******
I’ve met Mrs. Reid a million times before, of course. Breakwater is small and she’s on the PTA, plus she owns a bakery in town that everyone buys their baked goods from. The front door opens before Luke can insert his key, and all five foot nothing of the tiny woman rushes out to meet us.
“Thank god you’re here! There’s a huge snowstorm on its way in. I was worried you were gonna get stuck.” She grabs a fistful of Luke’s shirt and tugs him down to hug her slim frame before he can even open his mouth. Locked in her embrace, he groans, but it’s all for show. His mom fixes eyes with me over his shoulder and smiles. “Iris Breslin, you look more like your father every day. Come here.” She pulls me into a tight hug, too, startling me.
No one, no one, in Break ever speaks to me about my father, let alone tells me I look like him. A lump bobs in my throat. They feel to me like the kindest words she could possibly have said.
“Good to see you, Mrs. Reid,” I wheeze. The little woman has a strong grip on her. She draws back, holding me at arms’ length, studying me. Her brown eyes are the same color as Luke’s. Just as warm.
“Don’t be silly. You’re not in school anymore. You can call me Laney. Come on, come in before you two catch pneumonia.”
The house smells like cinnamon and fresh pine, two aromas that probably shouldn’t go together but do. There’s a stack of mail by the front door, unopened, and an ironing board propped against a closet in the entryway. Laney leads us into the kitchen where she’s obviously been folding laundry. There is a neat stack of clothes on the kitchen table, a huge pine thing that dominates the room. You can tell that this is the hub of the house, as any baker’s kitchen should be. The place is lived in, welcoming—a home. My mind instantly flickers to my mom’s sterile brownstone and I can’t help but make the comparison. Her place reflects how cold and empty my mom is, whereas Luke’s family home is a reflection of Laney, loving and warm.
“Dinner will be ready in an hour. Why don’t you two grab a beer and keep me company while I finish up?” She points at the basket of unfolded clothing at her feet. Luke glances at me—is this okay?— before I nod and sit myself down in at the kitchen table. He smiles a little, slings his coat over the back of a chair opposite and makes his way over to the fridge.
“Why don’t you grab me one, too, son?” Laney says. She hands me an armful of washing, winking, including me in her chore. The gesture is small and might have annoyed some people, but it’s a kind thing to do. She is giving me a purpose, telling me I am welcome, accepting me, even if she doesn’t realize I’m having sex with her son. I pick up a t-shirt and start folding, smiling.
Luke raises an eyebrow when he sees me. He sets down three beers and then proceeds to smack the caps off on the edge of the worn table. Laney doesn’t seem to mind. My mom would freak if I put down a bottle without a coaster, let alone tried to open it on the countertop. “I see you’re putting your guests to good use, Mom. What did your other slave die of? Where is my little sister, anyway?”
“Staying with friends tonight. She didn’t know you were coming back. You’ll see her in the morning, though.” Laney pulls on her beer between folding, taking a surprisingly big draught. Luke makes an awkward face.
“Ah, actually, I was gonna stay up at Brandon’s place with Avery. Just to make sure she’s not snowed in in the morning.”
Laney puts down her beer bottle, looking from her son to me and back again. “Neither of you are staying up at that place. What if I’m snowed in in the morning?”
“Uhhh… well…” Luke is a little lost for words.
I don’t know why but I find myself telling her, “That’s okay, I’d love to stay.”
Laney nods, like it was already a foregone conclusion. “Good. I’ve made up the bed in your room, Luke. You can both go dump your stuff in a moment before I serve dinner.”
Luke and I exchange glances but don’t say a word. When Laney is done with the laundry, we do as she suggested and go to drop our overnight bags in Luke’s room. And there it is: his double bed, freshly made, two towels folded neatly on top of it, a spare toothbrush still in the packaging on top of the pink one. Clearly meant for me.
“I thought you said you hadn’t told her anything,” I hiss, whacking his arm. Luke shakes his head.
“I swear I didn’t. She just knows things. She’s like freaking yoda. I got away with nothing as a kid.”
Dinner is surprisingly easy to get through, considering. Laney talks endlessly about Luke’s sister, Emma, and that is another kindness on her part. She knows without being told that I don’t want to talk about Brandon sitting in a jail cell as we enjoy our beer and homemade lasagna, and also somehow knows the topic of my fragile relationship with Luke is off the table, too. He was right; the woman really does just know things. The only sore topic she brings up is my mother.
“I hear Amanda’s on her way, then,” she announces casually, but I’d have to be blind to miss the curious look in her eye. She’s watching me, waiting to see how I will react. It is public record that my mom up and abandoned me to move to the city as soon as humanly possible after my dad died. No one really asked me whether her actions bothered me, though. That’s what Laney is doing when she watches me now. She is asking to see if my mom’s presence is okay, if I am okay with her showing up.
“Uh, yeah. She’s catching a red eye first thing.” I take a long drink from my bottle to hide my discomfort. “I didn’t even know she was my uncle’s lawyer, to be honest.”
“Yes, well. I’m pretty sure your mother would jump through a burning ring of fire for Brandon, sweetie.”
That comment catches me off guard. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing. They were close in high school is all. Inseparable, in fact. I always thought your mom had a bit of a thing for Brandon. Mind you, your mom and dad, plus Melanie and Brandon, all four of them were thick as thieves. We could never really work out who was with who half the time.”
“Mom!” Luke looks horrified. The casual way she imparts the information that my mom might have had a thing with Brandon once upon a time makes it sound completely obvious. The look on her face says so, too. She puts down her fork and grins at Luke.
“Son, I didn’t raise you to be a prude. In fact I know you’re not, so you just calm yourself. I’m not speaking ill of the dead. Melanie and Max were good people. I think they just married wrong is all.”
I pick up a forkful of lasagna, my eyes on my plate. “I’m not sure Brandon and my mom are as close as you remember them, Laney. I don’t think she speaks to him unless it’s about me. And that’s not very often.” The email she sent me and copied Brandon into was testimony to that. She couldn’t even be bothered to write him a separate message.
“Pain does strange things to people, darling girl. Just because Amanda distances herself from people doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about them.” The hidden message in that statement is barely hidden at all. I almost choke on my food with how badly I want to laugh. I manage to hold it in, though. Laney is just trying to be nice, and I don’t want to offend her. Or scandalize her with the news that my mother now prefers women over men. We eat our meal and then Luke and I wash the dishes while Laney watches The Voice. Every minute or so Luke brushes a hand across my back, tucks my hair back out of my eyes, touches me in some way to let me know he’s there and everything is normal.
And it is normal. It’s how life should be, doing domesticated things as part of a family. It’s nice, and almost takes my mind off Brandon and my dad and the nightmare waiting for me when I get back to Columbia. I mean, shit. I have Tate’s funeral to attend, Morgan to comfort, and Noah to deal with. Oh God, Noah. I haven’t even had time to think about the drugs.
Even my worry over that can’t keep my awake, though. I last twenty minutes on the sofa before my eyelids start to grow heavy. The next thing I know, Luke is laying me down carefully on his bed, his tongue poking out in concentration as he tries to put me d
own without disturbing me.
“Sorry. I carried you through, I didn’t think you’d wake up.”
“It’s okay, I need to get changed out of these clothes anyway.” Groggily I get up and rifle through my bag until I realize that in my rush I didn’t pack anything to sleep in.
“You need a t-shirt or something?” Luke is right behind me, incredibly close.
“I, uh—yeah that would be good, thanks.” Instead of racing away, my heart thumps hard in my chest, making my head swim a little. Everything is so different with him, now. I’m hyper aware of him. Whenever he’s in the room, my skin prickles with the knowledge that he’s close by.
His eyes pick me apart as I wait for him to grab me something to wear. A small smile ticks at the corner of his mouth.
“What?”
“Nothing.” His smile transforms into a full on smirk. “Here, wear this one.” He tugs the t-shirt he is wearing right off his back and tosses it at me. I catch it out of the air, mouth hanging open a little. The black fabric is warm and smells deliciously of him.
“Really?” I laugh.
He nods. “Really.” I try not to gawp at him, his bare chest, packed muscle over his stomach and rippling over his tattooed shoulders as he walks slowly towards me. The way he moves is predatory, like I’m a frightened deer likely to bolt before he reaches me. Maybe in some ways I am. It’s still so strange to be with him like this.
“Are you gonna put that on?” A wicked look glints in his eye.
“Maybe. If I can get some privacy.”
I’m totally playing and he knows it, which is why he pretends to pout as he says, “Don’t worry, I won’t look. Your modesty will be entirely preserved.”
I unbutton my jeans and shimmy them down, never breaking eye contact with him. He’s good, I’ll give him that. I know for a fact I’m wearing my nice underwear today, the lacy stuff. Miracle upon miracles, I’m wearing a matching bra, too. That never usually happens. As I pull my top off over my head, I sense him watching my every move. Sure enough, his dark eyes are burning into my skin. I thread my arms into his t-shirt and pull it on, enjoying the smell of him as I do so. I barely have time to gather my hair out of the shirt before he lunges for me, grabbing hold of my waist.
“I’m sorry, that just has to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“What, a girl in your clothes?”
“You in my clothes,” he whispers back. His mouth is on mine before I can say another word. I might have been sleepy twenty seconds ago, but now I’m suddenly very awake. I tangle my hands into Luke’s hair and he lets out a low growl. That small sound sends a bolt of heat shooting through my body and pooling somewhere a couple of degrees south of my waistline. I melt into him and he catches me up, lifting his shirt that I now wear so he can palm my butt cheeks. I never knew someone grabbing my ass could turn me on so damn much. My breathing is ridiculously fast, matching his. Luke reaches up and grabs my hair, winding it around his fist. He tips my head back and starts kissing my neck, his other hand sliding up underneath the t-shirt. I gasp when he fingers begin tracing the cup of my bra.
“Luke! Luke, your mom!” He stops long enough to meet my eyes, and I know there is no point protesting any further. Desire, animalistic and undeniable, gazes back at me. This is happening, and I want it to. Badly. “Fuck it.”
A scandalous grin spreads across Luke’s face. He reaches down and hooks his hands beneath my thighs, lifting me up in one smooth movement so that I’m wrapped around his waist.
“I’m sorry, no matter how much this turns me on, the shirt has gotta go,” he groans. I have just enough time to lift my arms before he rips his shirt off my body, making me squeak a little. Not sexy at all, but Luke doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy devouring my cleavage with his eyes. His pure lust makes me uncharacteristically brave. I hook my thumbs under my bra straps and tug them forward, biting my bottom lip.
“Want me to lose this, too?” I run my hands down over the front of my bra and Luke’s whole body shakes. His erection presses insistently into my stomach, even more evident when he takes three large steps and slams me roughly up against the wall.
“You’re asking for trouble, y’know that?”
I do know. And I’m not asking. I’m begging. “Please, Luke. Tell me what you want.”
Then something happens. A shadow flashes across his eyes. Hesitancy? He pulls back a little. Takes a deep breath. I’m losing him. What the hell? No freakin’ way. I reach around and unclasp my bra, sliding the straps off my shoulders. Luke sucks in another deep breath, except this one isn’t cautious. It’s urgent. Desperate.
“Ave, you’re so beautiful. I can’t wait…” He dips his head and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, running his tongue over and over the hardened tip. I arch my back, curving into him, just as desperate myself. I fumble between us, struggling with his belt. Takes me two attempts before I have it undone and yanked out of his jeans entirely. After that I make short work of his pants, pushing them down over his hips.
“I want you inside me, Luke. Now.”
Those must be the magic words. Luke doesn’t even bother pulling my panties down. He rips them off me like they’re made out of tissue paper, not incredibly expensive lace, and then they’re gone. I’d be annoyed if I weren’t as frantic as he is. He slides a hand down the front of his boxers and then I feel him against me. Holy shit, he’s going to…
My mind goes blank. He pushes inside me, and in this position I’m so stretched and completely full. My nerve endings fire delicious darts of heat through me, scattering any hope I might have of coherent thought. Luke makes a pained noise in the back of his throat and stills his body.
“Are you okay?” he whispers. My whole body has gone stiff. Then I realize—he thinks he’s hurting me. I can’t answer him. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck again and smash my lips to his, breathing heavily into his mouth instead. I can’t help it; I have to move. I start rocking up and down on him, using the wall as leverage.
“Avery! Fuck!”
This is all I need to hear. It hasn’t escaped me that Luke hasn’t put a condom on, but at this exact second in time I couldn’t care less. He feels incredible. I tighten my legs around him, riding him harder.
“Come inside me, Luke. I want to feel you come.”
Luke pulls back to look at me, fixes me with his eyes. “Are you sure?”
I nod, clinging to him, forcing him inside me as hard as I can. “I want you. I want to feel everything.”
And he so does.
Twenty Eight
Sucker Punch