Chapter 11
CRUTCH
Sighing, she politely excuses herself, turning around to answer her phone. The tension in her shoulders is palpable. Based on that alone, I can already tell I don’t like this Hudson douche.
I shouldn’t eavesdrop on her side of the conversation. So, of course, I do.
“No, Hudson, I’m not coming to the movies tonight.”
…
“That’s not what I said. I said I would come if nothing else came up. Something else came up.”
…
“I’m doing homework. Reading and working on the theme paper.”
…
“I’m not at home.”
…
“I’m not alone.”
…
“Who am I with?”
She halfway turns, watching my movements out of the corner of her eye. Here it comes. The moment when a girl like this lies about being with a guy like me . It’s part of the reason I never sleep with a girl who actually knows me, knows where I come from, knows who my family is. It’s easier to be with a girl who only knows me as some guy she goes to college with. Some guy she met at the grocery store. Some guy she ran into at the mall, buying jeans.
Then, I can pretend. Pretend I’m someone normal. Pretend I’m some upper-middle-class college student. Worry free and living the young adult dream.
A girl like this never has to lie about a guy like that.
But Lulu isn’t a ‘girl like this’. I knew that the second my eyes cruised over that delicious backside of hers on the deck of my brother’s mobile home. Even though I wanted to pretend she wasn’t any different from the rich girls I typically screw, deep down, I knew she was.
“I’m with a friend, Hudson.”
Her words strike me to my core. Like a bolt of lightning.
Spinning away from me, she whisper-yells into the phone, rage growing with every question she answers. “Yes, a guy. And no, you don’t know him.”
…
“Why in the world do you wanna know his life story? He’s in college. He works at a body shop. He’s nice and kind and interesting. And he’s my friend. That’s all you need to know. And just so you know, I wasn’t even obligated to tell you that.” She sighs loudly. “Now, enjoy the movie. I’ll see you at school on Monday.”
She’s not ashamed of me.
I’m in trouble with this one. I know I am.
“Sorry about that.” Walking over to her backpack, she silences her phone and slides it into her bag. Sitting down, she covers herself with the blanket I put out for her.
The phone call irritated her. Her back is stiff and her chin tilts up in the air.
“So where do you go to school, Lulu?”
“North and Camden Academy.”
I whistle through my teeth. “The most expensive private school in the state?”
“That’s the one.”
“Well, do you like it?”
“It’s a school. Walls, floors, desks. Didn’t you just say that book smarts are overrated.”
I nod.
“Where did you go to school?” she asks.
“Public school. Out here, everyone is zoned for East County.”
She makes an odd face. “And you performed well there?”
I laugh. She’s so damn funny. “You wanna know if there’s a reason I think formal education is overrated. You wanna know if I’m smart or stupid. Do you think I’m stupid, Lulu?”
“No.”
Of course, I know I’m stupid. I keep seeing her, don’t I?
She pulls the blanket up around her neck, and I quickly toss some more wood on the fire to ward off her chill. A cold front is moving in tonight. She gifts me a soft smile in thanks. But it doesn’t last long. Holding to her own, she digs in, “So answer the question, then. Did you perform well there?”
I lace my fingers behind my head. “Valedictorian.”
“Seriously?” She can’t hide the shock in her voice. “What did you score on the ACT?”
Normally, I wouldn’t answer that question. That’s nobody’s business but mine. There’s lots of reasons I’ll enter a dick-measuring contest with someone, but an ACT score isn’t one of them. But she’s not asking to be competitive. She’s asking out of genuine intrigue.
“33.”
“Holy crap! A 33! That’s wonderful, Ry. I only scored a 30. I’m so proud of you.” Catching her intimate words, she blushes and then smiles. Smiles at me. Smiles for me. “I know you don’t want student loans, but what about scholarships?”
I scoff. “Schools don’t give scholarships to people like me. They give scholarships to people like you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Why the University of Virginia? I’m assuming they have a great architecture program, but why them? You have a full ride, don’t you?”
She refuses to look down. That’s not what Lulu does. But she doesn’t answer. And that silence is answer enough.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Did you try? Did you apply for scholarships? I’m sure you did, but I have to ask,” she says.
“Of course, I did, but I wasn’t one of the favorite pets of the school guidance counselor. She gave me no information about scholarships. She didn’t even reach out to the majority of the class for pre-graduation counseling. I did what I could on my own. I was awarded one scholarship for $1,000. That’s it.”
“It doesn’t make sense. Why?”
She’s so innocent. “Lulu, you don’t even have to do a background check on me to find out my brother and parents have all been in jail. A simple Google search will give you that information. I’m not exactly a scholarship poster boy.”
“That’s terrible. It’s not fair and it’s terrible,” she pouts.
Ignoring her comment, because how can I rebut it when I agree with it, I stand up and stretch, pulling my arms high above my head. My stomach must show because I catch her staring at my mid-section. Her heated gaze makes my dick pole vault in my pants.
Suddenly, I’m suffocating.
“Thirsty?”
She nods, following me to my truck with the blanket wrapped around her like a cape. Leaning in the back, I open the drink cooler and grab a bottle of water for her and a bottle of beer for me. Slamming the door, we lean against it. She downs half of her bottle in one fell swoop.
I’m an asshole. I should’ve offered her something to drink before now.
Taking a pull of my beer, I let the cool liquid coat my throat. Twisting the brown bottle back and forth in my hand makes me remember something. “When you dumped your beer, you said you weren’t a fan of lowered inhibitions. What does that mean? Did something happen?”
“I’ve only drank one time. Last year, it was a Cinco de Mayo party, and I thought I would try the margaritas. I didn’t really like the taste, but I liked the way it made my brain feel fuzzy. I didn’t think so much. On the flip side, not thinking has its disadvantages. I did something I shouldn’t have with someone I shouldn’t have.”
A vise clamps around my heart, squeezing it in a death grip. “You had sex with someone?” The Grim Reaper slices his scythe through my chest. Why does the thought of Lulu having sex with someone drive me insanely mad? The idea alone makes me feel unhinged.
“No, of course not. But I did kiss someone.”
“Who?”
She nods her head in the direction of her chair. In the direction of the phone nestled in her backpack.
“That Hudson guy?” I ask.
She nods, taking another drink of her water.
My voice is scratchy. I sound like I ate a damn cactus. “Well, it’s just kissing.” Is this how she feels about me kissing Carrie? Does it hurt like this?
“It wasn’t just any kiss. It was my first kiss. And now it’s tainted. Forever.”
I watch her fingers tear at the label on her bottle. If I thought I ate a damn cactus before, I’m not sure what the hell I just ate now. Glass? I have to clear my throat before words will even come out. “Well, just pretend your second kiss was your first kiss.”
“I will. When it happens.”
Fuck. Me.
I reach over and put my beer bottle in the bed of my truck, and slowly spin around, placing my body right in front of Lulu’s. She bumps back against the closed truck door. Taking the water bottle from her hand, I lean over, setting it down next to mine. I’m so close, my chest brushes against her large breasts.
I don’t pull back. I’m not giving her space. I can’t. I need to be in her space.
I push the blanket from her shoulders.
I need to do something with my hands. If I don’t control them, they will be everywhere. On her. In her.
I’m an asshole. But I’m not that kind of asshole.
I lift my arms and grip the roof of my truck so tightly I think I break my knuckles. And the whole time, her eyes never leave mine.
I love it that she doesn’t shy away. Ever.
I hate it that she doesn’t shy away. Ever.
When her trembling hands travel up and glide underneath my shirt, stroking the sides of my waist and ribcage, I nearly lose my shit.
Her whisper becomes the end of my life as I know it. “Ry.”
Bending my head, I crash my lips to hers. Our kiss doesn’t start softly. It doesn’t start gently. Immediately, I part her lips with my tongue, thrusting into her mouth, exploring her, tasting her.
I’ve never had a kiss like this before. She matches me, stroke for stroke. Giving, taking. Making me new. Making me feel like I’m a better man. She pulls my body against hers, rubbing against me, moaning into the kiss.
We kiss until neither of us can breathe, function. Slowly, I pull my tongue from her mouth, leaving my lips resting against hers. Our hot breath mingles, carrying air from my lungs to hers, and back again.
And that’s when I see it. When I feel it. Her body relaxes, her shoulders roll forward, and she sighs deeply, contently.
This is Lulu.
Lulu is a completely different person from the Ella everyone in her circle knows.
And Lulu is all mine.