CHAPTER 17
TATE
I don’t know … I’ve never had a dick inside me before …
I thought I was cured of spontaneous boner syndrome once I turned fourteen. Turns out, my dick still has a mind of his own. Only, this time, I’m not in front of the class delivering a presentation on the founding fathers when I pitch a tent. I’m at the bar, standing up to greet Evan, whose gaze doesn’t miss what’s happening down below.
“Do you have a boner?” he demands.
“Say it louder for the people in the back,” I grumble.
Luckily, I revert to a state of non-arousal the moment I’m presented with a distraction. Before Evan arrived, I was sitting alone with far too much time on my hands to ruminate over what happened with Cassie. Since the night of the charity gala, I’ve been playing it off like it’s no big deal. Friends always masturbate in front of windows together. Like, come on, bro. It’s just a cool thing platonic people do. But it’s not working. She’s not dumb and neither am I. A line had definitely been crossed. And every time I hear her breathy voice in my head, whispering those words—I’ve never had a dick inside me before—I get harder than granite.
“Seriously. Is that for me?” Evan sounds amused.
“You wish.” I push the beer I ordered for him across the booth. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
It’s Sunday night and I dragged Evan out for drinks because both Danny and Luke bailed on me after work. Pleading exhaustion after a long day on the water with a group of disastrous, albeit enthusiastic, would-be sailors. Me, I desperately need the diversion, so I pried Evan out of Gen’s bed. At least that’s what I assume he was doing when I called.
Evan raises the pint glass to his lips. “And you’re still not answering the question. Clue me in already. I want to solve the case. The case of the mysterious boner.”
“I have a sex problem,” I confess.
His amusement grows. “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this. Hold that thought.” He waves at one of the waitresses, whose hips sway deliberately as she saunters over to us.
Her name is Nicole, and I’m pretty sure Evan hooked up with her during Genevieve’s year in Charleston when she went radio silent on him. Dude attempted to cure his broken heart by sleeping his way through the Bay, hitting on any cute chick that crossed his path. Fortunately, like me, he’s on good terms with most of his hookups.
“Hi, boys,” Nicole chirps. She eyes me. “You look … flushed.”
Evan snickers. “Could I grab an order of chicken wings? Hottest sauce you’ve got.” He winks at her. “Please and thank you.”
“Coming right up.”
Once she’s gone, Evan takes another swig of his beer. “Okay, what’s the problem?”
“I think maybe I have a virgin fetish I didn’t know about.”
He almost chokes on his beer. “I’m sorry, what?” He coughs a few times.
“You know that chick Cassie who was at your place a couple weeks ago? Her grandmother used to own the Beacon?”
“Yes…” He shakes his head, sighing. “You stupid bastard. You took her virginity?”
“No, no. I mean, she did sort of proposition me. Asked if I was interested in a summer fling. But I said no.”
Evan lifts a brow. “Since when do you turn down propositions like that?”
“Mac talked some sense into me,” I admit. “And when I took a step back to really think about it, I realized it wouldn’t be a smart idea. Cassie didn’t strike me as the type who could keep things strictly physical. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Worried she’ll fall in love with you, huh?”
“Kind of, yeah. Do you remember what happened in high school with Lindsey Gerlach?”
“I’m pretty sure our entire graduating class remembers,” he says dryly. “What did her friends spray-paint on your locker again? Stupid asshole?”
“Selfish prick,” I correct.
“Eh. I’ve been called worse.”
I reach for my glass. “Anyway, I didn’t want Cassie catching feelings. And now we’re becoming good friends, and honestly, I kind of learned my lesson the last time I hooked up with a friend.”
Alana and I haven’t even spoken since she ended it. Granted, it hasn’t made for any awkward group gatherings, but that’s probably because I barely attended any parties this July. I’ve been too busy with work. Still, the idea of screwing up my friendship with Cassie bums me out. I don’t want to lose her. I would miss talking to her.
“But—” I add.
He chuckles. “There’s always a but.”
“The other night, we kind of had a moment…”
“Of course you did. What’d you do? Make out?”
“Nah, it was a phone sex thing.” I omit the details, especially the window element of the scenario. He doesn’t need to know all that. “But yeah … it came up a couple of times that night, the virginity thing, and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“About what? Popping her cherry?”
“Yes,” I groan, then slug back nearly half my beer. It’s so hard to articulate. I mean, I’ve watched porn. I’m sure some of that porn featured virgins, but the actual genre—virgin porn—isn’t my thing. I prefer experienced women. I like women who know their way around a man’s body.
And yet the idea of being the first guy inside of Cassie gets me going something fierce. I wonder if there’s an anthropological reason behind it. Some recessive caveman instinct in us, a primal urge backed by science. Except this urge never existed in me before.
Another possibility occurs to me. Maybe it’s not the fact she’s a virgin that’s making me crave her on such a deep level. Maybe it’s because she’s beautiful and funny and so damn easy to be around.
Maybe I just … like her.
Shit.
“I know it’s not a good idea, though. It’s a lot of pressure. I don’t need that kind of pressure, right?”
“Christ, no. You never want to be a woman’s first. You’re literally going to be someone she remembers for the rest of her life. But what’s your legacy gonna be? Best-case scenario, she’s got you up on a pedestal because you rocked her world. Likely scenario? She’ll be nervous, which’ll make you nervous, and then you’ll fuck it up and ruin the experience for her because you’re both so uncomfortable. Either that, or you come too fast because she’ll be so tight—” He breaks off abruptly. “Speaking of fast.”
Our waitress is back, holding a platter of wings. “Do I even want to know?” Nicole asks politely.
Evan blinks. “Nope.”
I offer an innocent smile. “Nothing to see here.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re up to no good?” Her narrowed eyes shift between us.
“Who, us? We’re choir boys,” Evan says. “You know that.”
“Yeah, sure.” Snorting, she plants his chicken wings in front of him and wanders off.
Evan wastes no time pulling the plate closer and snatching up a sauce-drenched wing.
“So, now that we’ve discovered you have a deflowering kink,” he says between bites. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing,” I say glumly.
“Nothing?” he echoes. “Well, that’s no fun.” He wipes his chin with a napkin, then slides out of the booth. “Be right back. Gotta hit the head.”
He’s only gone a minute before Nicole returns to check on our booth. She eyes Evan’s empty side. “Where’s Hartley? He abandon you?”
“Nah, he’ll be right back.”
“Pity. I’m almost done with my shift.” One eyebrow flicks up. “I would’ve kept you company.”
Well. This is interesting. Nicole and I haven’t interacted much, but I’ve seen her around the Bay, and I can’t deny I’ve always enjoyed the view. Tall. Curvy. Pouty lips and shoulder-length dark hair.
“Guess we need a raincheck,” I say lightly.
“Yeah? How about Friday?”
“You asking me out, Nic?”
“Something like that. I’ve seen you around for years.” She purses those full, red lips. “Maybe it’s time we got to know each other better.”
A faint smile tugs on my lips. Yeah. There’s no mistaking her intentions. She’s not asking me on a date—she’s looking to hook up. And the more I think on it, the more I realize it’s exactly what I need to clear my head. I haven’t gotten laid since I met Cassie. If I don’t find an outlet soon, all that pent-up sexual energy will explode and push me right into Cassie’s bed.
So, why not? Indulging in a no-strings hookup is a surefire way to stop myself from corrupting Cassie and blowing up our friendship. I can’t keep jerking off before seeing her. That’s not a viable long-term solution. Eventually my dick is going to require a lot more than my tired hand.
“I work until seven on Friday,” I tell the smirking brunette. “Why don’t you come by for a drink around eight? I’m staying at the Jackson place. Housesitting for the summer.”
“Really? I pass that house on my dad’s boat all the time. I’ve always wanted to see the inside.”
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a yes.” She licks her lips. “Sounds like fun.”
“Great. See you then.”
Evan returns as Nicole’s sashaying off and doesn’t miss the coy smile she tosses me over her shoulder. “Man, you move fast.” He slides back into the booth. “Nic is good people, though.”
“Yeah, she’s cool.” I steal a chicken wing off his plate. “She’s coming by on Friday.”
“I get it.” He nods. “You need the distraction.”
He does get it. “Yup.”
Despite the plans I made with Nicole, I still have Cassie on the brain when I get home a couple hours later. I park my Jeep in the driveway and enter the house to conduct my usual security check. Everything looks good. Me, though, I’m still on edge. Restless. So after a quick shower, I head downstairs and grab the pack of smokes I stashed in the kitchen, along with a cheap plastic lighter.
I step onto the back deck, where I fish out a cigarette and pop it between my lips. It’s nine thirty, and although the sun set not too long ago, the moon is high and shining bright, casting streaks of silver over the calm water of the bay. I flick my gaze toward Cassie’s house. The patio light is on, but I don’t see anybody out there. I approach the railing that overlooks the dock below and light my smoke. I inhale deeply. Let the nicotine lodge in my lungs until they feel like they’re going to explode, and only then do I exhale, watching the thick cloud of smoke float away and dissipate.
I love this town, I truly do. But sometimes it’s so damn oppressive. Especially when I look out at the water, when my gaze rests on that strip of land that curves at the very edge of the bay. Because I know beyond it is the open ocean, and every cell in my body cries out for me to go to it. I want to be navigating the ocean using the stars. I want to see new places, meet new people, experience things I know I’ll never experience in Avalon Bay. Small towns are familiar. They’re a comforting pair of arms that bring you close and keep you safe.
But those same arms hold you back. Keep you locked in place.
I’m feeling too introspective tonight. I should’ve stayed out with Evan, talked him into another round of beers, a game or two of pool.
I take another drag. Exhale again as I listen to the sounds of the night. Insects humming. Trees rustling. I hear a car drive by. A burst of laughter from the dock several houses down, where it sounds like they’re hosting a small gathering. Then, another car engine, this one from the vicinity of the Tanner house. I hear a door shut. A flash of movement crosses my peripheral vision, and I realize the patio wasn’t empty, after all. There’s a woman on the deck, drinking a glass of wine. It doesn’t appear to be Cassie’s grandmother. Lydia Tanner has dark hair. This woman has red hair, several shades darker than Cassie’s.
I furrow my brow. Is that her mother? I thought Cassie had said her mom wasn’t arriving until mid-August.
The back door creaks open and another figure steps outside. The foliage shields her from view, but I recognize Cassie’s voice.
“Hey, Mom. I just got back from dinner with Joy. Just wanted to say good night.”
Okay, so it is her mother. I wonder when she got in. I’ve been at the yacht club all weekend, so I haven’t paid much attention to the comings and goings next door. That, and I’ve been diligently avoiding Cassie since window sex.
“That’s the outfit you wore to dinner?” her mother inquires.
“Yes. What’s wrong with it?” Cassie’s tone sounds strange to my ears. Forced, as if she’s trying to remain neutral but can’t quite master it. “We went to Joe’s Beach Bar. Dress code is casual there.”
“I thought we talked about the crop tops, Cass.”
I crush my cigarette in the ashtray on the railing. Feels wrong eavesdropping. I don’t mean to, but it’s also hard not to, especially at night when there’re no boats on the water. No shrieking children. No birds or seagulls squawking. Only the soft whine of mosquitoes, the occasional cricket, and the very clear voices of Cassie and her mother, who isn’t letting up.
“It’s really not a flattering look for you, sweetheart.”
My body tenses up. Oh, screw that. Cassie looks good in everything. And as I recall, she was wearing a crop top the first time we kissed. I vividly remember the way it hugged her tits.
And now I also remember what she told me about her mother. The way she described the woman. Highly critical. Self-centered. Zero empathy.
Checks out so far.
“I don’t know … I kind of like them.” Cassie’s flippant now, but the mere fact that she’s defending her fashion choices makes me frown. She doesn’t have to justify herself to anyone.
“I just think it’s something you should leave to girls like Joy, or Peyton. Girls with abs, you know?” Her mom gives an airy laugh, as if they’re sharing some lighthearted joke. “You need to have a very flat, toned stomach to pull off that kind of top.”
My eyebrows soar.
Fuck you. That’s what Cassie ought to be saying. I get it, respect your elders, obey your parents and all that. But come on.
“Eh, abs are overrated.” I have no clue how Cassie is managing to retain her composure. Somehow her voice remains calm and unruffled, when I suspect that inside she’s anything but.
“Sweetie. You know I want you to always look and feel your best. And it’s not only about showing the midriff. With your breast size? You need to choose your wardrobe carefully. I understand at your age you want to look sexy, but on your body type, most sexy outfits tend to have the opposite effect. There’s looking sexy, and then there’s looking like a bimbo.”
Cassie remains silent.
“Large breasts are a curse and a blessing. Trust me, I know.” Her mom laughs again, as if she hasn’t just bullied her daughter to the point of silence. “I think right now you’re seeing the curse aspect of it.”
Finally, Cassie lets out an awkward laugh. “Well, I mean, it’s not like I can get rid of these things, so…”
“I did it. There’s no reason you can’t either. We can talk to Dr. Bowers about doing a reduction.”
“I don’t want a reduction. I’ve already told you this.”
“You said you were scared of the anesthesia, but—”
“It’s not only that. I just don’t want it.”
“Cass—”
“I’m not doing a reduction,” Cassie repeats. For the first time since she stepped outside, her tone brooks no argument.
There’s a beat. Then her mother, totally unbothered, says, “You look tired. We probably shouldn’t be talking about this when you’re clearly exhausted. Let’s discuss it another time. Why don’t you head up to bed?”
“You’re right. I am exhausted. Bed sounds like a wonderful idea.”
“Good night, sweetheart. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
After that conversation, it’s hard to believe there’s love on either end. Particularly Cassie’s mother. What kind of parent talks like that to their kid? Hypercritical, Cassie said? Try downright cruel.
I’m startled by the torrent of anger that floods my gut. I remain on the deck and pull out another smoke, my fingers shaking when I flick the lighter. I lean into the flame, sucking hard on the cigarette. That dark, angry sensation inside me only heightens, forming a knot of tension between my shoulder blades.
A light turns on. A yellow glow radiating from the second floor of the Tanner house. I tip my head toward it. I don’t have a direct view of Cassie’s window from down here, but I catch a blur of motion and then a fleeting glimpse of her face. She’s scrubbing two fists over her eyes.
Goddamn it. She’s crying.
My jaw tightens to the point of pain. I force myself to relax it and take another deep drag.
No.
Fuck that.
I snuff out my cigarette and head next door.