Chapter 27 – Leslie
“You stood me up last week. Did you forget about tequila-oh-clock?” Lucy stood outside my dorm room, arms crossed, chin jutted out.
Tequila. That’s what I needed.
“Got stuck doing an assignment,” I told her.
“Hmm.” She surveyed me as I unlocked my door, following me in.
I collapsed on my bed and she hopped up and joined me.
“You don’t look like you were doing an assignment. You look like you just climbed a mountain and barely lived to tell the tale.”
I sighed, putting my head in my hands.
“Here. Have some medicine and tell Auntie Lucy all about it.”
I took the bottle out of her hand, uncapped it, and tipped it into my mouth.
“It burns so good,” I said, wiping my mouth and handing it back.
“Whoa, girl. Save some for the fishes.” She shook her head but chugged back some tequila herself. “Damn. Next time, remind me to bring limes.”
I laughed.
She handed the bottle back. “Talk to me. This is about the hockey god, right?”
I groaned. “It is, but I don’t want to talk about it.”
She gaped at me. “Do you not have any girlfriends? This is how you bond, by sharing secret, outlandish stories about the guys you’re fucking and commiserating in generalities about how evil men are, but how much we still like their dicks.”
She was right. But if it got out that I had fucked my stepbrother…
“How about this? I’ll tell you about the much-too-old-for-me man I’ve had my eye on, and the trouble I’ve gotten into with him, and you keep drinking. And once you’re drunk and realize that I’ve given you the weapon to destroy me with, you can share, too. It’ll be mutually assured destruction,” she said happily.
“I’m going to need a lot more of this,” I said, taking another huge swig of the tequila and passing it back to her.
“Okay, so, it goes like this. You know the head hockey coach?”
I nodded. I’d seen Mason’s coach all over Tabb’s Instagram. He was an attractive man, probably in his late thirties, and had been hired this year. He seemed stern and like he would put up with zero bullshit. He was also the son of the CEO of a multibillion dollar corporation, and I wondered why he was working here, or working, at all.
“Well.” Lucy lowered her voice. “He’s my guardian.”
I stared at her. “Like, as in, your dad?”
She reared back. “No, ew. My dad was his mentor, and when he and my mom died, they left me to him in their will.”
“Oh, Lucy, I’m so sorry,” I said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She gave me a small, pained smile in thanks. “Anyway, I was fifteen when he became my guardian, and I barely see him. The times we do, he treats me like a little girl. But now I’m finally nineteen years old, and I decided to make my move.”
My jaw dropped. Literally. “You mean…”
“Uh huh.” She blushed but lifted her head. “It’s gonna happen. And I may end up needing your help.”
As I digested this information, she took another swig of the tequila, then looked at the bottle. There were only a few fingers left.
“Shit, we’ve had a lot of this.” She looked at me doubtfully. “Tomorrow’s going to suck, isn’t it?”
“It is.” I stared back at her, and then we collapsed in a pile of giggles.
“Okay, your turn,” she told me, when we came up for air. “It’s only fair.”
“Fine. It’s like this. Mason—the hottie—is my…”
“Is your what?”
“My stepbrother.” It came out on a croak.
She reared back. “Holy shit.”
I nodded, feeling a little like a bobble head doll. “Exactly. Holy shit.”
“And you two…”
“Yeah.”
“For how long?”
“Just this past month.”
“Did you grow up together?”
“No, our parents got married this summer. He hated me, or at least I thought he did. Made my life a living hell.”
“But he doesn’t hate you.”
I shook my head. “He told me loves me. But how do I trust him, when he’s done so many untrustworthy things? This could ruin my reputation—my life. And then what, he fucks around on me with someone else? Or worse, I become his dirty little secret?”
Just like my mom was.
Lucy giggled, shaking her head like I was a fool. “Girl.”
“I mean it!”
Clearing her throat, she widened her eyes at me. “Leslie, that man does not look at you like you’re a dirty little secret. I saw him staring at you in the cafeteria while he tried to make you jealous with that girl, and it was obvious to everyone that he wanted to eat you alive, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And then have you again for dessert.” She shivered. “So fucking hot. And the way he slammed out of here, twice? If he wasn’t serious, he wouldn’t care that much. That man wants to lock you down and make you swallow the key.”
She had no idea how right she was about that. I slumped, slightly relieved but still torn in two. “But he’s my stepbrother. That’s?—”
“A little Flowers in the Attic?” I glanced at her. “What? I found it on my mom’s bookshelf. And you’ve seen the movie, right? I mean, I don’t think it’s as bad as you think it is. First,” she started counting reasons off on her fingers. “You two aren’t actually related. Second, you didn’t meet until you were practically adults, and you didn’t start fucking until you were adults-adults. Third, they did it in Clueless, and it seemed fine.”
Hope started to stir in me. I’d expected her to recoil from me, to march out of my room in disgust and tell everyone.
“You really think so?”
“Yes. That said, I’m in love with my guardian, so maybe I’m not the best judge here of what’s kosher and what’s not. Do your parents know?”
I shook my head, stress picking up in my chest at the thought. “No. No way. They’d never forgive either of us for that. And it might ruin their marriage—I couldn’t do that to my mom. She’s finally happy.”
Lucy’s eyes were wise and wide in her freckled face. “It’s good that you care so much about your mom, but Leslie, have you ever thought about your own happiness? If other people’s opinions didn’t matter, if your mom and his dad gave you their blessing, what would you do?”
I looked down at my hands. “I’d be with him,” I whispered. “I think…no, I know I love him.”
“Wow. Okay then.” She blinked, clearing her throat. “Do you want to look back at your life one year, five years, fifty years from now knowing you could have been with someone who made you happy, but you weren’t because you were scared of what other people would think? What if he ends up with someone else? Would you ever be able to get over the fact that you gave up what you needed because you thought you should?”
“No. But you don’t know what he did.”
“What did he do?”
“Put cameras in my room, and then beat the hell out of Chris. And then he lied to me about it.”
Her eyes got even bigger.
“Okay, the first one is fucked up, I won’t deny it. But Chris is a creep, and probably deserved it. Did he deserve it?”
I sighed. “Yes.”
“Look, some guys think we can’t handle their truth. And if that’s a dealbreaker for you, that’s completely valid. But if it isn’t…it’s just another ‘should’ getting in the way of doing what’s right for you. Is the violence or the secrecy a dealbreaker, or another hurdle? Because I won’t lie, I think it’s kind of hot. Toxic as fuck, but hot.”
“A hurdle,” I admitted.
“Well. Then.” She dusted off her hands, temporarily forgetting the bottle of tequila was in one of them. It fell to the floor and rolled around. Fortunately, there was so little tequila left, no liquid spilled out.
“We should get that.”
I hopped off the bed, but the room spun around me, and I fell on my knees. Giggling, I crawled over to the bottle.
“What are you doing down there?” Lucy asked.
“Retrieving the rest of our liquor,” I told her. “Oh god, it’s really gross down here on this carpet. Did they not like, clean it before we moved in?”
We both burst into another round of giggles…
…And the door burst open.
Mason framed the doorway, his golden hair in his eyes. Seeing him made me dizzy again—in an entirely different way. He scanned the room, landing on me.
“Leslie, what are you doing on the floor?” he asked.
“Swimming,” I told him, and my silliness sent Lucy off into another round of giggles.
“You’re drunk,” he stated.
“Very,” I chirped.
He glanced at Lucy. “You did this to her?”
She nodded.
“Nice work.”
I peered up at him. “Are you being sarcastic, or serious? I can’t tell right now, my brain is too foggy to pick out your voice.”
“Both.”
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” I reminded him. “You were going out with the team tonight.”
“I know,” he said.
“And how’d you know I was drunk, anyway? Are there cameras I didn’t find?”
He shook his head. “No. I missed you, so I ditched the guys to come here.”
Oh.
My heart—well, I guess it was his now—melted even more.
Still. “You’re interrupting girl bonding time,” I told him.
“Nah,” Lucy disagreed. “Getting laid is more important than us metaphorically braiding each other’s hair. Besides, I’m too drunk to do a braid.”
I flipped over, pointing at Lucy in accusation, the room spinning around me. “Betrayal!”
She giggled. “Thank me later,” she singsonged.
And then I was being lifted into the air.
“If you puke on me, I’ll take it out on your little ass, later,” he said.
“Sounds fun,” I informed him. “And I might. I’ve never had so much tequila in my life.”
“Fucking awesome. Are you staying?” he asked Lucy.
“I don’t want to deal with my roommates. Leslie, okay if I crash here?”
“My tiny bed is your tiny bed,” I said.
“I hope not,” Mason muttered, carrying me out the door and down to his car.
He had to pull over twice, because I puked twice. He held my hair back and rubbed my back.
He did that a lot that night. We spent more time in the bathroom together—this time wearing clothes. The room span, and my head swam, and the only constant, solid thing was Mason. I held tight to him like a life raft as the alcohol swept me somewhere terrible. I must’ve puked on him at least once, but unlike his threat, he never complained or scolded me, just got me into the shower, washed my hair, brushed my teeth for me, and helped me into his bed.
He disappeared briefly, then reappeared with a trash can, a bottle of coconut water, and some Advil.
“This should help,” he told me, uncapping the bottle and holding it to my mouth as he handed me the pills. I obediently took a sip, swallowed the pills, and chugged the sweet, fresh-tasting drink. Then I collapsed onto the bed and he got in with me, pulling the covers up over both of us.
“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” I told him.
“I’m sorry I overwhelmed you so much you drank almost half a bottle of tequila,” he told me.
“It was a small bottle.”
“Still.”
“I’m still worried. I don’t know how this is going to work. But, Mason…”
“I know, butterfly. Shh. Go to sleep. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”