Page 14 of Wicked Love

“Okay, I wouldn’t wish to be you right now.”

I facepalmed. “What am I supposed to do? Pretend we never met and that she never orgasmed around my fingers. Shit. From now on, every time I look at her, that’s all I’m gonna remember.”

“Lucky for you, you two don’t live under the same roof. And it’s not like your parents are married. Your dad might get tired of Clarissa and kick her out.”

“Easier said than done. He moved them across the country. He’s happy, man. I swear. I haven’t noticed those glints in his eyes in a long time.” I checked the time. “We should meet soon. I miss you, man. It’s been too long since we last saw each other. And you have to tell me more about what’s going on with Abby. Wow, I still can’t believe you found her after all this time.”

“Actually, my dad found her, but destiny is playing us. To hear what I have to say, we’ll need a lot of booze,” Andy said. “I’m telling you, it’s big. I need to come around to the fact first. Then I’ll share everything.”

“Good luck. I’m here whenever you need me. Gotta go. We have a family dinner.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish.”

“It sucks being you. Let me know how it went.”

I scoffed. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll spend the evening with a girl who’s forbidden and in high school. One I fucked senseless for hours. I can’t wait for the next three days of my life.”

4

GRACE

Joe drove one of his father’s cars to dinner while I was forced to sit in the backseat of Philip’s SUV, listening to my mother talk about insipid topics no sane person would ever care about. During the entire ride, Philip kept her hand in his, bringing it to his mouth and kissing her knuckles.

My mother looked at him with stars in her eyes, and I wondered if she really liked the guy or if she was pretending, the same way she’d been doing with all her previous boyfriends. There were a lot of them. A lot. A plastic surgeon—hello, fake boobs and nose job—a hotel owner, two dentists, and a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company amongst a dozen others.

Philip murmured something and kissed the side of her head. My mother shone beside him, and I hoped, for everyone’s sake, she wasn’t leading him on. So far, Philip had been nice to me. He always took my side when my mother chastised me for the most trivial reasons. And it would kinda suck if we had to leave. In many ways, I loved having a father figure around, even though I still had to make friends in this town.

Most times, I was all alone in the castle. All my real friends lived far away—or rather, a few states away. And my boyfriend broke up with me last summer when he learned I was moving to Pennsylvania. Dick.

Redmond Academy, that new private school Philip sent me to, let’s just say I didn’t fit in. Most students were gifted in something academic. Arts. Music. Technologies. Sciences. And they all came from money. I had no gift. Unless you considered transforming vintage clothes into fashion trends and cutting hair, I was fairly basic compared to my peers. Oh, and I was a champion at getting under my mother’s skin. That was one subject I was really skilled at.

All of this explained why I couldn’t wait to move out, be in college, and start over. Far from everything I’d always known. Blank slate.

Perfect for a rebel like me.

“Did Joe and you find time to get acquainted earlier?” Philip asked, meeting my eyes through the rearview mirror.

I pinched my lips together to avoid spilling the truth that was dancing on the tip of my tongue. “Yep. All good.”

“Awesome. I had a feeling you two would hit it off.”

“Getting along just fine.” If only he knew his son’s hand had been inside my panties mere hours ago when I begged him to fuck me, he would have a heart attack.

For the rest of the drive, I blocked my mother’s and Philip’s voices out, my attention solely on the scenery passing through the window.

Joe waited for us inside the restaurant, flirting with the hostess, a girl with mile-long legs, a tiny but perky chest, and a symmetric face with big doe eyes and pouty lips. Everything my mom wished I looked like. And everything I wasn’t. Great.

“See,” Mom said, nudging my side. “That girl is putting time into her appearance. And it works…look. Joe is probably about to ask for her number.” She exhaled. “If only you could put some effort and shed a few pounds, you’d be less miserable. Popular and beautiful girls are never alone.” She turned and locked arms with Philip, who was oblivious to the comments my mother threw my way under her breath any chance she got.

In the wide mirror behind the bench serving as the waiting area, I gave myself a slow once-over. Sure, my hips were wider than the hostess’s, and my arms and legs were not as skinny as hers, but I loved my appearance. My full breasts, my high cheekbones, and natural, thick lashes. And the royal blue dress I was wearing—the band T-shirt I’d transformed didn’t make the cut—landed mid-thighs and accentuated my cleavage and my waist. I smiled at my reflection. My mom could say anything she wanted; I was trying really hard to not let her words play with my insecurities. Most days it was difficult, and I inspected each inch of my body in the mirror when I dressed up in the morning. I was there when she pinched my thighs in kindergarten and said I was destined to have cellulite growing up. What a thing to say to a kid. I never wanted to end up like her. I had seen her throwing up on purpose when I was just a kid because she thought the dinner she ate would live in her ass forever. My mother had fashion fads and body shaming in her mind. She not only did that to me, but she also did it to herself. I had seen dozens of different diets she tried over the years, sometimes ending up with hair loss or rotten teeth, all in the name of a perfect body. Or what she considered perfection.

She never found joy or peace, despite the torture she put her body and mind through. I refused to be a victim of her sickness. No normal human being should live like she did for the sake of it. She had probably eaten nothing all day in anticipation of tonight. And would pile up two or three hours daily in the gym all week to make up for this dinner.

A gentle touch on the small of my back snapped me out of my taking a trip down memory lane. When I cocked my head, Joe stood next to me, almost too close for comfort. “Are you ready? They’re waiting for us. Your mom called your name twice.”

I stared at him, trying to process his words, escaping the thoughts that had overtaken my brain.