4. I Knew You Were Trouble #2
Maggie just shrugs. “What can I say? It’s the universal rule.
Hot girls don’t need to have ‘game.’ I could hit any of the guys here over the head with one of these lawn chairs, and at least ninety percent of them would still take me upstairs to bury the proverbial bone.
But that’s beside the point. Don’t let some unintentional cockblocking get in the way of treating yourself to some good D. God knows you need it.”
“Except I don’t. At least, not from him.”
“I don’t follow.”
We both plop down into a set of old foldout chairs on the other side of the deck, out of ear’s reach.
“The party was about as miserable as expected, so I went outside to get some fresh air. This guy and I started talking—”
“Was he hot?”
“Beside the point.”
She rolls her eyes. “Like hell it is.”
“Okay, fine ,” I growl. “He was.”
“On a scale of one to ten?”
“Eleven,” I admit, albeit begrudgingly.
“And you’re angry about meeting this smoldering sex god, because…?”
I cringe at the mere recollection of events. “We used to go to school together.”
“So, where’s the five-alarm fire?” She studies me suspiciously before gasping. “Wait a sec! You didn’t give this guy your V-card back in the day, did you?”
I snort. “Try the exact opposite.”
“He gave you your V-card?” Maggie all-out cackles. “I know I didn’t really pay attention during Sex Ed, but I’m pretty sure that’s not how things work.”
I chuck an empty Solo cup at her face, but I must be tipsier than I initially thought, because I miss her by at least a foot. “Could you try to be serious?”
This only makes her laugh harder.
It takes a few minutes and a handful of glares from me before she can rein in her humor. “So, what’s your history with this guy that he’s got your panties all in a bunch?”
“He made high school a living hell for me.”
“And yet you two still almost made a beast with two backs?” she teases.
I slump back in the chair, shaking my head so hard my brain practically rattles.
“Spill, Chica. What’s his name, and what did he do? Read your diary in front of the class? Embarrass you in front of your crush? Tell everybody that you had genital warts?” A sly smile pulls at her lips. “Not speaking from experience or anything.”
At this, I can’t help but laugh. “His name is Jase Rivers, and no, he never bullied me. At least, not directly.”
Maggie frowns. “What? Was he the Golden Boy? Got his minions to do his dirty work?”
“No, that was Trent.”
“Huh?”
It takes everything in me not to knock back the entire bottle in my hand.
“To cut a long story short, I was once stupid enough to think Jase had a backbone…or that he wasn’t a dick.
” I have to take another swig from my drink, the burn of the alcohol now proving to be the only thing keeping the tears from my eyes.
“I thought we had become friends at some point, but as soon as sophomore year began, I was suddenly the Untouchables’ number one target. ”
And they never let up, even after Jase was gone.
Maggie’s lips turn down. “The ‘Untouchables’?”
“His friends,” I clarify, “a.k.a. all of the popular kids.”
“How bad was it?”
“Let’s just say a lie about genital warts would have been child’s play. Jase never intervened on my behalf, and they never let up on me. Hell, Sienna and Trent harassed me even during our graduation ceremony.”
Now Maggie’s glaring at me like I’m a special breed of stupid. “Explain to me how you didn’t recognize this Jase guy after only one year of being away?”
I shoot the same glare right back. “He moved to California before the end of sophomore year.” Which now explains the tanned skin and sun-bleached hair. A New England summer can’t compete with year-round sunshine. “And before you start, yes, those three years made a difference. A big difference.”
Jase had gone from being a bad boy to being a bad man .
My best friend still isn’t convinced, so she begins her hunt on social media. Any of Jase’s accounts she comes across are all set to private, and the profile images only show the ocean, but she’s able to find pictures other users have tagged him in. “Daaaamn.”
The last thing I want to see right now is his face, but I lean over to at least verify it’s Jase in the photo. It’s only a few months old, showcasing his rugged good looks and muscled form in a pair of swim trunks out on the beach.
I snatch the phone away from her, and though it takes time to scroll far enough back through the timeline, I find a picture of Jase from sophomore year on his mom’s account. When Maggie sees the discrepancies for herself, there’s no denying it.
He’s not the same kid he was when we started hanging out, tanned skin and lighter hair aside.
Five inches in height, forty pounds of pure muscle, the scar, his nose, the facial hair, and—most importantly—the chiseled cheekbones that replaced any hint of a baby face; it all paints a very, very different picture.
I try not to think about it, but my brain can’t stop replaying that kiss. His hands on my body, his hips grinding against mine, the pressure of his lips…
My body awakens at the mere thought—the horny bitch—and I’m forced to literally shake my head, hoping the effort is enough to discard the image.
Thankfully, Maggie does the job for me when she repeats Jase’s last name, the moniker obviously ringing a bell. “Why does that sound familiar?”
“His father used to be in Congress.”
Her eyebrows lift in recognition, only to slam back down as she grimaces. “Wasn’t he involved in some big scandal?”
“Yep.”
“That’s not the same guy who was accused of assaulting his staffer, is it?”
The very mention has bile rising up my throat. “No, that would be Senator Walker.”
“Ah.” Even in her tipsy state, she’s able to recall the headlines from more than two years ago. “That’s the Charlotte Hinckley case, right?”
Indeed.
Funny how PR works in this town. A state senator is leveled with sexual assault accusations, yet the media made sure that the general populace could only remember who filed the claims.
Though the rape allegations were oh-so-conveniently dismissed before they ever made their way to court, some less-than-savory facts still saw the light of day as text messages were leaked to the press, showing that Senator Walker was at least having an affair with the twenty-year-old staffer in question.
He had lied about being separated from his wife, and shortly after news reports confirmed Mrs. Walker was pregnant with their first child, the rape allegations came about.
The Senator’s smear campaign against Charlotte painted her as the temptress who had seduced a weak-minded man.
And when he supposedly tried to break things off with her, she retaliated by making up a bunch of bullshit to ruin his career.
And now that’s all the public really remembers.
Anytime an allegation like this comes up, the media can’t help but “speculate” if the woman being discussed is “just another Charlotte Hinckley looking for fifteen minutes of fame.”
If they only knew what really happened…
I grip the bottle in my hand hard enough that I’m surprised the glass doesn’t break, and when my cell sounds off, I damn near jump out of my skin.
Maggie instantly sits up. “This Jase guy doesn’t have your number, does he?”
I shake my head, grateful to see my father’s name flashing across the screen.
“Where are you?” he asks the instant I answer.
“I’m just, uh…chatting with some people out on the terrace,” I say, praying he can’t hear 50 Cent’s “ Candy Shop ” playing quite clearly from the pool area not thirty feet away.
“Real smooth,” Maggie mouths, mocking my awkward delivery.
I toss another Solo cup at her head. “What’s up?”
“Well, I’m not sure what time Blythe and I will be leaving, so I didn’t know if you needed to make other driving arrangements,” Dad says, his voice taking on a clear note of unease.
“What are you talking about? I drove to the club.”
He sighs, the sound anything but relieved. “She didn’t ask you, did she?”
“ Who didn’t ask me what ?”
“Vanessa left about a half hour ago…”
“So?”
“She sort of…took your car,” he mumbles.
“Come again?” And now my grip tightens so hard that Maggie has to pry my fingers open to prevent me from crushing my cell. “How is that even possible? I have the claim ticket!”
“I don’t know. She probably swayed the valet. Vanessa told me she okayed it with you.”
“No, not exactly,” I growl as Maggie places the phone on speaker.
“You know how your sister feels about taking car services,” Dad sighs again, as if that should somehow pacify me.
Maggie lifts an eyebrow in question.
“Vanessa refuses to use ride-hailing apps, because ‘they don’t properly vet their drivers,’” I mock, taking on my sister’s snippy tone for that last part.
I don’t even bother to cover my phone’s mouthpiece.
Thankfully, I don’t think my dad hears the remark, because loud chatter erupts in the background on his end of the call for a solid minute.
“Can you find a ride?” he finally asks when there’s a lull.
I drop the phone to my lap and let out a silent scream. “Yeah, I’ll just solicit sex in exchange for a lift on the side of the road. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, be safe,” he replies routinely before hanging up.
Maggie’s forced to spit out the liquor she’s in the middle of swallowing to avoid choking on it. “He did not just say that!”
“He’s not paying attention,” I grumble.
What else is new?