Chapter 15
TJ
“ W hat are you fuckers doing for spring break?” Chance’s voice is barely audible over the loud music playing on the patio speaker.
Aaron’s head snaps up. “I told you I’m going to Milan with my folks.”
We get it, asshole. You’re rich.
I can’t stand the guy. He’s fucking annoying with his perfect life and his perfect grades and his perfect, happy family that takes him all around the world.
For what it’s worth, I think the feeling’s mutual. Aaron hates my guts. It’s been that way for a while.
I drop on one of the loungers in the guys’ backyard, watching Chance and Aaron splatter each other in the pool. Thank fuck Coach gave us the night off. He’s been riding our backs all week in preparation for the tournaments coming up.
My focus drifts to Theo having a staring contest with his phone on the lounger across from mine.
My guess? He’s back in touch with Ashley. He seemed a little too happy at practice yesterday. He wouldn’t tell us anything, but the first thing he did once Coach was done whooping our asses was check his messages.
I don’t know what spell this Ashley chick has got him under, but my man has it bad .
“Cox, what about you? Are you doing anything for spring break?” Chance asks, and Theo doesn’t even look up from his phone.
You’d think he’s scared he’s going to miss her text if he doesn’t stare at his phone twenty-four seven.
Theo shrugs. “Take a wild fucking guess. It’s not like I’m going home to my parents.”
I scoff. “They’re still ball-busting assholes, huh?”
He throws his head back against the lounger he’s sitting on with a sigh. “You have no idea.”
From what he told me when we were roommates, getting that basketball scholarship to Duke was his ticket to freedom. His folks are abusive pricks who never supported a single thing he did, and he cut them out of his life after high school.
He says it doesn’t bother him, but it’s got to suck having nowhere to go for the holidays. My mom might be gone, but at least I have Kelsea. And Vera.
“Jacobs?” Chance asks.
“No, nothing,” I say. I must have five dollars to my name right now, even with my scholarship, so going out of town to party and drink myself into an early grave wasn’t an option.
That’s the main reason why I couldn’t pay Lacey for her lessons. If I’d had the money, I would’ve compensated her in a heartbeat.
“Then it’s decided. You’re all coming to my dad’s cabin next weekend,” Chance declares like we don’t have much of a choice in the matter.
My interest is piqued. “No way, you landed the cabin?”
“Damn right. It took a little convincing, but I got my dad to let us use it.”
“Can we invite people?” Theo asks, and I immediately know by people, he means Ashley . He spent nearly two years being mad at her for leaving, but the second she got back into town, he reverted back into a professional simp.
“Sure. The more, the merrier. Just tell me beforehand.”
Maybe I should follow Theo’s lead and invite Lacey.
I haven’t been making much progress with her. Whisking her away to Chance’s dad’s cabin could be just the thing I need to get her to open up to me.
Like I said it out loud, Aaron asks, “So, TJ… I’m guessing you’re inviting Lacey? You’re still casually dating , right?”
What the fuck is his problem?
“It’s just, I haven’t seen you two together lately. Trouble in paradise?”
My fists clench at my sides, but I’m careful to keep my irritation from bleeding through my facade. “We’re fine, thanks.”
“Glad to hear it,” Aaron says, but it’s obvious he doesn’t mean it.
“Everybody ready for midterms?” Chance changes the subject, and I’m reminded that I am way behind on my studies.
I’ve been so busy with practice I haven’t had a minute to myself. I texted Lacey after she left me hanging in the shed last week, asking when we could meet up for our lesson, and she replied but kept her answers short and straight to the point. She said she’d get back to me closer to the weekend, but today’s Friday, and I haven’t heard back.
I grab my phone out of my pocket, about to text her, when I see a message from my sister.
Kelsea
Can you drive me to Sierra’s place tomorrow? We’re having a sleepover.
I grin, typing back a quick “OK” and hitting Send.
What my sister doesn’t realize is that she just handed me the perfect excuse on a golden platter.
Lacey
TJ
Be there in ten.
I drop onto my bed with a heavy sigh, mentally scolding myself for not working harder to find a way out of this.
TJ texted me yesterday and told me he would be dropping off his sister around dinnertime tonight and we should take the opportunity to have one last lesson before midterms roll around. He didn’t even ask if I had plans.
I didn’t, but still .
Maybe I should’ve told him I was hanging out with Dia and Aveena. After all, me having a life isn’t so far outside the realm of possibilities that I couldn’t have had plans with my best friends on a Saturday night, but I figured bailing on him would be a dick move. Especially seeing as he really needs my help to prepare for the upcoming exams.
I told myself to suck it up and that, after this, I wouldn’t have to see him again until we got back from spring break, but now that he’s on his way over? My mind is racing with a million reasons why I need to slam the brakes on our little arrangement .
Being friends with benefits with TJ seemed like a good idea and all, but it turns out that droolworthy body of his isn’t the only thing I missed this week.
We were both so busy with schoolwork and, in TJ’s case, basketball practice that we didn’t see each other at all, but I caught myself wanting to text him a few times.
To tell him when something funny happened at work. To ask him how he was doing and if he’d gotten the results of his last tests. To know if he was mad at me for abandoning him in the shed with a bad case of blue balls.
That was my first clue. It’s made me doubt whether or not this friends-with-benefits thing could actually work and if sleeping with him would bring me a lot more pain than pleasure in the long run.
I’m not trying to catch feelings for this guy. I know TJ’s type. Guys like that—guys who can get any girl they want without even trying—they can’t be trusted with a woman’s heart. I learned my lesson with Theo. I’m not putting myself through that again.
It’s decided. I’m going to tell him I can’t do it. That I got caught in the heat of the moment, and I agreed to something I wasn’t ready for.
The chime of the doorbell interrupts my spiraling, and I rise off my bed, concocting the perfect “I don’t want to sleep with you” speech in my head.
He might be disappointed, but not as much as I would’ve been if I’d allowed this thing to go further.
“She’s here,” Sierra singsongs on her way out of her bedroom, and it arouses my suspicions.
She’s been in a cheerful mood all week. I know my sister—her default mode is blasé teenager with a resting bitch face, and while I don’t mind her newfound happiness, it seems fishy.
I asked her about it, and she just said she loved her new school and the friends she was making there.
I turn the corner to see my sister flinging the door open. Sure enough, TJ and his sister are standing on the other side.
“Kelseeea!” Sierra throws herself at her new bestie with open arms.
TJ and I watch our sisters hug and exchange quick glances. We’re obviously thinking the same thing. As long as our sisters are best friends, we’re stuck seeing each other.
Kelsea and Sierra have become extremely close over the past two months. From what I’ve seen, they text and talk on the phone every night. I hear Sierra laughing whenever I walk past her room, and every time I ask her who she’s on the phone with, she says it’s Kelsea.
For all I know, she might be lying, but I didn’t have the energy to pick a fight with her without concrete evidence. As long as she’s not sneaking out of her window and into college parties, I’m happy.
“Mattson,” TJ greets me with a nod, which I return before stepping aside to let them in.
The girls have disappeared into Sierra’s room in the blink of an eye, and TJ and I are left to stare at each other.
“You ready for our lesson?” he asks to break the silence.
“Of course.”
I love how we’re just pretending like I wasn’t coming on his face less than a week ago.
This isn’t weird at all .
I gesture for him to follow me with a flick of my chin. “Come on.”
I make a beeline for my bedroom instead of the couch—i.e., our usual spot. My back’s been hurting like crazy from having to wear the most uncomfortable shoes at work, and the couch that came with the apartment feels like it’s made of stone.
I could manage my pain when I was working reasonable hours, but I’ve been killing myself, picking up doubles every chance I get to make up for missing a week when I was sick. I’ve worked every night this week.
I knew my work shoes were on their last legs, but I thought I’d tough them out until the end of the year at least.
“We’re not going to the living room?” TJ asks behind me.
I push my bedroom door open. “My back is killing me. I’d feel more comfortable in my bed, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure. Whatever you want.”
I plop down onto my bed with a groan and prop up a pillow to lean against.
TJ takes a seat at the edge of my bed, dropping his backpack at his side. “You sure you’re okay? We can reschedule when you feel better.”
I shift around to try and alleviate my pain. “I’m fine. Let’s do this.”
He doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t insist, laying his books out on my bed.
“I think that’s enough for today,” TJ announces less than an hour into our lesson.
I rub my eyes, which are so itchy and painful I’m sure they’re bloodshot. “What? We’re not done.”
TJ pushes off my bed. “You’ve been yawning your head off since we started. When’s the last time you got eight hours of sleep?”
I scoff. “When I was in high school. Come on—” I pat my bed. “—I promised I’d get you ready for midterms.”
“Lacey.” The stern expression on his face tells me he’s made up his mind. “You need to start taking care of yourself.”
“You don’t think I don’t know that? I don’t have a choice. Taking care of myself doesn’t pay the bills, TJ.”
Silence befalls us.
Shit, I didn’t mean to go off on him.
I let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, I… I’m just at the end of my rope.”
I proceed to rise off my bed as well, but the pain in my back immediately worsens, and I can’t stop myself from wincing.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat. I hate how vulnerable this makes me look. I’m usually good at keeping up appearances.
The smile he gives me feels like a warm blanket squeezing my body. “You carry it so fucking well, but it’s still heavy. You’re allowed to say it.”
My throat feels constricted.
“There’s no point in saying it. It’s not going to change anything.”
“I disagree. I think if people knew how much being a single parent is weighing on you, they’d want to help.” His hand comes to rest on my cheek, the affectionate gesture catching me off guard. “Yes, you have to work, but that doesn’t mean the people who love you can’t give you a hand in dealing with your other responsibilities.”
He has a point. Working a lot is only half the problem. The real issue is how little time I have to recover because when I’m not working, I’m running around trying to meal prep for the week, cleaning up Sierra and Oli’s mess, on top of trying to keep up with school.
“You’re right.” I nod, the realization liberating me from the burden crushing my shoulders. “I’m allowed to ask for help.”
“That’s fucking right you are.” He nods, his eyes gleaming with understanding as he removes the hand cupping my face. “Now, lay down.”
Well, that took a turn .
“W-What?”
“I’m going to give you a massage.”
I could argue, but I’m so tired there isn’t a drop of resistance left in my system. I oblige, shifting our math textbooks out of the way before lying flat on my stomach.
Next thing I know, TJ’s straddling me, his legs flanking my body as he sits near the small of my back.
The feel of his hands grazing my skin startles me, eliciting a gasp from my mouth.
“Are my hands cold?” he asks but keeps his fingers there. Ironically enough, warmth spreads through my entire body.
“No, it’s not…” I let out a nervous chuckle. “You just surprised me.”
Truth is, his touch is doing that to me. His hands could be freezing and still be sending jolts of electricity throughout my entire body.
“Yeah, that’s not going to work,” he comments and drives his hands along my spine. His fingertips slide underneath my T-shirt, and he starts to fidget with the fabric. “Can I?”
“Oh, hm, sure.”
He bunches up my shirt above my shoulder blades, moving it out of the way and getting to work. I’m wearing a bralette still, and he asks me if he can undo the back clasp, a request I grant him.
A whimper leaves me when his thumb finds the sore muscles along my spine and he starts working out the knots. I had no idea I was this tense. How do I even function with this much muscle strain?
“It’ll hurt at first, but it’ll help, I promise,” he says to ease my worries.
He goes on to apply more pressure, giving the sore muscles on the top half of my back his undivided attention before moving over to the lower half and repeating the process.
It hurts for the better part of the first five minutes until his precise strokes begin to melt away all the stress and pain my body’s been carrying for months.
“How’s that?” he checks in a moment later, and my mouth refuses to expel the thoughts forming in my head.
“It’s…” I can’t help a moan from slipping out of me when his thumb draws a strong circle near the bottom of my spine. “It feels amazing. Have you done this before?”
“My mom used to come home crying from her back pain. I did whatever I could to help.”
This is incredibly sweet of him, which just goes to show that there’s a side of him I don’t know. Hell, I’m not even sure I know any side of him. He barely talks about his life outside of Duke.
Is his mom still around? I remember him saying his mom went away for work a while back, and I never pushed him for specifics, but I’m starting to wonder if he’s purposefully keeping the details to himself.
His friends don’t seem to know a lot more than I do.
“Is she better now?”
He stops moving.
A breath.
A pause.
I feel his hesitation hovering in the air.
“Yeah, much better.”
That’s all he gives me. Three words. I open my mouth to continue asking him questions, but the relief pouring over me when he kneads a specific section of my lower back blows my resolve to pieces.
“God, you’re so good at this,” I say on a quiet moan. “Don’t stop.”
That only spurs him on, encouraging him to work my knots harder.
“TJ…” I meant to say more, but I’m suddenly unable to form a cohesive sentence.
“Jesus. You need to stop doing that.”
I stiffen up at his comment. “Doing what?”
“Moaning my name like you want me to slide inside you from behind.” He presses into me, and only when his hard cock prods against my ass do I understand the effect I’m having on him.
He continues to undo the knots making my life miserable, seemingly unaffected. Meanwhile, I can barely breathe. My stomach clenches just thinking about his cock entering me in this position.
Seriously? You were saying this friends-with-benefits thing wasn’t a good idea not even an hour ago.
In my defense, my hormones like to defy my common sense every chance they get when it comes to this guy. Neither of us brings it up again. He carries on massaging me until I’m putty in his hands.
A half hour elapses before he’s fastening my bra again, smoothing my shirt down, and getting off me to sit on the edge of the bed. The first thing he does is fish his phone out of his jeans pocket and pull up his text messages. I fight the need to ask him what’s so urgent he had to text someone right this second.
“Everything okay?” I ask, sitting up and wrestling the sleepiness enveloping me. I have no doubt I would have the best nap of my life if I succumbed to it. I don’t know what TJ did to me, but it had to have involved magic.
“Yeah, I’m just asking Vera if she could see you.”
I scoot closer. “Wait, Vera? You mean your aunt?”
He nods. “Yeah. She’s a chiropractor. She has a clinic not too far from here.”
I wish I could go see her. He has no idea how much. But I would never risk having to choose between putting food on the table and my chiropractor appointment.
“Oh. That’s sweet of you, but I can’t afford it.”
He doesn’t look up from his phone. “Shit, she could only see you next month. Would that work? I’ll ask her to tell me if she has any cancelations.”
“TJ, you’re not hearing me. I can’t?—”
“Yes, you can. She’s been needing someone to paint her house for a while. I said I’d help her out if she helps you.”
My jaw drops.
Why would he do that for me?
He slides his phone back into his pocket. “Please don’t give me one of those speeches about how you can’t accept it, because it’s already done. You’re going. End of story.”
I have no idea how to respond to such a kind gesture. My body, however, knows exactly what to say because I scoot closer to him on the bed without realizing it.
Our eyes lock for a moment.
Then I crash my lips to his.
Just like that.
I grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him—a decision my brain obviously didn’t even get a chance to veto. Now, I’m wondering what the hell I was thinking…
Wait.
He’s kissing me back .
TJ doesn’t waste a second reciprocating the hunger in my kiss, parting my teeth with his tongue and claiming my mouth the same way he did last week in that shed.
His tongue slides over mine, causing me to melt into him. My body is flush against his, but we’re both sitting on my bed, and the position doesn’t allow us as much proximity as I would like.
He seems to share my train of thought because he has me pinned down under him in a matter of seconds. How we went from talking about my back pain to me wanting him to break my back, I couldn’t tell you.
His hands grip my hips as if to keep me in place as he sucks my bottom lip between his teeth and tugs hard enough to make me gasp. I feel every inch of him rocking against my core, and there’s a good chance my resolve is leaving me with every bruising kiss he plants on my mouth.
My breath gets trapped in my throat when he abandons my mouth and begins a descent toward my pussy. I’m wearing shorts he could easily take off if he wanted to.
I instinctively grip the duvet on my bed the moment his mouth latches to the inside of my thighs, marking my skin with hot, slow kisses. He’s inches away from my pussy, torturing me by kissing up and down my flesh without restraint.
“TJ, please,” I call, hoping my plea will convince him to put an end to his teasing.
Only it has the opposite effect.
He stops dead, climbing back up my writhing body and pressing a soft, too delicate kiss on the corner of my mouth. “You should rest.”
Then he’s off me and making a beeline for my bedroom door.
“Seriously?” I shout at his back just as he’s grabbing the door handle.
He casts a glance at me over his shoulder. “Aw, don’t pout, baby. I told you there’d be consequences for the shit you pulled last week.”
He did warn me. I guess I never thought that, when it came down to it, he’d have the restraint to stop.
“I hate you,” I fire back.
“No, you don’t.” He swings the door open and says, “I have to run. Got plans with the guys. I’m just going to say goodbye to my sister real quick.”
And I’m supposed to believe this is the same guy who agreed to free labor so that I could see a chiropractor ten minutes ago?
I squeeze my eyes shut and groan in exasperation. Minutes fly by, but I don’t hear the front door close and assume TJ is having a chat with Kelsea.
Until I hear him call me from my sister’s bedroom.
“Lacey! Get over here!”
The distress in his voice immediately worries me. I book it out of my room and find TJ standing in the hall in front of my sister’s opened door.
I speedwalk toward him.
That’s when I see my sister’s empty bedroom.
The girls are nowhere to be found.
And the worst part?
The window is wide open.
“Kelsea, I swear to God, if you don’t pick up your fucking phone in the next five minutes, I’m posting every ugly picture I have of you on social media. And you know I have a lot. Don’t push me,” TJ says through clenched teeth.
It’s been ten minutes since the girls snuck out Sierra’s window like two criminals. Scratch that—it’s been ten minutes since we became aware of them sneaking out, which means they’ve probably been gone much longer.
I screwed that window shut weeks ago, but judging by the looks of things, Sierra was so determined she undid each screw one by one.
Ten minutes of ignored text messages, phone calls, and making all sorts of threats over their voicemail. Nothing’s worked, not that I expected otherwise.
TJ hangs up the phone. “You mark my words, that girl’s not seeing the light of day again until she’s thirty-five.”
“Let me try Sierra again.” I select my sister’s number and bring the phone to my ear.
It doesn’t even ring. Just goes straight to voicemail.
“She’s blocking my calls somehow.” Anxiety sinks its claws into me. “Fuck, what are we going to do?”
The next thing I know, I’ve turned into this anxious wreck, struggling to steady my breathing as I pace around my sister’s bedroom.
I’m such a shitty excuse for a parent. How could I let my guard down? I knew Sierra was a flight risk, but I figured she’d learned her lesson after being grounded for a month.
“Do you have any idea where they could’ve gone?” TJ asks.
“We’ve already tried all their friends. I…” I pant, my thoughts spinning out of control. “Maybe if…”
Air. I need air.
“Lacey?”
TJ’s voice echoes in my head.
“I’m sorry, I-I can’t.” I feel the need to apologize for being such a mess.
Why did I ever think I could take care of my siblings?
I take my palm to my chest to try and calm my erratic heartbeat.
“ Lacey .”
My knees buckle for a second, and I immediately drop onto the edge of Sierra’s bed.
“Hey, look at me.” TJ falls to his knees in front of me, his hands curving around both of my knees as he whispers, “I know you’re scared, but I need you with me right now, okay? I need you to breathe.”
Okay, okay, I can do this. Just breathe. Breathing’s not that hard. I’ve been breathing for twenty years.
I’ve never been one to talk to some sort of higher power. After my dad died, I stopped asking the universe for favors of any kind. Clearly, the universe doesn’t give a damn because if it did, my dad would still be here, but as I pour all of my energy into collecting myself, I decide to push my hatred of the universe aside for a moment.
Universe, help us.
No, you know what? Fuck you. You’re not the one I want to talk to. I clutch my shirt in the center of my chest and squeeze my eyes shut.
Dad, if you’re here, help us.
Help us find them.
“We need to think. There has to be a way we can track them. There has to—” TJ’s interrupted by a loud chime.
We immediately follow the sound to Sierra’s closed laptop, sitting on her desk.
A few seconds pass. Then, another chime cuts through the silence. Neither of us utters a word. We book it to her laptop and throw it open just in time to see a notification on her locked screen.
Gabe
Are you on your way?
This is it.
Whoever this Gabe is, the girls are going to see him.
The notification disappears in just seconds, but her laptop has a password keeping us from reading the rest of their conversation.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I try a bunch of nonsense, from the name of our family dog when we were younger, to the name of her first celebrity crush, but nothing works.
“Can you remember anything that might point us to her password?” TJ asks.
No, I can’t.
I can’t remember shit. That’s one of my biggest problems in life. I often have to write things down and make myself detailed to-do lists.
That’s when it hits me.
I might have the memory of a goldfish about certain things, but it runs in the family.
“What are you doing?” TJ asks when I fling the first drawer of her desk open. It’s full of old makeup, hair ties, charging cables for her phone.
“I know my sister. She forgets everything . I’m just hoping she wrote her password down somewhere.”
My hopes are restored once I open the last and third drawer and find a purple notebook made of synthetic fur.
I fish it out of her desk, and sure enough, every single one of her passwords is written inside.
“Score,” I say as I flip through the pages as fast as I possibly can. I find what I’m looking for a heartbeat later and spell it out for TJ, who’s already seated at her desk.
We click her conversation with this Gabe as soon as we’re in and start reading.
Gabe
You probably shouldn’t tell your sister. She won’t let you go.
Sierra
Yeah, I know. She can be such a bitch sometimes.
Gabe
All she does is control you. You’d be better off without her.
Sierra
Maybe you’re right.
Gabe
I sent you the event for my friend’s party on Facebook. Meet me in the park across the street.
Sierra
Great. I’m so happy we’re finally going to meet.
Gabe
Me too babe. I love you. See you at nine o’clock sharp. Don’t be late.
Sierra
I won’t. I love you, too.
We scroll higher, and it isn’t long before I realize that she and this Gabe guy have been talking for months and months. He’s always asking when he can call her, too.
Gabe
Don’t tell your sister it’s me calling you. She’ll try to get between us.
Sierra
I won’t. I always say it’s Kelsea.
It doesn’t take me long to locate her social media passwords in the notebook.
We comb through her notifications for a few minutes—man, she has a lot— until we find one that says, “Gabriel Carter sent you an invite to an event.”
“Gotcha,” TJ mutters and clicks it.
The event is for some house party not too far from here. But that’s not the part that raises red flags for me.
Gabriel has no profile picture.
“Check his profile. He looks…”
“Like a fake profile, yeah,” TJ finishes.
“It says his account was created last year.”
That’s not suspicious at all.
“Go back to their text messages,” I command, and TJ does just that.
“Now, click here.” I point at the screen, more specifically at the section where you can see all the media that have been sent in the conversation so far.
My heart drops when I see the pictures he’s sent her. They’re pictures of a shirtless, blond, and blue-eyed, Pinterest-looking guy with a backward hat. He looks much older, like freshman in college older.
Clicking the picture takes us back to that point in their conversation.
Gabe
This is me I don’t like Facebook. That’s why I have no pictures.
Sierra
Omg, you’re so cute!
“No fucking way that’s him,” TJ states the obvious.
Everything about his profile screams catfish . His friends list is on private, and he has no pictures, no interactions on his profile whatsoever.
Please tell me this isn’t happening.
Tell me our sisters aren’t on their way to a random park to meet a predator.
“Got the address,” TJ says and rises to his feet. “Let’s go.”
Oh, Sierra, if you survive this…
I’m going to make you wish you hadn’t.