Chapter 12 #2
“And,” I add, cutting into her spiraling with a pointed look, “if there’s anything I’m not cool with, I’ll tell you.
” I don’t expect she’ll put any non-starters on her list—not that I have many.
“But what are we talkin’ here, like ballpark style?
Like, using toys and shit? Or are we gonna need to sacrifice an animal on a full moon? ”
“Wha-a?” she splutters. “The first one. What kind of weird—”
“Hey,” I deadpan, holding up my hands, “don’t knock it ’til ya try it.” When her eyes bug out, I bark out a laugh.
“Miles! Oh my God!” She stares at me, clearly both shocked and amused. “I can’t believe you—”
I cut her off with a hard kiss, her indignation slowly surrendering with each stroke of my tongue. And, holy shit, she tastes like I could do this all night.
“Mmm,” I hum against her lips, breaking away before going right back for more. “You sure you don’t wanna start right now?”
Her laughter warms my cheek as she snakes her arms around my neck. “Are you serious? For real?”
“About fucking in an abandoned fire lookout?” My gaze falls to her mouth. “I dunno, sounds kinda hot to me.”
“No!” she says, gently swatting my arm.
“Aw, c’mon. Thought you wanted to try stuff. Plus, you can’t beat this view.” My eyes are on her lips and I’m not even pretending to look outside.
“I meant this thing in general. This sex thing.” I’d bet a million bucks her cheeks are flushed pink, but it’s too dark to tell under this shitty utility light. “You seriously wanna help me explore what I like?”
“Why not?” There are easily a thousand reasons why not, but I couldn’t name one right now if I tried. Not with Caroline in my arms, awkward and flustered.
“Wouldn’t it be crossing a line for you?” she asks. “You said you couldn’t date for real. And I’m not suggesting that, but”—her expression pinches with concern—“wouldn’t it get blurry?”
I shake my head. “This wouldn’t be a relationship.
Think of it more like a… friends-with-benefits kinda deal.
Just until the election, while we’re already pretending to date.
You need to have some amazing sex, and I’d get to have that amazing sex with you.
It’s a win-win, right? And I’d get to be, like, your sex sensei. ”
“My sex sensei?” She looks skeptical. “What, like a dirty Mr. Miyagi?”
“Hell yeah!” I chuckle, then put on an air of calm. “Now, young Grasshopper, where did we land on the ol’ exhibitionism thing?”
“I’m ignoring that.”
Worth a shot.
She cranes her neck to peer out the window once again. “So why did you bring me here, anyway?” When she turns back, she runs the pad of her thumb over my bottom lip, looking like she’s still thinking about kissing me. “Other than to proposition me, obviously.”
I smirk at the dig and nip at her thumb, though my amusement fades—along with any thoughts about getting under that dress of hers—as I think about how to answer.
“Uh, my dad and I used to hike up here when we had something difficult to talk about. I think he found it easier to have awkward conversations when we didn’t have to make direct eye contact, y’know?
We could just stare out at the town instead of having to face each other straight on. ”
There’s a sadness in the way she smiles. “Well, a hike and a heart-to-heart sounds a heck of a lot better than tense silences and lectures.”
I frown. “Yeah, your dad seems…”
“Overbearing?”
I tilt my head, choosing not to finish my sentence. Calling her father a twatwaffle probably wouldn’t go over well.
“I guess now we know why I’m in therapy, huh?
” she deadpans, then turns more serious.
“My mom and I are closer. She gets a bit intimidated by Dad, though. I think she tries to keep the peace a lot…” Caroline trails off, then seems to snap out of it, forcing a change of subject. “Are you close with your parents?”
I hesitate a beat, then pull away. It still hurts, even though more than a decade has passed since the crash that took their lives. But I know I need to tell her. “I was.”
“Not anymore?” she asks. “What happened?”
I hate this part, so I bite the bullet and blurt it out. “They died. I was seventeen.”
My words hit her square in the chest, and her features crumple. “Miles…”
“It’s okay.” I look at my feet. “You don’t have to—”
She crushes me in a hug, cutting me off.
Slowly, I wrap my arms around her shoulders and rest my chin on top of her head, grateful she isn’t asking for details. I try to fight off the wince as the familiar script floats to the surface unbidden.
It was my fault. They’d still be here if it wasn’t for me.
But I keep my mouth shut, swallowing past the lump in my throat. Caroline doesn’t need to hear about my trauma—doesn’t need to know how I tried to drown the pain in liquor, never managing to numb myself enough not to feel it.
What’s within your control right now? That’s what Lydia always says.
Inhaling the sweet vanilla scent of Caroline’s hair, I stare out at the town lights, determined to focus on the present, not the past. There’s good right here in front of me—right here in my arms.
“I’m so sorry.” Her quiet voice drifts up from my chest.
“It’s… yeah. Thanks.” When I realize there’s another awkward conversation we need to have, I step back, squeezing her chilled hands. “There’s, uh, there’s something else I need to tell you. If we’re gonna do, uh, naked activities.”
“What?” Caution etches her features.
I clench my jaw. It’s a risk to tell her, but I can’t keep this secret any longer. Not if we’re gonna make this physical too. She needs to be able to trust me.
Honesty. Just tell her.
“Shit. Okay. Your dad told me not to say anything, but—”
“You talked to my dad?” Caroline stiffens. “When? At the fundraiser?”
“Yeah.” My stomach is already halfway to bottoming out. I exhale slowly, trying to steady myself. “Look, I told you in the car that night you could trust me, and I meant it. I wanna be completely honest with you.”
“Please spit it out.” She searches my eyes. “Please. Just tell me what he said. Whatever it is, I—”
“He threatened me, Caroline.”
“He what?”
“Well, he threatened my job, technically. Which is basically the same thing.”
“Oh my God. Why?”
“To make sure I stuck around. Played the doting boyfriend. Behaved myself.”
“Is that why you agreed to this?” Hurt flashes across her face. “I thought you were helping me. I thought you wanted to help me.”
“I did and I do,” I rush to clarify. “Even if he hadn’t said anything before you’d asked me, I still would’ve said yes.”
“I don’t get it. He threatened you into doing something you would’ve done anyway?”
“Uh, there’s more.” When her brows lift, I add, “A condition, I guess. He wants me gone after Election Day. I think his exact words were out of her life.” I grimace at the memory—and how it feels to watch those words land.
The resigned regret in her eyes says it all; she doesn’t need to ask why. She digs through her purse for her phone. “This is way too far.”
“Stop.” I cover her shaking fingers with my own, stilling her hand, and her gaze snaps to mine. “Don’t. You can’t tell him. I can’t risk my job.”
“But he can’t do this, Miles!” Her voice rises in pitch.
“I know.” I rub her arms. “But he did.”
Somehow, I convince her to breathe and let me explain.
She looks numb listening to it all—numb and yet not surprised.
My heart breaks a little for her; God knows how long this selfish prick has been meddling in her life.
Someone who should have loved her unconditionally kept using her—manipulating her for his own benefit.
Hell, she’d agreed to spend time with her repulsive ex just to avoid the possibility that her personal life could cost her dad votes.
Based on, what, some bullshit idea about what women should or shouldn’t do with their own bodies?
It dawns on me why she wants to break free and try new things—and why she got so emotional outside the restaurant earlier about that whole making-other-people-happy thing; I’d hit the nail on the head.
And now she’s quiet. Too quiet.
“Say something. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
She exhales hard. “I… Look, I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you why I’d even want to help my dad—especially after he’s done this.”
“Hey, that’s not for me to judge. Families are… messy sometimes.”
“It’s just complicated.” She swallows. “He’s my family. My blood.”
“I know.” Which is why it was such a dick move.
“There are also… business entanglements.” At my obvious confusion, she adds, “He’s a major annual donor to Found Family.”
I nod slowly, remembering Caroline telling me about how her dad had supported the charity in its early days.
“He’s dropped a casual threat more than once about pulling his donations if I”—she looks up at the ceiling—“step out of line.”
I scowl and shake my head.
What a dirtbag.
“He nearly went through with it, too, when I told him I was quitting to move in with my grandpa here.” She cuts her gaze out the window. “I had to beg him not to and promise to keep supporting him at public events.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry he’s been like that.”
She turns back to me. “Maybe he won’t win the election? Maybe—”
“He’ll still be a senator,” I say quietly. Whether or not Pete Brennan gets elected governor, he’s got power, contacts, connections. Enough to fuck with my job no matter what happens.
“What are we gonna do?”
“Well, I think you’re stuck with me for the next few weeks.”
“What?” She looks dazed. “You can’t be serious about still going along with this. Letting him get his way.”
I shrug, knowing I’ve had more time to mull this over than she has. “Can’t risk my job, though. If I don’t have an income, everything else unravels. My rent, my meds, my therapist, my gym membership… Everything that keeps me sober.”
“But—”
“And it sounds like you can’t risk the charity donation stuff either.”
Her shoulders drop. “Yeah. So, we what? Placate him and keep this up for weeks?”
“Okay, the placating him part obviously sucks, but would hanging out together be so bad?” There’s no question we have chemistry.
“I guess not?” She bites her lip, thinking for a moment. “You’d keep your job, and I’d appease my meddling father.” Her brows pinch together. “Is that a win for me? Why doesn’t it feel like one?”
“You’d also be protecting Found Family. That would be a win. It’s important to you, right?”
“It is.” She nods. “And to Adrian. And to all the kids.”
“See?” I tug on her dress and pull her into another hug, pressing my lips into her hair. “Plus, I can still help you out with your sexploration list. I mean, I heard girls with asshole dads deserve, like, extra orgasms and shit. So.”
She laughs into my shoulder, though she sounds tired.
“C’mon, I’ll drive you back to your car. You can work on your fuck-it list in the truck on the way into town.”
She balks, pulling back to stare up at me. “My what?”
“Y’know, like a bucket list—but for sex.”
“Okay.” That awkward smile is back as I coax her toward the stairs. “But if you say butt stuff again—”
I hold up a hand in solemn promise. “I swear I won’t say—”
Her eyes widen as she clamps a palm over my mouth. “Don’t!”
When I stay quiet, she risks slowly peeling her fingers away.
Then, because my maturity level apparently never progressed past age thirteen, I whisper, “Butt stuff.”