All It Takes (16 page)

Bruiser’s tail wags back and forth, his doggie smile widening as he realizes he’s gotten my attention. His tail thumps against the wall beside the door, and he pulls himself up out of his seated position just as I smile down at him.

Then I reach over, grab the door and close it gently in his face.

Ash

I
bark out a laugh as Bruiser lets out a tiny whimper of confusion on the other side of the door, and turn to Star, raising my eyebrows.

“What?” she says, leaning back against the door, all long limbs and glistening skin. “I’m not letting your dog watch us, you perv.”

“Hey,” I say, and take a step toward her. I want to touch that skin, run my hands all over it. It’s irresistible. “I’ll have you know that Bruiser is a gentleman and a scholar. He would never—” But Star cuts me off before I can finish bullshitting.

“I caught him trying to hump the blow-up Santa in the backyard yesterday,” she says. She’s rolling her eyes but she’s still reaching for me as I get closer. The second my hands touch her skin, rub against it, she seems to almost melt. I press my lips against her throat and her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling at it. God. Damn. This feels good. But it’s Star, and like hell I’m going to give up a chance to bullshit with her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, kissing my way up her neck, lingering at her jaw. “Bruiser would never do such a thing.”

She tugs harder on my hair, hard enough that I pull back to look at her. She’s smirking at me. “I also caught him humping the stuffed frog you threw out on Tuesday. Your argument is invalid. Now take off your pants.”

Okay. Maybe I’ll let the bullshitting go. Just this once.

I reach for my belt. “Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

“Wait,” she says, and suddenly my hands aren’t alone, they’re tangled with hers, and her sweet mouth is pressing against my throat. “Let me help.”

I groan and let my head fall back. Fuck. This girl is going to be the death of me. My belt loosens and my jeans drop to the floor next to her shirt. I tilt my head forward and catch her mouth with mine again, tangling my tongue with hers as I reach up and slide my fingers into her hair. It’s thick and silky and it twists between my fingers, almost like it has a mind of its own, like it’s drawing me in. And
goddamn,
she tastes good. Like the lemonade she was drinking with dinner, and the spearmint gum she chews until it seems like her jaw will crack from it. And something that’s just Star and Star alone. I’ve never tasted anything like it. I’ve always been shit with words, but I’m pretty sure this is what
intoxicating
means.

It’s rivaling every high I’ve ever fucking had.

Goddamn.

My cock is hard enough to pound nails, and I know she can feel it, the way she’s rubbing her belly against it. I just want to reach down and pick her up, toss her on the mattress behind me and fall down there after her. But she’s two steps ahead of me, and I’ve just barely felt the brush of the mattress against the back of my ankle when I’m suddenly horizontal and she’s standing over me, looking gorgeous and goddamn triumphant.

Jesus.

“So,” she says, reaching down and popping open the button of her cutoffs. I want to chase her fingertips with my teeth, but she seems to be enjoying putting on a show for me, so I lean back on my elbows and watch instead. Her hips wiggle a little as she tugs down her shorts. They slide down her legs like magic and I can’t help but fucking groan at the sight. She’s in her bikini top, her little nipples sticking through like hard candies, and she’s wearing these little panties that look like undies that I wore when I was little, all blue and white with stitching made to look like the front flap. They’re riding low on her hips and look so hot on her I could bust. “Any preferences?”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “That’s a loaded question,” I say and she laughs, taking a step and moving forward until she’s got one knee on the mattress, directly between my damn thighs.

Yeah, I’m definitely going to bust. But if I’m lucky, I’m going to make her bust first. I’m reaching for her before I can even decide where to touch, flat on my back, wrapping my hands around her face and tugging her down so I can press my mouth against hers. She’s leaning over me now, her body pressing down against mine, and I can feel her pulse hammering as I slide my hand up her neck. Goddamn. If this is what sober sex is like, I just found another reason not to touch a drop ever again. My hands are in her hair again, and she’s kissing and rubbing up against me like her life depends on it. That’s when my fingers touch the little bow at the back of her neck.

The bikini top.

I grin against her mouth and start working the knot apart with my fingertips. It loosens way easier than I was expecting, and the strings fall from her shoulders without me even having to touch them. I want to touch, though, so I slide my hands down her neck, down her shoulders, until I have my arms wrapped around her. I want to see her. I want to see every single inch of her, but I suddenly feel like it’s a choice between holding onto her or dying, and I can’t make myself stop touching enough to pull back to look.

She’s a million miles ahead of me again, and her other knee shifts so it’s pressing into the mattress at my side, and she’s clutching at my shoulders, pulling me with her as she rolls over.

Suddenly I’m on top of her, pressing down into her hot little body, and somehow that feels better. Like if I pull away she won’t disappear on me. Like she wants me there, on top of her. And I’ll be damned if I’m not willing to give this girl whatever she wants.

Getting my knees under me, I pull back, smiling as she leans into me, chasing the kiss, and look down.

God. Damn.

Her tits are amazing. I’m leaning down and pressing my mouth to them before I can even think. By the way Star moans and arches into me, she has no problem with my actions. She presses closer to me, and I lap at her breast and suck the tip into my mouth as I reach around her body to tug at the knot at her back. I can feel it come loose, feel her bikini fall away, but she’s moaning and writhing, her fingers pulling at my hair as I suck at her, and I’m so hard I’m dripping through my boxers.

I’m going to die from this.

But goddamn, what a way to go.

Star

W
e kiss, chest to chest, and it feels like too much and not enough, all at the same time. I run my hands over his shoulders, cup my palms over the back of his neck, thread my fingers up through his hair. I want to touch
everywhere.
And all at once.

I’m torn between touching forever and rushing full force to the main event, and I press against him as we kiss and kiss and kiss until I can’t stand it anymore. I press my palms against his chest, reveling in the warmth of his skin against mine, and push him away.

He blinks down at me, confused, but I smile and shove him a little farther away, so I have room to move. I turn over onto my belly, and reach across the mattress for the box that I’ve stashed on the other side, the box my no-good interfering roommate sent me. Who I shall love forever and will be given cookies the next time I see her.

I shove the package of markers out of the way, dig past the package of labels and the box of garbage bags, fingers searching and fumbling as I feel Ash’s warm palms cup and squeeze my ass, sending a bolt of heat racing through my entire body. Then finally,
finally
I lay my fingers on what I’m looking for, and snatch it up. I pull myself up to my knees and turn around to face Ash, holding the condom out to Ash in victory.

“That’s
what was in the box from Autumn?” Ash asks, laughing.

My face is on fire. “Shut up,” I say, and toss the condom at him. It hits his chest and falls into his lap before he can catch it. Leaning forward, I press my mouth against his one more time.

“You can either laugh at me,” I say, letting my eyes flutter shut, “or you can put that to good use. What’s it gonna be?”

Suddenly, he’s not laughing anymore. I open my eyes and find him staring down at me, an intensity in his gaze I’ve never seen before. My heart thuds in my chest, heat coiling in my belly, and he reaches out and wraps an arm around my waist, hauling me closer, drawing me into his lap.

This is such a bad idea,
a voice in the back of my mind reminds me.
It’s not going to last. All you’ll wind up with is a handful of memories and a truckload of heartbreak if you let this happen.

Shut up,
I tell the voice as I press my mouth to Ash’s, tangling my fingers in his hair again. He flips me back over so I’m on my back again, his weight a solid, heavy warmth pressing me down into the mattress as he runs his hands over my body.

“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs against the skin of my neck, trailing kisses as he begins to trace a path down the front of my body. I squirm beneath his touch, fisting my hands in his short hair and
tugging.

“Yeah,” I say. “God. Yeah, you, too.” I can’t get enough of him, of his skin against mine. We’re a tangle of hands and arms and flesh gliding hot against flesh, whispered words spoken against sweat and skin.

Then he grabs the condom from where it has fallen in the tangle of blankets, and tears it open as I pull his boxers down his hips. He kicks them off and they go flying over the edge of the bed and disappear from sight just as he reaches down and rolls the condom on. .

And then he’s pressing into me, and it’s hot and slick and a million different feelings all at once.

“Yes.” I breathe the word against his mouth, and as we move together, his lips claim mine once again.

There is no more talking, after that.

***

“So . . . ” Ash says as we lay there afterward, flopped on our backs on the mattress. I’m panting so hard, I can hardly catch my breath. I turn my head and watch as he shifts around so that he’s lying on his side, gazing down at me.

“Mmmhmmm?” This . . . this was amazing. This wasn’t the adolescent fumblings I’d shared with Brick, or the handful of drunken hookups I’d had during freshman year at college. This . . . This was better.

He trails the backs of his fingers up my side. I’m still buzzing with sensation. It feels
amazing.

“I just wanted you to know, that this wasn’t . . . that this wasn’t just . . . you know . . . a one-time thing. At least, for me.” He’s staring down, straight into my eyes, and I feel a warm rush through my chest, giving my heart a little lurch. “It wasn’t for me,” he says again, and reaches up and cradles the side of my head with his hand.

I raise my hand and let my fingertips slide across his cheeks, up to his hairline, to tangle behind his head. And I can’t stop smiling as I pull him down to me. I kiss him, and tug him closer to me, press my body up against him as our mouths move together.

Our lips part and my eyes open and I’m looking straight at him when I answer. “It wasn’t just a one-time thing for me, either.”

A little smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Promise?” he says, but it’s hesitant. Unsure. And his eyes drop from mine. His body tenses. And suddenly I realize that he’s bracing himself for me to shake my head or laugh it off. He’s bracing himself for rejection. My heart does something traitorous in my chest, and I struggle to swallow over the lump that’s forming in my throat.

“Hey,” I say, reaching out and touching the edge of his jaw, tugging his face back up so that he’s looking me in the eye. His gaze flickers back and forth across my face, catching my eyes over and over again as I do the same. I want to look at every bit of him, all at once. I feel like I could look forever, and it still wouldn’t be enough. I lean forward and press my mouth to his. “I promise,” I whisper as we part, and he smiles but even then it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Hey,”
I say again, because he’s not getting it. He doesn’t believe me. So I do the only thing I can; I bring my left hand up between us, holding my pinkie out to him.
That
makes the half-smile he was sporting turn full-fledged, and we’re both grinning like idiots as he reaches up and links his finger with mine and we waggle our linked hands back and forth, cementing the deal.

Then I kiss him again, just to make it official.

Chapter 16

Ash

T
his…this is nice.

Fuck. There’s that word again.
Nice.

Before the crash, before everything that happened and all the shit that followed, I’d never really thought about what I wanted my life to look like. And when I did, what I brought to mind sure as hell wasn’t this. I always thought I’d be some famous goddamn artist, drinking and doing whatever drug I could get my hands on, living my life in the moment.

But this moment, this single snapshot in a day with Star, it’s
nice.
Spending our day together, fucking in her bed, dozing off next to each other. It’s nothing I’d ever thought I’d want for the long term. But now that I have it, I don’t want it to end. Five years ago, if someone had told me that this would be the fucking highlight of my life, I’d have laughed my ass off. I was an idiot five years ago. Star, these moments I have with her? They make me want
more.
They make me want to do better. To
be
better. Hell, just being here with her, walking my stupid mutt down the road with her next to me, it makes something in me
tug.
Like there’s a fishing hook looped behind my navel, and every time she turns her head and smiles at me, I feel drawn toward her, like she’s reeling me in.

We’d woken up this morning like we had for the past two weeks, in bed next to one another, me trailing my hands over her body, though her hair, her nuzzling into my chest, clinging to me like I’m something important. Something special. I’ve never felt special to anyone before. I kissed her head and run my fingers down her naked skin, over all the colors and designs she’d let me mark her with after we’d had sex. Her body was this gorgeous canvas, covered in my sketches. She was fucking
beautiful.

Then she’d yawned and pressed her lips to mine, mumbling something about coffee before pulling herself up and wandering naked into the kitchen, and I’d been struck like lightning with a single thought.

She’s fucking
perfect
for me.

And she is. She really is, and there’s a war waging in my chest, because I know she’s leaving and it’s tearing me up inside.

I’ve finally found the perfect girl for me, and I’m going to have to let her go.

It fucking sucks.

That was hours ago, and I’m still reeling. I don’t know what I’m going to do.

Luckily, though, if Star notices I’m acting different around her, she isn’t saying anything. Instead she smiles at me as we make our way down the street, our fingers tangled together. As we turn the corner, Bruiser tries to make a dash after a giant orange cat that crosses his path, jerking on the leash hard enough that I have to drop Star’s hand and use both of my own just to keep him from racing off after that freaking
giant
cat. Seriously, that damn thing is easily twice the size a cat should be. Apparently the good people of the neighborhood don’t know the word
restraint
when it comes to feeding their pets. The thing practically waddles as it walks. Its tail whipping back and forth in the breeze, almost as if it’s mocking us, and Bruiser starts losing his shit, barking his fool head off as the cat trundles away like it doesn’t have a care in the world. Like it didn’t just almost run out of luck and meet its damn maker.

“Stupid cat,” I mutter, shaking my head as I pull back on Bruiser’s leash. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I tell my dog. “You want to chase the pussy. I don’t blame you.”

Star throws back her head and laughs, and that damn fishing hook sinks into my navel again, tugging me toward her at the sound. I don’t know if it’s the sound of her laugh that does it, or the sight of her dark hair tumbling down her back, or the long pale line of her throat, but either way, I can’t stop myself. I have to touch her. I reach out to snag her hand with my free one again. And she lets me, but then, an instant later, she shoots me a little grin and twists our hands around so that only our pinkies are linked.

Pinkie swear,
I think, and duck my head for a moment, flashing back to our mornings in bed, and how our hands almost seem to gravitate toward each other’s, how our fingers link together in our own little promise, again and again.

I don’t know how I’m ever going to be able to let her go.

Suddenly Star stops walking, and I jerk to a halt beside her.

“Shit,” she murmurs. “Not again.”

My brow furrows, and I glance over at her. She’s staring down the street, toward her mother’s house, face torn between anger and sadness. What the hell?

I turn to look.

There, standing at the end of her mother’s driveway, is a couple. Nosy assholes, just like a few weeks ago.

Star was right. It’s happening again.

Shit.

Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m already moving. My legs are pumping and I can feel my jaw clench as I approach the intruders.

“Hey,” I snap as soon as I get close.
What the hell do you people want?
The words are on the tip of my tongue along with
fuck off,
but as soon as the
hey
is out of my mouth, the couple turns to look at us, and the words die before I can get them out. I recognize them.

They’re from the diner. The skinny waiter and the pregnant waitress. And judging by the looks on their faces, they aren’t here to start trouble like the stuck-up women in the overpriced tracksuits. In fact, now that we’re closer and I can really see them, they actually look a little . . . scared.

Oh,
fan-fucking-tastic,
I think.
More people who think I’m going to run them down in the streets.
But . . . no. Scared isn’t the right word. More . . . timid. Nervous at the very least.

“Can I help you?” I say instead, tugging Bruiser to a stop and twisting my hand around so I can link my fingers properly with Star’s.

“Uh, hi,” the guy says, his gaze darting between me and Star and then finally, after a few passes, back to the pregnant girl beside him. She gives him a wide-eyed
look
from behind her thick-framed glasses that speaks volumes. He shuffles his feet and clears his throat before turning back to us, sinking his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “I’m York, and this is my sister. Um. Maisie.”

He jerks his elbow back toward the girl, who raises a hand and waves awkwardly with a murmured “hello.”

“Um . . . ” I can see how nervous this kid is from here. It’s ridiculous. He’s shaking so bad I could knock him over with a cough. “We were just wondering . . . ” He glances back at his sister, who finally rolls her eyes and tilts her body to look past him, toward us.

“We were wondering if we could take the sofa.”

It takes me way longer than it should to figure out what she’s talking about. Then I realize they’re not looking at the house itself, not pointing and laughing and looking down at it like those women had. Instead they’re looking at the sofa that we’d set out on the curb that afternoon.

“Oh,” I say, and glance back at Star. She’s got her free hand clapped over her mouth, so I can’t see her smile, but it’s shining through clear as day in her eyes. I smile and sink my teeth into my bottom lip, trying to stifle it. The last thing I need is for them to think I’m laughing at them, even though I kind of am. I turn back to Maisie and York, and beside me Bruiser wags his tail so hard I’m sure I’m going to have a bruise on my thigh where it’s thumping over and over. “You want it—” I turn slightly to catch Star’s gaze. She nods and I feel the smile spread across my face as I turn back to Maisie and York. “—it’s all yours.”

One sofa down. Only five more to go. Maybe this wasn`t going to be as bad as I thought.

After that, the tension slowly dwindles and then dies, and we stand there talking and laughing together as the sun sinks below the horizon.

“Look, man,” York says, shifting from foot to foot. I’ve only known this kid for maybe an hour all put together, and I can already tell that he never really settles down. He is always in motion. It is making me fucking dizzy. I want to reach out and grab him by the shoulders and tell him to stay fucking
put.
“I heard about the shit that went down at the diner when you applied. And what happened to your car. I just wanted to say, you know. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” I say, taking a drag of my cigarette and ashing it onto the sidewalk. “Not your fault.”

“Still . . . ” he says, trailing off and bouncing a little bit on the balls of his feet, hands still in his pockets.

“What my brother is trying to say, and
failing,”
Maisie says, shooting the kid a dirty look before shaking her head and turning back to me, “is that we’re sorry you were treated that way.”

“Not super surprised, though,” York adds, helpfully.

We all turn to look at him, and his eyes widen. He pulls his hands out of his pockets and holds them up in front of him, in defense. “Hey, woah, no. No. Not like that.” He turns to me. “I didn’t mean like you
deserved
it or anything. Seriously. I just meant that the people at the diner suck, that’s not news. It isn’t shocking that they’d treat you like that. That’s
all,”
he says, and glares at his sister like
way to throw me under the bus, sis.

I chuckle and take another drag, turning away and blowing the smoke out as far away from the pregnant girl as I can, realizing that smoking in front of her probably isn’t cool. I drop the cigarette onto the ground and stub it out with my toe, hoping that no one notices. I feel like an idiot often enough. No need to draw any more attention to it. Besides, they’re kind enough to take one of the gazillion sofas from the house off our hands—apparently they’re renting a trailer on the other side of town and they need furniture. I don’t want to make things any harder for them. They seem okay in my book.

Star rolls her eyes at us, and turns to say something to Maisie, who has her hands folded on top of her round belly, and I’m halfway through turning back to York to give him a little shit, just for kicks, when I get a jolt.

“Wait,” I say, turning around to face Maisie as the idea turns over in my head and clicks neatly into place. “You’re knocked up, right?”

Jesus, the fucking
looks
all three of them pin me with. Like
you think, dumbass?
I wave my hand at her belly and roll my eyes. “Okay, not actually the point,” I say. “I’m not stupid. I know you aren’t hauling around a beach ball under there.” Though, to be honest, it’s starting to look like it. The girl’s kind of tiny and her belly is getting huge. She looks like she’s at risk of tipping over at any minute.

“What’s your point then?” York says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Good,
I think.
Stick up for you sister. God knows I’d do anything to have family do that for me. Pretty sure Star would, too.

I glance back at Star, and give her a little wink before turning back to the siblings.

“How would you like some diapers?”

***

“Thank you for this,” York says again, after we’ve unloaded the last of the stuff we brought over for them, settling it all into the trailer. “Seriously. Thank you.”

“Seriously, kid. Shut up about it. It’s not a big deal,” I tell him and jerk a thumb toward Star just as she disappears into the other bedroom with Maisie to look at some of the baby stuff or some shit. I don’t know.
Women.
“There was an entire
room
of this shit at her mom’s place.”

“Look,” he says, dumping the last box into the trailer’s second bedroom and shutting the door. “It may not be a big deal to you, but it is to us. My sister can barely afford this place as it is. They pay shit at the diner. I have no idea how she’s going to be able to afford this baby, even with me helping her out. So, no. Not gonna shut up about it. ’Cause it means a lot.”

I can’t help it, I look around the place. It’s kind of a dump, but then, so is the entire trailer park, so for all I know, this one is considered a palace by comparison. Except for my five years away, I’ve spent my entire life in Avenue, and I’ve never set foot in the trailer park before. Everyone pretty much knows it is a shit-hole and stays away.

My mom would be having kittens if she knew I was here.

I can’t even imagine trying to raise a kid here.

“If you don’t mind me asking, where’s the dad?” I say. “I mean, isn’t he going to pitch in?”

York just sort of boggles his eyes at me, like I’m speaking in fucking Chinese or something. “The dad.” He repeats, like the word doesn’t make sense or something, like he’s trying the words out for the first time, seeing how they feel in his mouth.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m pretty sure your sister didn’t climb on top of herself and get herself pregnant.”

He scoffs, and I can tell I’ve touched a nerve. “The dad,” he says, like he’s trying to wrap his mind around just how to put his anger into words. I know the feeling. Anger management helped with that. A little. Mostly it just stopped me from taking my anger out on the few possessions I’d been allowed to keep in prison. Destruction wasn’t the most helpful of coping mechanisms, I was told. “The dad is a fucking piss-ant bitch,” he snaps, and I can’t help the smile that image brings up. This kid is pretty creative with the insults. “Maisie won’t even tell me who it is, you know that?” His eyes are wide and I can see the hurt that lingers behind them.

“Dude, really?” I say, because I’ve seen the lengths this kid will go to for his sister, and the fact that she won’t even tell him who the daddy is, well that’s gotta hurt. “That sucks, man. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not like I’d even care,” he says, throwing his hands out, and
wow.
This kid has been keeping this bottled up for a long-ass time. He’s pissed. He looks like he’s about to start pacing around the trailer. “But she doesn’t want me to know, which means that either she doesn’t want him to find out she’s pregnant, and she’s afraid I’ll go hit the guy up for child support on her behalf or something. Or—” he scrubs his hands over his face and lets out a sigh. “Or, the guy already knows and doesn’t give a shit, which means he’s the biggest bastard on the planet and she’s afraid I’ll try to kill the guy. Either way, you’re right.”