Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
Annie
“Get those fuckin’ shorts off,” Nico grunts as he pulls onto a dirt patch in the middle of some trees in the middle of nowhere. I do as I’m told seconds before he puts the car in park and hauls me over the center console to straddle him.
It’s just too easy to distract him from things that are hard. Just make him hard.
I find and meet his mouth immediately, groaning when our teeth collide when his tongue licks in and searches the inside of my mouth to meet mine.
We fly back as Nico pulls the lever under his seat, moving us as far back as it goes, tearing his mouth away only to rip off my hoodie.
He’s hard—so hard already, and I’m already panting for it, grinding down and feeling the heat of him through his shorts and my panties while his hands squeeze my ass in delightful points of pain.
“I need it,” I exhale the second we come up for air. “Faster. Please, please—”
He shoves me back against the steering wheel, balancing me on his knees while he manages to get his shorts and boxers down.
Then, “Nico?” echoes through the car speakers.
We freeze.
“Hello?” Tom’s stupid fucking voice reverberates against all the windows.
Fuck. Fuck. I reach behind me blindly to start pressing random buttons on the steering wheel to hang up the call, when Nico traps both my hands behind my back.
He grins at me, pupils dilated and sparkling with evil delight. “Hey, man,” Nico answers.
Oh, hell no. I try to rip my hands out of his grasp, but his fingers hold tighter.
“Hey! Just wanted to see how your trip was going. You driving now?”
Nico reaches over himself with his free hand. He pulls his seatbelt out as far as it will go until it locks with a snap. He brings it behind my back.
Be good, he mouths, and I halt all movement.
“Nah, not driving right now,” he says.
I feel him wrap the belt around my wrists, fidgeting with it, his eyes locked on mine in question.
I nod.
When he lets go, all the slack gets pulled back with a series of clickclickclicks, and I am trapped. My wrists are entirely immobilized.
“Ah. Good. Where are you right now?”
Nico tugs up my shirt, baring my tits. “Not sure,” he says. “Bumblefuck, Florida, I think.” He licks at a nipple with the flat of his tongue, jiggling and bouncing it before pulling it into the heat of his mouth.
I try to be good, but a whimper leaves my throat.
He pinches the other one in punishment.
I try harder to swallow it down this time, and I’m rewarded. He draws me over him with two large hands at my ass.
“How’s traveling with the spawn of Satan for a week been?”
I frown but keep my mouth shut.
“I dunno, man,” Nico begins with a pleased smile, his hand drifting down between us to pull my underwear to the side, sliding his fingers back and forth and across my slit, spreading my wetness all over me before slathering some on himself. He draws me down.
“I think she’s being—” I feel the thick head of him pushing against my entrance,
“—really,” he pulls me down onto his cock, sheathing himself with my pussy slowly, so fucking slowly, watching my face the entire time,
“—really,” there’s still a burn, a stretch he’s learned I love, and he forces past until he’s seated to the hilt,
“—good.”
He must read something on my face because he reaches behind me and jabs at a button on the steering wheel a half second before I come. Very, very loudly.
I get a sharp spank on the side of my ass, and that combined with the cut of the seatbelt into my wrists only adds hot, tingling fire to the warmth of the orgasm spreading through my core.
“Fuck,” I sob. “Yes, it’s so good. I’m so sorry, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.”
“It’s okay, Annie,” his soothing words a sharp contrast to the way he now manhandles me back and forth, ogling my bouncing tits. “It’s okay. This dick is just too nice. You tried your best, honey,” he murmurs.
“I did,” I breathe, relishing in the wet sounds filling the space of the car, the overwhelming feeling of full and stretched and used, “I tried.”
“Lean back,” he orders suddenly. “Use the seatbelt as leverage and grind it. Roll that tight little body—yes,” he hisses, when I do. “Make it all better for me, Annie. Good girl—just like that.”
He watches where I move on him, where he’s filling me, for the span of several minutes, all before shoving his thumb in my mouth and getting it wet. He brings it down to my clit and starts rubbing circles in tandem with my movements.
“Yeah, girl. Give it to me. Make me come. Fuck me up, Annie,” he groans into my ear, angling his hips just right and using my body with both his big hands clenched tight on my ass. “Chase it—yes—fuck yes, I feel it. You’re gonna make me come, fu—”
I lose all bodily control on the second one, leaning down and latching onto his shoulder with my teeth, just for something to hold on to, legs twitching like mad, mindless writhing, cold then hot, while he shouts with his own release, pulsing endlessly inside me.
Nico wraps me in his arms while I pant against his neck and consider incorporating some cardiovascular exercise into my weekly routine. I feel a hand leave my back, and then:
“Hey. Sorry, man,” Nico says. “Must have gotten disconnected. Service is spotty here.”
I sink my teeth into his neck. He shakes with silent laughter.
“No worries. Anyway, you were saying? How’s the week with the crazy twin?”
“I was actually saying it’s been really good,” Nico replies, voice calm but firm. He turns to me, his hand cupping my chin with surprising gentleness, and tilts my face to his. “Amazing, actually,” he says, eyes locked on mine. “She’s fucking incredible.”
“Wait a second,” Tom says. “Have you guys fucked this week?”
I freeze.
And furiously shake my head.
“We—” Nico begins.
“If you did, I don’t hold it against you, bro. And I wouldn’t be surprised you fucked her. It’s hot as hell to stick your dick in crazy once in a while,” Tom drawls.
Nico’s still inside me. Currently twitching inside ‘crazy.’
The shame hits me like a cold slap of reality, of real life. I move to climb off, humiliated, nauseated, furious at myself. Because I’d forgotten, in this car, on this trip. Of course. I’m the experiment. The story. The one you brag about, not the “for the rest of our lives” one.
But Nico tightens his grip, doesn’t let me go. His voice, when it comes, is low and sharp.
“Careful, Tom.”
The words hit like a warning shot.
“We’re all fuckin’ crazy, man. Every last one of us. And turns out, Annie is my brand of crazy. She’s the fuckin’ brilliant kind of crazy. And what you just said? That is not a joke. That is not funny. That’s you showing your whole ass.”
Tom starts to retort, but Nico cuts him off, eyes never leaving mine.
“You meant something else. So I’m gonna say this once—don’t ever talk about her like that again.”
He says it to me.
He says it for me.
And he smashes the button on the steering wheel.
“Hey,” he says, brown eyes full of concern.
I want to believe him. I do. But even now, even with his hands gentle and his voice fierce, my stomach twists into knots.
I’m the fun. The joke. The problem. The one-night story that doesn’t fit anywhere in the morning.
People like me don’t get this kind of defense.
Don’t get people who say she’s mine like it’s a promise and not a mistake.
And even if Nico thinks he means it, he doesn’t know the full inventory of my chaos. The way I sabotage things, break them.
Maybe he will. Maybe it’s only a matter of time.
But then—
He’s still looking at me like he sees all of that. And he’s not blinking.
“I meant it,” he says again, thumb brushing under my jaw. “All of it. In real life, in real time, outside of this damn car and this road trip.”
My throat is so tight I can barely swallow. “Why?”
Nico gives the softest huff of breath. It’s not a laugh exactly—it’s more like a knowing sound. His forehead presses against mine.
“I see all of it,” he murmurs. “All of you. And I’m dying, wishing, hoping, praying—that I’m gonna be the lucky motherfucker who gets all of it for himself.”
My eyes sting.
And for a split second—just one—I believe him.
Before my phone starts ringing on my seat.
And it’s my sister.
“Annie. What’s happening?” she asks the second I pick up.
I blow out a breath, pace way away from the car. Try really hard to keep my shit together and not burst into tears.
Because of course she’s calling me about this.
The day before her wedding weekend, and I’ve become A Problem Again.
She should be finalizing flower arrangements or getting her nails done, not checking to see if her maid of honor is fucking something up.
And I am. I did. God, what the hell is wrong with me?
“May,” I begin slowly. “I’m really, really sorry—”
“What for?!”
I don’t know—everything?! For being me. For trying to have some fun, find some equilibrium and messing it up, anyway? I flounder for the right words. There aren’t any, so I go with the truth.
“For fucking Nico,” I blurt, ripping it out of my throat like it’ll hurt less that way. “But it’s not—May, it’s not just that, I swear. It’s not just fucking around. I—.” Too much. “I’m not being reckless for fun this time. It’s not a game.”
I’m rambling now, desperate to make her hear it, believe it. “I swear to you, on everything, on my life, I would never let this affect your wedding. I will disappear into the wallpaper if I have to, I will make myself invisible, I will not cause drama, I—”
“Annie—” she interrupts.
“I’m sorry, May—”
“Annie, stop.”
I stop pacing, scrub a hand down my face, and brace myself. Here it comes—I’ve upset her, I messed it all up again, I—
“I wasn’t calling to yell at you,” May says. Her voice softens, threading in through the cracks of my shame, like she’s reaching through the phone and touching the side of my face. “I was calling to make sure you were okay.”
I blink. “What?”
“Annie,” it comes out as a sigh. “Tom just told me you had sex with Nico, and that you hate him. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
I short-circuit.
“I’m so, so sorry. I really had no idea you hated him when I asked you to travel with him. I thought you had a crush on him in high school. I really thought I was helping—”
“You were,” I cut in. “You didn’t do anything wrong—”
“Let me finish,” she says firmly.
I clamp my mouth shut.
“That’s a huge lift to ask of you, Annie, what the heck? To sit in a car for seven days with someone who hurt you? And I’m freaking out right that you’re dealing with it in an unhealthy way because you didn’t have a choice, and that is entirely my fault.”
Her voice breaks on the word “fault,” and I feel it crack right down my chest. Tears spring to my eyes, fast and hot and completely unwelcome.
“Annie,” she says, and this time it’s my name wrapped in so much love it nearly levels me. “I almost feel like you did this because you didn’t want me to be upset. That’s not right. Now, I repeat my question. Are you okay, or do you want me to get you a train ticket from wherever you are to Miami?”
I glance at Nico over in the car, through the windshield. He’s sitting in the passenger seat, fiddling with his phone. He doesn’t even look over, but I know he’s aware of me, attuned to me in a way that makes everything… too much.
“I’m… okay.”
“Annie,” May warns.
I drag in a shaky breath. “Plum.” I swallow. “I didn’t mean to fuck this up. I swear. I didn’t come here planning to—” To what?! Fall in love with my worst enemy?!
“You didn’t fuck anything up,” she says quickly. “Fuck what up? My wedding?”
I glance over again. Now Nico’s looking at me—really looking. His eyes meet mine through the windshield, and they’re soft and unwavering and devastatingly kind. His brow creases, like he knows I’m in a moment. Or, like he’s just waiting for me to come back to him.
I swallow and decide to go for a subject change. “Your wedding is going to be perfect. I’m going to make sure of it.”
“Annie,” she enunciates. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Am I?
“I’m fine,” I say with force. “Don’t worry about anything other than yourself and your wedding.”
“You’re not fine.” She sighs. “But I’ll see you tomorrow, and we are having a long chat. Got it?”
“Got it. I am at your command, dear bride.”
I can hear her rolling her eyes over the phone. “I love you.”
“Love you.”
Am I okay?
When I get back to the car, I don’t say anything. I just open Nico’s door, climb into his lap, and curl myself up, knees to chest. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t question—just wraps his arms around me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Sitting there for half a second, after six days in this car, I come to a realization.
I’m not afraid here. Not of him, and not of myself.
His chest rises steadily under my cheek. I press my ear to it and try to match his rhythm, absorb this feeling, the feeling of Nico, a cool flow of water down an eternally parched throat.
I could stay like this. I could stay right here. I could be this version of myself—the one who doesn't always break the things she touches, who can finally appreciate her younger self for giving her so many wild, joyful memories… and the grace to walk through the world more gently now.
I’m not just okay.
I’m anchored.
I’m safe.
We sit there like that for several moments, my ear against the heart beating solidly under his ribs, my head tucked under his chin.
“I love my sister,” I tell the car.
He nods, arms tightening just slightly.
“I hate Tom.”
He snorts.
“I hate you,” I whisper.
Nico turns my chin, tilts my face up to meet his. He presses a kiss, soft and gentle and knowing, against my lips. “Lie.”