Dirty Sex (10 page)

asshole. “You want me to hit you back?” I asked all innocent, as if I had

cash to throw down for booze like that.

“No.” More jaw clenching. “Just ask next time.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem. I forgot to even tell these guys.” I waved

toward the twins then I grinned. “Okay, see you later.”

We didn’t start breathing again until we were in Ryan’s car with

the doors closed.

“My life flashed before my eyes for a second there,” I declared

melodramatically.

“Your life flashed before my eyes too.” Ryan started the car and

backed out of the driveway. “I don’t even know how that bottle got

opened. It wasn’t us.”

Reese met my eyes in the side mirror.

“It was me,” I said from the backseat.

“What?” Ryan looked a little pissed.

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Dirty Sex

“No, it was me.” Reese gave me a look in the mirror that said shut

the hell up. “And I’m not talking to you.” She glared to make sure I

knew she was still pissed. “But if I were talking to you, I would kiss

you for taking the heat.”

“First of all, I opened the goddamn bottle, so don’t start,” I told

her. Ryan began studying the road to hide his confusion. “And second

of all, you seem to be talking to me, so I would like my kiss now. Oh,

and please take off your shirt beforehand,” I said like I was ordering a

beer, not a woman.

Reese turned to Ryan. “That’s why I’m never talking to her again.

She’s a fucking pig.”

“Could you guys at least try to get along?” He was on the verge

of begging.

“Ryan, could you please tell your sister that I’m sorry?”

“Ryan, could you please tell your friend that sorry won’t cut it this

time? She’s disgusting and womanizing and I don’t appreciate being

treated like a whore or a piece of ass.”

Ryan looked ready to kill himself.

“Ryan, please tell your sister that if she didn’t act like a whore

or a piece of ass, I wouldn’t treat her like one; however, that shirt she

is wearing implies otherwise.” The top really was skimpy. I’d already

seen far too much of her pristine tits that morning, and if I looked down

her shirt once more I’d have to do something about it. Like touch them.

Wordlessly, Ryan pulled to the side of the road. He turned off the

car and slowly turned in his seat so he could see both of us.

“Neither of you is a whore or a piece of ass or a womanizer or a

pig or any of the other bullshit names you come up with. But you guys

are both acting like complete bitches. I have no idea why you hate each

other or why this summer you are being unbelievably cruel, but I can’t

fucking take it. So stop. Both of you.” With that, he turned away and

gripped the steering wheel hard. His hands twisted on the leather until

his knuckles were white. “Now, can we go enjoy a civil breakfast?”

“Yes,” Reese and I quickly promised. Ryan looked like he might

cry. He nodded curtly and started the car again. He was right about

everything.

❖

• 73 •

AShley BArtlett

“I know what’s gonna happen, but my heart still gets going and

shit. I think it’s the music,” Ryan said.

We were halfway through
Scream
. It wasn’t scary and we’d seen it

a thousand times. He was still squeezing my hand like that would stop

the killing spree unfolding before us.

“Definitely the music,” I agreed and squeezed back. “You want

some food or something?”

“Yeah.” His eyes were still glued to the screen. I paused it and

we wandered into the kitchen. My parents had work in the morning so

they were already asleep, and my sister was at a friend’s place so we

had the house to ourselves. I left him quietly foraging in the fridge so

I could grab some Mountain Dew out of the garage. My dad refused to

keep it in the house. He hated junk food. My mom was a little nicer, but

not much. When I got back, Ryan was carting ice cream bars, frozen

chicken taquitos, pita chips, and hummus into the living room. The

taquitos were for him. Who the hell ate frozen taquitos? That was just

disgusting. Other than that, it was a good mix.

“We’re gonna get sick,” I said. He shrugged.

After ice cream and hummus, we moved on to the second
Scream

movie and pizza. I swear Ryan thought pizza was a food group. Down

on the bottom of that food triangle, the largest section was occupied by

pizza.

Sarah Michelle Gellar was getting slaughtered in a sorority house

when Ryan’s phone vibrated on the table. He ignored it until it vibrated

onto the floor.

“Damn.” He picked it up and read the screen. “It’s Reese.” His

thumbs flew over the screen. “Wants to know where I am.” The phone

was tossed back on the table. Five minutes later, someone knocked on

the door.

“Who the hell is that?” I asked Ryan.

“Probably Reese.” He shrugged. “Dunno why.”

“You get it. I’ll get more soda.” I was halfway through the kitchen

when Ryan screamed my name. Not just called, fucking shouted.

“What?” I sprinted back to the front door.

Reese was standing there clinging to Ryan. Her chin tucked against

his shoulder. When Ryan slowly turned to shut the door behind her, I saw

her face. The whole left side was swollen and discolored. A nice gash

across her cheek oozed blood. It didn’t look like she could open her eye.

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Dirty Sex

“Oh my God,” I whispered. I was going to throw up. After a deep

breath or two, I was able to direct them to the kitchen. The light was

best in there. We sat her down at the table.

“Stop staring. It’s bad enough,” Reese said. She might have been

trying to be funny.

“What happened?” Ryan finally asked.

At first, it didn’t look like she was going to answer. Finally, she

muttered, “Christopher.”

“He fucking hit you!” I shouted.

“Be quiet. Your parents are probably sleeping,” Reese said.

Every muscle in my body tensed. I stood and slammed my fist into

the wall. Then I pretended I hadn’t. Without looking at Reese, I got an

ice pack, wrapped it in a towel, and handed it to her.

“He hit you.” Ryan found his voice finally. “I can’t believe he hit

you. I mean he’s been bad before, but never, never…” He wasn’t even

talking to us. The only connection he seemed to have to the room was

the hand he was clutching Reese’s with.

“Well, believe it,” Reese said. She was the only calm one.

“Why? When? What the fuck?” I struggled to keep from screaming.

I still couldn’t look at her. Instead, I gripped the sink with a hand that

hurt like a bitch and stared into the darkness outside the window. All I

could see was my own reflection.

“I told him I was applying to grad school. He hit me. That’s it.”

“Come on, there’s got to be more,” I said, turning to make eye

contact with her. It hurt to see.

“Really, that’s it. I wish there was more.” Reese shook her head

then immediately stopped as if she might puke. She probably had a

concussion.

“You need to go to the hospital.” I forced myself to sit at the table

next to her, her needs suddenly winning out over mine.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Really, babe, I think you do.” I placed two fingers on the right

side of her face and made her turn toward me. “You might have a

concussion and your eye looks pretty bad.”

Ryan’s head snapped up at my suggestion. “She’s right, Reese.”

“No, guys. I don’t want to.” She was adamant. “I just need to ice

it and sleep.”

• 75 •

AShley BArtlett

“I’m going to get my mom.” I stood and dropped her hand. “I’ll

be right back.”

“Cooper, stop. I said no.” Great. Now she was going to stick up

for herself.

“I’m sorry. Someone needs to look at it.” I looked at Ryan. “Keep

her here.” He nodded.

I took the stairs two at a time trying needlessly to be quiet.

Lightly, I tapped on my parents’ door. After a second, I pushed it open.

Disadvantage of having kids; even when they’re twenty, they’ll walk

in uninvited.

“Mommy,” I whispered as I got closer to her side of the bed.

“What’s going on?” she whispered back.

“Are you okay?” my dad asked. “I thought I heard shouting.”

“You did.” I had no idea why we were still whispering. The entire

household was awake. “Mom, I need you to come downstairs.”

My dad flicked on the light. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Reese. She just showed up and the whole side of her face…

Christopher hit her. Looks like he punched her.” I’d never seen my dad

move so fast. He jumped out of bed and started pulling a pair of sweats

over his boxer shorts. “Dad, no. Stay here. She’s really freaked. Come

down in a couple. I don’t want her overwhelmed.”

“I’m not going down there. I’m driving up to Serrano to give that

piece of shit what’s coming.” Wow, my dad was cooler than I thought.

“Mitch.” My mom could probably kill someone with that voice.

“Reese is probably scared, so stay in bed. I’ll send Vivian up to tell you

what’s going on.”

He did as he was told, but he didn’t look happy about it. My mom

followed me downstairs. In the kitchen, both twins were vacantly

staring at points on the wall. Reese had the ice pack on her face.

“Hi, sweetie,” my mom greeted Reese.

“Hey.” I wanted to kill Christopher for making Reese sound like

that.

“Let me take a look.” Slowly, my mom pulled the ice away. The

towel had blood on it. Ryan and I stared dumbfounded as my mom did

a little inspection. It didn’t take longer than a couple minutes. I’d never

felt so useless.

“Is she going to be okay?” Ryan sounded like an old man, all

raspy.

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Dirty Sex

“Yes, of course. But we do need to go to the hospital.” She pushed

Reese’s hair back and kissed her forehead. “I want to find out if your

head’s okay and I think you might need your cheek stitched up.”

“Okay. Fine,” Reese conceded. It’s good to know when to give up.

“Good.” My mom flashed one of those mom smiles. “I’m going to

get dressed. You two”—she pointed at Ryan and me—“we need another

ice pack and an extra towel.” We nodded, happy to be told what to do.

“My car’s in the driveway,” Reese announced after my mom left

the kitchen. “I should move it.”

“Nope, I got it.” Ryan held out his hand for the keys. She handed

them over somewhat reluctantly. “Be right back.”

I fixed the ice pack my mom requested and set it on the table. “You

want to go get in the car?” I asked.

“Sure. Can I drive it off a cliff?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, well.” Reese braced a hand on the table and pushed up.

“I got you.” I slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close

even though she could walk just fine. “Want me to carry you?” I tried

for a charming smile.

“I’m all right, thanks.” She set her head on my shoulder and let me

walk her out to the garage. “You feel good.”

❖

When we got home from the ER, my dad had already left for

work. He left a note telling us that my bed had clean sheets on it. Reese

resisted the whole way, but we finally got her in my room for some

sleep.

“I can get dressed myself,” she said irritably as I chose some

clothes for her.

“I realize that, peanut butter, but my mom told me to help you and

I’m more afraid of her than you.” That was a lie.

Reese scowled at me and sat on the bed. The swelling had gone

down, but not much. A perfect line of stitches marred her face. The

doctor said it wouldn’t scar too bad. I would have given my life right

then for the mark to disappear.

“I’m not even tired,” Reese said.

• 77 •

AShley BArtlett

“I know. Put your arms up.” I slowly pulled her shirt up over

her head and dropped it behind me on the floor. It was spattered with

blood. It only took me a second to take off her bra and drop that too. I

tried really, really hard not to look at her. I didn’t do so good. She was

smokin’.

“You’re fast at that,” Reese teased me. For a second, I wondered

if she caught me peeking. She didn’t.

“Lots of practice,” I countered. I hadn’t given much thought to my

bra removal technique since I’d started dating girls.

“I thought you didn’t wear bras.” She let me slip a baggy shirt

over her head.

“I don’t.”

“You’re such a pimp.” Her eyes were closed now. I let her fall

back on the bed. Taking off her jeans was even more of a challenge. Not

because they were tight, because I was a perv. “Stop staring,” Reese

whispered.

“Get over yourself.” I made her stand up to put on a pair of my

shorts. “Now, try to get some sleep, okay?” I guided her back to the

bed. Her eyes fluttered closed again and she leaned her forehead on my

stomach. Automatically, I threaded my fingers into her hair at the base

of her neck. I could feel the tension drain out of her in the droop of her

shoulders and the soft sigh that lingered between our bodies.

“Mm hmm.” Her breathing was getting deeper. “Hey. You should

stay. I hate you, but you should stay.” Any second now, she would fall

asleep.

“You want me to get my mom? Or your brother?” There was no