermorethanthat,Iknowit’ssincere.WhateverisgoingonbetweenhimandCooper,it’senoughthatturningtomeforhelpwasthemoreattractiveoption.ItakeitasastepintherightdirectionthatEvantrustsmethismuch.Babysteps.
Ipathimgentlyonthehead,asifhe’sachildwithaslightfever.“You’rewelcome.”
Thenextmorning,I’mgettingreadyforclasswhenEvanburstsoutofBonnie’sroomwithhisphonetohisear.
“Yeah,Iknow,Iknow.I’monmyway.IsaidIheardyou,fuck.”He’sstumblingaroundtryingtopullhisjeansupwhilerummagingthroughBonnie’sroomforsomething.“Tenminutes.”
WhenIquestionhimwithalook,heholdsuphisfingerstomimedanglingkeys.Keys!IstillhavehisJeepkeysinmyroom.Idashoffandgrabthem,thentossthemathim.Hesnatchesthemeasilyfromtheair.
“No,”hesaysintothephone.“Dude,I’mleavingrightnow,chillthefuckout.”
Cooper?Imouthathim,towhichEvannodshishead.Iholdmyhandoutforthephone.He’sskepticalatfirst,thenrelents
“Here,theprincesswantstotalktoyou.”Thistime,insteadofasarcasticsneer,there’sasmileinhiseyes.Maybeaplea.
“Hey,”Isay,notgivingCooperachancetocutmeoff.“IinvitedEvanoutforbreakfastbuttheplacewasslammedandIlosttrackoftime.Ijusthadtoorderthesoufflé,youknow.”
“Breakfast,huh?”He’swary,ofcourse.Asheshouldbe.
ButIsticktothestory.“Yeah,Ithoughtit’dbeachanceforustochat,youknow?Alittlefamilytime.”
IcanpracticallyfeelCooper’seyesrollingthroughthephone.
“Whatever.Tellhimtogethisasstowork.”
“K,smooches,bye,”Isingsweetly,becausethemoreIthrowCooperoffbalance,themorehe’llacceptthiscompletelypreposterouspremise.Endingthecall,IhandthephonebacktoEvan.“Ithinkheboughtit.”
Hegivesmealookofconfusedamusement.“You’realife-saver.”
“Iknow.NowcanIaskwhyI’mlyingtoyourbrother?”
Runninghishandsthroughhishair,Evansighs.He’sthetypewhohatesexplaininghimself.Igetthat.Butfair’sfair.
“Coop’salreadyonmycase,”hesaysreluctantly.“Ifhefindsoutaboutlastnight,he’llforceaninterventiononmeorsomedumbshit.”
“Doyouneedone?”IknowCooper’sbeenconcernedthatEvanisspiraling,buthehasn’ttoldmeanyspecifics.Judgingbylastnight,Isuspectboozeandfightingarepossibleculprits.
“Definitelynot,”Evanassuresme.
I’mnotsurewhohe’stryingtoconvince,butitdoesn’tworkoneitherofus.
Iletoutabreath.“Makemeapromise.”
Herollshiseyes.It’sthesetimesIforgetheandCooperaretwodifferentpeople.
“I’llcoverforyouaslongasyou’rehonestwithme.Ifyouwon’ttalktoCooper,I’llfeelbetterifyouatleastletmekeepaneyeonyou.”
“Idon’tneedababysitter.”Hepunctuatesthatwithadarkscowl.
Yup.Igetwhytheyfightsomuch.Cooper’soverbearingandEvanisanobstinateass.Togethertheycreateaperfectstorm.
“Idon’twanttobeone,”Itellhim.“Sohowaboutwesettleforfriends.Deal?”
Helickshislipstosmotheragrin.It’salmostcharming.“Alright,princess.Deal.”
Weshakehands.Igiveitaboutafifty-fiftychancethatheholdsuphisendofthebargain.Still,it’smilesfromwherewestarted,andI’msmartenoughtotakewhatIcanget.CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
COOPER
Mac’sgotyetanotherinspectionatthehoteltoday,soItaketheafternoonofftogotherewithher.Shesaysit’ssoIcantranslateforher,butIthinkshe’snervousaboutwhatshe’sgottenherselfinto.Can’tblameher.EvenifIhadboatloadsoffamilymoney,jumpingintosomethingascomplexasrenovatingahotel—nottomentionrunningthedamnthing—wouldmakemeawholelotofanxioustoo.Soastheinspectordoeshisthing,MacandIhangoutontheboardwalkwaitingfortheverdict.
“I’mstartingtothinkonedoesnotsimplybuyacondemnedhotel,”shesaysglumly.
Ican’thelpasmile.“Thatso?”
“Yup.”ShebendstopetDaisy,who’ssittingatherfeet.Thatdogdoesn’tleavemealoneforasecondwhenwe’rehome,andthenassoonasMaccomesaround,shedoesn’tknowme.
“Youcanwalkaway.”FromwhatIunderstand,thefinalsaleofthepropertyisstillpendingthecompletionofthislastinspection.Crossingt’sandallthat.
“No,I’mcommitted.It’sjustoverwhelming,youknow?Thinkingabouteverythingthereistodo.HowmuchIdon’tknow.”
“Soyou’llfigureitout.”
Shebitesherlip.“Right.”Thenshenods.Swiftly,decisively.“You’reright.Iwillfigureitout.”
ThisiswhatIdigabouther.Herconfidence.Thecourage.Shehadanideaandsomegumptionandwentforit.Mostpeoplespendtheirwholelivestalkingthemselvesoutoftheirdreams.Pointoutallthereasonsit’stoohardorfarfetched.NotMac.
“Whenyoulookatthisplace,doyoustillfeelthesamewayasyoudidwhenyouputtheofferin?”Iask.
Shesmiles,thegleamofambitionfreshinhereyesasshestaresatthecrumblingbuilding.“Yes.”
“Pullthetrigger.Can’twinifyoudon’tplay.”
“That’sthelottery,”shesays,nudgingmyshoulder.
“Samedifference.”
Tobehonest,I’mgladsheaskedmehere.Evenifonlyformoralsupport.Thereisn’tmuchIcangiveagirllikeMackenzieCabot.Nothingshedoesn’talreadyhaveorcan’tgetonherown.Weallwanttofeeluseful,though.Idon’tknowwhenithappened,butsomewherealongtheway,Istartedneedinghertoneedme.
Afteracouplehours,theinspectorcomesoutwithhisclipboardandrunsdownthelistwithMac.Mostofitweexpected,somewedidn’t.Allofitcarriesapricetag.
“What’sthebottomline?”Macaskshimafterhe’sgoneovereverybulletitemlinebyline.
“It’llcostya,”themansaysthroughhisovergrownmustache.“Thatsaid,there’snoreasonthisplacecan’tbeoperationalagain.Iwishyouluck.”
Afterahandshake,hegivesherthepaperworkandwalksofftohiscar.
“So?”Iprompt,takingDaisy’sleashfromher.
Shehesitates.Onlyforasecond.Thenshesmileswryly.“GuessIbettercallthebank.”
Gottaadmit,it’skindofhotthatshecanjustcallupafewmillionlikeplacingabetonthePanthers.Shewearsitwell.
Aftershegetsoffthephone,wetakeawalkonthebeachandletDaisyrunaroundalittle.
“Solisten.”Macsiftsthroughthesandwithhertoes,pickingoutshellsthatcatchhereye.Shescoopsoneup,admiresit,thendropsitbackinthesand.“IknowI’moutofmydepthhere.I’mbetteratwritingchecksthanrewiringabuilding.”
“That’snosweat.Iknoweveryoneintensquaremileswhodoesthiskindofwork.”
“That’swhatImean.Youknowthearea,thepeople.”
There’sanaskcoming,andIcan’timaginewhatitcouldbethathasherdancingaroundthesubject.
“Spititout,Cabot.”
Sheroundsonme,archinganeyebrow.“IwanttohireyouruncleLevitodothework.”
Ifurrowmybrow.“Whatpart?”
“Allofit.Asmuchashecanhandle.Whateverhecan’t,Iwanthimtosub-contractouttopeoplehetrusts.Theguyshe’dgettodohismother’shouse.Keepitinthefamily,sotospeak.”
“Wow.Okay…”Imean,I’dexpectedhertopickhisbrain,maybe.Getsomereferences.Maybetosshimaprojectortwo.
Thisis…alot.
“Youseemunsure,”Macobserves.
“No,no.I’mnot.It’s,uhh…”
“Abigcommitment?”She’ssmiling.Grinning,actually.Ithinkthischickislaughingatme.
“I’mnotafraidofcommitment,ifthat’swhatyou’resuggesting.”
“Uh-huh,”shesays.
“I’llcommittheshitoutofyou.”
“Good.”Thinkingshe’salreadywon,shespinsonhertoesandresumeswalking.“Thenwehaveadeal.You’llsetupameetingwithLevisowecandiscussscopeandanequitableprice.”
“Hangon,princess.He’sgototherjobsonthebooksalready.Idon’tknowwhatkindoftimehehas.Don’tgetaheadofyourself.”
“Details.”Shewavesherhandatme.“Allcanbenegotiated.Wherethere’sawill,there’saway.”
“Okay,I’llputtheoffertohimifyoukeepthecheesyplatitudestoyourself.”
MacpicksupapieceofdriftwoodandtossesitforDaisy.“Imakenopromises.”
Irollmyeyesatherback.Thiswomaniskindofinsufferable,butIloveit.Somehow,shegotundermyskin.Evenwhenshe’sbeingobnoxious,I’mstillintoit.
“Behonest,”IsaybeforeIcanstopmyself.“Doesthiswholethingevenputadentinthetrustfund?”
Ihesitatetoevenguessatanumber.Atacertainpoint,allthezerosstarttoruntogether.ThedifferencebetweenahundredmillionandfivehundredmillionisthedifferencebetweenswimmingtoChinaandNewZealandtoadrowningman.
Shegoesquietforasecond.Thenanother.Anapparentuneasestealsthehumorfromherface.“Actually,Ican’ttouchmytrustfunduntilI’mtwenty-five.”
Thatgivesmepause,becausehowdidshebuyahotel,then?Iknowherparentsaren’tgivingherthemoney.She’sbeenvocalabouttheirlackofapprovalforherambitions.
“Unlessyou’vebeenadrugkingpinthiswholetime—I’dbetotallysympatheticifyouwere—wherethehelldoesatwenty-year-oldgetthatkindofcash?”
“You’regoingtothinkit’ssilly,”shesays,stoppingtostareattheground.
I’mgettingalittlenervous.Suddenly,I’mwonderingifI’dbeokayifshetoldmeshewasacamgirlorsomething.Orworse,ifsheaskedmetojoinheressentialoilspyramidscheme.
Fortunately,sheworksupthenervetospititoutbeforemyimaginationreallytakesoff.
“Yourememberthattimeyoushowedmethefunnyboyfriendstory?Theonewherethegirlwaslookingfortamponsinherdate’smom’sbathroom?”
Myeyebrowsflyup.Whatdoesthathavetodowithanything?
“Yeah…”
“Ibuiltthatwebsite.BoyfriendFails.WhichspunofftoGirlfriendFails.”
“Wait,forreal?”
Sheshrugs.“Yeah.”
Holyshit.“Andyoumadeallthismoneyfromthat?”
Anotherembarrassedshrug.Itconfusesme,becausewhatisshesoshyabout?
“Mackenzie,that’sbadass,”Iinformher.
“Youdon’tthinkit’sstupid?”Shelooksatmewiththesebig,hopefulgreeneyes.I’mnotsureifIshouldfeellikeadickthatshethoughtI’djudgeherforthis.
“Hellno.I’mimpressed.WhenIwastwenty,Iwasstillburningmacandcheese.”Imean,I’mstillburningmacandcheese.
“Myparentshateit.”Hervoicegrowssour.Asitdoeseverytimethesubjectcomesup,butmoresolately.“You’dthinkIgotatattooonmyforeheadorsomething.Theykeepwaitingformeto‘growoutofit.’”Shemakesangryairquotes,kickingsand.“Theydon’tgetit.”
“What’snottoget?Theirdaughtercan’tevenrentacaryetbutshe’salreadyaself-mademillionaire.”
“They’reembarrassed.Theythinkit’scrassandsillyhighschoolnonsense.And,whatever,maybeitis.Butwhat’ssowrongwiththatifitmakespeoplelaugh,youknow?Farasthey’reconcerned,mybusinessisadistraction.Alltheywantformeistoframearespectabledegreeandmarryrich,soIcanbelikeMomandsitoncharityboards.It’saboutappearances.It’sallfashiontothem.”
“See,thatsoundsdumbashell.”Ishakemyhead,becauseItrulydon’tgetit.Richpeoplebuyingstatussymbolstoimpressotherrichpeoplewhoboughtthesamestatussymbolstoimpressthem.Aviciouscycleofwasteandpretension.“Hundredsofthousandsofdollarstoauniversityjustforlooks?Fuckthatnoise.”
“Ididn’tevenwanttogotoGarnet—itwastheonlywaythey’dsupportmygapyearsoIcouldhavethetimetobuildmyappsandexpandthebusiness.ButsinceIgothere,allI’vebeenthinkingaboutistacklinganewchallenge,findinganewbusinessventurethatexcitesmeasmuchasmywebsitesdidwhenIwasfirstlaunchingthem.”
“Well,youknowwhatIthink?Doyou,andtohellwhateveryoneelsethinks.”
“Easiersaidthandone,”shesayswiththatfamiliartoneoftrepidation.
Daisybringsusasmallhermitcrabhidinginitsshell,whichMactakesandsetsbackinthesandbeforefindinganothersticktothrowinstead.
“Yeah,sowhat?”Whereshe’sconcerned,herparentshavealwaysbeenadauntingobstacletorealizingwhatshereallywantsoutoflife.Forsomeonewitheveryadvantage,that’sbullshit.She’sstrongerthanthat.“Ifyouwantitbadenough,fightforit.Takethebruises.What’stheworsttheycando,cutyouoff?Ifyou’rehonestwiththemabouthowmuchthisallmeanstoyouandtheystilldon’tsupportyourdreams,howmuchareyoureallygoingtomissthem?”
Sheletsoutasoftsigh.“Honestly,sometimesIwonderiftheylovemeatall.Mostofthetime,I’maproporapieceonaboardintheirlargergameofstrategy.I’mplastictothem.”
“Icouldborethehelloutofyouwithcrappyfamilystories,”Itellher.“SoIgetthat.It’snotthesame,buttrustme,Igetfeelingaloneandunloved.Alwaystryingtofillthatvoidwithsomething,anythingelse.Icanalmostforgivemydadforbeingameanbastard,youknow?Hehadanaddiction.Itturnedeverythinghetouchedtoshit.Eventuallykilledhim.Iwasn’teventhatsadaboutit,exceptthenallwehadleftwasourmom.Forawhile,anyway,butthenshesplittoo.Thetwoofthemcouldn’tgetawayfromusfastenough.”Mythroatclosesup.“I’vespentsomuchtimescaredthatI’llturnintooneofthem.AfraidnomatterwhatIdo,I’mfightingagainstthecurrentandI’llendupdeadoradeadbeat.”
Fuck.
I’veneversaidthosewordsoutloudbefore.
It’sterrifyinghowmuchMacbringsoutofme.HowmuchIwanthertoknowme.It’sterrifyinghowIdon’tfeelincontrolofmyheartthat’sracingtocatchher.Tokeepher.Worriedthatatanymomentshemightcometohersensesandditchmyass.
“Hey.”Thenshetakesmyhand,andallIcanthinkisthatI’dstandintrafficforthisgirl.“Let’smakeapact:Wewon’tleteachotherbecomeourparents.Thebuddysystemneverfails.”
“Deal.”It’ssocornyIhalfmanagealaugh.“Seriously,though.Don’twastethismoment.Ifyourheart’stellingyoutofollowsomething—goforit.Don’tletanyoneholdyouback,becauselifeistoodamnshort.Buildyourempire.Slaydragons.”
“YoushouldputthatonaT-shirt.”
Daisycomesback,curlingaroundMac’sfeet.Guessshefinallyranherselfragged.IputherontheleashasMacandIsitinthesand.Acomfortablesilencefallsbetweenus.Idon’tunderstandhowshemanagestoinstillequalpartschaosandpeaceinsideme.Whenwe’rearguing,sometimesIwanttothrottleher.Shedrivesmemad.Shedoescrazyshitlikeclimbingmetalladdersduringlightningstorms.Andthensuddenlywehavemomentslikethis,wherewe’resittingsidebyside,quiet,lostinourownthoughtsyetcompletelyintune.Connected.Idon’tknowwhatitmeans.Whywecanyellateachotheronesecond,andbetotallyatpeacethenext.Maybeitjustmeanswe’rebothnuts.
OrmaybeitmeansI’mfallingforher.CHAPTERTHIRTY
MACKENZIE
Afewdaysaftermyhotelinspection,ImeetupwithStephandAlanaatasandwichshopintown.Seemsstrangethatacoupleofweeksagowewerebarelyonspeakingterms,andnowwechatalmosteveryday.ItstartedwhenStephloopedmeintoagrouptextwithAlanatosharesomepicturesofEvanontheirrooffixingtheholefromthestorm.Hisjeanshadriddendown,revealinghalfhisass,andshe’dcaptionedthepicswith:Someone’sdoingahalf-assjob.ThenAlanasharedafunnyscreenshotfromBoyfriendFails,and—althoughIwasworrieditmightsoundlikeabragorserveasanotherglaringallusiontothetopicofmoney—IconfessedtothegirlsthatI’mtheonewhocreatedthosesites.Luckily,itonlymadethemlikememore.
“Settlesomethingforus,”Alanasays,gesturingacrossthetablewithapicklespear.“Trueorfalse—Cooperhashisdicktattooed.”
Ialmostcoughupafrenchfry.“What?”
“Afewyearsback,therewasthisstoryaboutsomechickwhogotbangedontheroofofthepolicestationonFourthofJulyweekend,”Stephsaysbesideme.“Andtherewasapicturegoingaroundofadudewithatattooonhisdick,butwenevernaileddownwhoitwas.”
“Youdidn’taskHeidithisquestion?”
Thegirlsstareatmewithapprehension.
“What,wasInotsupposedtoknowaboutthat?”Mytoneisglib.I’dthoughtitwasobviousthosetwohadbeenhookingupatsomepointintherecentpast.
StephandAlanaexchangealook,silentlydebatinghowtorespond.
Iofferashrug.“It’sfine.Igetit,she’syourbestfriend.”
“Theydidn’tdateoranything,”Stephsaysasaconsolation.“Itwas,youknow,friendswithbenefits.”
ForCooper,maybe.Butwhenitcomestothosetypesofarrangements,Iknowthatoneperson,withoutfail,isalwaysmoreinvestedthantheother.
“Heidi’sstillgotathing,”Alanaaddsflatly,neveronetomincewords.
I’dalreadysuspectedthatunrequitedfeelingsormaybeabreakupwasthesourceofHeidi’sirrationalhatredofme.Myinstinctsarerarelywrongaboutthesethings,soAlana’sconfirmationisalmostvindicating.
“Ifigured,”Itellthem.“Butmaybeshe’llbereadytomoveononeofthesedays.Coopersaidthere’ssomeguyinterestedinher?Jaysomething?”
Thatearnsmetwogroans.
“Don’tgetmestartedonthatone,”Alanagripes.“Yeah,IwanthertogetoverthisCoopthingsolifecangobacktonormal—butGenevieve’sbrother,ofallpeople?”
“Who’sGenevieve?”
“Evan’sex,”Stephanswers.“GenlivesinCharlestonnow.”
“Imissher,”Alanasays,visiblyglum.
Stephsnorts.“SodoesEvan.Otherwisehewouldn’tbetryingtobangheroutofhissystem.Orrather,bangeveryoneelse.”Sheflipsherponytailoveroneshoulderandturnstogrinatme.“It’sallsuperincestuoushereintheBay.EvanandGenevieve.HeidiandCooper—althoughthankGodthat’sover.Friendsshouldn’thookup,it’sjustaskingfortrouble.”HergazepointedlyshiftstoAlana.“Andthenwe’vegotthisbitchherewhokeepsgoingbackforsecondswithTate?Orareweonthirdsnow?Fourths?”
“Tate?”Iechowithagrin.“Oh,he’shot.”
Alanawavesherhand.“Nah,that’sdonenow.Idon’tlikethefriendswithbenniesthingeither.”
“I’veneverdoneit.”Igiveaself-deprecatingshrug.“MyhookuphistoryconsistsofCooper,andafour-yearrelationshipwithaguywhowasapparentlysleepingwithanythingthatmoves.”
Stephgrimaces.“Honestly,Ican’tevenbelieveyouweredatingthatcreep.”
Ifeelagroovedigintomyforehead.“DoyouknowPreston?”There’dbeenatroublingsenseoffamiliarityinherstatement.
“What?Oh,no,Idon’t.Imean,Iknowofhim.Coopertoldushewascheatingonyou—Ijustassumeallcheatersarecreeps.”Stephreachesforhercoffee,sipsit,turningherfaceawayfrommeforasecondbeforeglancingoverwithareassuringsmile.“Andlook,don’tworryaboutHeidi.Cooper’scrazyaboutyou.”
“AndHeidi’sbeensufficientlythreatenedtobehaveherself,”Alanafinishes,thenreactswithaknittedbrowwhenStephgivesherthefacialequivalentofakickunderthetable.They’reaboutassubtleasajackhammer.
It’snotthefirsttimeI’vecaughtasimilarexchangebetweenthetwoofthem,asifthey’rehavinganentireunspokenconversationI’mnotapartof.MyrelationshipwithStephandAlanahaswarmedsignificantly—andIhavenodoubtsaboutCooper’ssinceritywherethetwoofusareconcerned—butIgetthedistinctimpressionthere’salotmoreIdon’tknowaboutthistight-knitgroup.Obviously,Ican’texpecttofullypenetratethecircleoftrustsoquickly.
Butwhydoesitfeelliketheirsecretsareatmyexpense?
Idon’tgetthechancetoponderthatquestion,asmyphonevibratesinmypocket.It’smymother.Again.Iwokeupthismorningtoseveralmissedtextmessagesfromher,pickingupmid-rantfromtheseveralmissedtextmessagesfromthenightbefore.I’vetakentoperiodicallyblockinghernumberjusttogetsomepeacefromherblowingupmyphone.It’sonetiradeafteranotherovermybreakupwithPreston.There’snothinglefttosayonthesubject.Forme,anyway.
Butitseemsmymotherisdeterminedtoforcemetotalkaboutit.Iglanceatmyphonetofindshe’sabandonedtextingandisnowcallingme.Isendthecalltovoicemailjustasa911textfromBonniepopsuptoalertmethatjudgmentdayhasarrived.
“What’swrong?”Stephleansovermyshoulder,apparentlyalarmedattheblooddrainingfrommyface.
“Myparentsarehere.”
Well,nothere.Atmydorm.PoorBonnie’sinlockdownmodeawaitingfurtherinstructions.
Bonnie:WhatdoIdowiththem?
Me:Sendthemtothecoffeeshop.I’llmeetthemthere.
Iknewthiswascoming.I’vebeendodgingcallsandtexts,makingmyselfscarce.Butitwasonlyamatteroftimebeforetheycameformyreckoning.
Noonewalksoutonmyfather.
Ibailonlunchwithanapologyandhaulassbacktocampuswithmybloodpressurespiking.Afterashortphonecall,thebestIcoulddowaslurethemtoapublicvenue.Myparentswouldn’tdaremakeascene.Here,Ihavethestrategicadvantage—andanescaperoute.
Still,whenIwalkinthecafétoseethemseatedbythewindow,awaitingtheirroguedaughter,Istruggletoputonefootinfrontoftheother.NomatterhowoldIget,I’mstillsixyearsold,standinginourlivingroomasmyfatherberatesmeforspillingfruitpunchonmydressbeforetheChristmascardphotoshoot,afterhespecificallytoldmeIcouldonlyhavewater,whilemymotherstandsfraughtinthecornerbythebarcart.
“Hey,”Igreetthem,drapingmypursestrapoverthechair.“SorryifIkeptyouwaiting.Iwashavinglunchwithsomefriendsintown—”
IhaltwhenIreadtheexpressionofimpatienceonmyfather’sface.He’sdressedinasuit,onesleevepusheduptoexposehiswatch.Igetthemessage.Loudandclear.He’smissingmeetingsandwhoknowswhatotherworld-alteringeventstotendtohiserrantoffspring.HowdareImakehimdeigntoparent
Thenthere’sMotherDearest,who’stappinghermanicurednailsonherleatherChanelclutchasifI’malsoholdingherup.Honestly,Icouldn’tsaywhatthehellshedoesallday.I’msurethere’sacallwithacaterersomewhereinherschedule.Herweeksareanendlesshazeofdecisionslikechickenorfish.
Forasplitsecond,asthetwoofthemglareatmewithannoyanceanddisdain,Iseethetemplateoftheirlivessuperimposedonmyfuture,anditstitchesupmyside.Mythroatcloses.Afull-blownpanicexplodesthroughmynervoussystem.Iimaginethisishowdrowningmustfeel.
Ican’tlivethiswayanymore.
“I’mgladyou’rehere,”Istart,onlyforDadtoholduphishand.Kindlyshutup,thehandsays.Okaythen.
“Ibelieveyouoweusanapology,younglady.”SometimesIwonderifmyfatherusesthetermbecause,foramoment,he’sforgottenmyname.
“Really,you’vegonetoofarthistime,”mymotheragrees.“Haveyouanyideatheembarrassmentyou’vecaused?”
“Hereiswhat’sgoingtohappen.”Daddoesn’tlookatme,insteadscrollingthroughemailsonhisphone.Allofthisisapreparedspeechthatdoesn’tincludemyparticipation.“YouwillapologizetoPrestonandtohisparentsforthisepisode.Afterwhichthey’veagreedtotheresumptionofyourrelationship.Thenyou’recominghomefortheweekendwhileweevaluatehowtoproceed.I’mafraidwe’veallowedyoutoomuchlatitudelately.”
Istareathim.
WhenIrealizehe’sbeingserious,Icoughoutanincredulouslaugh.“Um,no.Ican’tdothat.”
“Excuseme.”Mymotheradjustsherscarf,asortofnervousticshegetswhenshe’sacutelyawareshecan’tsnapatmeinfrontofquitesomanywitnesses.“Yourfatherisn’tgivingyouachoice,Mackenzie.”
Well,atleastoneofthemknowsmyname.Itrytoimaginethempickingoutbabynames.Ifevertherewasamomentintimetheylookedforwardtoachild,itwasthen,right?
“Iwon’tgetbacktogetherwithPreston.”Mytoneinvitesnoargument.
So,ofcourse,Igetone.
“Whynot?”Momwailsinexasperation.“Don’tbeafool,sweetheart.Thatboywillmakealoyal,upstandinghusband.”
“Loyal?”Isnortloudenoughtodrawgazesfromafewneighboringtables.
Dadfrownsatme.“Keepyourvoicedown.You’reattractingattention.”
“TrustmewhenIsayPrestonisnotloyaltoanyonebuthimself.I’llspareyouthedetails.”Likehowhewasacheatingprickwhowasprobablymessingaroundsincethemomentwegottogether.Howinsomewayshesavedusboth,becauseIwasnosainteither.“Butsufficeittosaywedon’thaveaconnectionanymore.”Ihesitate.ThenIthink,fuckit.“Besides,I’mseeingsomeoneelse.”
“Who?”Momasksblankly,asifPrestonwerethelastmanonearth.
“Atownie,”Ireply,becauseIknowitwilldrivehernuts.
“Enough.”
Ijumpwhenmyfathersmackshisphonedownonthetable.Ha.Who’sattractingattentionnow?
Realizingwhathedid,Dadlowershisvoice.Hespeaksthroughclenchedteeth.“Thisdisobediencestopsnow.Iwillnotentertainyourprovocationsanyfurther.Youwillapologize.Youwilltaketheboyback.Andyouwillfallinline.Oryoucankissyourallowanceandcreditcardsgoodbye.”HisshouldersshakewithrestrainedrageasInowhavehiscompleteattention.“Sohelpme,Iwillcutyouoffandyoucanseeexactlyhowcoldanddarkthispathcanget.”
Idon’tdoubthimforasecond.I’vealwaysknownhewasruthlesswhereI’mconcerned.Nocoddling.Nospecialtreatment.Thatusedtoscareme.
“Tellyouwhat,”Isay,pullingmypurseoffthebackofmychair,“here’smycounteroffer:no.”
Hiseyes,thesamedarkshadeofgreenasmyown,gleamwithdisapproval.“Mackenzie,”hewarns.
Ireachintomybag.“Dowhatyoumust,butI’mtiredoflivinginfearofdisappointingyouboth.I’msickofneverlivinguptoyourideal.Ihavehadmyabsolutefillofkillingmyselftomakeyouhappyandconstantlyfallingshort.I’mnotevergoingtobethedaughteryouwant,andI’mdonetrying.”
IfindwhatI’mlookingforinmypurse.Forthefirsttimemylife,myparentsarespeechlessastheywatchmefilloutacheck.
Islideitacrossthetabletomyfather.“Here.Thisoughttocoverwhatyouspentforthefirstsemester.I’vedecidedmyinterestslieelsewhere.”
Withnothinglefttosay—andcertainthisburstofmadnessandcouragewillnotlast—IholdmybreathasIgetupfromthetableandwalkout,notsparingaglancebehindme.
Justlikethat,I’macollegedropout.CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
MACKENZIE
I’mwaitingonCooper’sdoorstepwhenhegetshomefromworkthatevening.
Afterleavingmyparents,Ihadallthispent-upenergyandnowheretoreleaseit,soIwalkedtheboardwalkforawhile,thenstrolleddownthebeachuntilIwoundupathisplace.Awhilelater,I’mstillsittingontheporchwhenCooper’struckparksintheirdrivewayandbothbrothersgetout.
“What’sup,princess?”Saunteringuptothefrontdoor,Evangivesmeawinkasheletshimselfinside.We’reoldpalsnow,meandtheBadTwin.
“Howlonghaveyoubeenouthere?”Cooperlookssurprisedtoseemeashecomesupthesteps.
Imomentarilyforgetwhatheasks,becauseI’mtoobusygawking.HeputsmeonmyasseverytimeIseehim.Hisdarkeyesandwindswepthair.ThesuggestionofhisbodyunderhisT-shirtandfadedjeansflirtswithmymemory.There’ssomethingwildlymasculineabouthim.He’sspentalldayonthejobsite,dustyremnantsstillcoatinghisskin,hisclothes.Thesmellofsawdust.Itgetsmepositivelyreckless.Reducesmyentirebeingtowantwantwant
“Mac?”heprompts.Aknowingsmilecurveshislips.
“Oh.Sorry.Anhour,maybe?”
“Somethingwrong?”
“Notatall.”Itakethehandheextendsandlethimhelpmetomyfeet.Wegoinside.Oncewekickoffourshoes,Ileadhimstraighttohisbedroom.
“Ihavenews,”Iannounce.
“Yeah?”
Iclosehisdoorandlockit.Becausemorethanoncelately,Evanhasgottenhiskicksbyjigglingthehandlewhenheknowswe’regettinguptosomething,justtoscaretheshitoutofme.Guyneedsahobby.
“Idroppedoutofschool.”Icanbarelycontainmyexcitement.Andmaybethere’ssomefeartoo.Itallfeelsthesame,bubblinginside.
“Holyshit,that’sbig.How’dthathappen?”
“Myparentsambushedmeoncampusandkindofforcedmyhand.”
Cooperpeelsoutofhisshirtandtossesitinhishamper.Whenhestartstounbucklehisbelt,Icrosstheroomandpullhishandsaway,takingover.AsIundohiszipper,Ifeelhimwatchingthetopofmyheadandhisabdomenclenches.
“How’dthatgo?”Hesoundsabitdistractednow.
Leavinghisjeanson,Ireachinsidehisboxersandbegintostrokehim.He’salreadyhalfhardwhenIdo.Quickly,he’sfullyerectandhisbreathingisshallow.
“Itoldthemtogetbent.”Iswipemythumboverthedropofmoistureathistip.Hehissesinasharpbreath.“Notinsomanywords.”
“Feelingprettyfuckingfullofyourself,huh?”Hishandscombthroughmyhairandtightenatmyscalp.
Ileancloserandkisshimunderthecornerofhisjaw.“Justabit.”
ThenIwalkusbackwarduntilhislegshitthebedandhesitsontheedge.
Hungerdarkenshisgaze.“Whatbroughtthison?”
“Mostlyme.”FromhisnightstandIgrabacondomandtossittohim.ThenIpullmydressovermyhead.“Alittleyou.”
Mybraandunderweardroptothefloor.
“Independencelooksgoodonyou,”hesaysroughly,runninghisfistupanddownhisshaftashewatchesmyeverymove.
Slowly,Iclimbontohislap.Hecursesinmyear,grabbingmyasswithbothhands.Withmypalmsflatagainsthischest,Iridehim.Gentlyatfirst,asaflurryofshiversracethroughme.It’salwaysashocktomysystem,beingwithCooper.Everythingabouthimfeelsright,andyetI’mstillnotusedtothis.Idon’tthinkIwanttobe.I’mstillfindingsurprises.Stillshakeneverytimehislipstravelalongmyskin.
Irockbackandforth.Shamelessly.Ican’tgethimdeepenough,closeenough.MyheadfallstohisshoulderandIbitedowntokeepfrommakingasoundasIgrindonhim.
“Ohhell,I’mnotgonnalast,”hemumbles.
“Good,”Ibreathe.
Hegroansandgivesanupwardthrust,hisarmstighteningaroundme.
IsmileasIwatchthehazeofblissfillhisexpression,asIlistentothehuskynoiseshemakeswhenhecomes.Afterhetossesthecondom,helaysmeonthebedandkisseshiswayfrommybreaststomystomach,andthenlower,untilhesettlesbetweenmylegsandopensmetohistongue.CooperlicksmeuntilI’mtuggingathishairandmoaningwithpleasure.He’stoogoodwithhismouth.It’saddictive.
Later,afterashowerandanotherroundoforgasms,wesitonthefrontporchwithDaisywhileafrozenpizzabakesintheoven.
“Idon’tknowifIwould’vegonethroughwithitifIhadn’tmetyou,”ItellCooper,asourpuppysleepsinhislap.“Droppingout,Imean.”
“Yeah,youwouldhave.Eventually.I’mtheexcusethatgaveyouanudge.”
“Maybe,”Iadmit.“Butyouinspiredme.”
Herollshiseyes.
“Shutup.Imeanit.”SomethingI’velearnedaboutCooper:He’sterribleattakingcompliments.It’soneofhismoreendearingqualities.“You’renotafraidofanythingoranyone.Youmakeyourownrules.Everyoneelsebedamned.”
“Itcomeseasywhenyoudon’thaveshittostartwith.”
“Youbelievedinme,”Isay.“You’retheonlyonewhoeverhas.Thatmeansalot.Iwon’tforgetthat.”
ButevenasIbaskinmynewfoundindependence,I’mnotna?veenoughtobelievemyparentswilltakemydecisionlyingdown.They’llfigureoutawaytomakeithurt.Noonecrossesmyfatherandgetsawaywithit.Sotherewilldefinitelybefalloutfromthissuddenoutburstofdisobedience.It’sonlyaquestionofhowbad
Itdoesn’ttakelongfortheconsequencesofmyactionstomakethemselvesknown.Exactlysixdaysafterdroppingout,Ireceiveanemailfromthedeanofstudents.It’sshortandconcise.ApoliteGetyourassinhere
I’mafewminuteslateforthemeeting,andI’musheredintoacherrywood–trimmedofficebythesecretary.Thedeanisotherwiseengagedandwillbewithmeinamoment.WouldIcareforsomewater?
Iguessmyparentsmadeafewcallshopinganeutralthirdpartycanlobbymeontheirbehalftonotdropoutofschool.ThoughasfarasI’mconcerned,allthat’sleftaretheformalitiesofpaperwork.Admittedly,I’vemadelittleprogressonfinalizingmywithdrawalfromGarnet.Betweenthehotelandmywebsitesoccupyingmostofmyattention,I’veenjoyedwhatcountsformeasslackingoff.
“Sosorryaboutthat.”DeanFreitag,apetitewomanwhoseleatherskinclingsinbrittleripplestoherbones,enterstheroom.Shecomesaroundherdesk,breathless,fluffingthehumidityoutofhershoulder-lengthhelmetofblondehair.Sheadjuststhejacketofhercranberrysuitensembleandpullsthesilkscarffromherneck.“Hotterthanthedevil’sbathtuboutthere.”
Thedeanflicksonasmalldeskfanandaimsitatherself,baskingforamomentinthebreezebeforeturningherattentionbacktome.
“Now,Ms.Cabot.”Herdemeanorshifts.“Iunderstandyou’venotattendedasingleclassinthelastweek.”
“No,ma’am.I’vecometothedecisiontowithdrawfromthesemester.”
“Oh?IfIrecall,you’vealreadydelayedyourfreshmanyearbytwelvemonths.”Onepencil-thineyebrowpropsup.“What’ssopressingthatyoureducationmustwait?”
Somethingaboutherfriendlyignoranceunnervesme.AsifI’mwalkingintoatrap.
“Actually,I’mwithdrawingfromGarnetentirely.Iwon’tbebacknextsemester.”
Sheregardsme,impassive,forseveralseconds.SolongthatI’malmostmovedtoelaboratetogethergoingagain.Whenshefinallyspeaks,Ican’thelpbutinterpretsomevengeanceinhervoice.
“AndIsupposeyou’vegiventhisafairbitofthought?”
“Ihave.Yes,ma’am.”
Abriefsuityourselfsmilecrossesherlipsbeforesherattleshercomputermousetowakethescreen.Shetrainsherattentiononitasshespeaks.
“Well,thenwecancertainlyhelpyouwiththat.I’llhavemysecretarypullthenecessaryforms.”Sheglancesatmewithalookthatfallsshortofreassurance.“Don’tworry,it’sjustasignatureortwo.”Clickinghermousearound.“Ofcourseyou’llneedtovacateyourdormatTallyHallwithintwenty-fourhoursofsubmittingnoticetotheOfficeofStudentHousing.”ShehitsmewiththeMissMelonPageantsmile.“Which—hereweare!—I’vejustsubmitteditforyou.”
Andthereitis.Totalsetup.
AbigscrewyoufromDaddy.
She’sright,ofcourse.IhavenobusinesssquattinginadormroomifI’mnotastudenthere.Aminordetailthatseemedtoslipmymind.Nodoubtmyparentsspentthelastweekwaitingformetocomecrawlingbackhomeforaplacetostay.
“Willtherebeanythingelse?”ThedeangrinsatmeasifI’vedonethistoher.Apersonalslight.
Idon’twasteasecondagonizingoverit,however.Forbetterorworse,we’rebrokenup.
“No,ma’am.”Iofferasaccharinesmileandrisetomyfeet.“I’lljustbeonmyway.”
Anhourlater,I’minmydorm,boxingupmybelongings.Alittleoverthreemonths.That’showlongmycollegecareerlasted,andyet…I’mnotsadtoseeitend.
I’mpullingclothesoffhangerswhenIhearthebuzzofanincomingtext.Igrabthephonefrommydesk.It’samessagefromKate,whoIhaven’tseeninweeks.Iaskedhertohangoutacoupletimes—Ididn’twanttobeoneofthosegirlswhoditchesherfriendsthemomentshestartsdatinganewguy—butshe’sbeenbusyrehearsingwithsomebandshejoinedlastmonth.Sheplaysthebassguitar,apparently.
Kate:Heygirl!Sooo,headsup—Ispoketomysisteronthephoneearlierandyournamecameup.Melsaidyourexisaskingaround,tryingtofindoutwhoyou’redating.Iguesssomeonesawyouintownwithsomelocal?
Icurseoutloud.DamnEvan.Iknewthatnightwouldcomebacktohauntus.
Me:Ugh.Awesome.
Kate:Yeah.Preston’sonamissionnow.You’vebeenwarned.
Me:Thanksforlettingmeknow.
Kate:Np.Btw—ourfirstgigisnextFriday,openmicthingatthe
RipTideintown.Come!
Me:Textmethedeets!
BeforeIcangetbacktopacking,thephonevibratesagaininmyhand.Speakofthedevil.Thistimeit’sPreston,andhe’snothappy.
Preston:YoudroppedoutofGarnet?WTFiswrongwithyou,Mackenzie.Whyareyouthrowingyourlifeaway?
Myjawtightens.I’msosickofhishighandmightybullshit.Thejudgmental,patronizingwayhetreatsme,actingasifI’mincapableoflivingmyownlife.
Me:Outofcuriosity,areyouspyingonmepersonallyorareyoupayingotherpeopletokeeptabsonme?
Preston:Yourfathercalledme.Hethinksyou’vegoneofftherails.
Me:Idon’tgiveashitwhathethinks.
Me:Ialsodon’tgiveashitwhatyouthink.
Me:Stoptextingme.
WhenIseehimtyping,IswitchonDoNotDisturbmode.Ican’tbringmyselftoblockhisnumberyet.Aconcessiontoourhistory,Iguess.ButIhaveafeelingI’llneedto,soonerorlater.
WhenBonniereturnstothedormfollowingherafternoonclass,I’mcompletelydonepacking.Thelittleblondestopsshortinourcommonareaandstaresatthehalfdozenboxeslinedupagainstthewall.
“Yougoin’ontherun?”Shetossesdownherbackpackandgrabsawaterfromtheminifridge,thenstandstherewiththedooropen,coolingherlegs.
“Gotkickedout,”Ianswerwithashrug.“Itwasboundtohappen.”
“Well,shit.”Shepushesthefridgeclosedwithherfoot.“YouthinkI’llgettokeeptheplacetomyselfnow?”
Ismileather.Bonnieisn’tanespeciallysentimentalgirl,butIknowshecares.“I’llmissyoutoo.”
“Whatareyougoingtodowithallyourstuff?”Shenodstowardtheboxes.Thenshegivesacattysmile.“Isupposewecanaskourcheatin’extoborrowhisPorsche?”
Isnicker.“I’msurethatwouldgooverwell.”Walkingtowardmyformerbedroom,Ifishmyphonefrommypocket.“It’sfine,Iknowsomeonewithatruck.Letmeseeifhecancomegetme.”
“Oooh,isitthetowniewiththemagicdick?”
“Maybe.”Laughing,Iduckintothebedroomtomakemycall.
“Heybabe.What’sup?”Cooper’sroughvoiceticklesmyearandsendsashiverupmyspine.Heevensoundssexy.
“Hey.So.Ihaveabigask.”
“Shoot.”Thebangingofhammersandwhirofsawsfadeinthebackground,likehe’ssteppingawayfromhisjobsite.
“Ihavetovacatemydorm.Wastossedout,basically.IguessI’mnotallowedtoliveinstudenthousingwhenI’mnotastudent.”
“Yourealizethat’sacompletelyreasonabledecisionontheschool’spart,right?”
“Theygavemetwenty-fourhours’notice,”Iargue.“Howreasonableisthat?”
Hechuckles.“Needhelppacking?”
“Nope,butI’mhopingyoucanpickmeupafteryou’redoneworkingsoIcanloadsomeboxesinyourtruck?I’llputmostofitinastorageunitintownuntilIfindanapartment.”Ihesitate.“And,um,IcoulduseaplacetocrashuntilIfindsomethingmorepermanent.Ifit’snottoomuchtoask.”
Imean,itisalottoask.We’vebarelystarteddating.Movingin,evenonatemporarybasis,isnosmallfavor.Yes,EvanandIareongoodtermsnow,whicheasesthepossibletension,buttheydidn’texactlysignupforathirdroommate.
“No,youknowwhat,”Iinterjectwhenhestartstoanswer,“I’llgetahotel.That’dmakewaymoresense.”
Becauseseriously,whatwasIthinking?Thiswasastupididea.HowdidIthinkmyfirstoptionshouldbetoforcemywayintoCooper’shouse,asifI’veknownhimforlongerthanafewmonths?That’sinsane.
“There’sthatmotelatthenorthsideofthebeach.Ibettheyrentroomsweekly—”
“Mac?”
“Yeah?”
“Shutup.”
Ibitebackalaugh.“Rude.”
“You’renotstayingatashitholemotelonthenorthside.You’restayingwithme.Theend.”
“You’resure?Ididn’treallythinkthisthroughbeforeIcalled,Ijust—”
“I’mdoneatsix.I’llcomegrabyoufromcampusafterward.”
Alumpofemotionrisesinmythroat.“Thanks.I,uh…damnit,Cooper,Ireallyappreciateit.”
“Igotyou,princess.”Thenhehangsupwithaharriedgoodbye,leavingmetosmileatthephone.NotthatIexpectedCoopertobeadickaboutit,buthe’stakingthewholethingremarkablywell.
“I’msorry,domyearsdeceiveme?”ahighlyexcitedvoicebubblesfrommyopendoorway.“OrdidIjusthearyourefertoourmysteriouscallerasCooper?”
Imeetherwideeyes.Sheepish.
“AsinCooperHartley?”
Inod.
Bonniegaspsloudenoughstartleme,eventhoughshe’srightinfrontofme.“OhsweetlittlebabyJesus!That’swhoyoubeenhidin’fromme?”Shebarrelsintotheroom,blondecurlsflyingaroundhershoulders.“Youarenotleavin’thisdormitorytillyouprovidemewitheverylastdetail.Ineedeverything.”CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
COOPER
Thischickisoutofhermind.
“Whatisthepeanutbutterdoingintherefrigerator?”Ishoutfromthekitchen.
IsweartoGod,havingthreepeopleinthishousehasturnedtheplaceintoacircus.IusedtoknowwhereEvanwasbythecreaksandgroansthehousemadearoundhim.Nowthere’stwoofthemandit’slikethisoldplaceishaunted—constantnoisescomingfromeverydirectionatonce.Hell,atthispoint,youcouldprobablyconvincemethatPatriciaexists.
“Hey!”Ishoutagainintothevoid.“Thehelldidyougo?”
“Righthere,dipshit.”Evanappearsbesideme,shoulderingmeoutofthewayashegrabsthetwosix-packsofbeersfromthefridgeandthrowstheminthecooler.
“Notyou.Theotherone.”
Heshrugsinresponseandleavesthekitchenwiththecooler.
“What’sup?”Macpopsinfromfuckknowswhereinatinybikini.Hertitsarepouringoutofthetop,andthelittlestripoffabricbetweenherlegsisbeggingmetoripitoffwithmyteeth.Damn.
“Didyoudothis?”IholdupthejarofsomepeanutbutterbrandI’veneverheardof.ItwassittinginthedoorofthefridgethewholetimeIwasemptyingeverycabinetinthekitchenlookingforajarofJif.
Shescrunchesherfaceatme.“Dowhat?”
“Whoputspeanutbutterinthefridge?”
“Uh…”Shecomesoverandtakesthejarfromme,turnsitaroundinherhand.“Itsayssorightonthelabel.”
“Butthenitgetsallhard.It’sgross.”Iopenthejartoseeaninch-thicklayerofoilontopofthesolidbutter.“What’sallthisshit?”
“It’sorganic,”shetellsmelikeI’mstupidforasking.“Itseparates.Youhavetostiritupalittle.”
“Whyonearthwouldanyonewanttostirtheirpeanutbutter?Youactuallyeatthis?”
“Yes.It’sdelicious.Andyouknowwhat?Youcoulddowithlayingofftheaddedsugar.Youseemalittlewoundup.”
AmIhavingastroke?IfeellikeI’mlosingmymind.“Whatdoesthathavetodowithanything?”
Macrollshereyesandkissesmycheek.“There’sregularpeanutbutterinthepantry.”ThenshewalksoutontothedeckafterEvan,shakingherassatme.
“Whatpantry?”Iyellafterher.
Whensheignoresme,Iturntoexaminemysurroundingsuntilmygazefinallylandsonthebroomcloset.Asinkingfeelingsettlesinmygut.
Iopentheclosetdoortodiscovershe’smovedoutthetools,emergencyhurricanesupplies,andothershitI’dneatlyorganizedinthere.It’sbeenreplacedbyalltherealfoodthathadmysteriouslygonemissingaftershemovedinandstartedfillingourcabinetswithnon-GMOcertifiedfair-tradeflaxseedcrackersandwhateverthefuck.
“Let’sgo.”Evanpokeshisheadinside.
“Youseethis?”Iaskhim,pointingatthe“pantry.”
“Yeah,it’sbetter,right?”Thenheslipsoutsideagain,callingoverhisshoulder,“Meetyououtfront.”
Traitor.
It’sonlybeenaweeksinceMacmovedin,andalreadyshe’sturnedthedynamicofthehouseupsidedown.Evan’sinaweirdlygoodmoodlately,whichIdon’ttrustintheslightest.Allthecounterspaceinmybathroomhasbeenannexed.Thefood’sweird.Thetoiletpaper’sdifferent.AndeverytimeIturnaround,Mac’smovingstuffaroundthehouse.
Butthensomethinglikethishappens.IlockthefrontdoorandstepontotheporchtofindMacandEvanlaughingtheirassesoffaboutwhoknowswhatastheywaitforme.Theyseemhappy.Carryingonasifthey’veknowneachotherforever.
Istilldon’tknowhoworwhenthingschanged.Oneday,Evanstoppedleavingtheroomwhenshewalkedinandmutteringunderhisbreath.She’dbeeninductedintothebrotherhood.Oneofus.Practicallyfamily.Ascarythought,ifonlybecauseIhadn’tdaredhopeforasmuch.Ifiguredtosomeextentwe’dbefightingthebloodfeud,towniesversusclones,tillwewereallsickofeachother.I’mhappytobewrong.Thoughsomepartofmedoesn’ttrustit,becausenothingcomesthiseasyforlong.
EvanandIcarrythecoolertothetruck,settingitinthebedofthepickup.Mybrotherhopsuptoo,usinghisbackpackforapillowashestretchesoutlikealazyasshole.
“Wakemewhenwegetthere,”hesayssmugly,andIvowtohitasmanypotholesaspossibleonthedrivetotheboardwalk,wherewe’remeetingsomefriends.Earlier,Wyattcalledeveryonetoorganizeavolleyballtournament.Nearlyallofusweredown,wantingtomakethemostofthegoodweatherwhileitlasts.
“Hey,”MacsaysasIslideintothedriver’sseat.“Igrabbedabookoffyourshelfincaseyouwantedsomethingtoreadbetweengames.”
She’srummagingthroughtheoversizedbeachbagatherfeet.Tomydisappointment,she’sslippedatanktopandapairofshortson,coveringupthatinsanelyhotbikini.
“Thanks.Whichone?”
Sheholdsupthepaperback—RagstoRiches:10BillionairesThatCamefromNothingandMadeEverything.Thetitleiscornyashell,butthecontentispuregold.
“Nice.”Inod.“That’sagoodone.”
“Yourbookshelfisfascinating,”shesaysmatter-of-factly.“Idon’tthinkI’veevermetanyonewhoreadssomanybiographies.”
Ishrug.“Ilikethem.”
Isteerthetruckdownthedusty,sand-covereddrivetothestopsignattheendoftheroad.IsignalleftandwhenItwistmybodytoensurethewayisclear,IsuddenlyfeelMac’sfingertipsgrazethenapeofmyneck.
Heatinstantlytravelstothesouthernregionofmybody.Acommonreactiontohertouch.
“Ijustnoticedthis,”shesaysinsurprise.Herfingerstracemymostrecenttattoo.“Didyoualwayshavethisanchor?”
“Nah.Gotitdoneacouplemonthsago.”
Whensheremovesherhand,Ifeelasenseofloss.Ifitwereuptome,thisgirl’shandswouldbeonmetwenty-fourseven.
“Ilikeit.It’ssimple,clean.”Shesmilesatme.“You’rereallyintoallthenauticalstuff,huh?”
Igrin.“Imean,Idoliveonthebeach.Although,tobehonest,it’sjustacoincidencethatalotofmyinkinvolveswater.AndtheanchorwasaspurofthemomenttatwhenIwasinabadmood.”Igivehertheside-eye.“Itwasafteryoutoldmeyouwerepickingyourexoverme.”
“DumbestmistakeIevermade.”
“Damnright.”Iwinkather.
“Luckily,Irectifiedit.”Shesmirksandplantsherpalmovermythigh.“Sotheanchorrepresentswhat?Youbeingpissedatme?”
“Feelingweigheddown.I’djustbeenrejectedbythecoolest,smartest,funniestgirlI’veeverknown.Andshedidn’twantme.”Ishrug.“IfeltlikeI’vebeendraggeddownmyentirelife.Bythistown.Thememoryofmyparents.Dadwasaloser.Momisaloser.”Anothershrug,thisoneaccompaniedbyadrysmile.“Ihaveabadhabitofgettingverystraightforward,un-metaphoricaltattoos.Nosubtextatallonthisbody.”
Thatgetsmealaugh.“Ihappentolikethisbodyverymuch.”Shesqueezesmythigh,notatallsubtly.“Andyou’renotaloser.”
“Certainlytryingnottobe.”Igesturetothebookinherlap.“Ireadstufflikethat—biographies,memoirsbythesemenandwomenwhocrawledoutofpovertyorbadcircumstancesandmadesomethingofthemselves—becausetheyinspireme.Oneofthedudesinthatbook?Motherwaswidowed,leftwithfivekidsshecouldn’ttakecareof,soshesendshimtoanorphanage.He’spoor,alone,goestoworkatafactorywhenhe’sstillyoung,makingautopartmolds,eye-glassframes.Whenhe’stwenty-three,heopensuphisownmoldingshop.”ItipmyheadtowardMac.“AndthatshopendsupcreatingtheRay-Banbrand.”
Mackenzie’shandtravelstomyknee,givingitasqueeze,beforeseekingoutmyhandonthegearshift.Shelacesourfingers.
“Youinspireme,”shesayssimply.“AndIhavenodoubt,bytheway,thatyournamewillendupinabooklikethissomeday.”
“Maybe.”
Atthebeach,Wyattandtherestofthecrewhavealreadyclaimedoneofthevolleyballnets.Nearby,thegirlsaresetuponthesandwithanumbrella.Stephreadsabook,Heiditansonherstomach,andAlanalookscharacteristicallyboredwithallofitwhileshesipsaconcealedcocktailfromawaterbottle.
EvanandIgreettheguyswithfistbumps.We’vebarelyfinishedsayingourhellosbeforeWyattstartsshoutingateveryonetobreakupintoteams.
“Gettingdumpedturnedhimintoarealdictator,eh?”Tatemuttersaswewatchourbuddyorderusaroundlikeadrillsergeant.
Ichuckle.“Shestillhasn’ttakenhimback?”
“Nope.Ithinkitmightactuallybeoverthistime—”Tatestops,narrowinghiseyes.
IlookovertoseeWyatttuggingAlanaoutofherbeachchair.Shesighsandtakeshishand.Iguessshe’sonhisteam.Althoughwhat’supwiththewayhe’swhisperinginherear?
“What’sthatabout?”IaskTate.
“Noclue.”Hisjawistight.
Okay,then.
Thevolleyballtournamentgetsunderway.Andsincewe’reallacompetitivebunchhereintheBay,itturnsintensefast.Mac’sonmyteam,andI’mpleasantlysurprisedtodiscovershehasakillerserve.Thankstoher,wetakeanearlyleadthathasuswinningthefirstgame.Wyatt’screwwinsthesecond.Forthetiebreaker,MactagsStephinandwalksdowntothewater.
“I’llsubbackin,”shecallstome.“Justcoolingoffforabit.”
InodandreturntothetaskofcrushingWyattandEvan’steamintothesand.Itisn’tuntilanhourpassesthatIrealizeSteph’sstillplayinginMackenzie’splace.
“Dude!”TategrouseswhenImissaspike.
ButmyfocusisnowonfindingMac.MygazeroamsupanddownthebeachuntilfinallyIspother.She’satthewater’sedgetalkingtosomeone.
Despitethesunbeatingdownonmyheadandbarechest,myentirebodyrunscoldwhenIrecognizewhoshe’swith.
Kincaid.CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
COOPER
“Coop,it’syourserve,”Stephsaysexpectantly.
“I’mout,”Itellthegroup,throwingupmyhands.Iseekoutmybrother’seyesontheothersideofthenet.
“Evan”isallIhavetosayforhimtojogtomyside.WhenInodinMac’sdirection,hisexpressiondarkens.
“Fuck,”hecurses.
“Iknow.”
Tryingtolooklikewe’renotintoomuchofahurry,wemakeourwayovertheretoprotestsfromourteamsforwalkingoffthegame.Screwthegame.Myassisabouttobeindeepshitifthisgoessideways.
“Howareweplayingthis?”Evanmurmurs.
“Notsure.Followmylead.”Asweapproachthewater’sedge,itoccurstomethatitmight’vebeenbetterifI’dpretendednottonoticeKincaidandkeptmydistance,camouflagedmyselfinthegroupofvolleyballplayers.Butthere’snowayinhellI’mleavingMachangingwiththatassholearound.
“Thereaproblemhere?”PuttingmyarmaroundMac’sshoulder,IsquareuptoKincaid,whoisconspicuouslyalone
Amomentofconfusioncrosseshisfaceasherecognizesme.Itwasprobablytoomuchtohopehehadforgottenallaboutme.
Hiseyesnarrowashedoesthemathinhishead.
“Hangon,thisistheguy?”hedemands,hisheadswivelingbacktoMackenzie.
Macshootsmeafrustratedglare.ShenoticesEvanlingeringnearbyandletsoutasigh.“Yes,thisistheguy.Andnowwe’releaving.Enjoytherestofyourafternoon,Pres.”
“Hangonaminute.”Hesoundsincensedaswestarttowalkaway.“Thisisgoddamnconvenient.Iknowthisloser.”
IfeelMacstiffenslightly.Shestops,turningtowardherex.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
Kincaidmeetsmyeyeswithapompoussmirk.“Shehasnoidea,doesshe?”
Ihaveasplitsecondtodecide.Deepdown,though,Iknowthere’snochoice,atleastnotwithKincaidhereprovidinganaudience.
SoIsay,“AmIsupposedtoknowyou?”
Nooneplaysdumbbetterthanakidwhopulledthetwinswapondamnneareveryalgebratestinschool.
“Yeah,nicetry,bro.”HereturnshisattentiontoMac.“Letmeguess,thisguyshoweduprightafteryougottotown?Somefriendlytownieyouhappenedtorunintoonanightoutwiththegirls.Stopmeifthissoundsfamiliar.”
Afrowntouchesherlips.“Cooper,whatishetalkingabout?”
Thesecondshefixesherconcernedgreeneyesatme,mymouthturnstosand.Acidrisesinmystomach.
“Noidea,”Ilie.
IscaremyselfwithhoweasilyIcanlietoher.Howconvincinglythewordsslideoutofmymouth.Nottheslightestflinch.
“Mackenzie,babe,listentome.”Kincaidreachesouttotouchher,andittakesahellofanefforttonotbreakhishandasIstepbetweenthem.Mouthflattening,hedropshisarm.“Theweekendbeforeschoolstarted,thisguypickedafightwithmeinabarandIgothimfiredonthespot.Remember?IhadablackeyewhenIhelpedyoumoveintothedorm?”
“Youtoldmeyougotitplayingbasketball,”sheaccuseswithnosmallamountofvenominhervoice.
“Yeah,okay,Ilied.”Heconcedesthepointgrudgingly,hurryingtomakehiscaseasMac’scrossedarmsandlackofeyecontactsayhe’slosingherinterestquickly.“ButI’mnotlyingnow.”
“HowamIsupposedtotellthedifference?”NobodymatchesuptoMacinabattleofattrition.She’darguealldayaboutthenumberofcloudsintheskyjusttoberight.
“Isn’titobvious?”He’slosinghispatience,tossinghishandsintheair.“He’sonlyfuckingyoutogetbackatme.”
“Alright,that’senough.”IfIcan’tputhisfaceinthesandandendthishere,I’mnotstickingaroundtolethimblowupmylife.“Youneedtogetouttahere,man.Leaveheralone.”
“Mackenzie,comeon,”hepleads.“You’renotseriouslyfallingforhisBS,right?Iknowyou’reyoung,butyoucan’tbethisstupid.”
Thatdoesit.ThethickaccentsofcondescensiontriggerMac’slastnerve,andherexpressiongrowsstormy.
“ThedumbestthingIeverdidwasdatingyouforsolong,”sheretorts.“Fortunately,that’snotadecisionIhavetolivewith.”
Shetearsofftowardourgroup,brushingpastEvan.Asthetwoofusfallinlinebehindher,Ihaveavividflashbacktothemanytimeswegotmarchedtotheprincipal’sofficebyourteachers.IfeelratherthanseeEvanaskingmeifwe’regood,butIdon’thaveanansweruntilwereachourpatchofsandandMacspinsonme.
“Outwithit,”sheorders.
“Withwhat?”
EvenasIstonewallher,IwonderifthisisthemomentIshouldcomeclean.AdmitIhadlessthanhonorableintentionsatfirst,butthatthingschangedafterwemet.
She’dunderstand.Maybeevengetakickoutofit.We’dhaveagoodlaughandit’dbecomeafunnystorywetellatparties.
Orshe’dnevertalktomeagain,untilIcomehomeonedaytomyhouseonfireandasignstuckinthegroundwithWeshouldseeotherpeoplewrittenonitinash.
“Don’tmesswithme.”Macsticksafingerinmychest.“Whatwashetalkingabout?Youtwoknoweachother?”
Onceagain,wehaveanaudience,andonceagain,feelingourfriends’eyesonus,mycourageabandonsme.IfItellherthetruthinprivate,there’sachanceI’llloseher.IfItellherthetruthinfrontofadozenotherpeople,losingherisaguarantee.She’dbehumiliatedinfrontofeveryone.She’dneverforgiveme.
Thistime,theliesburnmytongue.“EverythingIknowabouthimIheardaroundtown,orfromyou.Couldn’thavepickedthatguyoutofalineup.”
Shebecomeseerilystill,barelybreathingasshestaresatme.
Panicchurnsinmygut,butontheoutsideImaintainaneutralexpression.Isticktomystory.Ilearnedalongtimeago,thosewhogetcaughtaretheoneswhobreak.Thekeytoasuccessfullieistobelieveit.Thendeny,deny,deny.
“Wasthereafight?”Maccocksherheadasifshe’strappedme.
“Mac,theycouldfillfootballstadiumswiththenumberofidiotswhogetdrunkandstartshit.Ifhewasoneofthem,Ihonestlywouldn’tremember.”
Visiblyfrustrated,sheturnstoEvan.“DidCooperreallygetfired?”
Forasplitsecond,Iworrytheirnewplatonicromancemightendme.
“HehadasummerjobatSteph’sbar.”Withashrug,Evanevenhasmeconvinced.Guesswe’restillonthesamesidewhenitcounts.“Itwastemporary.”
ShelookspastEvantowhereStephhasresettledinherchairandpickedupherbook.“Steph?”Macsays.“Isthattrue?”
Withoutlookingupfromherbook,Stephnodsbehindherthickblacksunglasses.“Itwasasummergig.”
Relieftricklesintome,thendissolveswhenInoticeHeidiedgingclosertothegroup.There’sindecisioninherexpression.
Fuck.
Iknowthatlook.Mischiefformischief’ssake.Heidi’sthegirlwho’snevermissedanopportunitytosetafirejusttohearthescreams.Addtothisthefactthatshe’sbeenmadatmemoreoftenthannotlately,andthatshe’snotafanofthisarrangementorMac.Butwhenourgazesbrieflymeet,Isilentlypleadwithhertogivemethisonething.
“Seriously,guys,I’mstarved,”shesayswithaboredwhine.“Canwegetthehelloutofherealready?”
Bytheskinofmyteeth,Imakeitoutalive.
Everydayafterthat,I’mholdingmybreath,waitingfortheothershoetodrop.LookingovermyshoulderforKincaidtosneakuponusagain.Macseemstoletthemattergo,andEvanandIhavebeenavoidingthesubjectbymiles.Butitwasaclosecall.Tooclose.Areminderhowfragileourrelationshipisandhoweasilyitcanallberippedfrommyhands.ThatrealizationhitsmeharderthanIthoughtpossible.She’sundermyskinandgettingdeeper.
Thenightofourrun-inwithKincaid,afterMachadgonetobed,Iendedupinmyworkshopsuckingonacigarettelikeamadman,hopingthenicotinewouldeasetheguilt,thestress,thefear.Usually,IonlysmokewhenI’mdrinking,andeventhatisn’tahardandfastrule.ButlyingtoMackenziehadwreckedme.
Evanfoundmethereatoneinthemorning,nearlyhalfapack’sworthofcigarettebuttsintheashtrayonmyworktable.
“Ineedtotellherthetruth,”I’dsaidmiserably.
He’dbalked.“Areyoufucked?What’sthatgonnaachieve,man?Theplanwasaborted.You’rewithherbecauseyoulikeher.”
“ButitstartedasawaytogetbackatKincaid.Meandher,thiswholerelationship,wasfoundedonbadintentions.”
Intheend,Evanconvincedmetostayquiet.ThoughwhoamIkidding,itdidn’ttakemuchconvincing.ThethoughtoflosingMackenzieripsmyinsidestoshreds.Ican’tloseher.AndEvanwaswrong—I’mnotwithherbecauseIlikeher.
I’minlovewithher.
AndsoIbanishtheguilttothefurthestrecessesofmymind.IworkhardtobethekindofmanMacneeds,deserves.Andthen,onemorning,we’relyinginbedandItakemyfirstdeepbreathinalmostamonth.She’sbarelyawakewhensherollsoveranddrapesherlegovermyhip.AnoverwhelmingsenseofcalmI’veneverknownbeforeenvelopesmeasshecuddlesintomychest.
“Morning,”shewhispers.“Whattimeisit?”
“Dunno.Ten,maybe?”
“Ten?”Shesitsabruptly.“Shoot.Yourunclewillbeheresoon.Wegottacleanthisplaceup.”
It’scuteshethinksLevigivesashit.
Sheleavesmealoneinbedtotakeashower,reappearingtenminuteslaterwithwethairandaflushedface.
“Ugh.Ican’tfindmybluedress,”shegrumblesfromthecloset,halfofwhichnowcontainsherclothes.
It’sbeenweekssinceshecametostaywithus,andyetnobody’sbroughtuptheprospectofhermovingout.I’mhappytoignorethesubject.Sure,havinganotherpersoninthehousehasbeenanadjustment.Andmaybewe’restilllearninghowtorespecteachother’squirks.Butshemakestheplacefeelwarmagain,likeahomeratherthanahouse.Shegivestheplacesomelifeafteryearsofbadmemoriesandemptyrooms.
Shejustfits.
“Sowearsomethingelse.Ordon’tandcomebacktobed.”
“It’smytakemeseriouslydress,”shecallsfromunderwhatsoundslikeamountainofhangers.
She’sgotnoreasontobenervousaboutmeetingwithLevi.Hemightlookintimidating,buthe’sthefriendliestguyyou’devermeet.Andyes,there’salottobesaidfornotmixingbusinesswithpleasure,butI’mchoosingtolookatthispossibleendeavorofthemworkingonthehoteltogetherfromanoptimisticperspective.
“Howaboutthisone?”Shecomesoutmodelingagreentopthatmatcheshereyesandapairofnavypantsthathugherassinawaythatisnothelpingmysemi.
“Youlookgreat.”
Heransweringsmile.Thewayherheadtiltsandeyesshine.Thoselooksthatareonlyforme.Theygetmerightinthefuckingchest.
I’veabsolutelylostmyheadoverthischick.
“What?”sheasks,lingeringatthefootofthebedandwrappingherhairinaknotatopherhead.
“Nothing.”AllIcandoissmileatherandhopeIdon’tscrewthisup.“IthinkI’mhappy,isall.”
Maccomesoverandplantsakissonmycheek.“Metoo.”
“Yeah?Evenwith,youknow,yourparentsbasicallydisowningyou?”
Shrugging,shewalksintothebathroom.Igetdressedandwatchherinthemirrorassheputsonhermakeup.
“Idon’tlovenotbeingonspeakingtermswiththem,”sheadmits.“Butthey’retheonesbeingstubborn.Choosingtolivemyownlifeishardlygroundsforexcommunication.”
I’vebeenworriedthatthelongerthisdisputewithherparentsragesoninsilentconflict,themoreshe’llcometoregretherdecisiontoleaveschool.Tobuythehotel.Tobewithme.Butsofar,there’sbeennosignofremorseonherpart.
“They’regoingtohavetogetoveriteventually,”shesays,turningtolookatme.“I’mnotstressingoverit,youknow?Rathernotgivethemthesatisfaction.”
Isearchherfaceforanytracesofdishonestyandfindnone.AsfarasIcantell,sheishappy.I’mtryingnottoletmyselfsinkintothatparanoidplace.Ihaveawayofspiralingwithanticipationofcatastrophe.Butthat’salwaysbeentherhythmofmylife.Thingsstartlookingtoogoodandahousefallsoutofthesky.
Thistime,I’mhopingshe’sbrokenthecurse.CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
MACKENZIE
Well,it’snotwinterinJacksonHoleorAspen—theweather’sbeenintheseventiesallweekendlikeCarolina’sstuckinautumn—butshoppingforaChristmastreewithCooperandEvanhasthusfarbeenanadventure.Alreadywe’vebeenchasedoutofthreetreelotsbecausetheseruffiansareincapableofbehavingthemselvesinpublic.Betweenchallengingeachothertoseewhocanbenchpressthebiggesttreeandholdingajoustingcontestinthemiddleofagrocerystoreparkinglot,we’rerunningoutofoptionstofindatreewithoutcrossingstatelines.
“Whataboutthisone?”Evansaysfromsomewhereintheartificialforest.
Tobefair,oneofthelotswegotkickedoutofwasforCooperandIgettingcaughtmakingoutbehindtheDouglasfirs.Provinghehasn’tlearnedhislesson,CoopersneaksuponmeandsmacksmyasswhileItrytonavigatemywaytowardhisbrother.
“Lookslikeyoureighth-gradegirlfriend,”CooperremarkswhenwefindEvanstandingnexttoaroundsprucethat’sbigonthetopandbottombutnoticeablynakedinthemiddle.
Evansmirks.“Jealous.”
“Thisone’snice.”Ipointtoanothertree.It’sfullandfluffy,withplentyofevenlyspacedbranchesforornaments.Nogapingholesorapparentbrownspots.
Coopersizesupthetree.“Thinkwecangetitthroughthedoor?”
“Canbringitinthroughtheback,”Evananswers.“Prettytall,though.Wemighthavetopokeaholeintheceiling.”
Igrin.“Worthit.”
I’vealwaysbeenabig-treegirl,thoughIwasneverallowedtopickoutmyown.Myparentshadpeopleforthat.EveryDecemberaboxtruckwouldshowupandunloadamall’sworthofdecorations.Ahuge,perfecttreeforthelivingroom,andsmalleronesfornearlyeveryotherlivingareainthehouse.Garlands,lights,candles,andthewholelot.Thenaninteriordecoratorandasmallarmyofhelpwouldtransformthehouse.Notoncedidmyfamilygettogethertodecoratethetrees;weneverlookedfortheperfectbranchforeachkeepsakeornamentlikeotherfamiliesseemedtodo.Allwehadwasabunchofexpensive,rentedjunktoaccomplishwhatevermotifmymotherwasinterestedinthatyear.Anothersetdressingfortheirlifeofpartiesandentertaininginfluentialpeopleorcampaigndonors.Acompletelysterileholidayseason.
Andyetdespitethat,Ifindmyselfabitemotionalattheideaofnotseeingmyparentsfortheholidays.We’restillbarelyspeaking,althoughmyfatherdidcourieroverastackofChristmascardsandordermetosignmynameunderhisandmymother’s.Apparentlythecardsarebeingdeliveredtohospitalsandcharitiesinmyfather’scongressionaldistrict,courtesyoftheperfectCabotfamilywhocaressomuchabouthumanity.
Thateveningafterdinner,thethreeofusscroungefordecorationsandlightsintheattic,buriedunderyearsofdust.
“Idon’tthinkwe’vedecoratedforChristmasin,what?”Cooperquestionshisbrotheraswecarrytheboxestothelivingroom.“Three,fouryears?”
“Seriously?”Isetmyboxonthehardwoodfloorandsitinfrontofthetree.
Evanopensaboxoftangledlights.“Somethinglikethat.Notsincehighschool,atleast.”
“That’ssosad.”EvenaplasticChristmasisbetterthannothing.
“We’veneverbeenbigonholidaysinthisfamily.”Coopershrugs.“SometimeswedostuffatLevi’shouse.UsuallyThanksgivings,becauseeveryotheryearforChristmastheygoseeTim’sfamilyinMaine.”
“Tim?”Iaskblankly.
“Levi’shusband,”Evansupplies.
“Partner,”Coopercorrects.“Idon’tthinkthey’reactuallymarried.”
“Levi’sgay?HowcomethisisthefirstI’mhearingofit?”
Thetwinsgiveidenticalshrugs,andforasecondIunderstandwhytheirteachershadatoughtimetellingthemapart.“It’snotreallysomethinghetalksabout,”Coopersays.“They’vebeentogetherfor,like,twentyyearsorsomething,buttheydon’tflaunttheirrelationship.They’rebothreallyprivatepeople.”
“Mostfolksintownknow,”Evanadds.“Orsuspect.Everyoneelsejustassumesthey’reroommates.”
“Weshould’vehadadinnerhereandinvitedthem.”Ifeelglumatthelostopportunity.IfI’mgoingtobelivinginAvalonBayandstayingwiththetwins,itmightbenicetoformdeeperconnections.
It’sstrange.Althoughwegrewupintwooppositeworlds,CooperandIaren’tthatdifferent.Inmanyways,we’vehadparallelexperiences.ThemoreIcometounderstandhim,themoreIrealizethatoursharedlanguageisdeeplyinfluencedbythewayswe’vefeltneglected.
“Dude,IthinksomeoftheseornamentsarefromGrandmaandGrandpop.”Evandragsaboxclosertothetree.Theguysdigintoit,pullingoutlittle,handmadeornamentswithphotosinside.Datesfrom’53,’61.Souvenirsfromtripsalloverthecountry.Evanholdsupalittlecradlethatmusthavebelongedtoamangersetatonepoint.“Whattheever-lovingfuckisthis?”
HeshowsusaswaddledbabyJesusthatmorecloselyresemblesalittlebakedpotatointinfoilwithtwoblackdotsforeyesandapinklineforamouth.
Iblanch.“That’sdisturbing.”
“Didn’tevenknowthesewerehere.”CooperadmiresapictureIcanonlyguessishisdadasaboy.Thenhetucksitbackinthebottomofthebox.
Onceagain,alumpofemotionclogsmythroat.“IwishIhadboxesliketheseathome,fullofoldpicturesandknickknacks,withinterestingstoriesbehindthemthatmyparentscouldtellmeabout.”
Coopergetsuptoheaveoneofthelargerboxesbacktothehallway.“Idon’tknow…Havingabunchofservantstodotheheavyliftingcan’thavebeenallthatbad,”hecallsoverhisshoulder.
“Nottomentionwakinguptoatonofpresents,”Evanpipesup.
“Sure,”Isay,pickingouttheornamentsthatarestillingoodshapeandappeartheleastemotionallydetrimental.“Itsoundsgreat.ItwaslikewakingupinSanta’sworkshop.Untilyougetoldenoughtorealizeallthecardsonyourpresentsaren’twritteninyourparents’handwriting.Andinsteadofelves,they’reactuallypeopleyourparentspaytokeepasmuchdistanceaspossiblebetweenthemandanythingapproachingsentimentality.”
“Bettheyweresickpresents,though,”Evansayswithawink.We’vemovedwellpastthehowmanyponiesdidyougetforyourbirthdayjokes,buthecan’talwaysresistgettinginajab.
Ishrugsadly.“I’dgivethemallbackifitmeantmyparentswouldwanttospendtimetogether,evenjustonce.Toactlikewewereafamilyratherthanabusinessventure.Mydadwasalwaysworking,andMomwasmoreworriedabouthercharityfunctions—which,yeah,Iknow,shewasn’tboilingpuppiesorsomething.Thereareworsethingsthanraisingmoneyforachildren’shospital.ButIwasachildtoo.Couldn’tIhavegottensomeofthatholidayspirit?”
“Aww,comehere,youlittleshit.”Evanthrowshisarmaroundmyneckandkissesthetopofmyhead.“I’mmessingwithyou.Parentsfuckingblow.Evenrichones.We’reallscrewedup,onewayoranother.”
“AllImeanis,doingthis,thethreeofus,meansalottome,”Itellthem,surprisedatmyselfwhenmyeyesstartstinging.IfIcriedinfrontoftheseguys,I’dneverheartheendofit.“It’smyfirstrealChristmas.”
Cooperpullsmeonhislapandwrapshisarmsaroundme.“We’regladyou’rehere.”
Evandisappearsforsecond,thenreturnswithasmallbox.“Okay.SoIwasgoingtosneakthisinyourstockinglater,butIthinkyoushouldhaveitnow.”
Istareatthebox.He’sdoneanabsolutelyawfuljobofwrappingit,thecornersallunevenandhelddownwithwaymoretapethananythingthesizeofmypalmshouldrequire.
“Don’tworry,”hesays,“it’snotstolen.”
IcrackasmileasItearintothepresentwithallthegraceofapetulantpreschooler.Inside,Ifindaplasticfigureofagirlinapinkdress.Herhairiscoloredblackwithapermanentmarkerandatiny,yellowcrowncutfrompaperisgluedtoherhead.
“IswearIlookedinsixdifferentstoresforaprincessornament.Youhavenoideahowfuckingharditistofindone.”Hegrins.“SoImademyown.”
Myeyeswater.Anotherlumplodgesinmythroat.
“Iwantedtogetyousomething.Tocelebrate.”
Myhandsshake.
“Imean,it’ssupposedtobefunny.IpromiseIwasn’ttryingtobeadickoranything.”
Doublingover,Istartlaughinghysterically.Sohardmyribshurt.Coopercan’tholdme,andItumbletothefloor.
“Isshelaughingorcrying?”Evanaskshistwin.
It’shonestlythesweetestthinganyone’severdoneforme.AllthemoremeaningfulthatEvanputsomucheffortintotheperfectgift.Hisbrother’sgoingtohavetostepuphisgameifhewantstocompete.
OnceI’vecollectedmyself,IgetupandhugEvan,whoseemsrelievedthatI’mnotkickinghisass.Iguesstherewasalwaysthechancethegiftwouldbackfire,butIthinkEvanandIhavereachedanunderstanding.
“Ifyoutwoaredone,canwegetthisdamntreefinished?”Apparentlyfeelingleftout,Cooperpoutsbehindus.
“Keepthatattitudeupandyou’renotgettingyourpresenttonight,”Iwarnhim.
“Please,”Evansays,hushinguswithhisfingeroverhismouth.“BabyPotatoJesuscanhearyou.”
Afewdayslater,afterthemostlow-key—andbest—holidayI’veeverhad,I’mwithCooperinhisworkshop,helpinghimdust,polish,andwrapsomefurniture.Ithinkwatchingmemanagethehotelrenovationgavehimakickinthebutttopushhimselfharderwithhisownbusinessventure.He’sbeenpoundingthepavementandmakinginquiries,andthisweek,hereceivedacouplecallsfromboutiquestoresthatwanttosellafewofhispieces.Thismorning,wesentoffnewphotographsfortheirwebsites,andnowwe’regettingeverythingreadyfortransport.
“You’renotsellingmyset,right?”Iaskanxiously.
“Theoneyouneverpaidfor?”Hewinks,cominguptomecoveredinthesawdustthatclingstoeverythinginhere.
“Thingsgotalittlehectic.Butyou’reright,Ioweyouacheck.”
“Forgetit.Ican’ttakeyourmoney.”Heshrugsadorably.“Thosepieceswerealwaysyourswhetheryouboughtthemornot.Onceyoulaidhandsonthem,itwouldhavefeltwrongtoletthemgoanywhereelse.”
Myheartsomersaultsinmychest.“Firstofall,that’soneofthesweetestthingsyou’veeversaid.Andsecondofall,youcantotallytakemymoney.That’sthethingaboutmoney.Itworkseverywhere.”
“Spokenlikeatrueclone.”
Forthat,Ismackhimwithmypolishingrag.
“Hands,Cabot.”
“Yeah,I’llshowyouhands,Hartley.”
“Ohyeah?”Withasmirk,hetugsmetowardhim,hismouthcoveringmineinapossessivekiss.
Histongueisjustslickingoverminewhenanunfamiliarfemalevoicechirpsfromtheopengaragedoor.
“Knock,knock!”CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
COOPER
Ifreezeatthesoundofthatvoicebehindme.Mybloodstingsicecold.IhopeasIgrudginglyturnaroundthatthesoundwasavividhallucination.
Nosuchluck.
Attheentrance,ShelleyHartleystandswavingatme.
Goddamnit.
Idon’thowlongit’sbeensincethelasttimesheblewintotown.Months.Ayear,maybe.Theimageofherinmymindisdistortedandconstantlyshifting.Shelooksthesame,Iguess.Badblondedyejob.Toomuchmakeup.DressedlikeawomanhalfheragewhowanderedintoaJimmyBuffetconcertandneverleft.It’sthesmile,though,asshewaltzesintotheworkshop,thatgetsmybackup.Shehasn’tearnedit.
Mybrainisreeling.Someone’spulledthepinandhandedmealivegrenade,andI’vegotsecondstofigureouthownottoletitblowupinmyface.
“Hey,baby,”shesays,throwingherarmsaroundme.Thestenchofgin,cigarettes,andlilac-scentedperfumebringshotbilerisingtothebackofmythroat.Fewsmellssendmesoviolentlybacktochildhood.“Mommamissedyou.”
Yeah,Ibet.
IttakesheraboutsixsecondstocatchhereyesonMacandthediamondbraceletshewearsthatbelongedtohergreat-grandmother.ShelleyallbutshovesmeoutofthewaytograbMac’swristunderthepretenseofahandshake.
“Who’sthisprettygirl?”sheasksme,beaming.
“Mackenzie.Mygirlfriend,”Itellherflatly.Macflickshereyestomeinconfusion.“Mac,thisisShelley.Mymom.”
“Oh.”Macblinks,recoveringquickly.“It’s,ah,nicetomeetyou.”
“Well,comeonandhelpmeinside,”Shelleysays,stillholdingontoMac.“I’vegotgroceriesfordinner.Hopeeveryone’shungry.”
There’snocarinthedriveway.Justabunchofpaperbagssittingonthefrontporchsteps.Notellinghowshegothereorwhatdreadfulwindblewherbackintotown.Shewasprobablykickedoutbyanotherpatheticsapwhoshedrainedforeverylastdime.Orsheranoutonhiminthemiddleofthenightbeforehediscoveredshe’drobbedhimblind.Iknowthisforcertain:Itwon’tendwell.Shelleyisawalkingcatastrophe.Sheleavesonlyruininherwake,mostofitlaidatthefeetofhersons.Ilearnedalongtimeagothatnothingwithheriseverasitseems.Ifshe’sbreathing,she’slying.Ifshe’ssmilingatyou,guardyourwallet.
“Evan,baby,Momma’shome,”shecallswhenwegetinside.
Hecomesoutofthekitchenatthesoundofhervoice.Hisfaceblanchesatrealizing,asIdid,itisn’tatrickofhisimagination.Hestandsdeadstill,almostasifexpectinghertoevaporate.Indecisionplaysbehindhiseyes,wonderingifit’ssafe,orifhe’llgetbitten.
Storyofourlives.
“Comehere.”Shelleycoaxeshimwithopenarms.“Gimmeahug.”
Tentativeatfirst,keepingoneeyeonmeforanexplanationIdon’thave,heembracesher.Unlikeme,heactuallyreturnsthehug.
Disapprovalflaresinsideme.Evan’sgotanendlesssupplyofforgivenessforthiswomanthatIwillneverunderstand.He’sneverwantedtoseethetruth.Heexpectsthateverytimeourmomwalksbackthroughourdoor,she’sheretostay,thatthistimewe’llbeafamily,despitetheyearsofdisappointmentandhurtshe’sputusthrough.
“What’sgoingon?”heasks.
“Dinner.”Shepicksupacoupleofthegrocerybagsandhandsthemofftohim.“Lasagna.Yourfavorite.”
Macofferstohelpbecauseshe’stoopoliteforherowndamngood.Iwanttotellhernottobother.Shedoesn’thavetoimpressanyone.Instead,Ibitemytongueandstickcloseby,becausethere’snowayI’mleavingMacalonewiththatwoman.Shelley’dprobablyshaveMac’sheadforthepriceherhairwouldfetchwithablack-marketwigmaker.
Later,whenShelleyandEvanareinthekitchen,ItaketheopportunitytopullMacasideunderthepretenseofsettingthetable.
“Domeafavor,”Isay.“Don’ttalkaboutyourfamilywhensheasks.”
Herforeheadwrinkles.“Whatdoyoumean?Whynot?”
“Please.”Myvoiceislow.Urgent.“Don’tmentionmoneyorwhatyourdaddoes.Anythingthatsuggeststhey’rewelloff.Oryou,forthatmatter.”
“I’dnevertrytomakeyourmomuncomfortable,ifthat’swhatyoumean.”
Mac’sgoodaboutnotrubbingherfortuneineveryone’sface,butthat’snotwhatI’mgettingat.
“It’snotthat,babe.Idon’tcarewhatyouhavetosay.Lie.Trustmeonthis.”Then,rememberingherbracelet,Iholdherwristandundothelatch,stickingitinthepocketofherjeans.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Shelooksalarmed.
“Please.Untilshe’sgone.Don’twearitinfrontofher.”
IhavenoideahowlongShelley’splanningtostickaroundorwheresheintendstostay.Herroomisexactlyhowsheleftit.Wedon’tgointhere.Ifpastexperienceisanyindication,however,she’llbeouttrawlingforanewmanbeforemidnight.
We’reallpainfullywell-behavedduringdinner.Evan,poorguy,evenseemshappytohaveShelleyhome.Theychataboutwhatshe’sbeenupto.Turnsoutshe’slivinginAtlantawithsomeguyshemetatacasino.
“Wefoughtoveraslotmachine,”shegusheswithagiggle,“andendedupfallingrightinlove!”
Uh-huh.I’msurethey’lllivehappilyeverafter.Giventhatshe’shere,they’veprobablyalreadybrokenup.
“Howlongareyoustaying?”Iinterruptherlovestory,mybrusquetonecausingMactofindmyhandunderthetable.Shegivesitacomfortingsqueeze.
ShelleylooksoffendedthatIwoulddareaskherthatquestion.
Evanshootsmeadarklook.“Dude.Chill.Shejustgothere.”
Yes,andIwanttoknowwhenshe’sleaving,Iwanttosnap.Ittakessuperhumanefforttokeepmymouthshut.
“So,Mackenzie,”Shelleysaysafterthestrained,prolongedsilencethatfallsoverthedinnertable.“Howdidyouendupdatingmyson?Howdidyoutwomeet?Tellmeeverything.”
Forthenextfifteenminutes,MacdodgesdozensofpryingquestionswhereshecanandspitssomeGrade-Abullshitfortherest.
IgetasurreptitiouswhatthefuckglancefromEvan,whomanagestokeephisdamnmouthshutandgowithit.MybrothermightbeapushoverwhereShelley’sconcerned,buthe’snotanidiot.Formypart,Ispeakaslittleaspossible.Afraidatanymomentmyfilterwillmalfunction,andI’llbeunabletostopthetiradethatwillinevitablyfollow.FewpeoplegetmeworkeduplikeShelleyHartley.
Afterdinner,I’matthesinkrinsingplateswhenshecornersmealone.
“Youwereawfullyquiet,”shesays,takingaplatefrommetoputinthedishwasher.
“Tired,”Igrunt.
“Oh,mysweetboy.Youworktoohard.Youneedtogetmorerest.”
Imakeanoncommittalnoise.Myskincrawlseverytimeshetriesplayingthematernalrole.Itdoesn’tsuither.
“Mackenzieseemssweet.”Thereareallsortsofeuphemismsinthatstatement,noneofthemnice.
IdomybesttoignoreherasIrinseandpass,keepingmyheaddown.“Yeah.She’scool.”
“Noticedthatbracelet.Andthepurseinthelivingroom.”
Myshoulderstense.
“Verypricey.Nicejob,baby.”
Itastebloodfromtheinsideofmycheekwhensheflashesaknowingsmile.It’sblatantlyobviouswhatshethinks—thatI’vefoundmyselfamealticket.She’sbeenrunningthesameconsolong,I’mnotsuresheremembersanyotherwaytolive.
“So,listen,baby…”
Hereitcomes.Offuckingcourse.There’salwaysanask.Anangle.
“Youknow,Ialmostdidn’tmakeithereinonepiece,”shecontinues,oblivioustotheangerbubblingupinmygut.“Thatoldcarofminestartedspewingsmokeonthehighway.Hadtogetittowedfromatruckstop.Turnsoutsomelittleplasticboxintheenginewentandblewup.”Shelaughssheepishly.“NowItalkedtheguydown,butI’mgonnacomeupalittleshortontherepaircost.”
“What’sup?”Evanentersthekitchenintimetooverheartheendofherbullshitstory.Fuckingperfect.“Yourcarbrokedown?”
“It’salwayssomethingwiththatpieceofjunk,wouldn’tyouknow?”shesays,playingthedamselbecauseEvancanneverresistachancetobeahero.“Anyway,Iwasworkingthisjob,butIgotlaidoffaftertheholidays.It’sbeentoughfindingsomethingnew.This’llwipeouteverythingIhadsavedup.”
“We’retappedout,”Iinformher,glancingatEvan.“We’vebeenputtingeverythingintofixingthehouse.”
“Andtheplacelooksgreat.”Shewon’tmeetmyeyes.Notwhenshe’sgotsuchaneasytargetwithEvan.“Ineedacouplehundredtogetthecarback.ThenIcangetaroundtolookforanewjobaroundhere.I’llpayyouback.”
“You’restaying?”Evansays.
Poor,dumbbastard.Thehopefulnessinhisvoiceispitiful.Iwanttoslaphimupsidethehead.
Shelleygoestohim,hugginghissideassheburiesherheadunderhischin.“Ifyou’llletme.Imissmyboys.”
Evanreachesrightintohispocketandpullsoutseveraltwenties.Probablyeverythingthatwasleftfromhislastpaycheck.“Here’sone-fifty.”Heshrugs.“I’llhituptheATMfortherest.”Meaninghissavingsaccount.
“Thanks,baby.”Shekisseshischeekandimmediatelyextricatesherselffromhisarms.“Whowantsmilkshakes?Likeweusedtogetfromtheboardwalk?I’mgonnarunoutrealquickforsmokesandI’llbringsomemilkshakesbackforus.”
I’llbeshockedifshe’sbackbeforesunrise.
Laterinbed,Ican’tsleep.I’mrackedwithtension,stillstewingaboutShelley.Ididn’tbotherwaitingaroundtoseeifshe’dmaterializewiththemilkshakes.Assoonassheleft,MacandIwenttohideinmyroom.Orrather,Idid,andshecametokeepmecompany.Now,sherollsover,andflicksonthebedsidelamp.
“Icanfeelyouthinking,”shemurmurs,findingmestaringattheceilingfan.
“Yeah.Ijust…I’msorryIaskedyoutodothatearlier.Mymothertookonelookatyou,yourbracelet,yourpurse,andfiguredyouwereloaded.”Resentmenttightensmythroat.“Shelleynevermetanyoneshecouldn’tuse.Ididn’twanthertoknowyourfamilyhasmoneybecause,sureasshit,she’dfindawaytohelpherselftosomeofit.”
“Okay,butthathasnothingtodowithus.”Macrunsherhandovermychestandrestsherheadonmyarm.“Iwouldn’twantyoutojudgemebymyparents,either.”
“ShethinksI’monlywithyoubecauseyou’rerich.”
“Yeah?Well,she’swrong.Iknowthatisn’ttrue.Imean,hell,youshouldprobablybereferringmetocollectionsforthatfurnitureIkeepforgettingtopayyoufor.”
“I’llputtheinterestonyourbill.”Ikissthetopofherheadandpullhercloser.Havingherinmyarmsdoestaketheedgeoff.“Seriously,though.I’dneveruseyouthatway.I’mnothinglikethatwoman.”
“Cooper.”Hervoiceisgentle,reassuring.“Youdon’thavetoconvinceme.”
Maybe.SeemsI’veneverstoppedhavingtoconvincemyself.
Macsnugglesclosertome.“Howlongdoyouthinkshe’llstickaroundfor?”
“Igiveittwenty-fourhours.Maybeforty-eight.”
“That’sreallysad.”
Ichucklesoftly.“It’sreallynot.Maybeitwassad,onceuponatime,butthesedaysIwishshe’djuststayawayforgood.Everytimeshecomesback,shetoyswithEvan’semotions.Shestressesmeout,andIendupsnappingateveryonearoundme.Ispendtheentiretimeholdingmybreath,waitingforhertoleave,prayingthatthistimeit’llbeforever.”
“Butshekeepscomingback.Thathastomeansomething,right?”Mac,blessherheart,isclearlytryingtoequateShelley’svisitswithsomesortofloving,maternalneedtoreunitewithhersons.
“Itmeansherlatestrelationshipblewupinherface,orshe’sbroke,orboth,”Isaysimply.“Trustme,princess.We’vedonethissameoldsonganddancesinceIwasfourteenyearsold.Shelleyisn’thereforus.She’shereforherself.”
IfeelMac’swarmbreathonmycollarboneassherisesonherelbowtokissthesideofmyjaw.“I’msorry,Cooper.Youdon’tdeservethat.”
“Itiswhatitis.”
“Stop,”shechides.“Justacceptmysorryandnowletmehelpyouforgetforalittlewhile.”Shekissesherwaydownmybody,reachinginsidemyboxers.
Iclosemyeyes,moanquietly,andletmyselfforget.
Forty-eighthours.
Iwould’vewageredontwenty-four,buthey,Istillcalledit.Exactlytwodaysafterhersuddenarrival,IcatchShelleymakingforthebackdoorwithaduffelbagoverhershoulder.
It’sbarelysevena.m.andI’mthefirstoneup.I’djustputonapotofcoffeeafterlettingDaisyoutwhenShelleycamecreepingintothekitchen.
“Sneakingoffalready?”Iinquirefromthecounter.
Sheturnsaround,startled,butcoversitwithalaugh.“Baby.Youscaredme.Iwastryingnottowakeanybody.”
“Weren’tevengoingtosaygoodbye?”Personally,Idon’tgiveadamn.ButtakingoffonEvanisaheartbreakhedoesn’tdeserve.
“Whydon’tIthrowonsomepancakes?”Shedropsherbagbythedoorandprancesoverwithhertypicalmisdirectingsmile.“Wecanenjoyanicebreakfasttogether.”
Fine.Guesswe’redoingonelastsonganddance.Icanplayalongifitmeansherdepartureistheendresult.
MacandEvanareupshortlyafter,enteringthekitchenintimeforShelleytoservethembreakfast.Ishovesomepancakeinmymouthandchewslowly,thenleanbackinmychair,waitingforthebullshittostartspewing.ButShelleyisstudiouslyavoidingmyexpectantgaze,regalingMackenziewithsomedumbstoryaboutourchildhood.We’realmostdoneeatingwhenitbecomesclearthatShelleywon’tgetonwithitwithoutalittleprodding.
“Sowhereyouofftonow?”Iaskdead-faced,interruptingyetanotherstoryofEvanandmegrowingup,whichI’msureisentirelyfabricatedtomakeherouttobelessofabadmom.
Shelleypullsupshortandbarelycoverstheglareofannoyance.Shewipeshermouththendrainsthelastofherorangejuice.“It’sbeensogoodseeingyouboys,”shesaystoEvan,puttingonasadvoice.“IreallywishIcouldstaylonger,butI’mafraidI’mheadingoutthismorning.”
Afrownmarshislips.“Why?”
“Thingis,youknow,thereain’tanyjobsaroundhereformerightnow.Iknowthisfella,though.MethimbackinBatonRouge.He’sgotsomework.Imeanhepracticallybeggedmetocomebackandruntheplace.”Herbottomlipsticksout.“YouknowIdon’twanttoleavemyboys,butIgottamakesomemoney.Iwanttohelpyoutwofixthisplaceup.”
Shegoesonlikethatforabitlonger.Blowingsmoke.Convincingherselfthere’ssomenobleendtoherperpetualabandonmentandbrokenpromises.She’sfullofshit—yesterdayIsawatleastfiveHELPWANTEDsignsaroundtheBay.AndI’mprettysurethisfellaisherex,whosheprobablysweet-talkedintoasecondchance.Ormaybeit’sjustbeenlongenoughthatshecouldhithimupforroundtwo.Doesn’tmatter.Ifitwasn’toneexcuse,it’dbeanother.She’dleaveusforabolognasandwichaslongasitwasawayfromhere
“OnceIgetsettledin,youshouldcomevisitme,”Shelleysaysfifteenminuteslaterwhenshe’shuggingEvangoodbye.“I’mgonnahavetogetanewphone.Lastonegotshutoff.I’llcallyousoonasIhaveit.”
Shewon’t.Therewon’tbeanycallsortexts.Nofamilyvacations.It’sroutineatthispoint,thebullshitfarewellsandinsincereplacations.Itdoesn’tfazemeanymore,butfuckherforputtingEvanthroughthisagain.
“Yeah,makesureyougiveusthenewnumberwhenyougetit,”Evansays,noddingseriously.“Weneedtohaveawaytocontactyou.”
Why?Ialmostask,buttampdowntheurge.IfEvanwantstoliveinsomedelusionalworldwherehismotherloveshim,whoamItojudge?
“Bye,baby.”Shelleypullsmeinforahugdespitemyvisiblereluctance.Sheevenplantsakissonmycheek.SomeonegiveheraMomoftheYearaward,quick.“Seeyousoon,Ipromise.”
Andthen,asquicklyassheblewin,Shelley’sgone.Inflictingminimumdamage,fortunately.
OrsoIthink.
Itisn’tuntilaboutaweeklater,oneeveningafterwork,whenIdiscoverthetrueextentofthedamagedonebymymother’svisit.Mac’sbirthdayiscomingup—turnsoutit’sthedaybeforemine—andalthoughshetoldmenottogetheranything,I’mdeterminedtobuyhersomethingawesome.Macgivesmesofewchancestospoilher,ImadetheexecutivedecisiontoignoreheranddowhateverthehellIwantinstead.
Inmyroom,beneathaloosefloorboardundermydresser,IpullouttheoldtoffeetinwhereI’vekeptmycashandcontrabandsinceIwaselevenyearsold.Iopenthelid,expectingtofindthemoneyI’vestashedthere,alltheunder-the-tablecashI’dearnedfromsidegigs,kepthiddenfromthebankandtaxauthorities’grubbyhands.Twelvegrandheldtogetherbytworubberbands.Theifallelsefailsfund.
Butthemoney’snotthere.
Everylastdime.
Gone.CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
MACKENZIE
Fromthelivingroom,IhearacommotioninCooper’sbedroom.Asharpsnapoffthewallandsomethingclatteringtothewoodenfloor.Suddenly,Cooperbarrelsdownthehall.
Daisy,barkingherheadoffbecauseshegetsrambunctiousaboutanhourbeforeit’stimetofeedher,chasesafterhimashetramplesthroughthelivingroom.
“Hey,youokay?”Ijumpupfromthecouch.
“Fine,”hesays,growlingthewordsthroughgrittedteeth.Hedoesn’tpausetoevenlookatme.
“What’swrong?”
Ratherthangetareply,Iwatchhimflingopentheslidingglassdoorandstompoutside.HeslamsthedoorshutinDaisy’sface,barelymissingher,thoughsheseemsonlydisappointedthathe’sgoingoutsidewithouther.
Toappeaseher,Iputoutherfood,thengrabmyshoestogohuntingforCooper.Ifindhimahundredyardsdownthebeachthrowingsmallpiecesofdriftwoodatthewaves.BythetimeIreachhim,I’mregrettingnotgrabbingasweaterfirstoratleastputtingonsomelongpants,ratherthanrunningoutinshortsandaT-shirt.It’snearlydarkandasteadybreezeturnsmyskinbumpyinminutes.
“Whathappened?”Iaskhim.
“Gohome.”Hisvoiceiseerilyflat,astarkcontradictionofhisangry,violentmovements.
“Okay,no.Solet’smoveontothepartwhereyoujusttellme.”
“Damnit,Mac,notnow,alright?Letitbe.”Hekicksupsand,searchingforsomethingelsetothrowandgrowingmorefrustratedatthelackofoptions.
“Iwantto.Iwould,ifIthoughtitwouldhelp.ButIdon’tthinkitwill,so…”
Hedragshishandsthroughhishair.He’dthrowhisownheadatthetideifhecouldgetitoffhisneck.“Whydoyouhavetobesodamn…”Therestcomesoutonlyasgrunts.
“Bornthisway,Iguess.”Disregardinghisfrustration,Isitandinvitehimtojoinme.
Severalsecondsofsilenceeventuallybreakhiswillandheplopsdownonthesand.
“What’sup?”Iaskquietly.
“Shestoleit.”
“What?”
Cooperrefusestolookatme,hisgazegluedtothewater.“Myemergencyfund.Everylastdollar.”
“Wait,yourmom?”Dismayripplesthroughme.“You’resure?”
Hehuffsoutahumorlesslaugh.“Positive.NotevenEvanknowswhereIkeepmystash.”
Damn.That’sharsh.
“Ishouldhavehiddenitthesecondsheshowedup,”hesays,groaning.“ShefoundmypotwhenIwasthirteenandsmokeditallwhenIwasatschool.Iforgotaboutthatuntiltonight,forgotsheknewaboutthehidingspot.OrmaybeIjustgavehertoomuchcreditnottostealfromherownkids.”
“I’msorry.”Itsoundsinadequateunderthecircumstances.HowdoIapologizetosomeoneforalifetimeofpain?“Howmuchdidshetake?”
“Twelvegrand,”hemutters.
Jeez.Okay.Mybrainkicksintosolutionmode,becausethat’showIoperate.Wheneverthere’saproblemwithoneofmywebsites,anunwelcomesnaginthehotelrenos,Ibecomeanalytical.Iassesstheproblemandtrytofindawaytofixit.
“Thatsucks,itreallydoes.Iknowyou’repissedoffandfeelbetrayed,andyouhaveeveryrighttofeelthatway.”Ilinkmyarmthroughhisandleanmyheadonhisshoulder.Forsupport.AndbecauseI’mfreezing.Cooperalwaysrunswarm,aperpetualsourceofheat.“Butatleastit’sonlymoney,right?Icanhelpyou.Icanreplaceit.”
“Seriously?”Heripshisarmfromme.“Whywouldyou—”Coopercan’tfinishthesentence.Hejumpstohisfeet.“Whatthefuck,Mac?Whyisthatalwayswhereyourheadgoes?Throwmoneyattheproblem.”
“Ithoughtmoneywastheproblem,”Iprotest.
Thethunderouslookonhisfacepricksmynerves.WhyisiteverytimeIoffertodosomethingniceforhim,Igetsandkickedinmyeye?
“HowmanydifferentwaysdoIhavetosayit?”heshoutsatme.“Idon’twantyourgoddamnmoney.Doyouevengrasphowinfantilizingitistohaveyourgirlfriendconstantlyfollowingyouaroundwithherpurseopen?”
“That’snotwhatIdo,”Ianswer,myjawtight.Thisguyispushingthelimitsofmypatience.Hewantstobemadathismom,fine.Hewantstovent,good.ButI’mnotthebadguyhere.“I’monlytryingtohelp.Youneedmoney,Ihavemorethanenough.Whyisthatwrong?Themoneydoesn’tmeananythingtome.”
“Weknow.”Thewordscomeoutasalong,sullensigh.“That’sthewholefuckingpoint.Youclonesthrowitaroundlikepartyfavorsandexpecttherestofustobegratefulfortheinvitation.I’mnotanotherservantgrovelingatyourfeetfortips,goddamnit.”
Soit’slikethat.I’mbacktobeinga“clone.”Fine.
“Youknowwhat,Coop?Howaboutyoudealwithyourownhang-upsinsteadofheavingallyourinsecuritiesonme?I’mgettingrealfuckingsickofwithstandingtheworstofeveryone’slittletowniemicroaggressions.Getoverit.Becauseletmetellyousomethingfromexperience:Richorpoor,badparentsarejustbadparents.Yourmomsucks.Welcometotheclub.Havingmoneywouldn’thavemadeherstay.”
Iregretthewordsthesecondtheyflyoutofmymouth.
Bothofusstandthereastonishedatwhatwe’vewitnessed.Howquicklywewentforblood.Everypent-upfeelingI’vehadsincemyparentscutmeoffcamerushingbacktothesurface,andIthrewitallinCooper’sfaceasifitwerehisfault—exactlywhatIaccusedhimofdoingsecondsago.
Overwroughtwithremorse,Iscrambletoapologize.Buthe’salreadystormingoff,shoutingoverhisshouldernottofollowhimunlessthisisthelastconversationweeverwanttohave.Thistime,Itakehiswordforit.
Hourslater,though,whenhehasn’treturnedandEvanasksifIknowwhyCooper’sphoneisgoingstraighttovoicemail,Istarttoworry.Ifhewereonlymadatme,fine,I’dacceptthat.Butthewayhetoreoutofhere…therageinhiseyes…ThereareathousandwaysaguylikeCoopercangethimselfintotrouble.
Itonlytakesone.CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
COOPER
There’sadiveaboutanhourwestofAvalonBay.Ashack,ifyoucanevencallitthat,offatwo-lanecountyroadthatcutsthroughnothingbutemptyswampsandsmallfarms.Youcanusuallyheartherumbleofmotorcycleenginesidlinginthedirtparkinglotfromhalfamileaway.Ipullmytruckinandcuttheengine,thenduckinsidetofindtheplaceisdead,saveforafewmean-lookingbikersbythepooltableandsomeoldguysspreadoutatthebar.ItakeaseatonastoolandorderacouplefingersofJack.Bythesecondglass,aguyacoupleseatsdownstartsjawingatnooneinparticular.He’sgoingonaboutfootball,respondingtoeverythingtheESPNtalkingheadsaresayingonthelonetelevisionaboveus.Itrytoignorehimuntilheleanstowardme,smackingthebarwithhisflatpalm.Igetflashbackstobeingabartenderandhavetorestrainmyselffromsnappingathim.
“Whoyagot?”hedemandstoknowwithslurredurgency.WhenIignorehim,herepeatshimselflouderandslower.“TheSuperBowl.Whoyagot,kid?”
Isparehimalook.“I’llbuyyouadrinktogetlost.”
“Ohhh.”Helaughs,mockingme.“Getaloadofhim,huh?Shhh…”Heholdshisfingeroverhismouthandshowsittoeveryone.“Y’allquietthehelldown.Thekidwantssomedamnpeaceandquiet,yagotthat?”
Icameheretogetlost,tobeleftalone.There’snochanceMacwouldfindmehere,andthiswastheonlyplaceIcouldthinkofthatEvandoesn’tknowabout.WhilehewasstillclingingtoShelleyafterourdad’sdeath,myunclebroughtmeheretoblowoffsomesteamatthedartboards.Iwanttobealone,butI’llembarrasstheshitoutofthisassholeifhewantstomakeathingofit.Hell,maybeIshouldchannelEvanandstartabarfight,letoffsomesteam.Imean,whythehellnot,right?
JustasI’mtalkingmyselfintotheidea,ahandslapsdownonmyshoulderfrombehind.
“Letmegettwobeers,”afamiliarvoicetellsthebartender.
Iglanceovertofindmyuncletakingthestoolbesideme.Fuckinghell.
“Gary,”hesaystothedrunkwhowasgettinginmyface.“Whydon’tyougetonhometothemissus?”
“SuperBowl’son,”abelligerentGaryslurs,jerkingahandtowardtheTV.“Can’texpectmetoleaveduringtheSuperBowl.”
“That’sarerunoflastyear’sgame,”Levireplieswiththepatienceofasaint.“SuperBowl’snextmonth,Gary.NowyoubettergohometoMimi,yeah?Sureshe’sabouttosendthedogsafteryou.”
“Thatdamnwoman.”Garygrumbleshiswaytoopeninghiswalletandthrowingdownafewbillsonthebar.Hemutterssomethingaboutcan’tletamandrinkthenteetershiswayoutside.
Despitewantingtoknockhisteethinmeresecondsago,Ican’thelpbutstarewithabitofconcernafterthestumblingman.
“Don’tworry.He’llgetaboutaquartermileonfootbeforeshefindshimpassedoutintheweeds,”Levisays.“He’sfine.”
Ilookatmyuncleinsuspicion.“Macsendyou?”
“Evantextedme.Saidyouleftinahurry.”
Ofcoursehedid.BecauseMacwould’verunrighttohernewbestfriendsotheycouldtalkshitaboutme.I’vehadituptomyfuckingeyeballswiththosetwogangingup.
“Idon’twanttotalkaboutit,”Imutter,leavingnoroomforargument.
“Good,”heshrugs,“Icameheretodrink.”
LevitossesbackhisbeerandtrainshiseyesontheTV,neveronceslidingaglancemyway.It’sarelief.Atfirst.Thenanhourgoesby.Andanother.Andsoon,I’masdrunkasGarywaswhenheleft,andmymindistorturingmewithalltheshitthatwentdowntonight,fromfindingmylifesavingsstolentothefightwithMaconthebeach.Replayingbrokenbitsoftheconversationinmyhead,Ican’tquiterememberwhatIsaidtoher,butI’mcertainitwasn’tgood.
“Shelleycameback,”Ifinallysay,thealcohollooseningmytongue.“Fortwodays.Thenmadeoffwithmylifesavings.”
Levimakesafullquarterturntostareatthesideofmyface.
“Twelvegrand.”Idrawcirclesinthecondensationringonthebarwithmycardboardcoaster.“Poof.Allgone.Rightoutfromundermynose.”
“Jesus.Gotanyideawheresheranoffto?”
“Nope.BatonRouge,maybe.Butthatwasprobablybullshit.Alotofdifferenceitmakes.She’snotcomingbackthistime.Noway.”
“I’msorry,Coop,butthatwomanisnogood.”Levidrainshisbeerandplunksitdown.“Igottiredofapologizingformybrotheralongtimeago.Imakenoexcusesforhim.Heleftyouboysinabadwaywithallthosedebts.ButthatgoddamnShelleyain’tliftedafingertohelpinalltheseyears.”Bitternesscolorshistone.“YouandEvanhaveworkedsohardtodigyourselvesout.Nowshestrutsinandripsallthatoutfromunderyou?Hellno.Notonmywatch.”Hishandcomesdownhardonthesplinteredwoodbar,jarringmywhiskeyglass.
I’veneverseenmyunclethisupset.He’saquietguy.Steady.Foryears,hebithistonguewhileShelleypoppedinandoutasshepleased.Afterheeventuallybecameourguardian,heneveroncemadeusfeellikeaburdenforit.HearinghimtalkthiswayisaboutasclosetospittingmadasI’veheardhimget.Forallthegooditdoesus.
“Whatistheretodo?”Ifeelasbitterashelooks.“There’snocatchinguptohernow.Ifshedoesn’twanttobefound,shewon’tbe.”
Mygutstilltwistswithanger.Forthemoney,sure,butmoresoforthehumiliation.Thebetrayal.Forallthewaysthiswomanhasmadeafoolofusovertheyears.Andwe’vetakenit.HowEvanstillthinks,maybe—evenwhenheknowsbetter—maybethistimeit’sreal.GoddamnShelley.
“Weain’tlickedyet,”Levitellsme.“Andwe’redoneenablingthatwoman’sbadbehavior,youhearme?”
BeforeIcananswer,hesignalssomeoneattheoppositeendofthebar.“Steve,hey,gotaquestionforya,”Levihollers.
Followingmyuncle’sgaze,Ispottheoff-dutycopwhoseuniformshirtisopentoexposeasweat-stainedwhiteundershirt.
“Whatdoyouneed,Levi?”Stevehollersback,becauseintheBay,everyoneknowseveryone.
“Howmightwegoaboutpressingchargesagainstsomeonewhoskippedtown?”
What?Mystartledgazefliestomyuncle,buthe’sfocusedonthecop.
Shakingtheglazeoutofhiseyes,Stevesitsupstraighter.“Whatwetalkingabout?”
Levi’stoneisgrim.Deadly,even.“Grandlarceny.”CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT
MACKENZIE
EvenDaisyhasgivenuponme.Atfirst,shescamperedaroundmyfeetasIpacedthehouse,typingthendeletingtextstoCooper.NextshesatwithherchewropebesidetherefrigeratorwhenIcompulsivelycleanedthekitchen.Whichisfuckedup,becauseI’veneverbeenastresscleaner.HowcouldI?Igrewupinahousefullofmaids.Whenthevacuumcomesout,Daisybolts.Idon’tblameher.I’mterriblecompanyatthemomentanyway.Butwhenspotlessfloorsfailtoeasemyanxiousmind,IendupinEvan’sroom,whereDaisyiscurledupathisfeetasheplaysavideogame
“Hey,”Isay,knockingonhisopendoor.
Hepausesthegame.“What’sup?”
“Nothing.”
Evananswerstheunspokenquestionintheair.“Hehasn’ttextedmebackeither.”
“Yeah,Ifigured.”Huggingthedoorframe,Idon’tknowwhatIcameherefor,butIwasboredofstewingalone.I’madoer,notawaiter.Ihatesittingstill.IfCooperwantedtopunishmeforourfight,thisisdoingthetrick.
“Comehere.”Evanjerkshisheadandpicksupthesecondcontrollerforhisconsole.It’sseveraliterationsoldandrunningonaflatscreenthatlookslikeitwaspawnedaftergettingtossedoutonsomeone’slawn.Therearedeadspotsonthepictureandacrackintheframeheldtogetherbyblacktape.
MyfirstinstinctisthatEvanneedsanewone.Asifhesensesthethought,hegivesmeaknowingsmirkthatsaysnottobother.
Right.Boundaries.Ineedtoworkonthat.Noteveryonewantsmyhelp.
“You’regoingtobethisguy,”heinformsme,thenprovidesarapidexplanationofthegameaswesitontheedgeofhisbed.“Gotit?”
“Yep.”Igraspthegistofit,Ithink.Imean,myobjectiveandhowtomovearound.Basically.Sortof.
“Followme,”heinstructs,leaningforward.
Itdoesnotgowell.We’reambushed,andinsteadofshootingatthebadguys,Isetoffagrenadeandkillusboth
Evansnortsloudly.
“Iliketheracinggamesbetter,”Iconfesswithanapologeticshrug.“I’mgoodatthose.”
“Yeah,princess.I’veseenyoudrive.”
“Bullshit.I’magreatdriver.Ijustprefertogowithasenseofurgency.”
“Ifthat’swhatyouwanttocallit.”
Inudgehimwithmyelbowasthelevelresetsforanothertry.Thistime,Iattempttofocus.WemakeitalittlefurtherbeforeIgetblownupagain.
“Thisisn’thelping,isit?”
Ibitemylip.“Notreally.”
Idon’tknowwhyIthoughtsittingnexttothespittingimageofCooperwouldtakemymindoffhim.It’sweird,butIalmostneverseeEvanandCooperasremotelysimilar,theirpersonalitiesdiverginginsomanyways.YetifI’mbeinghonest,therearetimeswhereIimaginehoweverythingmighthavebeendifferentifnotforthewhimsyofBonnie’sindiscriminatelibido.
Whateverhereadsonmyface,Evanexitsoutofthegameandsetsourcontrollersaside.“Let’shaveit,then.What’sonyourmind?”
Thoughourrapporthasevolvedoverthepastcouplemonths,Evan’shardlythefirstpersonI’dturntoforaheart-to-heart.MostofthetimehedisplaystheemotionaldepthofDaisy’swaterbowl.Atthismoment,though,he’sthenextbestthingtohisbrother.
“Whatifhedoesn’tcomeback?”Iaskinasmallvoice.
“Hehastocomeback.Heliveshere.”
Iletoutabreath.“Imean,tome.Whatifhedoesn’tcomebacktome?”Mypulsequickensatthathorriblenotion.“Ijust…Ican’tshakethefeelingthatit’soverthistime.Onefighttoomanyandthere’snogettingpastit.WhatifCooper’sfedupwithme?”
“Okay.”Evanseemstoponderthatforasecond.It’sstilleerieafterallthistimehowhismannerismsexactlymatchCooper’s,yetthey’relikearecordingwheretheaudiodoesn’tquitesyncwiththevideo.Everything’sahalfsecondoff.“Sonottobeadickoranything,butthat’sdumb.”
“Whichpart?”
“Allofit.YouremembermybrotheralmostknockedmyteethoutbecauseIwasanasstoyouonce,right?”
“Once?”Iechowitharaisedeyebrow.
Evangrins.“Yeah,well.Pointis,it’lltakealotmorethanafewargumentstorunhimoffyou.TherewasonesummerCoopandIwereateachother’sthroatsoverIdon’tknowwhat,andwewerebeatingthetaroutofeachotherabouteveryotherday.”Heshrugs.“Doesn’tmeanshit.Fightingishowweworkedthingsout.”
“Butyou’rebrothers,”Iremindhim.“That’sahugedifference.”
“AndwhatI’msayingis,Coopcaresthatmuchaboutyou.You’renotstayingherefortherentmoneyorbecausehelikesyourcooking.”
Hehasapoint.Idon’tcook.Atall.Ever.Notonce.Asforrent,everymonthI’vebeenhereI’veleftwhatIthoughtwasafairmarketvalueofarentcheckonCooper’sdresser,buthekeepsrefusingtocashthem.SoIalwaysleaveabackupwithEvan.
“But…”Myteethworrymybottomlipagain.“Youdidn’tseethelookonhisfacewhenhestormedoff.”
“Um.I’veseeneverylookonhisface.”Hemugsforme,seekingalaugh.
Fine.Thatwassortoffunny.
“Look,”hesays,“atsomepoint,Cooper’sgoingtostumbleinpissdrunkandgrovelforyoutoforgivehimoncehe’scometohissenses.He’sgotaprocess.Youjustgottalethimworkthroughthesteps.”
Iwanttobelievehim.Thatdespiteallthewayswehaveabsolutelynothingincommon,CooperandIsomehowdevelopedaconnectionstrongerthanwhatseparatesus,deeperthanthescarsthatkeephimupatnight.Thealternativeistoopainful.BecauseIcan’tchangewhereIcomefromanymorethanhecan.Ifthisisthedistanceourrelationshipcan’tspan,I’mnotreadytoconsiderwhatmynewlifewouldbewithouthim
Evanthrowshisarmaroundmyshoulder.“IknowCoopbetterthananyone.TrustmewhenIsayhe’scrazyaboutyou.AndI’vegotnoreasontolie.”
Evan’speptalkdigsmymoodoutofthegutteratleastmarginally.Enoughthatwhenayawnslamsintome,I’mmotivatedtogetreadyforbed.
“Promiseyou’llwakemeupifhecallsyou?”Ifret.
“Ipromise.”Evan’svoiceissurprisinglygentle.“Don’tstresstoohard,Mac.He’llbehomeinnotime,okay?”
Igiveaweaknod.“Okay.”
“Notime”endsupbeingaquarterpastmidnight,asI’mwokenfromarestlesssleepwhenthebeddipsbesideme.IfeelCooperslideunderthecovers.He’sstillwarmfromashowerandsmellsoftoothpasteandshampoo.
“Youawake?”heasksinawhisper.
Irollovertolieonmyback,rubbingmyeyes.It’spitchblackinthebedroombutforthepaleglowofthefloodlightonthesideofthehouse,filteringinthroughtheblinds.
“Yeah.”
Cooperletsoutalongbreaththroughhisnose.“ItalkedtoLevi.”
That’swhathe’sleadingwith?I’mnotsurewhatrelevanceithastooursituationorourfight,andpartofmewantshimtostopstallingandtellmeifwe’regoingtobeallright.ButIkeepmyimpatienceatbay.Evansaidhisbrotherhasaprocess.Maybethisispartofit.
SoIsay,“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”Alongbeat.“I’mgoingtopresschargesagainstShelley.Forstealingthemoney.”
“Wow.”Ithadn’toccurredtomethatwouldevenbeanoption.Butitmakessense.Motherornot,shestolemorethantenthousanddollarsfromhim.“Howdoyoufeelaboutit?”
“Honestly?Fuckedup.She’smymom,youknow?”I’mstartledtohearhisvoicecrack.“Idon’twanttothinkabouthergettingthrowninjail.Atthesametime,whatkindofpersonstealsfromtheirownkid?IfIdidn’tneedthemoney,I’dsaywhatever.Tohellwithit.ButthatwaseverycentIhadsavedup.Tookmeyears.”
He’stalkingtome.That’sagoodsign.
Exceptthen,hefallssilent,andthetwoofusliethere,nottouching,bothseeminglyafraidtodisturbtheairtoomuch.Afterseveralsecondstickby,Irealizethere’snothingstoppingmefromgoingfirst.
“I’msorry,”Itellhim.“Iwasoutoflineearlier.Igotdefensiveandlashedout.Itwasmeanandyoudidn’tdeservethat.”
“Well…”hesays,andIthinkIdetectahintofasmileinhisvoice.“Ihaditcomingalittle.Shelleygetsundermyskin,youknow?Ijustwanttothrowshitwhenshe’saround.Andthenshegoesandstealsmymoney…”Icanfeelthetensionbuildingupinhim,theeffortit’stakingtostaycalm.Thenonadeepbreath,herelaxesagain.“AlotofwhatIsaidcameoutatyoubecauseIwasmadather.Youwereright.I’vegotsomebullshitthatwastherewaybeforeyoucamealong.”
“Igetit.”Turningonmyside,Ifindhissilhouetteinthedark.“Ithoughtofferingyouthemoneywashelpful,butIseenowhowinthatmomentithitanerve.Iwasn’ttryingtothrowmoneyattheproblemoremasculateyou,Ipromiseyouthat.It’sjust…that’showmybrainworks.Igointoproblem-solvingmode—Moneystolen?Here’smoney.Youknow?Itwasn’tmeanttobeastatementaboutourrespectivebankaccounts.”Iswallowarushofguilt.“Inthefuture,whenitcomestothatkindofthing—familystuff,moneystuff—I’mhereifyouneedme.Otherwise,I’llbuttout.”
“I’mnotsayingIdon’twantyouinvolved.”Heshifts,rollingovertofacemetoo.“Idon’twantalltheselinesandrulesandshit.”Cooperfindsmyhandinthedarkandbringsitagainsthischest.He’sshirtless,inonlyhisboxers.Hisskiniswarmtothetouch.“Themoneythingisalwaysgoingtobethere,andI’vegottastopgettingbentouttashapeaboutit.Iknowyou’renottryingtomakemefeelanysortofway.”
“Iwasafraidyouweren’tcomingback.”Iswallowagain.Harder.“AslongasIwashere,Imean.”
“Gonnatakemorethanthattogetridofme.”Hetangleshisfingersinmyhair,rubbinghisthumbagainstthebackofmyneck.It’sasweet,soothinggesture,practicallyputtingmerightbacktosleep.“Ifiguredsomethingouttonight.”
“What’sthat?”
“IwassittinginthisgrimylittlebarwithLeviandabunchofsadoldbastardshidingfromtheirwivesoravoidingtheirsadoldhouses.Guysonlytwicemyagebutwho’vealreadydoneeverythingthat’severgoingtohappentothem.AndIthought,fuckme,man,I’vegotthiscrazyhotgirlathomeandourbiggestproblemisshe’salwaystryingtobuymeshit.”
Ismileagainstmypillow.Whenheputsitthatway,wesoundlikeacoupleofdumbasses.
“Andthisjoltkindofhitmesuddenly.Ithought,whatifsheisn’ttherewhenIgetback?Iwasglaringintothebottomofaglassfeelingsorryformyself.WhatifI’drunoffthebestthingthateverhappenedtome?”
“That’ssweet,butIwouldn’tgothatfar.”
“I’mserious.”Hisvoiceissoftyetinsistent.“Mac,thingsaroundherewerenevergood.Thenmydaddied,anditwasconfirmationthatnothingwouldgetanybetter.Shelleysplit.Wemadedo.Nevercomplained.AndthenyoushowedupandIstartedgettingideas.MaybeIdidn’thavetosettleforslightlybetterthannothing.MaybeIcouldevenbehappy.”
Hebreaksmyheart.Livingwithoutjoy,withoutanticipationthattomorrowcanstillbeextraordinary,willsuckthesoulrightoutofaperson.It’sthecold,dark,stranglinginfinityofnothingness,ofbeingswallowedupbydespair.Nothingcangrowintheemptyplaceswhereweresignourselvestothenumbness.Neverreallyalive.It’sthesamelongtunnelintocomplacencythatIsawclosinginaroundmetheharderIlookedatthefuturePrestonandmyparentsimaginedforme.
Coopersavedmefromthat.Notbecausehewhiskedmeaway,butbecausemeetinghimfinallyrevealedthepossibilitiesI’dbeenmissing.Theexhilarationofuncertainty.Passionandcuriosity.
IwashalfasleepuntilImethim.
“IthoughtIwashappy,”Itellhim,glidingmyfingersupanddownhisribs.“Foralongtime.Whatwastheretocomplainabout,right?I’dbeengiveneverythingIcouldeveraskfor—exceptpurpose.Achoice.Thepotentialtofail,togethurt.Toeverlovesomethingsomuchthethoughtoflosingittearsmeopen.Tonight,whenIthoughtyouandImightreallybeover,allsortsofthingsranthroughmyhead.Iwasmakingmyselfcrazy.”
Coopertiltsmychintowardhimandpresseshislipstominewiththelightesttouch.Enoughtomakemeseekhimoutforanothertaste.
Hisbreathisawarmwhisperagainstmylips.“Imightjustbefallinginlovewithyou,Cabot.”
Myheartjumps.“Uh-oh.”
“Youhavenoidea.”
Hedragshisfingersdownmyspine,settingeverynervealight.Ibitehisbottomlip,tugalittle,inourwordlesslanguagethatsaysIneedhim.Now.Takethisacheaway.Buthe’smethodically,frustratinglypatientinremovingmytanktopbeforehepalmsonebreastwhilelickingattheother.Hepusheshisboxersdown.Iwiggleoutofmyunderwearasheputsonacondom.Ashiverofanticipationskittersthroughmewhenhedragsthehotlengthofhimovermycore.
Heholdsmetightashemovesinsideme.Unhurried.Slow,languidstrokes.Iclingtohim,mufflingmymoansagainsthisshoulder.
“Iloveyoutoo,”Isay,shakinginhisarmswhileIcome.CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE
COOPER
AfewdaysafterfilingchargesagainstShelley,Ireceiveacalltocometothepolicestation.Onthephonewiththesheriff,IlearnthatthecopspickedherupinLouisiana,whereshemusthaveforgottenaboutalltheunpaidparkingticketsshe’dleftbehindafterher“fella”kickedhertothecurb.WhentheSouthCarolinawarrantpoppedup,thesheriffinBatonRougehadhertransferredbackuptotheBay.
Macandmybrothercometothestationwithme,butImakeEvanwaitoutsidewhilewegointospeaktoSheriffNixon.EvanwasequallyfurioustolearnthatShelleyrobbedmeblind,butIknowmybrother—he’llalwayshaveasoftspotforthatwoman.AndrightnowIneedtokeepaclearhead,notallowanythingtocloudmyjudgment.
“Cooper,haveaseat.”SheriffNixonshakesmyhand,thensettlesbehindhisdeskandgetsrightdowntobusiness.“YourmotherhadabouttengrandincashonherwhentheBatonRougeboysbroughtherin.”
Reliefslamsintomelikeagustofwind.Tengrand.It’sacouplethousandshortofwhatshestole,butit’sbetterthannothing.Hell,it’smorethanIexpected.Shewasgonefourdays.Shelleyismorethancapableofblowingtwelvegrandinthatamountoftime.
“However,itcouldbeawhilebeforeyougetthemoneyback,”Nixonadds.
Ifrownathim.“Why’sthat?”
Hestartsramblingonaboutevidenceproceduresandwhatnot,asmybraintriestokeepupwithalltheinformationhe’sspittingout.Firstthingsfirst,Shelleywillbearraignedinfrontofajudge.MacasksalotofquestionsbecauseI’mkindofinastuporaboutthewholethingnow.AllIkeepthinkingaboutisShelleyinanorangejumpsuit,herwristsshackled.Idespiseeverythingthatwoman’severdonetous,butthethoughtofherbehindbarsdoesn’tsitright.Whatkindofsonsendshisownmothertojail?
“She’sherenow?”IaskNixon.
“Inholding,yes.”Herubsahandoverhisthickmustache,lookingeveryinchthepartofasmall-townsheriff.He’snewtotown,soIdoubtheknowsmuchaboutmeandmyfamily.Hispredecessor,SheriffStone,hatedourguts.SpenthisafternoonstailingEvanandmearoundtheBayallsummer,lookingforareasontoglareatusfromhisunmarkedcruiser.
“WhatwouldhappenifIchangedmymind?”
Besideme,Maclooksstartled.
“Youwanttowithdrawthecharges?”hesays,eyeingmeclosely.
Ihesitate.“WillIgetmymoneybacktoday?”
“There’dbenoreasontoholditinevidence.So,yes.”
WhichisallIwantedinthefirstplace.
“Whatwouldhappentoherafterthat?”
“It’syourprerogativeasthevictim.Ifyou’renotinterestedinprosecuting,she’llbereleased.Mrs.HartleywasonlyheldinLouisianaattherequestofthisdepartment.Whateverfinesshefacesthereareaseparatematter.Wearen’tawareofanotherwarrantforheratthistime.”
IglanceatMac,knowingitisn’tadecisionshewouldmakeformeonewayortheother,butwantingtheconfirmationthatI’mdoingtherightthing.Iguessinthissituation,it’salldegreesofshittyeitherway.
Shestudiesmyface,thenoffersaslightnod.“Dowhatyoufeelisright,”shemurmurs.
Ishiftmygazebacktothesheriff.“Yeah,Iwanttodropthecharges.Let’sgetthisoverwith.”
Itstilltakesaboutanhourtosignthepaperworkandwaitaroundforanofficertoappearwithaplasticbagofmycash.Hecountsouteverybill,thenhasmesignsomemorepapers.AnotherhugewaveofreliefhitsmewhenIhandMacthecashtostuffinherpurse.TheverynextthingI’mdoingissuckingitupanddepositingthemoneyinthebank,thetaxmanbedamned.
Outside,Evan’swaitingforusbythetruck.“Allgood?”hesays.
Inod.“Allgood.”
We’reabouttoleavewhenShelleywalksoutofthebuildingrubbingherwrists.
Shit.
Shelightsupacigarette.Assheexhales,hergazelandsonus,catchingourattemptedescape.
“I’llgetridofher,”Macoffers,squeezingmyhand.
“It’sfine,”Isay.“Waitinthetruck.”
IntypicalShelleyfashion,mymotherstridesoverwithacheerfulsmile.“Well,whataday,huh?Someonesurescrewedup,didn’tthey?Idon’tknowwheretheygottheirwirescrossed.Itoldthem,Isaid,callmyboys.They’lltellyouIdidn’ttakeanythingthatdidn’tbelongtome.”
“Jesus,giveitarest,wouldyou?”Isnap.
Sheblinks.“Baby—”
“No,don’tbabyme.”Ican’ttakeanothersecondofherbullshit,hersmileyevasions.I’vebeenchokingonthemsinceIwasfive,andI’mfuckingfull.“Youfoundmystashandstolefromme,andthat’swhyyouskippedtown.Hopeitwasworthit.”Istareather.“Mom.”
“Baby,no.”Shereachesformyarm.Itakeastepback.“Iwasonlyborrowingalittletogetsetup.IwasgoingtosenditrightbackafterIgotonmyfeet.Youknowthat.Ididn’tthinkyou’dmind,right?”
Amazedlaughtertricklesoutofmymouth.“Sure.Whatever.Idon’twanttohearitanymore.Thisisthelasttimewe’regonnadothis.Idon’twanttoseeyouanymore.FarasI’mconcerned,youdon’teverneedtocomebackhere.Youhavenosons,Shelley.”
Sheflinches.“Now,Cooper,Igetyou’reupset,butI’mstillyourmother.You’restillmyboys.Youdon’tturnyourbackonfamily.”ShelooksatEvan,whohasremainedsilent,lingeringbehindme.“Right,baby?”
“Notthistime,”hesays,gazingoffatthepassingtraffic.Emphatic.Stoic.“I’mwithCoop.Ithinkit’sbetterifyoudidn’tcomearoundanymore.”
Ifighttheurgetothrowmyarmaroundmybrother.Nothere.Notinfrontofher.ButIknowthepainhe’sfeeling.Theloneliness.Evanlosthismomtoday.
Ilostminealongtimeago.
Shelleymakesonelastattempttogetusinlineuntilsherealizeswearen’tbudging.Thentheactfallsapart.Hersmilerecedestoflatindifference.Hereyesgrowdullandmean.Voicebitter.Intheend,shehaslittleinthewayofpartingwords.Barelyaglanceassheblowssmokeinourfacesandwalkstoawaitingcabthatcarriesherofftobesomeoneelse’sproblem.We’reallbetterforit.
Evenifitdoesn’tfeelthatwayrightnow.
Later,asMacordersusapizzafordinner,EvanandItakeDaisyforawalk.Wedon’ttalkaboutShelley.Hell,wedon’ttalkmuchatall.We’reinsomberspirits.Eachofusislostinourownthoughts,andyetIknowwe’rethinkingtheexactsamethings.
Whenwereturntothehouse,wefindLevionthebackdeck,sippingabeer.“Hey,”hecallsatourapproach.“Icamebytoseehowitwentatthepolicestation.”
Evanheadsinsidetograbtwobeersforus,whileIstandattherailingandfillourunclein.WhenIreachthepartwhereShelleydisappearedinataxiwithoutsomuchasagoodbye,Levinodsingrimsatisfaction.
“Thinkshegotthemessagethistime?”heasks.
“Maybe?Shelookedprettydefeated.”
“Can’tsayI’msorryforher.”LevinevergotalongwithShelley,evenwhenshewasaround.Idon’tblamehim.Theonlyredeemingqualityabouteitherofmyparentswasgivingusadecentuncle.
“We’reorphansnow,”Evanremarks,staringatthewaves.
“Shit,guys,Iknowthisain’teasy.Butyou’renotaloneinthis.Ifyoueverneedanything…”
Hetrailsoff.Buthedoesn’tneedtofinishthesentence.Levi’striedhisdamnedesttomakeusfeellikeafamilydespiteallthemissingpieces,andhe’sdoneaprettygoodjobconsideringwhathehadtoworkwith.
“Hey,Iknowwedon’tsayitenough,”Itellouruncle,“butwe’reonlystandingherebecauseyouwerethereforus.Youalwaysare.Ifitweren’tforyou,wewould’veendedupinthesystem.Shippedofftofostercare.Probablyseparated.”
“Weloveyou,”Evanadds,hisvoicelinedwithemotion.
ItgetsLevialittlechokedup.Hecoughs,hiswayofcoveringitup.“You’regoodboys,”ishisgruffresponse.He’snotamanofsentimentormanywords.Still,weknowhowhefeelsaboutus.
Maybewenevergotthefamilywedeserved,butweendedupwiththeoneweneeded.CHAPTERFORTY
MACKENZIE
He’sbeingutterlyunreasonable.
“Yousaidyouweregoingtopickupiceonyourwayhome,”Ishoutfromthebackyard,whereI’mstandingwithsixcoolersofwarmbeerandsoda.
WithFebruarycameasuddenferociouswinter,sowhileI’mfreezingmybuttoffouthere,thedrinksarestillhottothetouchbecauseEvanleftthecasessittingtooclosetothefirepit.Nowhe’stakingaloadoff,andI’mlefttowrestlewithafoldingtablethatisrefusingtobudgeasItrypryingthelegsopen.Thesefoldingtablesmust’vebeendesignedbyasadist,becauseIcannotforthelifeofmegetthemopen.
“Thefreezerattheliquorstorewasbroken,”Cooperrespondsfromthedeck.“Heidisaidshe’sgoingtoswingbyPublixonthewayhereandgetsome.”
“Butthedrinkswon’thavetimetochillbeforeeveryoneelsearrives.That’sthewholereasonIsentyououtearly!”I’mabouttoripmydamnhairout.ThisisthethirdtimeI’vetriedexplainingthistohim,andstillit’slikearguingwithanornerysandcrab.
“Iwouldhavestopped,butitwasoutofthewayandIwantedtogethometohelpsetup.You’dratherIleftyouheretodoeverythingbyyourself?”heshoutsback,throwinghishandsup.
“Iwasheretohelpher,”Evansaysfromhischair.Wherehe’sbeensittingonhisassdrinkingthelastcoldbeer,insteadofhelpingmesetup.“She’sgotapoint,Coop,”headds,noddinggraciouslyatme,asiftosaySee,I’monyourside
“Stayoutofit,”Coopertellshim.
Iglareatthemboth.
Therehavegottobefewworsehellsthansharingabirthdayonedayapartwithacoupleofbarelyhousetrainedtwins.Lastnight,theyhadthisbrilliantideatothrowamassivelast-minutepartyinsteadofthedinnerIwasplanning,sonowwe’rerushingtoputsomethingtogether,exceptEvanislazyandCooperhasallthelogisticalabilitiesofaherring.
“Forgetit.”Ididn’tevenwantthisstupidparty,buttheyinsistedthatsinceit’smytwenty-first,wehadtogobig.So,ofcourse,I’mstuckdoingmostofthework.“I’llgogetthefoodfromoneendoftown,thecakefromtheother,thendoublebackforiceandtrytomakeitbackbeforedark.Wishmeluck.”
Cooperletsoutanexasperatedgroan.“I’llcallHeidiandaskhertocomesooner.Okay?Happy?”
Ikickoverthefoldingtable,becausefuckit,andrushupthestepstowardtheslidingdoor,whichiscurrentlybeingblockedbyCooper.“Don’tbother.Formybirthday,allIreallywantisonelessminuteofhersnidecommentsandsneeringlooks.Isthattoomuchtoask?”
“I’vetalkedtoher,okay?Ican’tcontrolhowsheacts.Justgiveittime.She’llgetoverit.”
“Youknow,I’mnotevenmadatHeidi.IfI’dbeenledonforanentiresummer,I’dbeprettycrankytoo.”
“That’snotwhathappened,”hegrowls.
“It’swhatshethinks,andthat’sallthatmatters.Maybethat’sthetalkyoushouldbehaving.”
“Fuck,Mac.Couldyougetoffmycasefortenminutes?”
“Heydumbass,”Evanyellsfromtheyard.“She’sright.”
CooperflipshisbrotheroffandfollowsmeintothehouseasIhurrytograbmypurseandfindhiskeys.Notseeingtheminthekitchenorlivingroom,Imakemywaytohisbedroom.Hetrailsafterme,lookingasfrazzledasIfeel
“Youknowwhat?”Iturntolookathim.“Idon’tthinkthisisworkinganymore.”
Ourbickeringisdraining.Andannoying,becauseit’susuallyaboutstupidstuff.Wediginandrefusetorelentuntilweexhaustallourenergyfightingandforgetwhatstartedtheargumentinthefirstplace.
“Whatthehelldoesthatmean?”HesnatcheshiskeysfromhisdresserbeforeIcanreachforthem.
Igritmyteeth,thenletoutaharriedbreath.“Crashingherewassupposedtobeatemporarything.Andseeingashowwe’reconstantlyateachother’sthroats,I’veclearlyoverstayedmywelcome.”
Likeagustofwindknockshimsideways,Cooperdeflates.Heplacesthekeysinmyupturnedhand.Whenhespeaks,hisvoiceisgentle.
“That’snotwhatIwant.Ifyou’rereadytogetyourownplace,Iunderstand.Butdon’tthinkyouhavetomoveoutforme.Ilikehavingyouhere.”
“Yousure?”I’venoticedcomplaintsaboutmyinvasionofhisspacehavegrownexponentiallysinceIshackeduphere.“I’dratheryoutellmethetruth.NotwhatyouthinkIwanttohear.”
“Iswear.”
Hisgazelockswithmine.Isearchhisface,andhesearchesmine,andsomethingpassesbetweenus.It’swhatalwayshappens.Whenallourangerandfrustrationsubsides,whenthestormpassesandInoticehimagain.Thewayhistattooscarvealongthemusclesofhisarms.Thebroadplaneofhischest.Thewayhealwayssmellsofshampooandsawdust.
Cooperplaceshishandsonmyhips.Lookingdownatmewithheavy-liddedeyes,hewalksmebackwardandcloseshisbedroomdoortopressmeagainstit.
“Ilikehavingyouclose,”hesaysroughly.“Goingtobedwithyou.Wakinguptoyou.Makinglovetoyou.”
Hishandscapturethehemofmydressandmoveupward,pullingthefabricupwithhimuntilI’mexposedfromthewaistdown.MypulsethrumssoferventlyinmyneckIcanfeelthefranticlittlethumps.I’vebeenconditionedtohim.Hetouchesmeandmybodysquirmsinanticipation.
“I’mnotcrampingyourstyle?”Itease.Mypalmssplayagainstthedoor,fingersdiggingintothegrooves.
Hisanswerisadismissiveflickingofhiseyes.Hestepscloseruntilonlyasliverofairstandsbetweenus.Then,lickinghislips,hesays,“Tellmetokissyou.”
Mybraindoesn’thavearesponseforthat,buteverythingclenchesandmytoesgrabatthefloor.
Hepresseshisforeheadtomine,grippingmyribs.“Ifwe’redonefighting,tellmetokissyou.”
Ihatefightingwithhim.Butthis.Themakingup.Well,it’stheundilutedsyrupatthebottomofthechocolatemilk.Myfavoritepart.
“Kissme,”Iwhisper.
Hislipsbrushmineinafeatherlightcaress.Thenhepullsbackslightly.“This…”hemutters,hisbreathticklingmynose.
Hedoesn’tfinishthatsentence.Buthedoesn’thaveto.Iknowexactlywhathemeans.This.
Just…this
Asitturnsout,Iownatdrinkinggames.Infact,themoreIdrink,thebetterIget.I’dneverplayedflipcupbeforetonight,butafteracouplerounds,Icouldn’tlose.Onechallengerafteranotherleftslayedatmyfeet.Afterthat,Idestroyedthreebeerpongopponents,thenmanagedtoembarrassthehelloutofsomedudewithnecktattoosatthedartboard.Apparently,onceI’veconsumedabottleofwine,Ican’tnothitabull’seye.
Now,I’mstandingbythefire,listeningtoTatelayoutsomethoughtexperimentthat’shurtingmytipsybrain.
“Wait.Idon’tgetit.Ifthereareboatscomingtotheisland,whycan’tIgetononeandsailhometosafety?”
“Becausethat’snotthepoint!”Tate’sblueeyesconveypureexasperation.
“ButI’veessentiallybeenrescued,”Iargue.“Sowhycan’tIgetonaboat?I’dwayratherdothatthanpickbetweenCooperandabunchofsupplieswithouthavingaccesstoeitherboat.”
“Butthat’stheactualdilemma!Nothowyou’regoingtogetofftheisland.Youhavetochoose.”
“Ichoosetheboats!”
Tatelookslikehewantstomurderme,whichisconfusing,becauseIthinktheanswertothisdesertedislandthingisstupidlysimple.
“Youknowwhat?”Heletsoutabreath,thengrins,hisdimplesmakinganappearance.“You’reluckyyou’recute,Mac.Becauseyousuckatthoughtexperiments.”
“Aww.”Ipathisarm.“You’recutetoo,Tater-Tot.”
“Ihateyou,”hesighs.
Nah,hedoesn’t.It’stakentime,butIthinkI’vefinallysettledintomyplaceinCooper’slife.Nolongerthesquarepeg.Notjusthislife—ours.
“I’mcold,”Iannounce.
“Seriously?”Tatepointstotheragingbonfireinfrontofus.
“Justbecausethere’safiredoesn’tmeanit’snotFebruary,”Isaystubbornly.
Ileavehimatthefirepitandmakemywaytowardthehousetogetasweater.JustasIreachthebacksteps,Icatchmynameandturntoanswerbeforerealizingit’sHeiditalkingtosomeoneontheupstairsdeck.Itiltmyheadback.Throughthegapsintheslats,ImakeoutHeidi’sblondeheadandAlana’sredone,alongwiththefacesofafewothergirlsIdon’tknow.I’mabouttoclimbthefirststepwhenHeidi’snextwordsstopme.
“Icanforgiveherforbeingdumb,butshe’ssopainfullyboring,”Heidisays,laughing.“AndCooper’snofunatallanymore.Allhewantstodoispretendthey’remarried.Hehardlyevercomesoutanymore.”
Littlewavesofangerripplethroughme.Thisshit.Everytime.NotoncehaveIstoppedCooperfromhangingoutwithHeidioraskedhimnottoinvitehersomewhere,becauseIcanatleasttolerateherforhissake.Whyshe’ssocommittedtonotgivingmethesamecourtesy,Idon’tunderstand.Instead,it’salwaysdirtylooksandpassive-aggressivebullshit.And,apparently,trash-talkingbehindmyback.
“Istilldon’tknowhowsheboughtCooperactinglikehenevermetthatguy.”Heidilaughsagain,smugnow.“Imean,wakeupandsmelltheconspiracy,right?”
Wait,what?
IsshetalkingaboutPreston?
“I’dfeelsorryforherifshewasn’tsogullible.”
ScrewHeidi.Shedoesn’tknowwhatshe’stalkingabout.Still,I’dratherknowwhatotherbileshe’sbeenspewingbehindmyback,soIhugtheshadowsasIcreepupthesteps,keepingbodiesbetweenmyselfandHeidi,hidingamongtheotherpeoplelingeringonthestairstalking.
“Okay,butit’sbeenlongenough,”anothergirlsays.“Hemustbeintoher,don’tyouthink?”
“Whatdoesitmatter?”Heidioffersthatdismissiveshrugshedoes.“Eventuallyshe’sgottofigureouthe’sbeenlyingtoherfromthestart.Thatheonlygotwithherasameansforrevenge.”
“Leavethemalone,”Alanasays.“Youpromisedtoletitgo.”
Istopdead.DidIhearherright?Becausethatsoundedsuspiciouslylikeconfirmation.
Whatelsecoulditmean?
“What?”There’sacoynoteinHeidi’stone.
I’mbarelythreefeetawaynow.SocloseI’mshaking.
“Ididn’tsayIwasgoingtotellher.Notonpurpose,anyway.”
Myheartthumpserraticallyagainstmyribs.Alanaisstandingrightthere,mouthshut.NotdisputingHeidi’sversionofevents.
Whichmeans,ifI’vereaditright,Cooperhasbeenlyingtomesincethemomentwemet.
Worse,heliedwhenIconfrontedhimdirectly.Heliedtomyface.Andhemadeallhisfriends—ourfriends,Ithought—goalongwiththelies.Evan.Steph.Alana.
Ifeelsmall,likeIcouldfallrightthroughthespacebetweenthedeckboards.Utterlyhumiliated.Whoelseknewaboutit?Havetheyallbeenlaughingatmebehindmybackthisentiretime?Poor,dumbclone.
“Goon,then,”Isay,chargingforwardtoconfrontthegroup.“Don’twaitforwordtogetaround,forsomethingtoslip—whydon’tyoutellmetomyface,Heidi?”
Alanahasthedecencytolookcontrite.Heidi,however,doesn’tevenpretendtohidehersmirk.
Seriously,thisgirlmakesmewanttoboob-punchher.I’vetriedwithher.Ireallyhave.Makeconversation.Becivil.Givehertime.ButnomatterhowmuchorhowlittleIgive,she’sflatlyrefusedtobudgefromhertotalcontempt.NowIunderstandwhy—sheandIweren’tinanuneasytruce,butacoldwartowhichIwasoblivious.Thatwasmymistake.
“Igetit,youhatemyguts,”Isaytestily.“Findanewhobby.”
Shenarrowshereyes.
Idismissherfrommygaze,turningtoAlanainstead.“Isittrue?Thiswassomesortofrevengeplanagainstmyex?Cooperlied?”
Sayingitoutloudmakesmequeasy.AllthealcoholIconsumedtonightchurnsdangerouslyinmybellyasIreplaytheeventsofthelastsixmonths.MymemoryflipsthroughadozenearlyconversationswithCooper,wonderingwhatobviouscluesIignored.Howmanytimeswastheanswerrightinfrontofme,butIwastooenamoredofhisfathomlesseyesandcrookedsmile?
Everenigmatic,Alanarevealsnoemotion.Onlyhesitation.Ithoughtwe’dgrownclose,gottenpasttheroughpatchestoactuallybecomefriends.Yetheresheis,silent,herexpressionshuttered,whileHeidimakesmethebuttofherjokes.GuessIreallyamdumb.Theyallhadmefooled.
“Alana,”Ipress,almostcringingatthehelplessnessIhearinmyvoice.
Afteraninterminablylongpause,heraloofexpressionslips,justenoughformetoglimpseaflickerofregret.
“Yes,”sheadmits.“It’strue.Cooperlied.”CHAPTERFORTY-ONE
COOPER
IcatchaglimpseofMacthroughtheflamesofthebonfire,aglowingfleetingglimpse,beforeawaveofbeersmacksmeintheface.
“Asshole.”
Confusionjoltsthroughme.Staggeringbackwardfromthefirepit,Iwipemyeyeswithsandyfingers.Iblinkafewtimes,usingmyforearmtomopbeeroffmyface.Iblinkagain,andMacisdirectlyinfrontofme,holdinganemptyredcupinherhand.Asourfriendsallstandtherestaringatus,Istruggletounderstandwhatthehellishappening
“Lyingasshole,”sherepeatswithseethingferocity.
Evantriestoapproachher.“Whoa,whatwasthatfor?”
“No.Fuckyoutoo.”Shepointsawarningfingerathim.“Youliedtome.Bothofyou.”
Beyondherslendershoulder,IspotAlanaweavingherwaythroughthecrowd,trailedbyHeidi.Alanalooksguilty.Heidi’sexpressionisoneofpureapathy.
Mac’sexpression?Sheerbetrayal.
AndnowIgetit.Readingherface,IfeellikeI’mfalling.It’slikethatsecondwhenourbrainsjerkinsideourskullsandweexperienceafrozenmomentofterrorbeforethedescent,becauseweknow:Thisisgoingtohurt.There’snothingtograbontonow.She’sgotmedeadtorights.
“Mac,letmeexplain,”Istarthoarsely.
“Youusedme,”sheshouts.
Herarmthrustsforwardandtheemptycupbouncesoffmychest.Astunnedaudiencestandssilent,retreatingtotheoppositesideofthepit.
“Itwasallaboutrevengethiswholetime.”Sheshakesherheadrepeatedly,theemotionsinhereyesrunningthegamutfromembarrassedtoincensedtodisappointed.
IthinkaboutthefirstnightIapproachedher,howirritatedIwasathavingtofeigninterestinsomestuck-upclone.Howshesnuckuponmewithhersmileandwit.
Whatthehelldidsheeverseeinmetomakeitthisfar?
“Itstartedthatway,”Iadmit.I’vegotseconds,maybe,togetthisoutbeforesherunsoffandneverspeakstomeagain,soIdropthebullshitandlayitallonthetable.“Yes,IfoundyoubecauseIwantedtogetbackathim.Iwasstupidandpissedoff.AndthenImetyouanditblewupmywholelife,Mac.Ifellforyou.It’sbeenthebestsixmonthsofmylife.”
Someofthehardestmonthstoo.Allofwhichshe’senduredwithme.Despiteme.I’vethrownmoreshitatthisgirlthanshehadanyreasontowithstand,andstillshefoundherwaytolovemeregardless.OfcourseIwasgonnamessthatup.HowcouldIeverthinkotherwise?
Butholyfuckingshit,ithurtsworsethanIevercould’veimagined,thethoughtoflosingMackenzie.Myheartfeelslikeit’sbeingcrushedinavise.
“And,yeah,Ishouldhavecomecleanalongtimeago.Butgoddamnit,okay,Iwasscared.”Mythroatstartsclosinginonme,cuttingoffmyairway.Isuckinaraggedbreath.“Iwasscaredofthismomentrighthere.Imadeaterriblemistake,andIthoughtifyoudidn’tfindout,itwouldn’thurtyou.Iwantedtoprotectyou.”
“Youhumiliatedme,”shespitsoutthroughtearsandrage.Iwanttothrowmyarmsaroundherandtakeherpainaway,butI’mtheonedoingthistoher,andeverysecondshelevelsmewiththatlookofdevastationripsmeapart.“Youmademelooklikeanidiot.”
“Please,Mac.I’lldoanything.”Igrabherhands,squeezingwhenshetriestoturnaway.BecauseIknowthesecondshetakesthatfirststep,she’sgonnakeepwalkingforever.“Iloveyou.Letmeproveit.Givemeachance.”
“Youhadachance.”Tearsstreamdownhercheeks.“Youcouldhavetoldmethetruthmonthsago.Youhadamillionopportunities,includingthedayIaskedyoupoint-blankifyouknewPreston,ifhegotyoufired.Butyoudidn’ttellmethetruth.Insteadyouleteveryonelaughatmebehindmyback.”Macpullsherhandsfromminetowipehereyes.“Imighthavebeenabletoforgiveyouforeverythingelseifyouhadn’tliedrighttomyface.Gottohandittoyou,Cooper.Youdiditsowell.AndthenyougoteveryoneIthoughtwasmyfriendtolietoo.Putmeinthisperfectlittleglasshouseofbullshitforyourownamusement.”
“Mackenzie.”I’mgraspingataropeasit’sslidingthroughmyfingers.WitheverybreathItake,she’sslippingfurtheraway.“Letmefixit.”
“There’snothinglefttofix.”Herexpressionflattenstoaneeriedullness.“I’mgoingintothehouseandI’mpackingupmystuffandI’mleaving.Becausethat’stheonlythingleftformetodo.Don’ttrytostopme.”
Thensheturnsherbackanddisappearsbeyondtheglowofthefire.
There’ssilenceinherwake.
“Forgetwhatshesaid,”Evanblurtsout,shovingmyshoulder.“Goafterher.”
Istareoutatnothingness.“Shedoesn’twantmeto.”
IknowMacwellenoughtoseewhenshe’smadeuphermind.AnythingIdonowwillonlychaseherofffaster,hardeningthehatred.Becauseshe’sright.IwasashitpersonwhenImether.
NothingI’vedonesincehasprovendifferent.
“ThenI’llgo,”Evangrowls,throwingoffmyattempttostophim.
Whatever.Hewon’tsucceedinchanginghermind.She’sleaving.
She’sgone.
EveryoneelseslowlywandersawayuntilI’mleftaloneonthebeach.Isinkdowntothesand.IsitthereforIdon’tknowhowlong—solongthebonfireisreducedtocoldembers.Evandoesn’treturn.NopointtellingmewhatIalreadyknow.ThesunpeeksabovethewavesbythetimeItrudgebacktothehousethroughtheremnantsoftheabortedparty.
Daisydoesn’tcomerunningtobeletoutwhenIwalkinside.Herwaterbowlisn’tinthekitchen.
Halftheclosetisemptyinmyroom.
Ithrowmyselfonthebedandstareupattheceiling.Ifeelnumb.Empty.
IwishI’dknownthenhowharditwouldbenowtomissMackenzieCabot.CHAPTERFORTY-TWO
MACKENZIE
IlivedmywholelifewithoutCooperHartley.Then,sixmonthstogetherandI’veforgottenwhatitwasnottoknowhim.Sixmonths,andonlyminutestoshredittohell.
Oneoverheardconversation.
Asingledevastatingadmission.
Quickasblowingoutamatch,myheartwentnumb.
AfterleavingCooper’shouseinadespondenthaze,IsatinthebackofacabwithDaisyandpaidtheguytodrivethroughtownfornearlytwohours.Atsomepoint,thecabdroppedmeoffatTallyHall.IshowedupatBonnie’sdoorwithmybaginonehandandDaisy’sleashintheother,andwithasympatheticpout,shewelcomedushome.Luckyforme,hernewroommatesleepsoutmostnights.Lesslucky,themomentpeoplestartedgettingupforclassandtrudgingthroughthehallsinthemorning,Daisybeganbarkingattheunfamiliarfoottraffic.Inaninstant,theresidentadvisorwasonus,demandingthatwevacate.
ForBonnie’ssake,Itoldhimwe’donlypoppedinforafewminutestosayhello,thoughI’mnotsureheboughtit.Bytheafternoon,DaisyandIwereinthebackseatofanothercab,searchingforaplanB.Turnsoutthereisn’tahotelintheBaythatallowspets.Somethingaboutadogshowyearsbackthatwenthorriblyawry.
Sothat’showIfindmyselfatStephandAlana’shouse.Daisy,thelittletraitor,hopsrightontothecouchandintoSteph’slap.I’mabitmorereluctantasIsitdownnexttoSteph,whileAlanapleadstheircase.They’dsentadozenorsotextmessagesafterI’dstormedoutoftheparty.Itwasn’tsomuchthecontentbutthepersistencethatconvincedmeoftheirsincerity.
“Inourdefense,”Alanasays,standingwithherarmscrossed,“wedidn’tknowyou’dendupbeingcool.”
Ihavetohandittoher,she’sunapologeticallyherself.Eveninadmittingthatshehadnosmallpartincraftingtherevengeplot,shedoesn’thaveitinhertomincewords.
“Forreal,though,”shecontinues.“BythetimeCoopertoldusyoutwowerereallyathing,itseemedmeanertotellyouthetruth.”
“No,”Isaysimply.“Itwasmeanertolie.”
Becausewhilethetruthhurtsyou,theliedegradesyou.WhenIrealizedPrestonhadsleptaroundonme,IunderstoodwhatitwastobeThatGirl.Foryears,ourfriendshadsmiledinmyface,knowingallalongIwashispatsy,whileIremainedoblivioustohis“extracurriculars”—hisparadeofMarilyns.ItneveroccurredtomethatCooperwouldturnaroundandlietomeaswell.Orthat,yetagain,thepeopleIcalledfriendswouldplayaccomplicestomyignorance.Somelessonswehavetolearntwice.
Nevertheless,I’mnotentirelywithoutmercy.Themathematicsofloyaltyaretricky,afterall.TheywereCooper’sfriendsfirst.Ican’tnotfactorthatintotheequation.Itwouldbewellwithinmyrightstohatethembothfortheirpartinthischarade,butIalsoseewheretheygotcaughtinthemiddle.Theyshouldhavetoldmethetruth,yes.ItwasCooper,though,whosworethemtosecrecy.Itwashisasstheywerecovering.
Ifanyonedeservesthebruntoftheblame,it’shim.
“Wefeelawfulaboutit,”Stephsays.“Itwasacrappythingtodotosomeone.”
“Yep,”Iagree.
“We’resorry,Mac.I’msorry.”Tentative,shereachesovertosqueezemyarm.“Andifyouneedaplacetocrash,you’rewelcometostayinourspareroom,okay?Notjustbecauseweoweyou,butbecauseyoureallyarecool,andI,we”—sheglancesatAlana—“consideryouagoodfriend.”
Despitetheawkwardimplications,stayinghereisthemostattractiveoptionuntilIfindamorepermanentsolution.Besides,Daisyalreadyseemsquiteathome.
“Andwewon’tdiscussCooperunlessyouwantto,”Alanapromises.“Althoughforwhatit’sworth,he’sprettytornupabouteverything.Evansayshesatonthebeachallnightinthecold,juststaringatthebay.”
“AmIsupposedtofeelsorryforhim?”Iaskwitharaisedbrow.
Stephlaughsawkwardly.“Well,no,andwe’renotsayingyoudon’tdeservetobepissed.I’dhavecompletesympathyifyouwantedtotorchhistruck.”
“Thewholerevengeplanwasjuvenilebullshit,”addsAlana.“Buthewasn’tfakinglikingyou.Wetoldhimhewasn’tallowedtopretendtofallforyou,sothatpartwascompletelyreal.”
“Andheissorry,”Stephsays.“Heknowshemessedup.”
Iwaitafewseconds,butitseemsthey’vewrappeduptheirpitch.Good.Nowwecansetsomeboundaries.
“Igetthatyoutwoarestuckinthemiddleofthisandthatsucks,”Itellthegirls.“Sohowaboutwesetahouserule:Iwon’tgetweirdeverytimesomeonementionshisnameorbitchabouthiminfrontofyou,andyouguysagreenottocampaignforhim.Deal?”
Stephgivesmeasadsmile.“Deal.”
Thatnight,Iallowmyselftocryaloneinthedark.Tofeelthepainandanger.Letitripmeopen.AndthenIputitaway,buryitdeep.IwakeupinthemorningandIremindmyselfthatthere’salotmoretomylifethanCooperHartley.Forthelastyear,I’vecomplainedaboutallthethingskeepingmefromconcentratingonmybusiness.Well,there’snothingstoppingmenow.I’vegottimeinthedayandmorethanenoughworkbetweenmywebsitesandthehoteltofillit.Timetowipeupmysmudgedmascaraandbeabadbitch.
Fucklove.Buildtheempire.CHAPTERFORTY-THREE
COOPER
“Hey,Coop,youinhere?”
“Backhere.”
Heidifindsmeinmyworkshop,whereI’vebeenholedupforthepastsixhours.OrderskeeppouringinfornewfurniturepiecesviathewebsiteMachadsetupforme.She’daskedsomeonewhoworkedonherappstodesignit,andoneofhermarketingpeoplecreatedanadvertisingaccountformyFacebookbusinesspagetoo.Justanotherwayshe’dchangedmylifeforthebetter.TheordersarecomingalmostfasterthanIcanfillthem,soeverysecondI’mnotononeofLevi’sjobsites,I’minherebustingmyasstopushoutnewwork.Can’tsayImindthedistraction.It’seitherkeepmyselfoccupied,orwallowinself-destructivemisery.
Myheadjerksupinaquicknodofgreeting.IhavearawpieceofoakfromafallentreethatI’mchiselingintoachairleg.Therepetitivemotions—long,smoothstrokes—areallthatkeepmesanethesedays.
“Whydoesyourporchlooklikeafuneralhome?”Heidisaysasshehopsonmyworktable.
“Mac.Shekeepssendingmygiftsback.”
Fortwoweeksnow,I’vetriedsendingflowers,baskets.Allkindsofshit.Everyday,theyenduponmyfrontporchinstead.
Initially,Iwassendingthemtothehotel,knowingshewasouttheredailycheckingontheworkLevihasoneofhiscrewsstartingon.ButthenIworeStephdownandshetoldmeMacisstayingwithherandAlana.IthoughtforsureI’datleastgetoneofthemtoacceptdelivery.Nosuchluck.
Theintensitywithwhichthischickrefusestoletmeapologizeisfuckingridiculous.Sheeventookourdog.IstillwakeupinthemiddleofthenightthinkingIhearDaisybarking.I’llrolloverandaskMacifshe’stakenherout,onlytorealizeneitherofthemarethere.
Imissmygirls,damnit.I’mlosingmymind.
“Guessthatanswersthequestionofwhereyoutwostand.”Heididrawsasadfaceinthefineyellowdust.“Notfornothing,butItold—”
“IsweartoGod,Heidi,youfinishthatsentenceandIbetterneverseeyourfacehereagain.”
“Whoa,whatthehell,Coop?”
Iputtoomuchforcebehindthechiselandcrackthewood.Ahugegashopensdownthemiddleofthechairleg.Dammit.Thechiselfliesoutofmyhandandpingsoffthefloorsomewhereacrossthegarage.
“Yougotexactlywhatyouwanted,right,Heidi?Macwon’ttalktome.Andnow,what,you’vecometogloat?Fuckingspareme.”
“YouthinkIdidthistoyou?”
“Iknowyoudid.”
“God,Cooper,youaresuchanass.”Cheeksstainedredwithanger,Heidithrowsahandfulofsawdustinmyface.
“Motherfucker,”Icurse.There’ssawdustinmymouthandupmynose.
Mutteringundermybreath,Idousemyheadwithabottleofwaterandspituptinysplintersontheconcretefloor.MywarygazetracksHeidi’spissedoffmovementsasshestartspacingthegarage.
“Iwarnedyouthiswasabadidea,”shefumes.“Isaiditwascrueltoplaywithsomeonelikethat.Butyoudidn’tlistenbecauseOhthatHeidi,she’sjustjealous.Right?Isn’tthatwhatyouthought?”
Asliverofguiltpricksmychest,because,yeah,it’spreciselywhatIthoughtwhenshe’dprotestedEvan’srevengescheme.
“Well,I’msorryitblewupinyourfaceexactlyhowIknewitwould.”Shejabsherindexfingerintheair.“Don’tputthatonme.”
Ijabmyfingerrightback.“No,youonlymadeMacmiserableeverysecondshewasarounduntilyoufinallygotyourchancetodriveheraway.”
“Shewaseavesdropping.Playstupidgames,winstupidprizes.”
I’msogoddamnoverHeidiandherattitude.Forsixmonths,I’vemademyselfgrinandbearit,butthere’salimit.
“Youmadeitprettyclearyouhatedherfromthesecondwegottogether.Iaskedyou,asafriend,todomethisonefavor.Insteadyoustabbedmeintheback.HonesttoGod,Ithoughtweweretighterthanthat.”
Heidilaunchesforwardandchucksasandingblockatmyhead,whichImanagetocatchbeforeitwallopsmeintheface.“Don’tpullthatloyaltycardnonsenseonme.Allyou’vedonesincethesummerisactlikeI’mtheheartsickpsychowhocan’tgetoffyourdick,butitwasyouwhoshowedupatmydoordrunkandhornyoneday,andthenextyou’retreatingmelikeastalker.”
“Wheredidthiscomefrom?”
“You,jackass.”Heidipacesaroundthetable.Tooclosetomychiselsandmalletsformyliking.“Yes,okay,sorry,Imadetheunforgiveablemistakeofcatchingfeelingsforyou.Fuckingcrucifyme.Idon’trememberyoutellingmeourshitwasover.Idon’trecallaconversationwhereyousaid,Hey,it’sonlysexandwe’recool,right?OnedayI’mgettingthebrush-offandthat’sit.”
Ifalter,forcingmyselftolookbacktolastsummer.Mymemoryisabitfuzzyonthedetails.I’mnotevensurehowweendedupinbedthefirsttime.Can’tsayIrememberhavingameetingabouttheparticularseither.There’dbeennowhatarewetalk.Nodiscussionwherewelaidoutsomegroundrules.Ijust…assumed.
Andthat’swhenIrealize,asIfeelthecolordrainfrommyfaceandguilttwistupmyinsides,thatmaybeIwastheasshole.
“Ididn’trealizethat’showyoufelt,”Iadmit,keepingmydistancebecauseanotherviolentoutburstisnotoutofthequestion.“Ithoughtwewereonthesamepage.Andthen,yeah,IguessIfeltkindofcorneredandtooktheeasywayout.Ididn’twanttomakeitawkward.”
Heidistops.Shesighs,slumpingdownonastool.“Youmademefeellikesomerandomhookup.Like,evenasafriend,Ididn’tmeananythingtoyou.Thatreallyhurt,Coop.ThenIwassomadatyou.”
Fuck.Heidi’salwayshadmyback.IwassoupmyownassIdidn’tthinkforasecondhowIdidherwrong.
“Comehere,”Isaygruffly,holdingoutmyarms.
Afterasecond,shecomesforwardandletsmehugher.Thoughshedoesslugmeintheribsbeforewrappingherarmsbehindmyback.
“I’msorry,”Itellher.“Ididn’tmeantohurtyou.IfI’dseensomeoneelsetreatyouthatway,I’dhavebeatenhimsenseless.Itwasn’tcoolatall.”
Shepeersupatme,andthere’smoistureclingingtoherlashes.Shehastilywipeshereyes.“IguessI’msorrytoo.Ishouldhaveputonmybiggirlpantsandcutyourbrakelineslikeanadultinsteadoftakingitoutonyourgirlfriend.”
Ah,fuckingHeidi.Nevercantellwiththisone.Iwouldn’tforasecondputitpasther.
Igiveheranothersqueezebeforereleasingher.“Arewegood?”
Sheshrugs.“Eh.Wewillbe.”
“Ifyouneedmetogrovelsomemore,saytheword.”Iflashaself-deprecatinggrin.“I’vegottendamngoodatgrovelingthesepastcoupleweeks.”
Herlipstwitchwithhumor.“Theflowersonyourporchsayotherwise.Butsure,I’lltakesomegroveling.Youcan’tactlikeafuckboyandexpecttogetawaywithit.”
Iwince.“God.No.Definitelydon’tletmegetawaywithit.”Agroanslipsout.“Ijustrealizedsomething.I’mEvan.IfuckingEvan’dyou.”
Heidistartstolaughuncontrollably,bendingovertoclutchherside.“OhmyGod,youdid,”shehowls.Whensheregainshercomposure,hercheeksareflushedandstainedwithtearsoflaughterratherthanpain.Shegrinsatmeandsays,“Ialmostfeellikethat’spunishmentenough.”
IknowHeidiwellenoughtobesurewe’llworkourstuffout,andit’sespeciallypromisingafterourtalkinthegarage.ThehardermissionrightnowisMac,whosedeterminationtoignoremehassurpassedevenmymostpessimisticestimations.Twoweeksbecomesthree,andthestubbornwomancontinuestoactasifIdon’texist.
I’vetakentotextingherasIgetoffwork,arewardtomyselfformakingitalldaywithoutleavingheradozenvoicemails.Notthatsheeverreplies,butI’mholdingontohopethatonedayshewill.
I’vejusthitsendonmylatestPleasepleasecallmewhenLevisignalsmeandEvanaswe’regettingintomytruckandasksustomeethimdownathislawyer’sofficeonMainStreet.Hementionedsomethingrecentlyaboutamendinghiswill,soIfigureit’saboutthat.Butwhenwegetthere,hedropsabombonus.
Afterwe’reusheredintoasmallconferenceroomandtakeourseats,Levislidesasmallstackofdocumentsacrossthetable.
“Foryouboys,”hesays.
“What’sthis?”Iask.
“Haveaquickread.”
Confused,Iscanthedocuments.MyeyeswidenwhentheylandonthewordsHartley&Sons.“Levi.Whatisthis?”Irepeat.
Evanpullsthepaperstowardhimtotakeabetterlook.
“I’mrestructuringthecompany,”Leviexplains,pushingtwopenstowardus.“And,ifyou’reinterested,Coop,bringingyourfurniturebusinessunderthenewH&Sumbrella.”
“Wait.”Evanpopshisheadupafteracarefulreadingofthecontract.“Youwanttomakeusowners?”
Levinodswithareservedsmile.“Equalpartners.”
“I…”Amlostforwords.Dumbstruck.Ididn’tseethiscomingwhatsoever.“Idon’tunderstand.Whatbroughtthison?”
Leviclearshisthroatandgiveshislawyeralookthatgetstheoldermanpeelingoutofhisbigleatherchairtogiveussomeprivacy.“ThedayShelleylefttownforgood,whenIcamebythehousetocheckonyou,”hestarts.Thenstops,clearinghisthroatagain.“Whatyouboyssaidreallygottome.Aboutbeingallalonenow.Feelinglikeorphans.And,well,ifI’mbeinghonest,Ialwaysthoughtofyoutwoasmysons.”
Levi’sneverbeenmarriedorhadkidsofhisown.Itwasn’tuntilwewereinhighschoolthatEvanandIcaughtonthathisfriendandroommateTimwashisboyfriend.They’vebeentogetheraslongasIcanremember,thoughtheytrynottobeobviousaboutit.TheBaythatLevigrewupinisofanothertime,soIgetit.Hepreferstokeephispersonallifeprivate,andwe’vealwaystriedtorespectthat.
“Ifigured,well,let’smakeitofficial.”Hegulps,shiftingawkwardlyinhischair.“Ifyou’regoodwithit,thatis.”Anothergulp.“Iwanttomakesureyouboyshavealegacyyou’reproudofinthistown.”
AllIcandoisstareathim.Because…wow.Noonehaseverinvestedanythinginusbefore.Growingup,mostpeoplewroteusoffasalostcause.Boundtoenduplikeourparents.Drunks.Deadbeats.Drop-outs.Allwaitingforthedaytheycouldwagtheirfingersandsay,See,Iknewit.ButnotLevi.Maybebecausehe’sfamily,butmostlybecausehe’sadecentguy.Hesawusasworthprotecting.Heknew,ifgivenachance,anounceofhelp,we’dturnoutokay.Alittlefrayed,maybe,butstillinonepiece.
“So,whatdoyousay?”heprompts.
Mybrotherwastesnotimegrabbingoneofthepens.“Hellyes,”hesays,thecrackinhisvoicerevealinghe’sasaffectedbythisasIam.
Ialwaysknewourunclecared,thathe’dneverletusdown,butthisismorethanIeverexpected.It’sarealfuture.Somethingtobuildon.It’sthefeelingthatEvanandIfinallyhavesomefirmfootinginthisworld.Onethingthatisn’tcrumblingaroundourheads.
Evanscribbleshissignatureonthebottomofthepage.Hejumpstohisfeet,meetingLevifirstwithahandshakeandthenaback-slappinghug.“Thanks,UncleLevi,”hesaysinaveryseriousun-Evan-liketone.“Wewon’tletyoudown.Ipromise.”
MyhandshakesslightlyasIaddmyownsignaturetothepage.Igetupandembraceournewbusinesspartner.“Ican’tthankyouenough,”Itellouruncle.“Thismeanssomuchtous.”
“Don’tthankmeyet,”hesayswithasmirk.“You’reownersnow.Thatmeansearlymorningsandlatenights.I’vegotalottoteachyou.”
“Ilookforwardtoit,”Ianswer,andImeaneveryword.
“Good.I’mthinkingfirstthingwedoisgetoneofyouboystoheadupthedemolitioncrewatMackenzie’shotel.FreesmeuptofocusontheSandersonrestaurant.”
Iflinch.Justhearingsomeonesayhernamestirsupaworldofpain.“Yeah.MaybeEvan’llhandlethat.Idon’tthinkMacisreadytohavemearoundonthesiteeveryday.”
Levi’sbrowfurrows.“Youtwoarestillontheouts?”
Inodmiserably.“Shewon’tanswermycallsoracceptmygifts.”
“Gifts?”heechoesinamusement.
Mybrotherspeaksup,takinggreatdelightindescribingtoourunclethefield’sworthofflowersI’dsent,thenumerousheart-shapedchocolateboxes,theoverstuffedbaskets.“Somanybaskets,”Evanstresses.“It’sdisgusting.”
“Andfutile,”Levisaysafteraboutofgentlelaughter.“Boy,you’renotwinningbackagirllikethatwithcandyandflowers.”
“No?”Frustrationjamsinmythroat.“ThenwhatdoIdo?HowdoIgethertotalktome?”
Myuncleclapsahandovermyshoulder.“Easy.Youneedtothinkbigger.”CHAPTERFORTY-FOUR
MACKENZIE
OnmywaybacktoStephandAlana’shousefromthehotel,IstoptograbtakeoutfromtheirfavoriteChinesefoodplace.It’sonlybeenafewweekssinceLevi’sguysstartedworkonrippingoutalltheoldcarpetanddrywall,tossingthedamagedfurnitureandfixturesandanythingtoofargonetosalvage,yettheplaceisalmostunrecognizableontheinside.
Ablankcanvas.
AlreadyI’mrethinkingmuchoftheinteriordesignaesthetic.Istillintendtopreservetheoriginallookasmuchaspossible,butwithaneyetowardediting.Iwanttoopentheplaceupmore,bringtheoutsidein.Brightenitwithnaturallightandgreenery.Reflectasenseofluxuriousrelaxation.Myarchitectisaboutsickofmewithallmyphonecallsandemailstweakingtheplans.I’msureI’llcalmdownoncethenewconstructionbegins.Ijustwantittobeperfect.ThisismylegacyI’mbuilding,afterall.Withanyluck,it’llbestandingforanotherfiftyyears.
IpullintothedrivewayintheusedSUVIpurchasedfromthelocaldealershiplastweek.IfinallycavedandgotacarafterrealizingIcan’tspendtherestofmylifeinthistowninthebackseatsoftaxisandUbers.
I’mkillingtheenginewhenIreceiveatextmessagefrommymother.
Mom:Mackenzie,I’mforwardingyouthenameofmydesigner,aspromised.Ifyouinsistoncontinuingonwiththislittleproject,thenyoumustdoitright.
Mysnickerechoesloudlyinthevehicle.That’stheclosestthingtoastampofapprovalmymotheriscurrentlycapableofproviding.Aftermonthsofplayingthesilenttreatmentgamewithmyparents,IendedupcontactingthemaweekafterImovedoutofCooper’s.Iblameitonmyhighlyemotionalstate.Buthonestly,despitetheiroverbearing,condescendingpersonalities,they’restillmyparents.TheonlyfamilyIhave.SoIbitthebulletandextendedtheolivebranch,andtomysurprise,theyacceptedit.
Afewdaysagotheyevenmadeitouttothehotel—forabouttenminutes.Longenoughformydadtogrimacealotandmymomtogivemeanearfulaboutlinenpatterns.Ican’tsaytheywereentirelyenthusedabouttheproject,buttheymadetheeffortanyway.Asmallsteptowardnormalizingrelations.
Isendbackaquicktext.
Me:Thanks,Mom.I’llgiveheracalltomorrow.
Mom:Ifyouneedanothersetofeyesonceyouentertheinteriordesignphase,contactStaceyandshe’lladdyoutomycalendarifIhavethetime.
Irollmyeyesatthescreen.ClassicAnnabethCabot.ButnothingIcandoaboutthat.
I’mbarelyinthedoorofthehousebeforemyroommatespounceandtearthetakeoutbagsfrommyhands.WesetthetableandstartdigginginwhileStephturnsonhernightlyparanormalinvestigationsmarathononTV.Sixstraighthoursofgrownmeninnightvisiongoggles,runningthroughanabandonedmallandscreamingaboutaratkickingaroundanerrantfoodcourtcuporsomething.Butwhatever.It’sherthing.
“Sowhatwereyousayingaboutsomeshitthathappenedatwork?”Alanasays,pickingalltheporkoutofthelomeinbeforeanyoneelsehasgottentheirhandsonthecarton.
“Oh,right.”Stephtalkswithherchopstickslikeshe’sconductinganorchestra.“SoCaitlynntellsMannythathisexblastedhimonBoyfriendFails.Everyone’sonitnowatthebar,”shetellsmewithagrin.
“How’dtheyknowitwasabouthim?”Alanademands.
“Oh,’causewewerealltherewhentheoriginalincidenthappened.Longstoryshort:Mannymetsomegirlatabarlastmonthandtookherhome.Fewdayslater,heseesheragainandasksherout.They’redatingforafewweekswhenagroupofusareoutbowling,andheapparentlycallsherbythewrongname.Idon’tknowhowhe’dmanagedtogoallthattimenevercallingherbyname,butturnsouthe’dsleptwithheroldersisterthatfirstnight,thenmettheyoungersisterandconfusedthetwo.”
“Ouch.”EverytimeIthinkI’vehearditall,there’sanewtwistonanoldfavorite.
“Anyway,fastforwardtotonight.Caitlynn’sshowingMannytheBoyfriendFailspostwhenthisteenagekidwalksin.Hemarchesrightuptothebar.Andit’sthemiddleofthelunchrushsowe’reprettyslammed.ThekidshoutssomethingatMannyinSpanish,thengrabssomedude’sdrink,splashesitonthebar,andthrowsamatch.”
Igasploudly.“OhmyGod,isheokay?”
Stephwavesawaymyconcern.“Oh,yeah,he’sfine.Joe’sbeenwateringdownthewellsfordecades.”
AndthisiswhyoneofthefirstthingsIdidafterthemoneystartedcominginwasgetalawyertowriteupaliabilitydisclaimerforthewebsite.
“Whenthebardoesn’tignite,he’sfuriousandjumpsoverit,”Stephcontinues.“Kidisn’tmorethanfive-foot-nothingandcan’tbeolderthanfifteen.MustnotbethefirsttimeManny’sbeenchasedbecauseI’dneverseenhimmovesofast.”
Alanasnickers.
“Heducksoutfrombehindthebarandhaulsass.Thekid’sdivingovertables.TakesaswingathimwithachairuntilDarylpickshimupandtosseshimoutside.Darylhastobarricadethedoorsuntilthekidfinallygivesupandleaves.Mannysneaksouttheback.”Stephstartscrackingup.“Turnsoutitwasthosegirls’littlebrothercometobeatManny’sass.Itwasadorable.”
“Youknow,”Isay,tryingnottochokeonmyfood,“goodforthekid.”
“Right?”
IswallowmylemonchickenandreachforacanofDietCoke.“Speakingofbitterexes,IranintoPrestontodaywhenIwashavinglunchwithBonnieoncampus.”
Stephliftsabrow.“How’dthatgo?”
“Notterrible,”Iadmit.“Hewaswithhisnewgirlfriend.Cute,typicalGarnetgirlwhosefatherissomehedgefundguyandmotherisanheirtoanelectricfanfortuneorsomething.They’vebeentogetherforacouplemonthsnow.”
Alanamakesaface.“Poorgirl.”
Ishrug.“Idon’tknow,farasIcantell,sheworshipsPreston.Whichisallhereallywants,Iguess.Someonetosmileandthankhimformakingthedecisions.”Ipopanotherpieceofchickenintomymouth,talkingwhilechewing.“Ifitmakesthembothhappy,thenwhoamItojudge?”
“Oh,hey,didyouseethis?”Alanashovesthelastbiteofaneggrollinhermouth,thenwipesducksaucefromherfingersbeforehandingmeherphone.“Fromtoday.”
IglanceatthescreentofindanewpostfromBoyfriendFails.Exceptitstartswithacaveat.Thisisn’tfromadisgruntledgirlfriendanonymouslyblastingherex—it’sfromtheboyfriendconfessinghismisdeedstotheworld.
I’mthe#BoyfriendFail
Youreadthetitleright.I’mtheboyfriendfail.Asin,Ifailed.Big-time.IfailedthewomanIlove,Ifailedourrelationship,andIfailedmyself.
IraisemyheadtoshootasuspiciouslookatAlana.Shepretendstobeoverlyfocusedonherfood.
Imessedupthebestthingthateverhappenedtome.LetmyperfectgirlslipthroughmyfingersbecauseIwasaselfishasshole.ThenightImether,Ihadrevengeonthebrain.Ihadabeefwithherboyfriend.Iwantedtopunishhimforgettingmefired,forstirringupallmyinsecuritiesaboutbeingalosertownie,beingstuckherewithoutprospectsforanythingbetter.Anythingmore.
ButthenIgottoknowher,andsomethinghappened.Sheinspiredme.Sheshowedmethere’smoretomethanthisanchoraroundmyneckweighingmedown.ShemademebelieveI’mcapableofgreatness.
Shewasright.Butalsowrong.BecauseIdon’twantgreatness,Idon’twantabrightsunnyfuture—ifshe’snotbymysidetoenjoyit.
ApitgrowsinmystomachasIreadon.It’ssweetandsincere.Myfingersgonumbandmyeyessting.
Shedoesn’towemeasecondchance,Iknowthat.Shedoesn’towemeanything.ButI’mstillgoingtoask.
Givemeasecondchance,princess.Andifyoudo,Ipromiseyouthis—Iwillneverlietoyouagain.Iwillnevertakeyouforgranted.Iwillnever,fortherestofmylife,forgetthegoddamntreasureyouare.
Ialmostcan’tseebythetimeIfinishreading,myvisioncompletelyblurredbytears.Thepostcloseswithapleatomeethimatsixo’clockthisSaturdayattheplacewherewerescuedourdog.
“Damnit,”ImumblewhenIputthephonedownonthetable.“Ithoughtwehadadeal.”
Alanahandsmeanapkintowipemyface.“Wedid.Buthe’samess.You’remiserable.Neitherofyouarecoping.I’msorryIresortedtoasneakattack,butcomeon.What’stheharminhearinghimout?”
“I’mnotmiserable,”Isayinmydefense.“I’mmovingon.”
Stephgivesmealookthatbegstodiffer.
“You’reindenial,”Alanacorrects.“Spendingtenhoursadayatthehotelandanotherfiveholedupinyourroomonyourwebsitesisnotthesignofsomeonewho’smovedon.”
Soit’sbeendifficult.Fine.Wheneverythingelseisspinningoutofcontrol,workiswhereIfindmycenter.It’sadistraction,andthemosteffectivewayI’vefoundtokeepmymindoffCooper.
Truthis,he’sahardmantogetover.Hardlyadaypasseswithoutmewakingupandexpectingtofeelhisarmaroundmeinbed.TentimesadayIalmosttexthimsomefunnyjokeorexcitingupdateaboutthehotel—untilIrememberheisn’tmineanymore.Daisystillsearchesforhim.Pickinguphisscenthereandthere.Lyingatthefootofhissideofthebed.Waitingatthedoorforsomeonewhonevercomes.
Nothingaboutbeinginthistownfeelsrightwithouthim.
Andnoneofthatchangesthefactthatheliedtome.Repeatedly.Hetookawaymypowertomakemyowndecisions.Hetrickedme,andIcan’tsoeasilydisregardthat.IfIcan’thaverespectformyself,noonewill.
“Meethim,”Alanaurges.“Listentowhathehastosay.Thengowithyourheart.What’stheharmindoingthatmuch?”
Irrevocabledamage.Asmallcrackintheleveethatgiveswaytoinsurmountableanguish.WhenIleftCooper,Ibuiltmywallssturdy,madetolast.Iwasn’tdesignedtoopenandshutatwill.Morethananything,IfearthatifIletmyselfseehim,Iwon’teverstopfeelingthisterribleache.ThatifIforgivehim,I’msettingmyselfuptoberuinedagain.BecauseIdon’tknowhowtowalkawayfromCooperHartleytwice
Imightnotsurviveitagain.CHAPTERFORTY-FIVE
COOPER
It’sseveno’clock.
Ifeellikeamoron.Ishouldhavedressedbetter.Broughthersomeflowers.IwasknockingaroundmyhouseallafternoontryingtonotgetworkedupaboutthisthatIdrovemyselffuckingbatshit.IwalkedoutofthehouseinmycargoshortsandaT-shirt,lookinglikeagoddamnbumaskingthisamazingwomantoforgivehimforbeingacompletebastardsincethedayshemethim.
WhatthefuckamIdoinghere?
Myeyetwitches.It’sbeendoingthatfortwodays.Alanatoldmeshe’dshownMacthepostI’dwritten,butwouldn’telaboratemuchonherreaction,excepttosayshedidn’tchuckthephoneintothestreet.It’sbeenanhoursincethetimeI’daskedtomeet,though,andwitheachpassingsecondmyhopeevaporates.Somehow,I’dgottenintomyheadthisplanwasfoolproof.Macwouldseemysincerityandthoughtfulness,andofcourseshe’dforgiveme.
Thiswasastupidplan.WhydidIthinkpouringmyheartoutonawebsiteshebuilttodragdumbasseslikemewouldberomantic?I’majoke.MaybeifI’dgoneafterherthatnightattheparty,Iwouldn’tbestandingherewiththeseagulls,whicharecirclingasifthey’remobilizingforanassault.Ikickamoundofsandintheairtoremindthemoftheirplaceinthefoodchain.
Sevenfifteen.
She’snotcoming.
MaybeIshouldn’thaveexpectedtowinheroverwithonegrandgesture,butIneverthoughtshe’dblowmeoffentirely.Itknocksthewindoutofmelikeapunchrighttothecenterofmychest.Theboardwalklightsflickeronasthesundipsbehindthetown.
She’sreallynotcoming.
Acceptingmyfate,IslowlyturnbacktowardthewayIcame,andthat’swhenIseealonefigurewalkingtowardme
Icareenintoafull-blownpanicatthesightofMacapproaching.She’sonlytenyardsawaynow.Five.Shelooksstunning,hertall,slenderbodywrappedupinanankle-lengthbluedresswithalowVneckline.Ihaven’tforgottenasinglefreckleorthewayhereyeshavelittleflecksofblueintheirgreendepths.Thecreaseofherlipswhenshesaysmyname.Seeingheragain,though,it’swipingthedustoffthewindow
“Ididn’tthinkyouwerecoming,”Itellher,tryingtokeepmycomposure.Igotherhere.LastthingIwanttodoisscareheroff,evenifeveryounceofmewantstoholdheronemoretime
“Ialmostdidn’t.”
Shecomestoastop,keepingafewfeetofdistancebetweenus.Thosethreefeetfeelinsurmountable.It’sstrangehowIcanreadherlessnowthanthefirsttimewemet.She’simpenetrable.Notgivinganythingaway.
ToomuchtimepasseswhereI’mlost,rememberingwhatitwasliketofeelherhairbetweenmyfingers,andshegetsimpatient.
“So…what’sup?”sheasks.
Fordays,allI’vedoneisrehearsehowI’ddothis.NowI’mhereandeverythingI’dplannedtosaysoundslikesomecornybullshit.I’mdyinghere.
“Look,thetruthisI’mgonnabebadatthisnomatterhowIsayit,soI’mjustgonnasayit.”Itakeadeepbreath.Nowornever,asshole.“I’veregrettedeverydayIwastoochickenshittotellyouthetruth.Iwasselfishandstupid,andyouhaveeveryrighttohateme.I’vehadnothingbuttimetothinkabouthowtoconvinceyouI’msorryandwhyyoushouldtakemeback.Honestly,Idon’thaveagoodreason.”
Maclooksaway,andIknowI’mlosingherbecausethisisallcomingoutwrong,butIcan’tseemtostopthewordsfromtearingoutofmymouth.
“WhatImeantosayis,IknowwhatIdidwaswrong.IknowIdestroyedyourtrustinme.ThatIbetrayedyou.Iwascarelesswithsomethingveryprecious.But,damnit,Mac,I’msoinlovewithyouandit’skillingmethatyou’restillouthere,outofreach,whenIknowinmysoulIcanmakeyouhappyagainifyouletme.I’vebeenabastardandwantyoutolovemebackanyway.It’snotfair.IshouldhavetosufferforhowIhurtyou.Ifuckingamsuffering.ButI’mbeggingyoutoputmeoutofmymisery.Idon’tknowhowtobewithoutyouanymore.”
I’moutofbreathbythetimemyjawsnapsshut,thedelayedmessagefinallymakingitswaytomybrain,sayingShutthehellup.MacwipesathereyesandIhavetolockmyselfdowntostopfromreachingforher.SecondspassasIwaitforhertorespond.Thenthecold,deadsilencewhenshedoesn’t.
“Iwanttoshowyousomething,”IblurtoutwhenIsenseshe’sreadytobail.“Willyoutakeawalkwithme?”
Shedoesn’tbudge.“Whatisit?”
“It’snotfar.Please.It’llonlytakeaminute.”
Shepondersmyofferforalmostlongerthanmynervescantolerate.Thenherheadjerksinagreement.
Iholdmyhandoutforhers.Instead,shewalksaheadofme.
Wegoalittlewaysdownthebeach,whereIcoaxheruptotheboardwalkinfrontofherhotel.It’sstillaguttedshell,thoughthedebrishasbeenhauledaway.Onwhat’sleftoftheveranda,twomatchingrockingchairssitlookingoutonthewater.Flickeringcandleslinetherailing.
Mac’sbreathhitches.Slowly,sheturnstomeetmyearnestgaze.“What’sthis?”shewhispers.
“Firsttimeyoubroughtmehere,youtoldmethatyoupicturedguestssittingouthereinrockingchairs,sippingwine,watchingthewavesrollin.”
Shelooksupatmewiththethousandsoftinylightsoftheboardwalkshininginhereyes.“Ican’tbelieveyouremembered.”
“Iremembereverywordyou’veeversaidtome.”
Hergazereturnstotheveranda.Icanfeelhersoftening,thestiffnessofherbodymeltingaway.
“Mac,whenIpicturemyfuture,Iseemyselfoldandgray,sittinginarockingchaironaporch.Withyoubesideme.That’smydream.”
Beforeher,Ididn’tbotherlookingaheadevenfiveyears.Theimagewasneveraprettyone.IfiguredI’dspendmydaysscrapingby,gettingthebareminimumoutoflife.Ineverconsideredthepossibilitythatsomeonemightbecrazyenoughtoloveme.ButMacdidloveme,andI’dgoneandrunheroff.
“Ican’tsayIwon’tevermessupagain,”Ichokeoutthroughthegravelliningmythroat.“Idon’thaveagreatframeofreferenceforfunctioningrelationships.SometimesIgettoofarupmyownass,ortoostuckinmyownbroodingthoughts.ButIcanpromisetotrytobeamanyoudeserve.Tobesomeoneyou’reproudof.AndIwillneverlietoyouagain.”Myvoicegrowshoarserbythesecond.“Please,Mac.Comehome.Idon’tknowwhatIamifIcan’tloveyou.”
Shestaresdownatherfeet,twistingherhandstogether.I’mbracingfortheworstthelongershedoesn’tspeak,butfinallyshetakesabreath.
“Youbrokemyheart,”shesays,sosoftlyaslightbreezecouldblowthewordsrightoutoftheair.“I’veneverbeensohurtbyanyoneinmylife.That’snotaneasythingtoletgo,Cooper.”
“Iunderstand.”MyheartisracingandI’mthinkingImightdroptomykneesifshedoesn’tsayyes.
“You’dhavetopromisemesomethingelse.”
“Nameit.”I’dfreezeakidneyforherifsheaskedforit.
Aslightsmirkcurvesherlips.“Youhavetostartcashingmyrentchecks.”
Mybrainstutterstocatchup.Thenhersmilewidensandshegrabsthefrontofmyshirt,pullingmylipstohers.Overcomewithrelief,Ihoistherupandwrapherlegsaroundmyhips,kissingheruntilwe’rebothgaspingforair.I’veneverkissedanyonewithmoreconvictionorintent.NeverneededanythingthewayI’veneededtofeelherinmyarmsagain.
“Iloveyou,”Imumbleagainstherlips.Itdoesn’tseemenoughtosayit,andyetIcan’tgetthewordsoutfastenough.“Somuch.”Asfarasclosecallsgo,thisonewasrazorthin.Ialmostlosther,lostthis.
Sheclingstome,kissingmebackwithurgency.Andmychestfillstothebrimwiththekindofnaked,honestloveIneverthoughtmyselfcapableoffeeling.Offinding.I’velearnedalotaboutmyselfoverthelastseveralmonths.NottheleastofwhichislearningtotakebettercareofthepeopleIlove.
Macpullsbackslightly,hergorgeouseyesseekingmine.“Iloveyoutoo,”shebreathes.
AndinthatmomentIvow,evenifittakesmetherestofmylife,toshowthisgirlshedidn’twasteherheartonme.ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Asanyonewhoknowsmecanattest,I’vebeenobsessedwithquaintbeachtownsforages.AvalonBaymightbeafictionaltown,butit’sanamalgamationofallmyfavoritepartsofvariouscoastaltownsI’vevisitedovertheyears,anditwasanabsolutejoytolosemyselfinthisworld.Ofcourse,Icouldn’thavedonethatwithoutthesupportandgeneralawesomenessofthefollowingpeople:myagent,KimberlyBrower,andeditor,EileenRothschild,fortheircontagiousenthusiasmforthisstory;LisaBonvissuto,ChristaDesir,andtherestoftheterrificstaffatSMP,andJonathanBushfortheincrediblecover!
Earlyreadersandauthorfriendswhoprovidedfeedbackandamazingblurbs;NatashaandNicoleforbeingthemostefficienthumanbeingsontheplanet;everysinglereviewer,blogger,Instagrammer,Booktokker,andreaderwhohasshared,supported,andlovedthisbook.
Andasalways,myfamilyandfriendsforputtingupwithmewheneverI’mindeadlinemode.Loveyouall.READONFORASNEAKPEEKATELLEKENNEDY’SNEWNOVEL
BadGirlReputation
AvailableAutumn2022
GENEVIEVE
Theguy’sgotsomenervewalkinginherelookinglikehedoes.Thosehauntingdarkeyesthatstilllurkinthedeepestpartsofmymemory.Brown,nearlyblackhairIstillfeelbetweenmyfingers.He’sasheart-stabbinglygorgeousasthepicturesthatstillflickerbehindmyeyes.It’sbeenayearsinceIlastsawhim,yetmyresponsetohimisthesame.HewalksintoaroomandmybodynoticeshimbeforeIdo.It’sadisturbanceofstaticintheairthatdancesacrossmyskin.
It’sobnoxious,iswhatitis.Andthatmybodyhastheaudacitytoreacttohim,now,atmymother’sfuneral,isevenmoredisturbing.
EvanstandswithhistwinbrotherCooper,scanningtheroomuntilhenoticesme.Theguysareidenticalexceptforoccasionalvariancesintheirhaircuts,butmostpeopletellthemapartbytheirtattoos.Cooper’sgottwofullsleeves,whilemostofEvan’sinkisonhisback.Me,Iknowitfromhiseyes.Whetherthey’regleamingwithmischieforflickeringwithjoy,need,frustration…Ialwaysknowwhenit’sEvan’seyesonme.
Ourgazesmeet.Henods.Inodback,mypulsequickening.Literallythreesecondslater,EvanandIconvenedownthehallwheretherearenowitnesses.
It’sstrangehowfamiliarwearewithsomepeople,nomatterhowmuchtimehaspassed.Memoriesofthetwoofuswashovermelikeabalmybreeze.Walkingthroughthishousewithhimlikewe’rebackinhighschool.Sneakinginandoutatallhours.Stumblingwithhandsagainstthewalltostayupright.Laughinginhystericalwhisperstonotwakeupthewholehouse.
“Hey,”hesays,holdingouthisarmsinahesitantoffer,whichIacceptbecauseitfeelsmoreawkwardnotto.
Healwaysdidgivegoodhugs.
Iforcemyselfnottolingerinhisarms,nottoinhalehisscent.Hisbodyiswarmandmuscularandasfamiliartomeasmyown.Iknoweveryinchofthattall,deliciousframe.
Itakeahastystepbackward.
“Yeah,so,Iheard.Obviously.Wantedtopaymyrespects.”Evanisbashful,almostcoy,withhishandsinhispocketsandhisheadbowedtolookatmeunderthicklashes.Ican’timaginethepeptalkittooktogethimhere.
“Thanks.”
“And,well,yeah.”Fromonepocket,hepullsoutablueBlowPop.“Igotyouthis.”
Ihaven’tcriedoncesincefindingoutMomwassick.YetacceptingthisstupidtokenfromEvanmakesmythroattightenandmyeyessting.
I’msuddenlytransportedbacktothefirsttimeaBlowPopeverexchangedhandsbetweenus.Anotherfuneral.Anotherdeadparent.ItwasafterEvan’sdad,Walt,diedinacaraccident.Drunkdriving,becausethat’sthekindofreckless,self-destructivemanWaltHartleyhadbeen.Fortunately,nobodyelsehadbeenhurt,butWalt’slifeendedonthedarkroadthatnightwhenhe’dlostcontrolandsmashedintoatree.
Iwastwelveatthetimeandhadnocluewhattobringtoawake.Myparentsbroughtflowers,butEvanwasakidlikeme.Whatwashegoingtodowithflowers?AllIknewwasthatmybestfriendandtheboyI’dalwayshadahugecrushonwashurtingbadly,andallIhadtomynamewasonemeaslydollar.ThefanciestthingIcouldaffordatthegeneralstorewasalollipop.
EvanhadcriedwhenIquietlysatbesidehimonthebackdeckofhishouseandclaspedtheBlowPopinhisshakinghand.He’dwhispered,“Thanks,Gen,”andthenwesatthereinsilenceformorethananhour,staringatthewaveslappingattheshore.
“Shutup,”Imuttertomyself,clenchingthelollipopinmypalm.“You’resodumb.”Despitemywords,webothknowI’mdeeplyaffected.
Evancracksaknowingsmileandsmoothsonehandoverhistie,straighteningit.Hecleansupnice,butnottoonice.Somethingaboutasuitonthisguystillfeelsdangerous.
“You’reluckyIfoundyoufirst,”ItellhimonceIcanspeakagain.“Notsuremybrotherswouldbeasfriendly.”
Withanunconcernedsmirk,heshrugs.“Kellanhitslikeagirl.”
Typical.“I’llmakesuretotellhimyousaidso.”
Somewanderingcousinsglimpseusaroundthecornerandlookasthoughtheymightfindareasontocometalktome,soIgrabEvanbythelapelandshovehimtowardthelaundryroom.Ipressmyselfupagainstthedoorframe,thenchecktomakesurethecoastisclear.
“Ican’tgethijackedintoanotherconversationabouthowmuchIremindpeopleofmymom,”Igroan.“Like,dude,thelasttimeyousawme,Istillwasn’teatingsolidfood.”
Evanadjustshistieagain.“Theythinkthey’rehelping.”
“Well,they’renot.”
EveryonewantstotellmewhatagreatladyMomwasandhowimportantfamilywastoher.It’salmostcreepy,hearingpeopletalkaboutawomanwhobearsnoresemblancetothepersonIknew.
“Howyouholdingup?”heasksroughly.“Like,really?”
Ishruginreturn.Becausethat’sthequestion,isn’tit?I’vebeenaskeditadozendifferentwaysoverthepastcoupledays,andIstilldon’thaveaproperanswer.Oratleast,nottheonepeoplewanttohear.
“I’mnotsureIfeelanything.Idon’tknow.MaybeI’mstillinshockorsomething.Youalwaysexpectthesethingstohappeninasplitsecond,orovermonthsandmonths.This,though.Itwaslikejustthewrongamountofwarning.Icamehomeandaweeklatershewasdead.”
“Igetthat,”hesays.“Barelytimetogetyourbearingsbeforeit’sover.”
“Ihaven’tknownwhichwayisupfordays.”Ibitemylip.“I’mstartingtowonderifthere’ssomethingwrongwithme?”
Hefixesmewithadisbelievingscowl.“It’sdeath,Fred.There’snothingwrongwithyou.”
Isnortalaughathisnicknameforme.BeensolongsinceI’veheardit,I’dalmostforgottenwhatitsoundedlike.TherewasatimewhenIansweredtoitmorethanmyownname.
“Seriously,though.Ikeepwaitingforthegrieftohit,butitdoesn’tcome.”
“It’shardtofindalotofemotionforapersonwhodidn’thavealotforyou.Evenifit’syourmom.”Hepauses.“Maybeespeciallymoms.”
“True.”
Evangetsit.Healwayshas.Oneofthethingswehaveincommonisanunorthodoxrelationshipwithourmothers.Inthatthereisn’tmuchrelationshiptospeakof.Whilehismomisanimpermanentideainhislife—absentexceptforthefewtimesayearshebreezesintotowntosleepoffabenderoraskformoney—minewasabsentinspiritifnotinbody.Minewassocoldanddetached,eveninmyearliestmemories,thatshehardlyseemedtoexistatall.Igrewupjealousoftheflowerbedsshetendedinthefrontyard.
“I’malmostrelievedshe’sgone.”Alumprisesinmythroat.“No,morethanalmost.That’sterribletosay,Iknowthat.Butit’slike…nowIcanstoptrying,youknow?Tryingandthenfeelinglikeshitwhenitdoesn’tchange.”
MywholelifeImadeeffortstoconnectwithher.Tofigureoutwhymymotherdidn’tseemtolikememuch.I’dnevergottenananswer.MaybenowIcanstopasking.
“It’snotterrible,”Evansays.“Somepeoplemakeshitparents.It’snotourfaulttheydon’tknowhowtoloveus.”
ExceptforCraig—Momcertainlyknewhowtolovehim.Afterfivefailedattempts,she’dfinallygottenthereciperightwithhim.Heroneperfectsonshecouldpouralifetimeofmotheringinto.Wemightaswellhavebeenraisedbytwodifferentpeople.He’stheonlyoneofuswalkingaroundherewithred,swolleneyes.
“CanItellyousomething?”Evansayswithagrinthatmakesmesuspicious.“Butyouhavetopromisenottohitme.”
“Yeah,Ican’tdothat.”
Helaughstohimselfandlickshislips.Aninvoluntaryhabitthatalwaysdrovemecrazy,becauseIknowwhatthatmouthiscapableof.
“Imissedyou,”heconfesses.“AmIanassholeifI’msortofgladsomeonedied?”
Ipunchhimintheshoulder,towhichhefeignsinjury.Hedoesn’tmeanit.Notreally.ButinaweirdwayIappreciatethesentiment,ifonlybecauseitgivesmepermissiontosmileforasecondortwo.Tobreathe.
Itoywiththethinsilverbraceletcirclingmywrist.Notquitemeetinghiseyes.“Imissedyou,too.Alittle.”
“Alittle?”He’smockingme.
“Justalittle.”
“Mm-hmm.Soyouthoughtaboutme,what,once,twiceadaywhenyouweregone?”
“Morelikeonceortwicetotal.”
Hechuckles.
Truthfully,afterIlefttheBayIspentmonthsdoingmybesttopushawaythethoughtsofhimwhentheyinsistedtheirwayforward.RefusingtheimagesthatcamewhenIclosedmyeyesatnightorwentonadate.Eventuallyitgoteasier.I’dalmostmanagedtoforgethim.Almost.
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