Round Twenty-Five
MAGGIE
“Are you okay?” Billy presses a gentle kiss to my left shoulder blade, his heart pounding against my back as our breaths whistle in sync, and outside this room, Ramone’s house party pulses with music and chattering friends.
At my silence, he moves across and kisses my right shoulder blade. “Magnolia?”
“Mmhm.” Weak, I lay uncomfortably against cold porcelain and allow the vanity to take all of my weight.
My body hurts all over. My hips sing, no doubt bruised from the edge of the stone countertop, and my legs tingle with pins and needles.
My pussy aches, and my throat feels scratchy from overuse.
But I tilt my head to the side, resting my cheek on my bicep, and meet his tender eyes in the mirror. “I’m okay.”
His lips quirk into a smile. It’s smug and entirely too similar to the arrogance he wears when we argue, but the soft sweep of his fingertips on my back makes the smugness less potent.
“You look like all my filthy dreams right now. Skirt up, ass out.” He releases a throaty grunt.
“Your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He drags his tongue along the valley of my spine, which somehow makes my toes curl and my brain circle around intrusive thoughts.
Can we do it again? So soon? “Did I hurt you?”
“Little bit.”
He straightens behind me, his eyes widening.
“But the good kind of hurt,” I rasp. “The kind of hurt that feels amazing.” Sleepy now, I simply allow my eyes to drift closed. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
Snorting, he brings his hand down to my ass and rubs soothing circles where he hit. “I liked it.”
“Mm. Me too. This was way better than fighting with you all the time.”
He chuckles, the bounce of his body knocking against mine. “Agreed. And to think, all those times we stood on our respective lawns and took shots at each other, we could’ve been doing this.”
“Hindsight,” I sigh.
A knock on the bathroom door destroys my relaxed state, my eyes swinging open and my torso coming off the porcelain.
“Anyone in there?” Ramone’s voice makes my heart skip, then another knock brings my eyes to Billy’s in the mirror. “Hello?”
“Ah… yep.” Billy clears his throat, gently sliding out of me and dragging my skirt down to cover my ass. “It’s me. I’ll be out in a sec.”
“You okay?” Another knock. “You’ve been in there awhile. If you’re puking or something, make sure you clean the damn mess up.”
“I’m not puking, dickhead!” He snatches up my panties, which aren’t panties at all—they’re swimsuit bottoms. Setting them on the counter beside my hand, he goes to work peeling his condom off and tying a knot in the end. “I can use the bathroom without your supervision, Ramone. Go away.”
Oh God.
Oh God.
Oh God.
I step into my underwear with frenzied movements, yanking the smooth fabric over my tender backside and dragging my denim skirt down to cover everything that needs covering.
Billy drops his condom in the trashcan and whips his boxers and jeans up properly, then he refastens the button and fixes his belt.
“Relax.” He washes his hands and slaps the faucet off again.
Without drying them, he turns to me and drags his palms over my face, over my cheeks and lips, so when my vision is clear again, he smiles down at me.
The real kind of smile. The smile of a boy I once knew.
“You still look beautiful. You still appear respectable.” He leans in and nibbles on my lips.
“You’re still my favorite person to bicker with. ”
“Dude!” Ramone knocks again. “Let’s go! I’ve gotta piss, too.”
A pained whimper rolls along my throat. “He’s gonna know.”
“He’s been angling for this since the day I almost arrested you.
” Billy dives in, his tongue darting forward to tap against mine.
His breath scorches my lungs. He makes it so he’s all I can see.
All I can taste. Feel. Know. Then he breaks our kiss with a hungry gasp and rests his forehead on mine.
“He hosted this whole fucking barbecue purely to push me and you together for a day.”
“He did?”
“Mm.” Another gentle kiss on my lips. “He did. So I need you to relax. Take a breath, straighten your shoulders, and walk out of here like the fuckin’ goddess you are.
Everything is gonna be okay.” He pulls back and wraps his hand around mine.
“On a scale of one to absolutely don’t fucking touch me, how okay would you be with me making you share my seat when we go out there? ”
Stunned, my eyes flare wide.
“Pull you onto my lap,” he snickers. “Kiss you anytime I want.”
My cheeks drain white. I feel it. “Uh…”
“Too soon?” Grinning, he lays one last kiss on my cheek, then he releases my hand and opens the door. “You’re a pain in my ass, Ramone. Jesus. Have a little patience.”
Ramone’s eyes, slate gray and entirely too smug, stop on mine. He looks me up and down, his smirk growing wider for every second our trio remains silent, then he stops on my face again and nods. “Good.”
“Zip it.” Billy pushes his partner back and clears the doorway. “Magnolia?”
“Yeah.” I dart forward, squeezing between the duo so, for a single moment in time, my shoulders touch both detectives at once, then I skid into the hall and simply… well, I melt down a little. I press my hand to my thundering heart and groan. “Oh my God,” I wheeze. “Oh, God.”
“You’re okay.” Billy’s fingers come to the small of my back and lead me away from the bathroom.
“You want another drink?” He walks me straight into the kitchen, and since there are others out here, eyes that may be interested in the things we do or don’t do, he stops touching and opens the fridge instead.
“Beer? Soda?” He glances across and grins.
So freakin’ satisfied with himself! “Magnolia?”
“Soda.” I drag the sleeves of my sweater over my hands and bring my thumbnail up between my lips. “Please.”
“Such lovely manners.” He grabs two cans of raspberry soda and straightens his back, slamming the door and facing me again. “You done with your crisis yet? Wanna go outside and socialize?”
“Dad!” Jeremy strides through the doorway with an angry little scowl and a wrinkle already lining his forehead. “I was looking for you, but I couldn’t find you.”
“Sorry, buddy.” Just as easily as pulling on a favorite shirt, or slipping into a pair of comfortable shoes, Billy steps away from me and transforms from the man he is when it’s just us, into the dad he must be when his son is around. “I was in the bathroom. Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” His eyes narrow to suspicious slits, but as he peeks past his dad and stops on me, they soften like melted butter. “I couldn’t find you either, Maggie. I was looking everywhere.”
“I’ve been around.” I paste on my most convincing smile and extend my hand. “Wanna walk out with me? Do you think there’s any food left over? I’m kinda hungry, but Ramone turned the barbecue off hours ago.”
“There’s food.” He steps around his father and latches onto my hand.
“I stole an entire bag of chips earlier.” Grinning, he shows off enough gaps in his teeth to tell the world exactly how rich he is now.
He’s got tens of… tens of dollars to his name.
“I thought maybe I would be hungry later, and Molly always eats all the good stuff, so I swiped a bag and hid them under the porch out back.” He leads me out of the kitchen and into the fairy-lit yard. “I’ll share them with you, Maggie.”
“You really would?”
“Yuh. Did you bring your swimsuit? After we eat, we could go into the hot tub. It’s toasty warm, but I knew I wouldn’t be allowed to go in unless my dad was watching.”
“Is that why you were looking for him?”
He leads me down the steps, carefully holding my hand so I don’t stumble, and turns right the instant my feet touch grass. “Yep. I wanna make human soup—”
“Human soup?” I wrinkle my nose. “Ew!”
He cackles and brings me to the corner of the porch.
Looking left, then right, he scouts for watchful eyes, and when the coast is clear, he shoves his hand into the dark depths beneath and comes out again fisting a party-sized bag of chicken crinkle-cut chips.
“Hot tubs are basically human soup, ya know? Warm water, people, boiling. We’re practically melting the meat off our bones like we do when we make chicken soup.
” He looks up at me with condescending eyes.
“You’d know that if you actually cooked children in a cauldron. ”
“You’ve just ruined hot tubs for me for the rest of my life, you know that? So gross.”
“I think if we’re only in there for maybe twenty minutes and the water doesn’t get too hot, we’ll probably be okay.” He tears the bag open and presents the fruits of his hunting and gathering. “You get first pick.”
“Oh, well, thank you.” I dip my hand into the packet and take out a special curled chip. “I’m kinda starving.”
“Wait!” He stops me from shoving it into my mouth. “You should make a wish. Curled chips like that are rare, so if you make a wish and then eat it, it’s kinda the same as wishing on a star.”
“Really?”
“Mmhm.” He pokes through the bag and searches for his own.
“Bump them together, like when adults do with their drinks, eat the curled chip, and for extra chances, I reckon you should look up at the stars. Then make your wish. That’s triple luck, which probably means your wish will for sure come true. ”
“Your logic is sound. Are you ready?”
Eager, he bobs his head, glances at the dark sky, and murmurs his wish under his breath, his little lips moving with each word he speaks.
“You gotta do yours, too.” He cuts a quick look my way. “Don’t watch me! Make your own wish, silly.”
“Oh, shoot! Right.” My cheeks ache, the best kind of ache, as I tip my head back and search for my very own star. Drawing a deep breath, I close my eyes and wish…
For Aria Sinclair’s forgiveness. Because I’m here when she should be.
Because I fell in love with the little boy she grew in her belly, carried for nine months, endured the pain of childbirth, and in the end, never got to know him anyway.
I wish for forgiveness because I dreamed of the man she married, even throughout the years he was hers.
Maybe I claimed him first, way back on my first day of kindergarten when he towered over me, smiling with his gap-toothed charm, and offered to carry my bag because it was larger than me.
Literally. Maybe Aria Sinclair didn’t even meet him until a year after that, sashaying her pigtailed self into class after her family moved to town.
Even then, her pigtails didn’t turn his head, our friendship endured, and not once in all the time I knew him did he prefer her company over mine.
But it happened eventually. Obviously.
I left, and she stayed, rendering my claim nothing more than a wish cast to the stars by a child enamored with her first ever boy crush.
Twenty-five years have passed since then, and if she were still alive, my claim would be worth nothing. Next-door neighbors or not, sometimes-babysitter or not, if Aria Sinclair had lived, I wouldn’t be here tonight, and please forgive me, my body wouldn’t be trembling from her husband’s touch.
Desperate, I count on my triple-strength wish and pray for her forgiveness.
“Wow,” Jeremy breathes, the crinkle of his chip packet drawing my eyes back down. “That must’ve been a doozy, huh? You wished for a while.”
“Only wishes worth making are the big kind.” I drop my hand onto the top of his head and inhale a shuddering, aching breath, because Jeremy Caster doesn’t just settle for my hand in his hair.
He sidles up against my side and presses his cheek to my ribs, wrapping his arm around my hip and holding me close.
He hugs me, chews noisily, and grins through the mashed potato in his teeth. “I wish you could tell me your wish, Maggie. It looked like a really good one.” Soft laughter bounces through his chest. “Oh my gosh! My dad is so silly.”
“What?” My heart kicks into the next gear as I look left. Then right. I look back down at the boy, then I follow his line of sight and watch Billy peel his shirt over his head and unsnap his jeans. “What is he doing?”
“Human soup!” Jeremy slams the bag of chips against my belly and takes off at a sprint. “Throw me in, Dad! Quick, before Ramone says there’s no jumping.”