The entire next week goes in that same direction sans the hot “conversation” I initiated last weekend. Down at the club it’s all the same, me with a different pastel negligee, and Morgan as the happy bouncer who has unwittingly garnered a harem. It’s safe to say more than a few girls have taken to his drop-dead gorgeous features, those dimples that could each hold an ocean, his rippling abs, the biceps that frame him out so fantastically. A person might throw herself off the platform a time or two just to have him catch her. And it’s happened. The way the girls fly into his arms after faking a shoe malfunction, you’d think there was a bona fide mosh pit waiting below. I bet they all think I was faking it that first night too.
He nods over to me through the throngs in thongs, and I give a little wave. He hasn’t made one move since that night we were together, and I can’t figure out why. Not that I mind too much. Rutger and I are back on, sort of. He said he wanted to catch a bite tonight, but I had to take a rain check. I told him I had to tend to my “sick” sister, which isn’t a far stretch from the truth. I’m pretty sure telling him I’m a dancer will end it for us on every level.
Woody Bates sweeps by and before I can stop him he wraps his arms around my waist and gives me a twirl. He’s made it a regular practice to accost me just a little bit more each night this week.
“Switching it up tonight?” I glance down at his beer. Usually he relegates himself to the hard stuff, but tonight the only stiff one he’s sporting happens to be stashed in his chinos.
“That’s right, baby.” He lets out a riotous whoop. “Just like I’m switching this up tonight.” He plants a live one on my lips, and I push at his chest to break free from his gorilla-like grip.
“Hey!” Morgan pops up from nowhere and plucks him off. He decks him in the face so hard, blood shoots from his nose like a faucet. “No touching the girls, asswipe.”
Bates rolls around on the floor a moment before Dell shows up and helps him to his feet.
“Fuck.” Dell’s eyes bulge from his head, debuting those bullfrog genes I’ve always suspected he’s had. Too bad for Tess; kissing this frog will only leave her with genital warts. The only Prince Charming I see around here is Morgan.
Morgan leans in, ready for a fight, but Dell holds him back from inflicting any more damage. Woody’s nose hangs crooked as blood continues to trickle down the side of his face.
“Dude, you fucking broke it.” Woody spits it out through his crimson-stained teeth. He cuts me a look as he makes his way past the bar. “You’re going to pay for this.”
Dell gives Morgan a firm shove into the stage. “You treat my customers like that? You can’t go rearranging faces each time someone gets a little frisky. That’s the name of the fucking game.” Dell knots up Morgan’s T-shirt and slams him against the wall. “Now get the hell out before the cops get here. I don’t want any trouble. Consider it a night off.” He shifts his gaze over to me, his greasy long hair falling in pieces over his eyes. “Control your boyfriend, would you?” He takes off in the direction of Woody, who deserved a broken nose to begin with.
“Boyfriend, huh?” Morgan’s dimples dig in mockingly.
“He knows we commute.” I shrug. And flirt, but I leave that part out.
“Anyway, I’m ready to call it a night.” I reach down and pluck off my heels. “My feet are killing me.”
“After you.” He motions toward the door.
I run back and snatch my duffle bag from out of my locker. I don’t dare try and change and glean the wrath of Tess for leaving early. There are at least a dozen extra girls on tonight, so it’s not like anyone will ever notice I’m gone.
It’s cool outside, with a warm wind that perks up every now and again to remind us it’s the middle of July. The moon shines bright, bleaching the color right out of the world.
“You wanna go for a drive before heading home?” Morgan glows against the night sky like ivory, his eyes outshining the heavenly expanse, pale as pebbles. There’s something pure about him, humble. Odd, I don’t find those qualities in Rutger, and I don’t know why. Maybe because he hasn’t had the chance to wrestle me free from anaconda-like frat boys. If Morgan keeps saving me I’m going to believe he’s my knight in shining armor. Already a part of me does.
“A drive sounds great,” I say, glancing down at my non-accoutrements. “Hope you don’t mind me in my PJs—less than my PJs, actually.” I hold out my hands at the silver babydoll negligee with the back fully exposed. I wish I could say I was ashamed, that I had the urge to cover myself up in a hurry, but Morgan has seen me in this same uniform for the past two weeks. I’m sure we’re past the boner-inducing stage of our relationship.
“You can make a grown man cry in your PJs, darling.” He gives the hint of a lewd grin. “If you’re okay with it so am I.”
We hop in his truck and drive down about two miles before he takes the turnoff to Charleston Beach. We descend the hillside to the parking lot and jump out of the truck into the salty breeze. The sand is so white it glows under the low lamp of the moon. The moonlight makes the beach look otherworldly, as if we were standing on another planet entirely.
“It’s so beautiful here,” I say, leaning into him. Morgan throws a beach towel over my shoulders as we make our way down to the waterline. The sound of the ocean lapping the shore crushes our eardrums with its constant thunder. It’s barren here, just Morgan and me, the moon, and the incoming tide.
“How about here?” Morgan pulls me in, covering my back with his warm arms, and I sink into him, touching my hand to his blessed-by-God face.
“Here’s perfect.” I want to say anywhere with you is perfect. It’s true. Morgan brightens my day whenever he’s around. He’s even made it a point to visit me at Starbucks a few times this week, though Blair tried to hijack him a time or two. I guess he’s got to have a life too. My stomach boils, corrosive as battery acid at the thought of him having any kind of life with Blair Lancaster, of all people.
“So what’s new?” he asks as we take a seat.
I adjust the towel under my bottom. I’m not too interested in digging sand out of places sand should never visit.
“What’s new with you?” I shoulder bump him as we watch the surf foam up like a milk spilling over the sand.
“I asked first,” he says. The words drum out of his chest and reverberate up my arm. The moon rains down its beams and bleaches all of the color from his face, giving him all of the sex appeal of an old-time movie star. It feels surreal to be at the beach like this with Morgan. We’ve become the stars of our own silent movie.
“I was thinking about Ruby a lot today.” My heart sings just saying her name.
“I bet you miss her.” He leans into me and touches his warm shoulder to mine. “Tell me about her.” Morgan wraps an arm around my shoulder and shelters me from the breeze, from the biting sand needling against my flesh.
“She’s amazing. She has the most vivid imagination. Everything is one ongoing story with her. One minute we’re at the park and the next she has us surrounded with unicorns and fairies. She talks a mile a minute, but I never mind that. In fact, I welcome it. It sort of fills the void when we’re apart.”
His arm drops to my waist and he pulls me in, settling his face in my hair a moment.
“She sounds amazing.” His breath heats my neck, and I sigh into him.
“She is. Maybe one day you can see for yourself.” My heart races at the prospect of Morgan meeting Ruby. I don’t tell him I’ve never brought anyone to meet her before. That our outings have always been exclusively relegated to Mommy-and-me dates. But then again, the Christies have always said anyone is welcome and Tess has come to every one of Ruby’s birthday parties, mostly for moral support, but that’s beside the point. Ruby loves Auntie Tess plenty too.
“I’d love to meet her.” Morgan presses his lips into the side of my cheek, as naturally as the breeze licking
the shore. I like it this way with Morgan. It feels comfortable, safe. “Maybe we can get some pictures of the two of you, enough to fill that album you’re missing. We can make a day out of it.” Everything in me warms at the thought of Morgan wanting to spend the day with me and Ruby.
“Really?” I fall back on my elbow and pull him down with me.
“Really.” He reaches up and traces out the side of my face. “Don’t look so surprised. I love spending time with you. You’ve made this summer totally worth the trip. If it wasn’t for you I’d go batshit listening to the percussion going on next door. Not to mention my mom’s been so busy with the wedding that I’ve hardly seen her.” Morgan scoots in until the heat from his body sears over mine. He touches his hand to my hip and leans in further, his lips just a breath away from mine.
My heart pounds so hard I’m sure he can feel it, hear it. Why do I get the feeling Morgan and I just took a turn for the serious, or are about to?
His lips trace over mine, driving me insane the way they feather over my skin, and I give a heated breath.
“Um.” I clear my throat and lean back a bit. “Tell me something about yourself.”
Morgan shelters me from the wind as I nestle in his arms. It feels good like this with Morgan, safe.
“You know all of my secrets,” I say, “and I don’t know any of yours.”
“Do I know all of your secrets?” He sweeps me with his gaze as if he suspects cobwebs hidden in the recesses of my past—that the closet of my life still has a corpse or two hanging from a noose.
“I do have a secret.” He warms my cheek with his breath.
“Let me guess. You try on Kendall’s high heels when she’s not looking?” I tease, running my finger over his cheek, coarse as sandpaper.
“I wish it were that simple.” His features darken. “Actually, Kendall doesn’t know this and neither does my mom. I don’t mind telling you, though.”
I clasp the back of his neck and trace out small circles over the nape, encouraging him to go on. Morgan is all too serious and it frightens me on some level.
“Back home, in Oregon, there was this girl…” He pauses and my heart drops into the pit of my stomach. “We weren’t serious or anything like that, but we were fooling around, and I may have gotten her pregnant. It’s a mess. Right now she’s engaged to someone else, and there are DNA tests waiting to be done. She swears I’m the only other option. I should get the results in a couple of weeks. She wants to wait until the baby’s born, and deal with it then.”
A breath gets caught in my throat.
“Oh my God.” I wrap my arm around his neck. “I’m so sorry. I mean, I’m sorry you’re going through this alone. I’m glad you told me. This must be so hard for you.”
He looks down and shakes his head. “I feel like an ass for saying anything. She doesn’t want me around. The idiot she’s with even tried to buy me out of the picture. But if that baby’s mine, I’m all in; there’s no way they’re keeping me from its life.” His smile is layered with pain and my heart shatters for him.
“Morgan.” I tighten my grip as he pulls me over to his lap. “I’m proud of you. You’re a man for wanting to be in that baby’s life.” My lids grow heavy because he must think I’m inhuman for walking away from Ruby.
“Thank you.” He bows his head a moment. “And”—the whites of his eyes expand—“in no way am I judging you for choosing adoption. In fact, I think you’re a hero, Ally, and I’m proud of you.”
A line of fire burns through me as Morgan plants a careful kiss on my forehead. My eyes glitter up with tears, and I do my best to blink them away.
“You’re going to make a great dad someday. I already know this.”
He presses out a grin that ignites me like a flame and everything in me burns to have him.
“And you’re an excellent mother, Ally. I can already see that.”
“I haven’t been able to give Ruby anything.” I touch my cheek to his chest and look up.
“Life isn’t about things, Ally.” His eyes drill into mine as if he’s speaking in far broader terms. “It’s about love, about building relationships and helping people. You did a lot more for that little girl than buy her a swing set or a teddy bear, you gave her a life. And, you’re lucky because you still get to be in it. That’s pretty special.”
There, he’s done it. Morgan Jordan has galvanized himself over the framework of my life as a savior, a god, a counselor—all of the above. He’s so much more than a friend, but I know that we can never be together. It would never work. The bouncer and the dancer—we’re almost laughable to everyone in the free world, for sure to the people at Garrison if they ever found out. But they’re not here tonight, and neither is anyone else.
“Morgan?”
“What’s that?” He whispers it low, directly in my ear, and chills of excitement tingle up my spine.
“I think we should revisit our dirty little secret.”
His dimples invert with approval. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Morgan
The warm breeze feels downright tropical as I hold Ally in my arms on a white sandy beach at midnight. It would figure that the one time in weeks she suggests we replicate the mattress magic, I’m deficient a love glove.
Shit.
“Let’s get back to the house.” I rock her in my arms, trying to coax her into my line of thinking. “I’ve got ways to make our secret feel a hell of a lot dirtier.” I whisper it hot in her ear and her neck arches back, driving me insane.
Actually, I don’t have any new ideas but I predict I’ll think up about a dozen on the drive home. I’d hate to miss out just because of some sophomoric blunder.
“I like it here.” She bites down over her cherry lip, and my gut pinches tight. Her eyes sparkle in this dim light like embers. Ally sizzles right off the sand, hotter than a bonfire.
“Here?” Thought so. I pull her over me and ride my hand up her thigh. “I don’t have anything with me,” I confess. “Do you?” I doubt Ally routinely packs ammo for her night at the club. Deep down I know for a fact Ally Monroe is a good girl.
Her mouth rounds out in a perfect O as she catches on to our preventative predicament.
Ally reaches down and rides her hand over the bulge in my jeans as if to say, procreation be damned.
“Look”—I give a gentle laugh while tracing the outline of her features—“it’s not like me to stop the train from pulling into the station, but I think maybe we’ve got too many offspring, or potential ones at best, floating around between us. There’s no way I’m playing Russian roulette with my boys again.”
A soft laugh bubbles from her. Her chest heaves in a series of intoxicating ripples, and I’m transfixed by her beauty. Ally lies over the beach like a fabled princess who has no idea she’s royalty.
I press a kiss over her ear before running my tongue along the rim and she groans.
“There are a few other things I can think of to keep us entertained,” I whisper, gently rolling her onto her back.
Ally gives an impish smile with her hair spilling around her like a lion’s mane. She looks like a girl, a teenager, and for a minute I try to imagine that we’re both in high school, innocent as the day is long, about to share our love with one another for the very first time.
I lean in and brush my lips over hers. Ally opens her mouth for me, but I stroke her lips with my breath until she reels from the effect. Ally pulls me down by the back of the neck and crushes into me with a mouthwatering kiss that makes my insides ache. I can’t recall who I shared my first kiss with, but this one, this kiss has already bookmarked itself in my memory as an all-out fucking luxury that I can only hope to replicate time and time again. Ally is a rare treasure—one I’m not sure I’ll be partaking in ever again. She’s a take-it-or-leave-it kind of girl, and I’ll take it every single time. I’m just afraid the
invite might not be available in the future. I wish it were. I wish what we have could withstand the promise of a thousand tomorrows. I’d do anything to make that happen. That idea I had earlier while scoping out Cal’s basement comes back full throttle, and I’m half tempted to bring it up, but not stupid enough to take a break in the action.
Nope. My ingenious idea will have to wait for later. Hell, I might even spring it on her last minute. I have a feeling it’s going to take all of Garrison University by storm. We’ll be swimming in dollar bills before summer is up. I’ll make sure she has more than enough to pay for her fall semester and a new place to stay. Maybe then she’ll take me seriously. Move me from the fuck-buddy shelf to the potential partner in lifelong crime arena. Although I’m pretty sure I need to cut the word “crime” from my lexicon whether it’s a euphemism or not. It’s baby steps with Ally, though, ironically, not when our bodies are involved.
I hike up on my elbow, and run my hand over her smooth-as-butter stomach. Slowly I inch my way north and she moans herself into a beautiful oblivion. Ally tries to pull me back down, her mouth open and waiting for mine, but I forgo the offer. I have a few other places I’d like to land my lips tonight, and I plan to explore them soon.
The ocean rushes the shore with its rocketing affection and touches the outer edge of our towel, but I ignore the threat for now. So the ocean’s a little bit wet. Who the hell cares? I’m more into whether Ally is wet, and I’m determined to make sure the answer is hell fucking yes. I slip my hand beneath the split in the barely there lace number she’s wearing and cup her breast in my hand, more than a handful and so fucking soft. It takes all of my restraint to not to bite down like I want to. Nope, this is all about her tonight.
Her smile fades. She runs her tongue over her bottom lip as if she’s worked up an appetite. Ally glimpses up at me with her smoldering eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone the way I want Ally. Maybe because deep inside I know I can never have her, that I’ll never be good enough on an economic scale for her to consider me an option.