Come to Me Recklessly (15 page)

“I changed when my best friend tried to kill himself and got himself sent away.”

She huffed in disappointment. “That scared you, Christopher. Hurt you. What happened with Jared made you question everything in your life. It did that to all of us. But I know there was so much more to it than that… and I know it had everything to do with that girl outside.”

Anger spiraled through me, and I rushed both my hands through my hair, hating that my mom had it, spot-on, when I’d thought I’d kept all of this shit tucked so perfectly inside.

My resentment boiled over. “It doesn’t matter,” I almost yelled, then quieted my voice to a harsh whisper and leaned in closer, hissing the words. “It doesn’t fucking matter. She moved on, or did you miss that part? Even if I wanted her… even if she wanted me… she’s living with some guy. And I promise you that I know Samantha well enough to know that’s not a casual thing.” I hated the way the words got all choked up, sounding like they just about killed me to say them.

But they did.

It fucking killed me to say it. To admit it. To think about Samantha crawling in bed with some asshole every night. To think about him undressing her. Adoring her. She wouldn’t be with him unless she loved him. Completely and wholly.

And she was supposed to be mine.

Mine.
 

And I’d fucking lost her and I’d hate myself for the rest of my days for doing it.

And I’d forever hate her for letting me go.

Sympathy flashed across Mom’s face, like she’d just read what had raced across mine, and she gently reached up and touched my chin. “Everything matters. Don’t think for a second it doesn’t.”

Quickly she filled the cups with punch, grabbed two, and began to walk away. She paused before she got to the door and looked back at me. “And for the record, I never said a word about you getting back together with her. The fact that’s exactly where your mind went should tell you something.”

Clutching a cup, she lifted her hand, gestured to the two remaining on the counter. “Now, grab those and come out. It’s time to enjoy your friends and family.”

She ducked out the door, and I silenced a frustrated scream.

This was pure and utter torture.

I shifted my chair back from the table, stretched my long legs out casually in front of me, nursing a beer like I didn’t have a care in the world, while I dealt with the clusterfuck of emotion raging inside me.

Searching for a second’s reprieve, I looked up toward the invisible stars. Night clung to the dense sky, a thin sheet of clouds stretched across the endless expanse. Miles of city lights glowed against them to cast the whole of the backyard in a milky haze. Earlier in the day, Jared had had me help him string up strands of clear bulb lights, each draping across the yard to make it feel like the place was closed in.

Special.

Sanctified.

Helium balloons sat in clusters around the wall’s perimeter, and the twinkling party lights and the haze from above made them glimmer with color, the entire backyard setting the tone for the perfect party Jared wanted nothing more than to give to his little sister.

It made everything seem closer. More intimate.

Now it was late and most of the party had cleared out. Just our closest friends and family remained – and, of course, Samantha. Four hours had passed in a blur, she and I partaking in some kind of forbidden dance where we weren’t allowed to speak to each other, weren’t allowed to look, which was about damned near impossible. We’d managed not to utter one word to each other over the rest of the night, acting as if the other wasn’t there while somehow we were both involved in the conversations happening around us.

Soft laughter floated from the well of that sweet little mouth. In defense, I slammed my eyes shut, but there was nothing I could do, and they opened just in time to catch that bashful blush rush to Samantha’s cheeks. She was all lit up, the lights from above making her appear angelic.

Unreal.

My chest squeezed.

Self-consciously, she tucked a lock of blond hair behind her ear, hair I wanted nothing more than to fist in my hands, mind you, and her soft tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip. She pressed her teeth to the plump flesh, fighting off a smile that only grew as she listened to everyone telling stories about their most embarrassing moments.

She’d gotten comfortable, settled into the casual vibe that had taken over the backyard, while I sat there feeling all the screws holding my sanity together coming loose.

Clenching my jaw, I gave it my all to look at my sister, who was currently numero uno on my shit list. I still couldn’t believe she thought there was anything okay with inviting Samantha here.

Then I made a feeble attempt to look at my asshole
BFF
sitting snuggled up beside her. All night he couldn’t seem to decide if he wanted to smirk at me or watch me with some kind of pitying smile that I wanted to knock right off his smug face.

My attention jumped around to the rest of our friends and family who sat around the long banquet table that had been set up in the middle of the yard.

But fuck me. I couldn’t stop looking at her. I lifted a bottle of beer to my mouth. Ice-cold liquid flowed down my parched throat as I slanted my eyes back in her direction. I went for inconspicuous, but I was pretty damned sure she could feel the heat of my gaze, because the girl kept sliding her attention my way, catching me staring, before she’d get all fumbly and panicky and jerk away.

Megan laughed hysterically at my side, pulling my attention back to her. I cracked a grin, because she was funny when she was all liquored up, always kinda loud and obnoxious but completely sweet at the same time.

She kinda reminded me of me. You know, except for the sweet part and she wasn’t a slut.

I was always giving her crap, teasing her relentlessly, because she didn’t hesitate to give it right back just as good as I gave it. She was superhot, too. No question about that. Wouldn’t touch that girl for a million bucks, though, no matter how much of that razzing might tell otherwise. She was one hundred percent friend material.

“Oh my God, seriously, you guys don’t even know,” Megan continued with her story, her expression brimming with exaggerated mortification. “There I stood in the center of the school playground, crossing my legs and trying to cover up the huge wet spot soaking my pants with my hands. The entire fourth grade class had made a circle around me, but the worst part of all was Tyler Adams standing there pointing and laughing at me, yelling, ‘Look! Megan peed her pants.’ Most embarrassing moment of my life
and
my first broken heart. He was supposed to be my boyfriend and instead he told me I was gross.” She shook her head sadly, biting back laughter.

Aly and Samantha laughed like it was the funniest thing either of them had ever heard.

God, I needed a distraction, to quit letting myself get lured into that sound that was making me all kinds of crazy.

“You are gross,” I tossed out, because like I said, Megan was an awesome target.

Megan pointed at me. “Shut it.”

Bull’s-eye.

“What?” I shrugged innocently. “I’m only speaking the truth.”

“Ha… you want to start talking about gross? I have way too many stories on you to start talking
gross
, so watch yourself, dirty bird.”

Ouch.
Of course she’d go there.

From across the ten-foot space, I could feel Samantha’s sudden discomfort, the way she shifted and her face dropped toward her lap, and I also knew from experience that Megan was way past capacity for her to keep her tongue in check. She loved ribbing me about my not so stellar history with the opposite sex. Usually I didn’t mind – it was all fun and revelry – but not tonight. I’d once told Samantha I hadn’t earned all of my reputation, but I sure as shit had earned it now, and with all joking aside, it wasn’t exactly something that made me proud.

“Now, now, now… let’s not get carried away,” I cajoled, going for casual. “My mom
is
sitting at the table
right
next to you.” The jerk of my chin at Mom was playful, but I saw her soft brown eyes go that disappointed shade again, the way she always looked at me anytime the subject of me and girls was brought up.

She’d always been the supportive type, quietly strict, rarely getting upset when we got in trouble, instead responding with insight and words that made us think.

But my lifestyle was a whole other issue, and she never had any qualms expressing her displeasure about that.

Tonight, it was blatant. I totally got it. My mom wanted to see me happy. She thought I deserved more than mindless sex and endless bodies.

But I didn’t.

She tsked to break up the tension that’d gathered thick, then looked at Megan and lightened her voice. “Yes, by all means, spare me. The last thing I need to hear about are the escapades of either of my sons. These two…” She trailed off suggestively, shaking her head. She shot an accusatory eye between me and Aug, who was rubbing his neck as he looked toward the sky, trying not to laugh, because my little brother was just as guilty as me. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with either of them.”

Beside him, Courtney blushed a hundred shades of red. She had to be one of the shyest girls I’d ever met. Hadn’t seen her in years, and damn, was she the spitting image of Helene. Fucking beautiful, all serene and soft and with a kind of innocence that had just about gone extinct.

I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the way Courtney and Aug had been sneaking glances at each other, either. Jared was watching his little sister like a hawk, probably just damned near as close as I was watching Samantha, but for entirely different reasons.

Scratching the side of my jaw, I studied my jock of a younger brother, figuring it was about time he and I had a little chat. I’d learned my lessons the hard way. Guys like us didn’t go getting sweet on girls like that.

Megan gave me a little shove. “Fine, you’re off the hook. But only for Karen, since she loves me best,” she taunted, glancing at my mom with a wide smile before turning right back to me. “And you better watch yourself or I’m letting loose.”

“Heard you already were.” My eyes went wide with the jab.

“Gah… I will kill you.” She smacked me in the chest, hard, and I laughed just as hard, leaning off to the side as she continued with a barrage of slaps against any piece of me she could get her hands on.

I rubbed at the sting on my skin.

Totally deserved that one.

And yes, it was totally worth it.

I pinched her side, and Megan squealed, jumped, swatted me again. “Christopher Moore! You are going to pay for that.”

“Oh, is that a promise?” I waggled my brows, my words pure innuendo, all play.

“In your dreams, dirty bird.”

Like I said, easy target.

My dad huffed. “All right, you two, knock it off. Can we remember it is Courtney’s
sixteenth
birthday? The whole lot of you are terrible influences.” Dad never said all that much. He was the quiet type, always content to sit in the background until the moment he felt it prudent to intervene.

Megan took in a deep breath, straightened herself out. “Okay, okay. Truce.”

“Truce,” I agreed.

Smiling, my gaze drifted, drawn right back to Samantha, who was fighting an amused expression, her blue eyes soft and light.

My heart took a stuttered beat, and for the longest minute, I got stuck there.

God, she was beautiful, glowing with that radiating kind of beauty, the kind that’s not just surface but real. Deep and pure and honest.

A lump grew thick at the base of my throat, and I tore my eyes away, swallowing over it.

Like she was giving a toast, Megan lifted her cup. “All right, Samantha, you are up! What’s your most embarrassing moment?”

When all the attention landed on her, Samantha blushed just about as hard as Courtney had, minutely shaking her head as she again nibbled at that plush red lip.

Goddamn, what I wouldn’t give to be the one doing that for her.

“Do I have to?” she almost pled.

She’d been sipping at that plastic cup all night, filled up with my mom’s special punch, which packed a major
punch
, and I knew she was feeling good, the way her mouth seemed lax and her words hinted at a tiny slur.

So fucking cute.

I raked my palm over my face and over the top of my head, trying to break up the unwanted thought.

“Uh… yeah, you do,” Aly supplied, giggling as she got cozy tucked into her husband’s side. “The rest of us had to. Now, spill.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, this throaty sound that hit me low, dragging all my blood with it.

Awesome.
The girl had the same effect on me as she did when I was sixteen.

“Mine’s the worst. Believe me.” For the flash of a second, her eyes darted to me, before she sucked in a huge breath, then released it slowly. “So… when I was seventeen my mom asked me to run an errand for her. I didn’t have my own car, so I took my dad’s. I drove to the Walgreens, parked right at the front, jumped out, and ran inside. When I came back out, I stood there staring at the empty spot where my dad’s car had been. Inside, I was freaking out that it’d been stolen.” She glanced around. “Then I heard this man yelling.”

She bit back laughter, though it was swimming all over that pretty face. “I looked across the parking lot to where he was waving his arms in the air, his face beet red, screaming, ‘Whose car is this? Whose car is this?’ over and over again.” Blue eyes went wide with emphasis. “Turns out, Dad’s car wasn’t stolen. Instead of putting it in park, I’d put it in neutral, and it rolled across the parking lot and crashed into a brand-new Lincoln. When he saw me standing there, the old man started screaming at me, demanding to know if this ‘piece of junk’ was my car, and I just shook my head no and walked away.”

Clutching her stomach, Aly doubled over, cracking up. “No, you didn’t.”

“Oh yes, I did. Walked all the way home, three blocks in the middle of summer. I dumped the bag on the kitchen counter and went straight to my room. The most embarrassing part was my dad came in about a half hour later and wanted to know where in the heck his car was. When he finally pried it out of me, he drove me straight back in Mom’s even crappier station wagon. He made me get out and apologize for lying and leaving the car there. Of course by then there were about fifty people gathered around
and
four cops. Let’s not forget about them and the five-hundred-dollar ticket they gave me. They told me I was lucky they didn’t arrest me for leaving the scene of an accident.”