Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Wells
I needed to tell Thatcher what happened. He may hate me, but he’d hate me even more if I didn’t tell him what happened with his sister.
His sister.
I still couldn’t believe I did that. I touched her, and that wasn’t allowed. Especially when it came to me.
But she’s already been touched.
Somehow Rainbow Reed got one over on me. She knew the rules. The whole fucking world knew they weren’t supposed to touch her. She was a pariah, an outcast, and that was well known.
I made it well known.
I didn’t know how to fucking deal with that information, and I double didn’t know how to deal with the fact that I not only kissed her but got off. That fucker Bru was the culprit, and if I wasn’t so busy needing to scrub the cum out of my boxers, I would have laid his ass out.
What the fuck?
There was so much wrong with what happened at the house, and Bru egged that shit on. Fuck, he’d been the damn ring leader.
“Give in to her, man.”
His rough voice in my ear had done that shit. He’d made me give in to it, but this wasn’t some girl at a party. This was Thatcher’s sister, and it all was so fucked up.
I never told Thatcher.
I told myself I needed to, and even urged myself, but every time I saw my best friend over the next few weeks, I couldn’t make my mouth work.
I had plenty of opportunities. We shared a couple classes together, and we’d gone to the gym together multiple times.
But one of the other guys was always around. There’d be Ares or Dorian.
There’d be Bru.
Bru and I didn’t talk about what happened either, but that was because I was ignoring his ass like the plague. He kept giving me this look. It bordered between we should talk, fuck, or both, and since I didn’t trust myself not to do the fucking part of that, I stayed away.
It was worse when Squeak was around.
Being around her was different now, heavy.
She’d swish around in her little twill skirts acting all innocent, like she wasn’t the guilty party that started this whole thing.
She fucking kissed me not once but twice, and I didn’t kiss girls.
At least, I tried not to. I kept a barrier up between myself and women.
Girls tended to be emotional and needy as shit.
Kisses were different with women, which was why I avoided them when I could.
Those lips were better for my cock as far as I was concerned.
I avoided Squeak too over the passing weeks because, when I didn’t, she also gave me a look.
Her cheeks would get all red and her eyes would avert to Bru’s.
His would get all fiery. Like every time he looked at her, he was imagining shit he had no business imagining.
Like he could taste her every time he saw her.
Bow’s face would get even more red in response, and then the pair would look at me.
They’d both have that same fire, that same heat, like suddenly they were imagining shit with me.
My cock would twitch, and then, suddenly, I was imagining shit.
I was imagining filling my best friend’s little sister with cock while I kissed my other best friend over her shoulder.
I was smelling both feminine and masculine scents, and that feminine one took me over the edge.
It made me remember things. It made me remember moments and countless summers.
It made me remember stuff before things changed between us.
Shit had changed though, and, even if it hadn’t, there was no way I was betraying Thatcher.
Even if I already had.
I pulled up to the Reeds’ the night of Dorian’s draft party in a tuxedo. The formal wear was necessary since Dorian’s parents were throwing a gala. He’d been drafted into the NFL.
How time flew.
It was crazy how we’d all gone from teenagers that didn’t give a shit to adults that were now about to start our lives.
Dorian and Ares would be graduating from Pembroke in a matter of weeks, and Ares already had a job.
He’d be running one of his dad’s art galleries while he waited for Fawn to graduate.
I could imagine they’d be heading off to New York after that.
She had aims at becoming a photojournalist at the New York Times.
We were all growing up.
I didn’t feel that way, despite my fancy attire. My shoes were shined, and my tux was pressed, but I still felt like a fraud.
That went double when I knocked on the Reeds’ door that evening. I agreed to take Thatcher’s sister to Dorian’s gala as a power play. I wanted to show Squeak I was the one in control.
I felt like the punk when my buddy Thatcher opened the door. He wore a tux too, the dude looking like a straight gorilla when he put his hand out for mine.
“Why you knocking like you haven’t just let yourself into my house the entire time we’ve been friends,” Thatcher said, snorting, and he was right. I did have a house key. Fuck, he had a key to my house too. We might as well be brothers this dude and I were so close.
My best friend looked almost as fly as me tonight when I came into his home. He had his dark hair moussed back but kept his earrings in. He switched them up tonight for the occasion though, with diamond studs. He usually wore crosses.
I laughed as I came in the door. It was a nervous laugh. I guess I hadn’t used my key because I needed the extra time on the stoop to calm my fucking nerves.
Relax.
I shook my buddy’s hand when he put it out, then snapped after the handshake. I smoothed my hands down my lapels. “I’m trying to be respectful tonight. You know, classy.”
In reality, I was trying not to upchuck on my buddy’s lawn before I knocked. Tonight, I planned to tell him the truth about everything that happened with Bow. All us Legacy crew would be together tonight, but there’d be plenty of moments were I could take Thatcher off to the side and talk.
I told myself this was the gameplay for weeks. I told myself this was why I was waiting to admit the truth that I not only kissed his sister, but came in my pants afterward. The latter had been because Bru had his fucking fingers in my asshole but still.
“You? Classy? That’ll be the day,” Thatcher said, closing the door behind me.
I was surprised his housekeeper didn’t answer, and when I asked why she hadn’t, he said his parents had given their housekeeper the night off since we all would be at the gala.
Thatcher squeezed my shoulder. “And thanks for taking Bow tonight. It’ll be nice not to keep an eye on her.
Who knows who’s going to be at that gala. ”
He meant I’d be around to keep the guys off her. Thatcher was real protective of his sister, and if I had a little sister, I’d be the same way.
Thatcher smiled. “I’m really glad you put the past behind you. I know it wasn’t easy.”
I felt gut punched for several reasons. The main one was that, apparently, I was the guy his sister had to stay away from. I mean, I kissed her.
I also hadn’t put anything behind me, and his sister was once again putting me in a position to lie.
My hand was knuckling at my side when Thatcher’s parents suddenly made an appearance in the foyer.
Mrs. Reed wore a white gown that shimmered, and Mr. Reed resembled Thatcher with his own black tux.
Thatcher and his pop looked just like each other, but Mr. Reed had zero smiles on the regular.
In actuality, it seemed like he only reserved them for his wife and Bow.
Mr. Reed had his hand behind Mrs. Reed as they both came down the grand staircase. It was one of those big ones that made a statement like out of the movie Titanic.
“Wells,” Mr. Reed said, tipping his chin at me when the pair reached the bottom of the staircase, and, I had to say, I felt gut punched again.
There was respect in the nod. It wasn’t like Mr. Reed didn’t respect me, but he usually acknowledged me like a son.
That meant we weren’t really equal, but something had changed since that night he had me in the car.
I first noticed the change the night the Reeds came to my parents’ house for taco night.
Thatcher’s dad was obviously very happy I put aside the beef I had with his daughter.
I ignored the sour feeling in my stomach as I hugged Mrs. Reed.
Thatcher’s mom told me I looked handsome as she pulled away.
She also touched my hair, the woman a second mom to me.
I moussed my hair back like Thatcher tonight.
I’d also bought a new tux, wanting to look my best for my buddy’s party.
It was a classic black and fit my form perfectly.
“Thanks,” I told her, but noticed we were absent one. Thatcher’s girlfriend, Aspen, was still on tour. She wanted to make the gala but couldn’t swing it.
The one we were missing was obviously Thatcher’s sister, but she didn’t make us all wait long.
Squeak’s gown was like her mother’s.
The white shimmer glided across her tiny hips, sheer at her thighs but modest everywhere else. The sheerness wasn’t a trait of her mother’s dress though, nor was the slit at the side. The slit gave a peek of Squeak’s thigh every step she took down the grand staircase.
Rainbow Reed didn’t look like Thatcher’s little sister as she made an appearance in front of us.
Her wavy hair was on her shoulders and bumped up at the bottom, like an old Hollywood starlet, and her red lips and flushed cheeks paired with that aesthetic.
Squeak normally had flushed cheeks, but tonight, it appeared intentional with just the slightest bit of makeup.
She normally didn’t wear a whole lot of makeup. She never needed to.
My gut did a twisting thing as I watched her descend the stairs. Her gloved hand guided her way, the sparkly bag on her arm matching her dress. She reminded me of Hermione out of that scene in Harry Potter. Completely unassuming until she wasn’t.
My gut turned again, and I was distracted from her when Mrs. Reed took her phone out. She snapped a picture. “Oh, honey, you look beautiful.”
She did; I had eyes and could admit that. My jaw moved, and I was bumped a little when Thatcher nudged me.
He eyed me. “You going to go get her, dude?”
That was right. I was her escort.
I cleared my throat, then pushed forward toward my obligation. That was all tonight was, an obligation.
I took the steps quickly and intercepted Bow two steps from the bottom.
With all the room’s attention on her, I didn’t think she noticed me there at first. She did now, and I didn’t miss the way her eyes followed each of my strides to the stairs.
Nor how they glided over the fit of my tux before settling somewhere across my chest.
An obligation.
I drummed that into my head. Eventually, Thatcher’s little sister made it up to my eyes, and that was when her face managed to get even brighter. It was a natural tint in her cheeks this time when she opened her mouth. “Hi, Wells.”
My name was a whisper, and the sound drummed a beat into my chest that I ignored when I put an arm out for her hand. It was the civil thing to do to help her down the stairs, the proper thing. I cleared my throat again. “Hi. My car’s outside.”
I’d be driving her tonight, and her brother was coming with us. I was happy for that buffer.
Something twitched in Bow’s expression when I spoke to her. I didn’t know if that was because of my directness or my coldness.
Maybe both.
Regardless, I ignored her response, then, later, the heat of her hand on my arm when she touched me. That warmth pressed through my tux, but that was a physical response. It was a mistake.
And I wasn’t going to make anymore.