My alarm goes off at 6AM, and my eyes spring open. Not that they closed much the entire night.
What the fuck was I thinking?
What the fuck did I do?
I wasn’t thinking, and that’s the problem. The last time I hooked up with Aaron, I could blame the wine coolers—yeah, because that’s what it was. Last night I hadn’t had so much as a sip of champagne because I was too worried about things going wrong. And then they went wrong in an epic way.
When I saw his silhouette standing by the ocean, I had no intention of doing anything. But if that were really true, I would’ve walked the other way. I would’ve pretended I didn’t see him.
I grip the comforter and fling it over my face to hide my embarrassment. Doesn’t matter that I’m the only one in the room and there’s no one else around to witness my humiliation.
As much as I want to lie to myself about what happened last night, I can’t.
Maybe the reason I went to the beach is because deep down I knew he’d be there. From the minute he walked into the tent, I wanted him. My body wanted him even if my mind balked at the idea. When I told him I had little experience with men, I was telling him the truth—I don’t. He’s the only man I’ve ever been with.
Like most kids growing up, I’ve watched some porn, read some books, and looked at pictures, so I have a general idea about what I’m doing, and I know what I want. Not that I did anything last night except lie on the boulder. Aaron took care of himself, which was kind of disappointing because I would have liked to have touched him more.
He. Blew. My. Mind.
When I orgasmed, it was like I’d died for a few seconds before coming back to life. My self-administered orgasms felt nothing like that. Not even in the same zip code. Sure, I get a few flutters and tingles when I make myself come, but when I came on his mouth, my entire body shook, every cell exploded, and every synapse fired.
That kind of climax was probably a one-off. There’s no way it could be like that every single time. Considering how anxious and tense I’ve been, I probably just needed the release.
The way the night ended makes me groan. I ran away like a scared little girl practically leaving him with his dick sticking out of his pants. Real mature. Very womanly.
What was I supposed to do or say, “Hey, thanks for the orgasm. See you tomorrow, brother.” Which I kind of did say.
I clench the comforter even harder and close my eyes as nuclear levels of embarrassment scorch my body. And as if throwing myself at Aaron wasn’t bad enough, when I got back last night, I checked my emails. I’d received one from my mom’s friend. At the last minute, she and her husband had decided to take their kids to Europe for the summer, and they didn’t need a nanny. I was pissed because I’d planned the next two months around working for her.
Well, what’s done is done. I’ll figure out my summer plans tomorrow, and as for today, I’ll pretend like nothing happened. All day I’ll act like I have amnesia. That’s probably the best way to deal with the Aaron situation.
My clit tingles with sensitivity, and I remember the way he sucked and nibbled. What I wouldn’t give for another one of those orgasms right now. To feel that release again. To let go of all the tension whirling inside me. My fingers wander down my body, and I consider getting myself off, but before I can do anything, a knock rattles my bedroom door.
“You awake, baby?” My mom opens the door and pokes her head in. Her hair is wet, and her skin glows.
“Today’s the big day,” she says, her voice shakes a little, and I can tell she’s nervous.
I pull the comforter off my face and sit up. “Mom, are you okay?”
“I’m good. It’s not every day I get married.” She comes into my room and closes the door.
I know my mom better than anyone, and something is bothering her. “Spill.”
“I think I made a mistake.”
“What do you mean a mistake?” My stomach bottoms out and I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack with how hard my heart just seized. “Don’t you want to get married?”
“God, yes. He’s the man I want to grow old with. He’s a man I want to take a cruise around the world with when we retire.” She wrings her hands in front of her stomach and plays with her engagement ring—a tasteful, white gold princess cut solitaire. “Having a big white wedding and inviting two-hundred people. We should’ve eloped.”
“Like you did with my dad?”
“That was different. Your dad and I married at the courthouse because I was pregnant with you. I was never the kind of woman who dreamed of a white wedding because I never thought I’d get married again.” She sits on my mattress and takes my hand. “I feel too old for all this pomp and circumstance.”
I squeeze her hand and say, “You’re only forty. You look more like my sister than my mom. You’re so not too old for a big white dress and cake that would feed a small country. You’re walking down the aisle to the man you love. I know you’re nervous, but try not to be.”
She sighs and pats my hand, but I still see the worry in her emerald green eyes, eyes so much like mine. “You’re right, baby girl. You’re right. How about I make all of us some pancakes before we get dressed?”
“I don’t think I can eat,” I say, setting my hand on my queasy stomach. “I think I’m more nervous than you.”
She stands up, and when she stretches, her robe falls open. There’s a slight roundness curving her usually flat stomach. Is there something my mom isn’t telling me?
“What time is Chelsea coming over,” she asks, tying her robe. “I’m surprised she didn’t stay last night.”
“She should be over within the hour. She wanted to spend the night with her dad.”
She moves towards the door, but before she leaves, she turns and says, “Since you two were always joined at the hip, she’s always been like my daughter. I feel privileged at becoming her stepmom. I know no one will ever replace her mom, but I hope our relationship doesn’t change now that I’m marrying her dad.”
“You don’t need me to tell you how much Chels loves you, Mom. Heck, she sometimes confides in you before me.”
“I want us all to be happy. And I hope Aaron and his dad can find a way.”
I step out of bed and stick my feet in my bunny slippers. “We will be happy. We are happy. Even Aaron.”
“Are you sure about that?” she asks, a flash of worry flitting across her eyes. “Did you talk to him much last night? I saw you dancing.”
“We talked a little,” I reply, my cheeks reddening at the lie I’m telling her.
Her fingers go to her hair, and she drags on the ends, pulling her corkscrew curls straight. “You think he’s going to stick around for a while?”
“Who knows with Aaron.”
“It would mean a lot to his dad if he visited more.”
“I know, Mom. Just don’t count on it.” I’m not sure whose benefit I say that for—hers or mine. “You know how it is with college football. He might have been benched for most of the year, but he still has commitments.”
“You’re right.” She gives me a wide smile and opens my bedroom door. “Time to get the show on the road.” She’s doing her best to hide how nervous she is, but I can always tell. When she’s on edge, she fidgets with her fingers and hair.
Today is a big deal for her, for all of us, not only because she’s getting married but because she’ll be on show. Being the center of attention isn’t something my mom likes. Another one of the ways I’m like her, which, considering I’m the flyer in the cheer squad, is weird.
Today, we’re both going to have to tuck our introvert tendencies away and put on a show. I have to be prepared for every eventuality, and that means being focused on my mom and Coach Thompson and not on Aaron.
***
While Chelsea finishes her makeup in the bathroom, I’m with my mom in her bedroom.
She’s smoothing down her dress in front of the full-length mirror, and I stand behind her. I gaze at our reflections. We really are like sisters. We both have almond-shaped, green eyes, brunette hair—hers is curly, mine is straight—and red cupid’s bow lips with a light smattering of freckles over our noses.
Not for the first time today, I notice the slight curve of her stomach. Her empire line dress seems to accentuate it. Now that I think back to last night, I don’t recall her having any wine. In fact, I don’t remember the last time I saw her take a drink.
“You look stunning, Mom. Coach Thompson—Jack—is a lucky man to have you.”
“You look stunning too.” I’m wearing an aquamarine maxi dress with thin spaghetti straps that crisscross the whole way down my back. The front has a lowcut sweetheart neckline, and it’s more revealing than I’d normally wear, but when I tried it on, I knew it was the dress for me.
I glance at my mom’s stomach again and open my mouth to ask if there’s anything she wants to tell me, but Chelsea comes into the room and I decide now isn’t the time.
My best friend and soon to be sister squees with excitement. “OMG, Sherry. My dad is going to freak when he sees you.” Tears fill her eyes, and she waves her hands in front of them doing her best not to smear her mascara.
“You look beautiful too, Chelsea,” my mom says, holding her hands to her heart. “And I think Wes is going to freak when he sees you.” Chelsea is wearing the same color as I am, except her dress has one shoulder and is made from chiffon while mine is made from silk.
She flicks her golden hair over her shoulder. The daisies entwined in her hair flutter. She’s wearing them as a sweet tribute to her mom. “As he should,” Chelsea says.
We all give watery laughs and hold hands.
“It’s not like we’re not already a family,” I say, “but now we’re officially a family.”
“Forever,” Chelsea says.
“Forever,” I repeat.
“Forever,” my mom confirms.
I release their hands, go to the door and open it. I nod towards Shayla and Becca who grin excitedly before they walk downstairs. They’re going to inform the band to start the music and let everyone know the bride is on her way.
Then it hits me. I’m going to see Aaron. Shit on a fucking stick. I’ve been so busy all morning making sure everything was in order. Like the food, the drinks, and the dresses. I haven’t had time to think about him or think about seeing him, but what can I do? It’s not like I can run away and bury my head in the sand—as tempting as that is.
Chelsea walks out ahead of my mom, and after she walks downstairs, my mom and I follow.
“I can’t believe I’m so nervous,” she says. She might be nervous, but she’s also excited. I can see it in her eyes and in her smile.
I’m happy she has someone in her life to fuss over. For all intents and purposes, my mom is an empty nester. Shayla is a freshman at Calton, and Becca starts there next year. But if my suspicions are correct, maybe she won’t be an empty nester for long.
When I get her alone later, I’ll ask why she hasn’t been drinking, and come to think of it, why she hasn’t been working out.
It’d be weird having a kid sister or brother twenty years my junior, but so cool for my mom and Jack. I won’t get my hopes up in case my suspicions are wrong.
Chelsea sashays out of the house, her dress swishing against her ankles, to the beach. Once again, I went with the beachy scene where everything coordinates in greens, blues, and neutrals.
When Chelsea is halfway up the aisle, Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” sounds. I take my mom’s hand in mine and whisper. “There’s no other man I would rather give you to than Jack.”
She turns towards me, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. “You do know that no one has ever made me as happy or as proud as you and your sisters have.”
“I know, Mom,” I say and sniff. “We feel the same way about you.” I squeeze her hand and walk her down the aisle keeping my eyes forward, not only because I don’t want to fall but because I have zero interest in seeing Aaron right now. If I do, I might stumble and end up on my ass.
Once we reach the top of the aisle, Jack turns to us. The love on his face melts my heart. I’m not one to show my emotions, like ever. But when I see how much he loves my mom and how happy he is to see her, I can’t help but cry, and tears stream down my cheeks.
“Who presents this woman to be married to this man?” The pastor asks.
I can barely say the words, “I do.”
A tissue is waved in front of my face, and I grasp it. Appreciative, I turn to say thank you to whoever gave it to me. Of course, it’s Aaron with a smug smile on his gorgeous, freshly shaven face.
I don’t return his smile. Instead, I take my seat beside Chelsea and dab my eyes.
The tissue smells like him—a musky summer scent—and rather than focus on my mom’s vows, I’m back at the beach with my head thrown back, screaming as my body spasms around his mouth.
Fuck my fucking hormones to fucking hell.
***
I flop beside a newly engaged Chelsea, who’s on her fiancé’s lap. After she caught my mom’s bouquet, Wesley got down on one knee and proposed to Chelsea with her mom’s engagement ring.
I’m excited and ecstatic for her, but I also feel lonely. I kick off my heels. My feet are no longer skin and bone, they’re cement blocks. The feeling of no shoes feels almost as good as last night’s orgasm.
It’s early evening, and, so far, people show no signs of leaving. My mom and Jack have hardly left the dance floor and are currently swaying to I’ve Been Waiting for a Girl Like You by Foreigner.
My mom is an eighties chick through and through and loves nothing more than seeing her teen hairbands during the concert summer season. My sisters and I have been dragged to more revivals than I care to remember.
She and Jack had left for their honeymoon a few hours ago, but halfway to the airport, they discovered their flight had been rescheduled until tomorrow morning, so they came home to enjoy the rest of the party.
All day, I’ve avoided Aaron in all his suited sexiness. How does a man who’s as big as him manage to look that good in a linen suit? I mean seriously—his lightly tanned skin glows in the sand-colored fabric. No one is supposed to look good in sand. They’re supposed to look washed out and pale.
The tissue he gave me is still tucked inside my dress. I kept it in case I cried again, not because it smells like him.
Chelsea sips on a glass of champagne and giggles. We can’t legally drink yet, but our parents allow us to drink in moderation and under supervision. Although, Chelsea’s idea of moderation means a bottle or two. She’s more than tipsy and can barely stand.
“Time to get you to bed, drunky,” Wesley says, pressing a kiss to her head. He stands, picks her up, and holds her in his arms as if she weighs nothing more than a bag of sugar.
“My hero. My fiancé.” She looks at him adoringly through glazed, unfocused eyes.
“Night, Sis,” I call.
“Night, Sissy,” she calls back and then blows a kiss. “Love you.”
“Love you, too. Drink some water.”
As soon as they leave, Aaron sits down beside me, and my nipples instantly harden. Traitors.
“You’re avoiding me,” he says, smelling a hundred times better than the tissue he gave me.
“What makes you think that?” In an effort to get away from him I stand up before my hormones take over and make me do something stupid like take his hand and lead him back to the beach.
He places an arm on mine, and a series of shivers race up and down my body. “Running away again?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” I do nothing to hide my contempt, but I wish I knew who my contempt was for—me or him. “I have things I need to do.”
“Like what? The wedding’s over. Everyone will leave soon. Sit down and talk to me, Tay.”
“I have stuff to do,” I say, gritting my teeth, but I’m not gritting my teeth at him. I’m trying to keep myself under control.
“Is everything okay?” That would be Jack coming towards us. “What’s going on here?” he asks, directing his question towards Aaron. “Are you upsetting her?”
Aaron tunnels his fingers through his hair. “Typical, Dad. That’s what you would think. That I’m bothering her. What if she’s the one bothering me, huh?”
“Don’t get smart with me, Son.”
“It’s fine, Jack,” I say. “We were talking about the wedding. No big deal. Aaron wanted to help me clean up. The place is like a bomb hit it. Who would have thought our friends would be this messy?” I’m babbling, but I want to defuse the situation before an argument erupts.
Jack looks like he doesn’t believe a word I’ve said. “I warned you last night not to cause any problems.”
Aaron pushes away from his seat and the chair screeches. The room goes silent, and everyone looks at him.
“Please don’t,” I say under my breath. “Please don’t, please. Not now.”
Our eyes meet, and the way he looks at me shows me how hurt he is. My hand aches to reach out to him, to comfort him, but I resist. I can’t show him any affection. No one can ever suspect what happened between us and I’m afraid if I go near him, everyone will.
“I’m so glad you have so much confidence in me, Dad.” He gives a terse salute. “See you again in a few years.”
Aaron doesn’t storm out of the tent, he doesn’t march either, he simply saunters out like the cocky-ass jock he’s always been and always will be.
“He really wasn’t bothering me, Coach,” I say.
“You don’t have to lie to protect him, Taylor. I could see by the look on your face he was more than bothering you.”
My mom floats over and rests her head on Jack’s bicep, she looks content but exhausted. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine, Mom” I lie. “Are you two lovebirds ready for your honeymoon? What time’s your flight?” I know what time their flight is at, but I just need something to talk about, so I don’t have to talk about Aaron.
“At five, which means we’re going to have to go to bed very soon,” she says with a yawn.
I reach out and rub her arm. “You guys go. I’ll say goodbye to everyone.”
On closer inspection, beneath her eyes I see purple shadows showing through her makeup.
“Are you okay, mom? You look a little unwell.”
She glances at Jack and then at me. “I’m fine, baby girl, don’t worry. It’s been a long few weeks, is all. Once I get to bed and get some sleep, I’ll be fine.” I don’t miss how she absentmindedly places a hand on her stomach. “Sorry again about the nannying job. Sarah is very apologetic. What with your sisters traveling around the state in an RV and Chelsea working at the camp, you’re all on your own for a while.”
“It is what it is.” I shrug. “What can I do?”
I was so ready to get away from my real life for a while, and now that Aaron is here, I’m ready to get away from him too.
I don’t know how long he’ll stick around or if he will stick around. For all I know, he could already be on his way back to California by now. But if he does stick around, I sure as hell don’t want to be here because I don’t know what will happen if we’re both within a five-mile radius of each other. Then I have an idea.
“Hey, Jack, since I’m not nannying and it’s too late to apply to be a camp counselor, do you mind if I use your cabin for a few weeks?”
“You sure you want to go there?” he asks, looking at me like I’m crazy. “The place hasn’t been used in a while and needs cleaned. Plus, there’s no air conditioning, and I’m sure some critters have made a home in the attic.”
“I can clean, and I’m always cold even on ninety-degree days. As for the critters, they’ll keep me company.”
“You freak out if a fly comes anywhere near you,” my mom reminds me with a laugh. “What if you see a snake? You’re terrified of snakes.”
“I’ll be fine mom. I’ll pull on my big girl panties and deal with it.” I’m not afraid of many things, but snakes scare the crap out of me. When I was five, I accidentally stood on one, and it wrapped itself around my ankle. Thank God, it didn’t bite, but I’ll never forget the feeling of its scales on my spindly leg.
I screamed bloody murder, and luckily with all my leg shaking, the snake fell off. My mom tore out of the house. When she saw the snake, she grabbed a shovel and chopped it’s head off. Turned out it was a kingsnake, and its bite was nonvenomous, but they’re powerful constrictors. I’m sure it saw tiny me as its next meal. Ever since, I’ve had a phobia.
“Awww, my baby’s all grown up.”
“Whatever, Mom.”
“Do you know where the keys are,” Jack asks.
“No,” I say and shake my head.
“They’re hidden beneath the third rock at the back near the hot tub.”
“Awesome. Thanks.” For the next two weeks, I plan to read and eat junk food and not talk to anyone. I won’t think about Aaron, his abs, his ass, or his dick.
I won’t think about anything.