Chapter 5
Ella
I woke in my old childhoodbedroom, alone, body pulsing. Most of the dream had been memories; Jack and I talking about Hailey, back when I’d harbored illicit fantasies about her, knowing she had the hots for my boyfriend, not sure if I wanted to kiss her or claw her eyes out. I’d been so scared of losing him, but when he’d asked me if I was into her, I’d come clean about the fact that yeah...maybe.
“Take her out. See what happens,” Jack had said in this strained voice as he moved inside me. A surge of lust pulsed through me, my toes curling.
Hailey and I had barely even been friends. I was popular. She was from the wrong side of town. I was wrecked with horniness for her and terrified every move I made gave me away. I hated her for that, but there was something else, too, because the seething jealousy as Jack fucked me and whispered in my ear to go after her shot me closer and closer to the edge of a screaming, clawing orgasm.
That’s when I woke up—right before I got there.
I lay in bed, alarm going off next to me, my heart beating too hard. I smacked the alarm into silence, then jammed my hand into my underpants, chasing the tails of the dream.
Hailey.
What was her life like now? Was she still with Jack? Did they live together? Had she told him about me? Had they laughed at how stupid I was for leaving them? That buzzer in my panties was way too live-wire. I barely grazed over it and had to suck air between my teeth and go still for fear of falling into a frenzy of masturbation. But that was the cornerstone of my life now: control and self-denial.
Cursing, I threw the covers off, welcoming the early morning coolness that chilled my body. I’d slept with the windows open, the promise of real summer wafting in on the breeze. Sunshine poured in a little earlier every morning.
I’d known coming back home would bring up ghosts. I just did not expect those ghosts to show up right away. Or look fantastic despite the time that had passed. Or make me writhe, groaning with need. But I was here on a mission, and that was to show off to everyone in town how straight and married I was about to be.
Downstairs, I found Charlie neatly making up the Murphy bed in what served as the second guest room as well as Dad’s home office. My fiancé was there, and I was full of horniness, and we were engaged to be married, so I stopped and laid a big old sloppy kiss on him.
“Wow,” he breathed when I finally pulled back. He craned his neck to the door to make sure we hadn’t been caught. “Is torturing me your new kink?”
“Maybe. Did you like it, Chucklebutt?”
“If you are trying to tempt me to go back home early, your charms are working...except for the Chucklebutt part.”
Good old Charlie. He understood I did not enjoy being here, just as he understood my obligation to be here, how those emotions were two sides of the same coin that paid for being part of my family. Unlike Hailey or Jack, both of whom had seemed to believe I had nothing to lose by siding with them. Not merely losing family either. The world could be unkind at best, dangerous even, for people who lived outside romantic hetero norms. I mean, did they even read the news?
Refocusing on my soon-to-be husband, I said, “It’s only until Sunday. But that means we have a busy day today. The final fitting for your and Gabe’s suits, then the florist, then shopping for gifts to fill the out-of-town baskets for all the guests staying at the hotel.”
Charlie gave me the expression of a man beset by women’s work, which I gritted my teeth and smiled through because, as far as I was concerned, this was his wedding too. But if I was going to turn a blind eye to Bob From Work, I supposed I could put a pin in the equality-in-marital-work discussion too.
“If you are a good boy”—I couldn’t help but use a slightly mothering tone since he was being slightly babyish about running errands—“wedding gifts have started arriving. Mom’s got them stowed upstairs, but if you promise to help me do the thank-you notes after, we could spend this evening opening presents.”
“Wedding presents are for the wedding. They’re not engagement presents.”
This was what I loved and hated about Charlie. He was a real stickler for the rules. I hoped living with him would keep me in line.
“Well, they say sex is for when you get married,” I teased. “Maybe we should save that too.”
I expected an objection, but Charlie raised a questioning eyebrow. “You know, maybe we should.”
“Are you serious?” Our sex life was nothing to brag about. Doing it even less seemed like a bit of a red flag.
“I think it would be romantic,” he said softly. “Like revirginizing ourselves, saving ourselves for the big day.”
Honestly, the born-again virgin was something they talked about in the Pray Away the Gay camps I’d attended, so when he used that term, my heart flinched. But I’d had lots of moments like that. It came with the territory of having a secret life. Once the flinch passed, I considered it. If we didn’t have sex for the next five weeks, the chemistry between us might really be hot by the time we married. It gave me something to look forward to anyway.
“I think we’ve determined from that kiss earlier, torture is our new kink.” He grinned and pulled me close, raking his stubble against my neck. I was into it. But then again, I was still pretty worked up from that dream. Maybe still thinking about it, if I was being honest.
“Deal,” I agreed when we broke contact. “You’ll crack way before me anyhow.”
I thought of Bob From Work. Maybe I should’ve specified Charlie couldn’t have sex with anyone.
I waited for anything to rise in me: jealousy, rage, even loneliness that I wasn’t Charlie’s one and only. When no such emotion appeared, only a strange pang of empathy for the guy, I shuffled out of Charlie’s room to go get breakfast.
* * *
In the kitchen, mylittle brother was making his specialty, pancakes. He was hardly little anymore, though. At 21, Gabe was in his last year at college. Like me, he was blond and tan, with a slight, wiry build.
The worst thing about being ostracized from my family five years ago was losing contact with Gabe. They’d told me they didn’t feel right about me reaching out to him. I could only imagine what my parents had told him while I’d been gone. Probably something couched in love and boundaries, like I was the sexual equivalent of a drug addict: sick, needy, perhaps dangerous. A bad influence, to be sure. The last time Gabe had made me pancakes, he’d been a sophomore in high school.
“Smells fantastic. Can I have some?”
He looked over his shoulder as he tended the stove. No smile back, more like a wary curiosity. We were still getting to know each other again. “Sure,” he agreed. “Grab a plate.”
“So, you’re coming with us today?” I asked to make conversation. Gabe had returned from college for the weekend to get fitted for his wedding attire, a beautiful dove-gray morning suit. I’d asked him to stand for me at the wedding.
The grill sizzled as he poured batter. “You sure? I mean, what if everyone thinks...I’m your bridesmaid?”
I forced myself not to show anything but happy confidence. My brother standing in the position of my maid of honor was exactly the kind of twist on tradition my family could handle: one that highlighted Stewart family members in a clever nod to tradition that would give people something to talk about later.
“Everyone’s gonna know you’re my best man, and yes that’ll be a little...nontraditional, but you’re my only sibling, which makes you my favorite sibling, and I want you to be up there with me.” I bumped my hip against his. “Besides, I got you a really cute dress.”
His eyes widened like we were five and I’d said a bad word. Not because he thought I’d make him wear a dress...I hoped, anyway. Maybe some of the stuff he’d heard about me had stuck. He cast a furtive glance around the empty kitchen.
“Dad’s around,” he warned.
“Relax.” I doubled down on my promise to act confident and carefree. Straight! Engaged! Perfect daughter! All weekend, until Charlie and I went back to our apartment, and then I was going to get drunk. “Everyone will know you’re a regular guy, even if you’re the best man for your reformed dyke sister.” Oof. I hated it when my mouth said what my brain was thinking.
“Ella!” he exclaimed, and I broke my promise. My smile faltered. The young man next to me was not my goofy, sweet little brother but someone disgusted with me.
“I’m uh...” I took a step back, reeling, “sorry.”
Gabe flipped the pancake too soon, and it splattered into an ugly mess on the griddle. “It’s just that Dad... Look, he says you have enough on your plate with the wedding, but he does not like jokes like that. And honestly, he hasn’t been doing so great since you left. I just don’t think he’d appreciate your sense of humor.”
“What’s wrong?” I whispered, instantly back in that moment in Rolling Green’s employee parking lot, afraid Dad was going to die.
Gabe shrugged like a surly teen even though he was almost out of college. “Look, I’ve got enough to deal with without getting mixed up in the drama between you and Dad. You wanna know, talk to him about it. Where’s your plate?”
I handed it to him, my stomach in knots. When I’d gone to the Pray Away the Gay camp after my sophomore year, the counselors had talked about that—how we might see our parents as angry or inflexible, but that as we suffered, our families suffered for our deviant sexuality too. I think it would’ve been easier if the counselors had told us we were going to hell, because I was pretty sure that wasn’t gonna happen. It was harder to hear you were putting someone else through hell.
“You know, you don’t have to be my best man,” I said, wanting to give him an out if he really wasn’t cool with me. “You’ll still be my favorite brother even if you sit this one out.”
“I was just hoping you were gonna let me wear a dress.” He flopped pancakes onto my plate. I loved him so much at that moment I wanted to cry.
“No way, you’d totally look better than me,” I smarted back. “It’s the bride’s day. You can’t steal the show.”
“What did you mean, ‘sit this one out’? You already planning a divorce?” He teased as he turned off the griddle.
The question hit me funny. Probably wedding jitters. Probably super common. I’d google it tonight. Undoubtedly there was a whole AITA Reddit thread about it, and I was looking forward to all the sympathetic NTA replies. Totally normal to have cold feet, they’d assure. Part of the process!
“Not before I blow all Dad’s money on a banger wedding,” I smart-assed Gabe as I stuffed pancake into my mouth. “Better come get fitted today if you want to have half a chance at scoring some of that sweet drunk-wedding-guest booty.”
“Ugh, close your mouth when you chew.”
I opened it wide and moved my tongue around to make it even grosser.
“And don’t you worry about me, I get more booty than a pirate on payday. But I’ll go to your silly fitting just so you can start worrying that with me there, you won’t be the best-looking Stewart at your wedding.”
* * *
Hailey
I woke to my phone buzzing text notifications. Struggling out from underneath the tangle of unfamiliar limbs in my bed, I grabbed it.
Heather: I was up all night baking for the BAWS
I frowned, not understanding any of the text. Then vaguely, I remembered Big Assed Wedding Sampler. To be fair, this was what we called it when it was the two of us. I’d just never seen it made into an acronym for brevity. The rest dawned a moment later: Heather leaving, the slam and lock of the front door.
Heather: Figured the weekend was primo time to sell cake anyway, filled the front window display. Hope there are some takers.
I groaned. I should go to work and help her. The BAWS was a mother lode of work because it was literally every sample available for bridal parties.
Me: I would’ve helped if you’d waited until Monday
Heather: Can’t wait if we want them to take us for a job five weeks away. Rolling Green is a huge deal. I looked Stewart up. She’s an owner there. This could be huge for us.
I stretched, trying to relax, feeling nervous. My foot brushed across Jack’s hairy leg.
This was huge for Heather and me. This was also me working for the Stewarts. I was excited for Heather. I was scared my history with Ella would screw this up. Three Birds needed the money and the exposure. I remembered Jack’s offer and reconsidered by light of day. If this fell through, I might break and ask him for some cash.
Guiltily, I eyed him, still dead asleep in my bed.
Heather: I had to get out of that apartment last night. You two should practice stealth sex.
Me: Didn’t Stewart already say she’d put in an order?
As far as I was concerned, Ella’s parents were lucky Three Birds had time to help them out.
Heather: You caked the bride! Good thing they are desperate.
Heather: I’m exhausted. This could make our reputation. Come pick up the BAWS and drive it out there.
Jack rolled onto his side and curled an arm around my waist, becoming the big spoon. His hand slid between my legs. Sometimes he liked to sleep with them nestled between my thighs. Once or twice he’d slept all night with the pad of his middle finger between my labia lips, absently stroking me every time we shifted. I wiggled my butt against his groin, mostly to wake him up. Usually, he’d realize where he was and that it was just the two of us, and we’d fall into the friendship part of our friends-with-benefits situation.
Me: Wow, that’s a lot of work
Me: I bet you are tired
Me: Why don’t you drive it out there and I’ll stay behind the counter and work the register. The drive’s long, but it’s peaceful, and you won’t have to be on your feet in the store all day.
I saw bubbles, so I sent what I had and started the next text. No such luck. Before I could get anything more written, hers came in.
Heather: You think driving four hours round trip is the easier job here? Hahaha hahaha
Heather: hahahahhahahahahhah
Heather: No. Come on. I did this huge thing for our business. Chip in.
“Morning.” Jack kissed my shoulder blade.
Me: I have a history at Rolling Green. Being seen there will not help our chances of getting hired.
I tossed the phone. That should fix it. Guess if Heather figured out I’d been part of a threesome I could live with it. I mean, Heather had a half-peeled banana tattoo on her hip, and during Truth or Dare she’d once confessed to hooking up with her first cousin.
“Morning.” I twisted to kiss his sweet face. Jack’s hair had darkened over the years, losing the glints of gold he’d had as a lifeguard, but his hazel eyes still flashed green sparkles when he smiled. Sometimes, even though I could objectively see the changes in him, my heart still saw the boy from high school, like a mirage.
My phone buzzed again, and I knew it wasn’t Heather giving up. Sure enough.
Heather: OMG
Heather: They ordered online!!
Heather: They put in an order to serve 350, plus a bachelor’s cake to serve 50 at the rehearsal.
I gasped, then choked. Holy shit. I mean, I knew the Stewarts would go big, but an order that size would pay the rent.
Heather: I look like shit, and I smell even worse. Exhausted. Coming home for a shower before the shop opens.
Heather: Come pick up this BAWS, go over there right now while the cake is fresh, kiss ass, apologize as many times as you can fit in, and give them their samples. Introduce yourself to the staff, make connections, bring your portfolio. I’m boxing it now. I’ll tell them to expect you before lunch.
Guess she hadn’t put together exactly how tarnished my reputation was at Rolling Green. I thought about explaining it in plain words. But the thing was...part of me really wanted to go.
Jack’s middle finger found its favorite spot, and I squirmed against it. He might’ve still been half asleep.
“Hey.” I nudged him with my elbow.
“I’m going,” he murmured.
Guess he knew our routine pretty well. His finger slid out of my slit, dragging slowly over my clit, like he was going to remove his hand, but then shot home as he exhaled sleepily, stretching his body in a way that not-so-subtly pressed morning wood against my ass cheek. I bit my lip, seduced.
Reaching behind his hip, I tugged the waistband of his shorts enough for him to get the idea. A moment later, the feverish warmth of his erection hard against my bottom. We moved against each other until he found the wet spot between my legs and slid inside me, both of us groaning with pleasure. His finger rolled over my clit, sandwiched between my thighs.
“Who was that, work?” he asked against my ear. “Are you late? Maybe we should stop.” The way he was already fucking me made his suggestion nothing more than dirty talk.
Still, when he pulled out to the tip, I shook my head, groaning when he teasingly inched his way back in. The danger of going bareback made it more exciting. He meant late to work, but the time I’d been late had solidified in my mind that Jack and I needed to go our separate ways. Still...there was always some fairy-tale whisper in the back of my mind that if it ever happened, we would find a way to make it work. Or maybe I was destined to end up just like my mother.
He rocked slowly in and out of me, making my core clench like I could keep him from leaving. The very first time the three of us had been together, I’d been afraid to have sex with Jack, even after he’d made me come. Ella had straddled him, making me watch as she rose up and down over him, triumphant, almost seeming to brag that she could do what I wouldn’t. With her legs spread, I had seen everything: the way the root of his cock had glistened as it came out, how he had stretched her opening until my desire drowned out my inhibitions. I had stumbled across the pool’s patio and knelt at the lounger they were on. I had put my mouth on her, tongue touching her for the very first time as he fucked her, tasting him and her both.
Now, as Jack moved inside me, more and more serious, and as his finger massaged my swollen clit, I wondered what it had felt like for Ella to have him inside her like he was inside me now. What had it felt like to have my mouth on her too? I’d been so desperate for her, so needy. I arched my back, pressing my ass against Jack, cheeks slapping against his thighs. I pinched my nipple, eyes closed, remembering how it had been to tongue Ella for the first time, how I’d been full of the overwhelming desire to push her off Jack and fuck him for myself. How had it had felt for her, getting fucked and tongued at the same? I was her. I was me, tonguing her. I was here with Jack as he pushed me closer and closer to the edge.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” I panted frantically, nails digging into the back of his hand, everything inside me clenching hard, straining, until suddenly it broke and I cried out as everything released.
He pulled out fast and came immediately, spurting against my ass cheek, cock heavy and slick from being inside me. The hollowness of his abrupt absence left me cheated and robbed as my hips twitched and wave after empty wave washed over me. On the backs of my eyelids flashed memories of the first time I’d seen him and Ella together; I’d spied them through a window, late after a party, after everyone had left. I’d been helpless to look away, everything inside me catching a charge. He’d pulled out then, too, cum spilling across the small of her back. She’d turned and seen me watching.
Jack stroked my clit and I came again, his open mouth on my shoulder as he held me close. “Good girl,” he whispered.
For a while, we lay there, exhausted. I reached around, touching the sticky evidence of his orgasm.
“Sorry,” Jack confessed against the back of my neck. “It was too much. I couldn’t stop for a condom. And I didn’t want...”
It was stupid to ever let him inside without birth control, but it seemed like the two of us were always tempting fate, daring it to make us decide who we were to each other. Maybe I had a secret creampie fetish, but I felt cheated.
“I’ve got to drop off a taster sample at Rolling Green today,” I said as he rested against me. “For Ella’s wedding.”
This was why Jack and I could never be together even though we loved each other, still needed each other. Because of moments like this, when it felt like a funeral.
“Wanna come with?” I faked a lighthearted tone, as though dropping off her wedding cake sampler wasn’t going to be devastating. Or...maybe like Jack had said—I had this childish wish that she would see us and come back. Even though she had never come back, not in all the years since she left. Wow, I was gonna get wrecked.
When he didn’t answer, I added, “If she’s there, we could spy on her.”
For a moment, there was horrible, awkward silence. What had I just said? What kind of messed up offer had I made? What if I was still caught up in Ella but Jack had moved on, and he’d just seen how pathetic I really was?
Then: “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
And my heart? It filled with secret, terrible, foolish glee.