A foolish part of me believed what Rex and I had was real. The way his body moved over mine, in mine, he put on quite the convincing act. I close my eyes and relive that moment. How could I have mistaken any of that for magic? For true love? If the Tobermans aren’t laughing at us all, they should be.
On Sunday, as we pack up to leave, Sabrina comes over and offers up a firm embrace.
“What’s this for?” I’m still a little skeptical of any show of kindness my sister might throw my way. Chalk it up to a decade’s worth of bruised hearts, one stolen boyfriend, and one stolen kiss.
“For putting up with me all these years.” She pulls back with tears glistening in her vibrant eyes. I’ve always thought Sabrina’s deep aquamarine-colored irises were far more elegant than my algae-riddled lenses, and now that they’re illuminated with tears, they glow a peculiar shade of neon. “I’m not with Duncan anymore.”
“Really?” My heart thuds to a stop as if this were genuinely disconcerting. In a way it is. Sabrina as a free agent has generally been a dangerous thing.
“Yes, really.” Her smile crumbles a moment, and I see myself in her features, knife-sharp like a mirror image. I’ve often wondered what Duncan saw in her—in the least he saw a vague image of me. “The truth is, I’ve always been jealous of you. I’ve always wanted what you’ve had. I was never that into Duncan. And don’t hate me, but I wanted to try to steal Rex away from you, too. Deep down, I’ve always felt like everyone gravitated to you, and all I ever wanted was a piece of that affection. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Sabrina.” I pull her in, and her chest bucks over mine.
“I’m ready to bury the past with an ice pick,” she whispers.
“You mean hatchet?”
“No, trust me, when you really need the job done, you always go with an ice pick.”
We share a hearty laugh, a sisterly laugh. She hugs me hard, and I hug her back. For the very first time in forever, it feels as if something has been restored. Even though I’ve lost Rex, I’ve regained my sister.
I guess you really can’t have it all.
August comes with a searing heat that turns my hair to whiskers of hay, my skin to dry scales, thirsty for a cocoa butter bath. But it’s my heart that’s shriveled ten sizes too small, no longer able to care for the rest of me. I want nothing more than to curl up in a ball and sleep through the rest of this thick, polemic heat wave that summer has become. But it’s not the heat that’s got me wishing I could escape reality for a week or ten. It’s the boy who reached into my chest and squeezed the life out of my beating heart. I’ve successfully avoided Rex, dodging into the bathroom for an hour straight when I accidentally bumped into him in the library. My entire body clapped with an electrical jolt. I shook like a dog at the kennel as I sat fully clothed on that toilet seat. Not my finest moment, but by the time I paroled myself from my self-imposed restroom exile, he was nowhere to be seen.
He’s all but stopped texting me, so there’s that. A part of me misses the barrage of electronic missives that bordered on cyberstalking as much as I miss Rex, or at least the version I thought I knew. Then finally—and much to my relief—the football team disappeared off to some boot camp for the last two weeks. It was as if I could finally move about campus without fear of bumping into him, landing myself on another toilet for far longer than any clothed tushie was ever meant to sit on it. But now he’s back, and I’m right back to dodging. With the exception of this very minute, I’m not dodging anyone. I’m frosting at a million miles an hour.
Roxy and I have stood side by side for the last four hours straight, frosting cupcakes for one of her best friend’s wedding. I’ve met Izzy around the bar, and, of course, Holt practically runs the place himself with his brother, Bryson. Roxy’s been on edge all day trying to get every little detail right. The cupcakes of choice are red velvet with cream cheese frosting. Half of the cupcakes have a pink ballerina slipper made of melted sugar because Izzy owns her own dance studio, and the other half are adorned with a chocolate martini glass to represent the bars that Holt owns.
“These are totally adorable,” I reassure her as I box up the last of them. There are fifty boxes, a dozen in each box, which makes for one serious cupcake feast for everyone at the venue. Not to mention the fact, Roxy’s cupcakes are huge, more muffin-like than anything small and dainty. I sniff hard while stacking the boxes for Cole to carry downstairs. I’ve already studied the route to the Electric Lights Dance Company as if it were the LSATs. It’s way out in the boonies, but with a little fancy, yet time-consuming maneuvering, I can totally get there on side streets.
“Hey.” Roxy places her hand on my shoulder and carefully spins me toward her. “Things still in the shitter?” Her dark cherry red hair is a touch more pronounced than mine, and her makeup is amazing, albeit Goth-inspired with heavy kohl liner ringing her eyes. Roxy is gorgeous and a badass baker chick who doesn’t take crap from anyone. She would never have had her boyfriend stolen by her sister or gifted her virginity to a con artist. Over the last few weeks, I’ve filled her in on life in “the shitter.”
“It hasn’t been easy.”
Cole swoops in and kisses Roxy from behind as he helps load the boxes into a thermal soft cooler. They would have brought the cupcakes themselves since they’ll be attending the wedding, but they still need to get dressed, and the cupcakes need to be meticulously arranged at least an hour in advance since this is basically their wedding cake.
“What’s not easy?” Cole glances from me to Roxy as he stacks the last of the boxes.
“None of your hot business.” Roxy is forever flirting with Cole. She’s a little on the abrasive side, but he seems to get a kick out of it.
“No, it’s okay.” I’m not in the mood to hide my less than favorable disposition. “The guy I was dating—”
“The asshat she gifted her virginity to—” Roxy cuts me off.
“Right.” I frown at Cole a moment. So much for it not being any of his hot business. “Anyway, things didn’t end exactly how I thought they would, and loading the cupcakes sort of reminded me of the cute nickname he used to call me—Muffin Top.”
Cole inches back as if the moniker offended him personally. “You sure he liked you?”
Roxy swats him. “Get this down to the car.”
“Sorry. Will do.” He grabs the cooler and heads to the elevator.
“Don’t worry about this guy.” Roxy pulls me into a tight embrace, a display of affection I’m not used to with her. She takes a step back and nods as if I should know what she’s about to say next. “Sometimes, things have a funny way of working themselves out, and, if they do, I totally take back the asshat comment.”
We share a quick laugh. “It would take an act of God for things to work out between us.”
“If it’s meant to be, trust me, you’ll find yourself in an act of God sooner than later. Hold on to your skirt. It might just be a bumpy ride.”
I think on her cryptic words all the way down to my car where Cole entombs the cooler into my truck.
He hands me the keys with a pained smile. “I just remembered they’re doing roadwork out by 57th. You’ll have to hang a right off Central and take the highway about a few miles. Just a small detour. You’ll get there quicker, too.” He heads back toward the building. “I’ll see you at the dance studio!”
“Right,” I whisper mostly to myself. My heart palpitates unnaturally. My entire body breaks out into a sweat. “The highway? I can’t do the highway.” I sink into the driver’s seat and turn the engine, hoping to God it’ll idle and I’ll be forced to have Roxy and Cole take the damn things. “Oh God, oh God, oh God!” I hit the street and drive as far down toward the south end of town as possible until I hit that roadwork Cole promised. The highway is coming up ahead, and my entire body gyrates as I tense into a giant bundle of nerves.
“I’m not the same person,” I mutter under my breath as I try to will myself to change lanes. It’s true. The old me wasn’t j
ust afraid of highways, I was afraid of just about everything—losing my mother, my father, my sister, and brother, losing myself in the midst of a horrible trial by fire my family went through. I was afraid to know Rex. Then I was afraid of falling in love with Rex, which morphed into my fear of sleeping with Rex, and then finally my fear of Rex flat-out leaving me. I suppose in a small way all of my fears came true. Damn my fears. Damn Rex.
The car behind me lays on its horn as I startle back to reality. Heaven help me. I have a trunk full of six hundred cupcakes. Izzy and Holt are depending on me to make sure their wedding day goes off without a hitch. I’m a big girl. I can’t call Cole and Roxy to rescue me. Besides, knowing the kinky two of them, they’re in the shower together right this sexed-up minute.
Another agitated honk comes from behind.
“All right, you asshat, I’m moving!” I shout while attempting to traverse three entire lanes in order to cut off a bus that’s picking up speed. I glide right onto the on-ramp and—holy shit—off I go. It’s only a few miles. I can do this.
The cars around me zoom by all too fast. My heart picks up pace. My chest tightens, making it that much harder to breathe.
God, I’m going to have a cardiac episode and die right here on the interstate. No wonder I’ve been so damn afraid of it all my life. Deep down, I knew it would cause my untimely demise!
Another horn goes off, this one coupled with a finger, as I struggle to merge into traffic, and a black SUV narrowly clips me on the passenger’s side.
I grip my hands over the wheel as I barrel along with the flow of traffic. My body drips with sweat. I can’t catch my breath, and the sun hits my eyes and blinds me to the road.
What the hell did I get myself into?
One thing’s for sure. It’s going to take an act of God to get me out of it.
Rex
Once the busses rolled back onto the Whitney Briggs’s campus, last night at eleven fifty-nine p.m., I was more than tempted to bolt straight to Scarlett’s dorm. She wanted space, and I gave it to her. Now it’s my turn to get to say my piece. Of course, my piece involves copious amounts of begging, some degrading groveling, and ends with an incessant plea to let me kiss her feet one last time. It also very much involves spewing the truth as fast and high as Old Faithful. What my mother did was wrong. Hell, what I did was wrong. There is no easy way around this. I don’t know if she’ll forgive me. The only thing I know for sure is that I need Scarlett in my life. I need us to work. We have to. I’m in love with the girl. Those feelings don’t just fade away, not overnight, not over time.
Saturday afternoon, after some fast talking, her roommate begrudgingly sent me to Briggs Apartments where Cole Brighton, the bartender down at the Black Bear, answers the door.
“She’s not here.” He’s decked out in a suit as he struggles to adjust his tie.
“Where is she, man? I need to speak with her. I swear that’s all I’m going to do.”
“Don’t you dare!” a female voice comes from the back, and Cole winces.
“Dude, I think you’re cool. You’re one of the good guys.” He shakes his head and cuts the air with his hand. “The wedding is at the Electric Lights Dance Studio. Roxy’s been baking up a storm for the past few days.” He gives a slight wink.
“Dude, I know where Roxy is—” I stop short. I get it. Someone has to get those sweet treats to the dance studio, and I know just who it is. “Thanks, man.” I slap him over the arm. “I owe you one.”
The elevator is three floors from where I need it to be so I fly down the stairs. I jump into my truck, punch the studio into my GPS, and take off for the fastest route that leads to Scarlett. The interstate is crowded, which exemplifies the fact there are far too many people in this world. I squint into the sun as a semi glides into my lane from the left, nearly clipping my front end. I circle around him, ready to gift the guy the finger or lay on my horn, both if I’m lucky until I spot a car up ahead wobbling from side to side. A black Jeep that looks startlingly familiar sprays little rubber birds into the air as a tire shreds on the driver’s side.
“What the—shit, that’s her.” I cut the semi off and land to her left, honking my ass off while carefully forcing her onto the shoulder. Scarlett comes to an abrupt stop, and I swoop my truck in front of hers before jumping out.
“Rex?” She slams the door and runs in my direction. I meet her halfway and collapse my arms around her, dropping a hard kiss to the top of her head. Her heart drums so hard and fast against mine I can taste her fear. I walk us over to the passenger’s side of my truck, away from the speeding cars around us, away from the rest of the world. Her eyes lock with mine, and I bring my lips close to hers, and she gives the slightest nod. My mouth crashes over hers the way I’ve wanted to for the last few weeks, the way I’ve dreamed of, fantasized, wished for right down to the bone. I’m not leaving her. I’m not letting go.
Her chest bucks as she kisses me back, her tongue determined yet soft against my own.
“Rex.” She pulls her lips across my face and pants hard into my ear. “How did you know I was here? What happened to my car? It’s like it was possessed!”
I cup her face in my palms and steady my gaze over her beautiful features. I’ve been so thirsty for her, to hold her, to see her, and now all I can do is drink her down.
“You have a flat. Cole hinted at where you might be. Roxy might kill him if she finds out.”
We share a quiet laugh.
“She won’t kill him. In fact, I’ll bake him his favorite treat.” Scarlett hikes up on her toes and wraps her arms around my neck. “In fact, I’ll bake you yours—only I have no clue how to make donuts. How about we hit Auntie’s and we can talk?” Her mouth rounds out. “Oh my gosh, I almost totally forgot. I have a delivery for a wedding, and I need to be there like now.”
“Then let’s get there like now.” I steal a kiss off her lips before pulling back. That pained look in my eyes takes over again because I never want to cause this beautiful woman one ounce of pain. “I love you. Please, forgive me for being an ass. My life without you is a dark, cold place that stinks of old sweat socks and body odor.”
“So, basically, without me, you morph into the men’s locker room?”
“Exactly.” My lips find hers once again. “Let’s get this cupcake show on the road.”
We take the cooler from her car, and I drive us down to the dance studio while Scarlett calls the Auto Club to tow her car to the nearest shop.
“What were you doing on the highway?” I ask as I help her set the display before the guests arrive, which according to the wedding coordinator, spazzing like a fire alarm, is any minute.
Scarlett shrugs. “Getting over my fears. And, apparently, gaining new ones. I’m officially petrified of ever getting a flat again.”
“Don’t be. It’s a rare event, and you pulled over to the shoulder like a pro.”
She crimps a smile. “Like a pro being rammed to the side by a hot quarterback. I’d say that was an act of God if I’ve ever seen one.” Her mouth opens wide. “Hey! That totally was an act of God!” She bites down on her bottom lip, still holding a perfectly frosted cupcake in her hand. “Do you think we’re meant to be, Rex? Like, you know, destiny and all of those good yet slightly unbelievable things?”
“Yes.” I don’t hesitate. “When our parents introduced us last summer, I thought to myself they have it wrong. They shouldn’t be dating. We should.” A deep sigh expels from my chest as I help her set out the very last row. “We were meant to be, Scarlett, but it’s not because some silly fortuneteller whispered it into my ear or I read it off the palm of my hand. I know we’re meant for each other because I can feel it right here.” I bury my fingers in my chest. “My heart whispers it every damn day. I know this much is true.”
Scarlett gives a slow nod, her eyes never leaving mine. She wraps her arms around me, and we share a kiss that has the ability to turn each one of those pearly white cupcakes a blushing shade of pink.
/> She pulls her lips over to my ear. “I love you, Rex Toberman. I really do.”
We clean up quickly and move toward the front of the establishment where the wedding is underway. Standing at the front of an elaborate floral arch are Izzy and Holt all decked out in their wedding finery. Her dress is full and wide like a cartoon Cinderella with the bell hoopskirt and tiny waist.
“God, she’s so beautiful!” Scarlett whispers, pulling us behind the last row of ladder back chairs as we watch the nuptials taking place. “She looks like a fairy princess. I totally want a baby’s breath wreath at my wedding. And Holt looks like Prince Charming. I’m dying here.”
“Don’t die,” I whisper hot into her ear. “I’ll need to see you with that wreath in your hair.” I give a little wink. “I’ll be standing next to you, of course, so I’ll have the best view in the room.”
“It’ll be outdoors.” She winks back. “There will probably be a compound bow or two involved.”
“I’m not wearing an apple on my head.”
A woman seated in front of us turns around and lands a finger to her lips. I give Scarlett’s waist a squeeze, and we strum out a silent laugh. We watch as the minister announces the two of them as husband and wife, and they happily trot down the aisle.
“That was beautiful.” Scarlett sniffles as tears glisten in her eyes. “So?” She nods up at me, and I have a feeling I know where this is going. “You want to head to the nearest donut shop and you can try to talk your way out of this sticky hole?”
My gut twists just thinking about how to do just that. “No,” I flatline, and her eyes grow wide by a mile. “I think we should head to the Black Bear for dinner. And I think I know just who we need to invite to join us.”
The Black Bear is back to its pre-summer population now that school begins in two short weeks. I’m pretty psyched about the games, but I’m even more excited about spending time with the gorgeous redhead I’ve somehow coerced back to my side.