Chapter 26 Summer
Summer
“Idon’t know about this.” I tug at the tight material stretching over every curve, including my baby bump.
When I let it go, it snaps back into place, clinging to the rolls and dimples on my ample body.
I like tight clothes. I like to show off my boobs and look good.
And I love how Rebel loves my boobs and all my curves.
But I let my insecurity take that from me these past few months. And then I came home and all the horrible things people in town used to call me rang in my ears like those people were right in front of my face.
Hearing him tell me how hot my curves still are... how much he wants me... and how much he loves my growing belly... reminded me I’m a sexual being.
But the idea of wearing this in front of people makes those voices from my past louder than they should be.
A creeping sensation runs over my skin, and I scoop my red curls over one shoulder and run my fingers through them.
My breathing has shallowed. I focus on a single cleansing breath. “This isn’t me.”
“What?” Kelsey’s perched on a pink heart shaped chair. She cradles a zebra patterned cushion over her stomach, a still full glass of champagne in her hand.
She hasn’t touched it, which I notice because it wasn’t that long ago that I was hiding my own not drinking.
Is that why she’s been weird all day? Or am I projecting?
Riot never mentioned her dating someone.
Possibly because he’s been busy with his own secret affair.
Despite his denial over anything going on, those photos with the pop princess weren’t fake.
“It’s practically scandalous.” A blush creeps up my neck and face and my skin grows clammy the longer I peruse my image in the huge, ornate mirror.
“What are you talking about?” Adira asks. “You’ve worn hotter things than that.”
“Yes. But that’s L.A. It’s not here. In Devil’s Bend.” Where time stopped somewhere in the 1950s. And everyone already thinks I’m a slut.
“Honey. Who cares what some podunk town folk think? These narrow-minded fools aren’t invited, and their opinions certainly don’t count.
Outside of your brothers and that lovely florist anyway.
And even then, their opinions don’t count when it comes to what you’re wearing.
Stop letting them live rent free in your head and shame you.
” Adira lifts his chin to haughty levels and stares me down as he rises from another heart shaped chair to his full high-heeled height.
“Honey, it’s dulling your awesomeness. And we don’t do dull around here, do we, girls? ”
One of the queens who are chatting at the other end of the tent stops his conversation to reply, “We do theatrical, dramatic. Never dull, darling.”
“Amen, sister.” Yvanna Bey Yaluva raises his champagne glass.
“Exactly,” Adira says. Raise your glasses, ladies. Fuck them.”
They all raise their glasses with a resounding chorus of ‘fuck them’.
I study myself in the mirror again. Adira is right. I have worn sexier numbers in the city and haven’t second guessed myself like this. “I know you’re right, but I’m still not sure…”
“You’re fabulous and you should flaunt it. Don’t you want that man of yours to drool buckets over you? Although, it’s not drool we want in those buckets, is it?”
He mimics jerking off and then ejaculating through a fire hose. Sweeping around in a circle, he pretends to cover the entire tent.
Ivy laughs until she snorts. “That’s gross.”
“We finally had sex. I’m back on the horse.
” I spin back to the mirror. The entire top of the bodysuit is see-through.
The black lace bra I’m wearing underneath peeks out, teasing as it provides coverage.
Anywhere else and I would be tempted to wear this.
Rebel’s gaze glued to me all night, his hands on me constantly, his voice whispering dirty things in my ear is incredibly tempting.
But the words in the card I opened are still there underneath. Leave, Slut. Or I’ll make you.
I hate that I’m letting them get to me.
“Yay.” Adira claps his hands excitedly.
“Fuck them.” I whisper, plucking at the band around one of my thighs.
The elastic is keeping the bottom of the body suit from riding up my ass.
Are people going to stare? Yes, probably my brothers will because those overprotective neanderthals still try too damn hard to treat me like I’m not a grown woman.
Catering staff, maybe. Security? Well, we do pay them to keep an eye on us.
The rest of the guests are friends and family.
“Rebel will lose his shit if I wear this.”
“Yes,” Adira says.
“Owen will have an aneurism.” Because that’s his default setting.
“Yep,” Ivy says.
“They already can’t stand each other. What will happen if they let more testosterone fly?”
“We’ll take bets.” Yvanna Bey Yulava pulls a folded twenty from his cleavage and holds it up. “Twenty on one of them ending up with a split lip.”
“I have fifty on the big Heart whooping Rebel’s ass,” Adira says.
I gasp. “Adira.”
“Sorry.” He shrugs. “If it’s any consolation I hope I lose.”
“One hundred on Rebel.” Kelsey lights up her phone. “I’ll start a bet tracker.”
“Oh.” Ivy’s eyes widen. “Oh. I have a hundred on them working together.”
“What?” Is she serious? If I’ve learned anything today, the likelihood of my lover and my eldest brother getting along anywhere in the near future is nought.
“I’m betting on myself.” I lift my head up high.
Adira claps his hands together. “Yes, queen. Slay.”
“We still need to do your makeup and hair.” Adira peruses the selection of mannequin heads set out on trellis tables. “Silver? Blue? Black? What will it be?”
“I’m thinking fiery red.” I pat my natural curls and drape them over one shoulder. “I’m also going to need boots and a jacket.”
Ivy hurries into the wardrobe and comes back with a knee length jacket, thigh high boots, and stockings; the kind that hook to a garter but will clip to the body suits shorts.
“You’re going to outshine everyone,” Adira says once my outfit is complete. “Except the bride. Never outshine the bride.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” But I won’t hide myself because this is Devil’s Bend either. Not anymore.
“Love, it’s your turn to try on your costume choices.” Adira ushers her into the changing room.
I drop down on the fluffy, white love seat between the bright chairs while Ivy and Adira are in the other room.
There’s a selection of canapes on the table in front of me, and I’m starving.
I scoop dip onto a cracker and pop it in my mouth, then reach for a piece of cheese. “You’re not drinking, Kelsey?”
“I was sick yesterday. The tour doctor told me to take it easy for a few days.” She places the champagne flute on the table. “I figure that includes alcohol.”
“Anything serious?” I hadn’t noticed before, but she does appear under the weather.
“No. Nope.” She glances at the door like she wants out.
“I hope you feel better.”
“Thanks.” She hugs herself tighter. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, and I’ll be feeling like myself in no time.”
“I’m sure you will.” I nibble on another cracker. How do I ask her if she’s seeing anyone without being obvious? “How long have Riot and Sonatina been going on?”
“Nothing is going on,” she says as Ivy sweeps into the room in a teensy black cat burglar costume, fishnets, a mask, and kitty ears.
Around her thigh she has a bridal garter. She swings a pair of metal cuffs from one finger.
“Handcuffs?” This feels familiar.
“At Bianca’s Halloween birthday bash, Rogue handcuffed me to the bed in order to prove I was real.” She lifts both eyebrows suggestively as she locks the handcuffs onto her wrists before slipping out of them. “I stole away before he could, and Rebel thought Rogue was losing it.”
“I can’t believe I forgot about that.” Rogue had gone to therapy after that.
“He wanted to remind Rebel he was wrong.”
“Of course he did.” I laugh.
Ivy turns to Kelsey. “So, what happened? Because those pictures paint a story, and those captions all but spell out relationship. Everyone is conjecturing.” Obviously she overheard our conversation.
“Seriously. There’s no story. I was there last night when he met her. It was the first time they’d ever talked.” Kelsey hurries to the bar. She pours herself a fresh drink, this time my non-alcoholic bubbly, then downs the glassful. “She threw herself at him. It was drama for drama’s sake.”
“Meow.” Adira claws at the air. “Someone sounds jealous.”
“No.” Kelsey can’t keep the bitterness from seeping, through. “I’m not.”
“You do sound jealous,” Ivy says. “It sounds like you may be more than friends. Or maybe you want to be?”
“I’m not talking about this.”
How didn’t I notice? It’s suddenly obvious Kelsey is in love with Riot.
“We caught them in Mojito on my birthday. And the treehouse on fakesgiving,” Ivy admits.
“That was months ago. Wasn’t he still with Rochelle then?” Was I that oblivious? Does Rebel know?
Kelsey doesn’t meet my eye. “Neither of us meant for anything to happen. Ever. I regret that it started while he was dating Rochelle, but it wasn’t until she broke up with him that we slept together.”
When Rochelle ended it with Riot, did she have an inkling that he wasn’t fully invested in their relationship? That there was someone else?
“I tried to resign from managing the band at Christmas. And then again on New Year’s. But each time he talked me into staying.”
“Talking?” Ivy teases. “Was that what Rogue and I caught you doing at Mojito?”
Kelsey’s cheeks glow.
“Does he not know how you feel about him?” I ask.
“Uh, he knows.” She eventually looks at us. “We’re together.”
“That’s awesome.” Ivy sweeps her into a hug.
“Don’t tell anyone, please.” Kelsey holds her at arm’s length and then catches each of our gazes. “We wanted to tell everyone at the same time. Can we pretend like I didn’t spill the tea early?”