Forbidden Kisses (3:AM Kisses Book 9) (2 page)

“I’m hitting the dance floor, girls.” Daisy knocks her hip hard into mine. “I’ll see you back at the ranch.” The ranch is her little nickname for our dorm. Trust me, there is not one animalistic thing going on at that place. It’s so chaste and sterile you could slurp a glass of water from the carpet if you had to. Neither Daisy nor I have yet to introduce the male species to the inside of our dormitory or our sheets. “Have fun at the lake with
Sexy Rexy
.”

“I’m not spending the weekend at the lake,” I reiterate to Cassidy who’s still busy giving me the playful stink eye. And I’m definitely not spending the weekend with that moron whom I refuse to gift with the sexed-up moniker.

She gives a deep-throated cackle as her hips sway to the music long before she hits the dance floor. “Oh, hon, Sexy Rexy is gonna need somebody to warm his bed tonight. You know that boy is dripping with all kinds of come-hither glances each time you’re around. Go on and get yourself some Whitney Briggs Mustang grade A beef.” She offers up a playful sock to my arm, and now it’s me involuntarily swaying to the music.

“It’s a thousand degrees out tonight. If I warm anybody’s bed, we’re both liable to go up in flames.”

Piper’s eyes expand with glee. “What’s this I hear? You want to go up in flames with Rex Toberman?” She doesn’t mean it. Once Cassidy gets going, she riles up the other two against me just for kicks.

“Would you be quiet?” A trio of beefy boys head in this direction, and I give my good friend a stink eye of my own. “They’re coming. Knock it off.” The last thing on this planet I need is “Sexy Rexy’s” ego to blow his head right off his shoulders. I’d rather stab my eyes out with a fork and
bypass
the butter sauté than have Rex Toberman think I was the least bit interested in him.

The boys appear in an instant with Owen wrapping his arms around Piper from behind and Cade claiming Cassidy by way of a ballerina spin. My stomach does its own revolution, not because I’m sick, because I’m actually a tad bit jealous of all this Valentine’s-worthy affection streaming from the four of them. I admit that it would be pretty nice to have someone wrap their arms around me that way. Lord knows I wouldn’t mind a romantic ballerina spin or two in my lifetime.

Rex steps up. His smile quickly defuses as he looks past my shoulder. I follow his gaze, and my body floods with relief at the sight of Colin Bale and his neon green shirt, the boy who will, unbeknownst to him, spare me of a family weekend with Satan and her spawn—spawn as in singular. Rex’s siblings, Knox and Trixy, are totally nice and undeserving of my quasi-hormonal wrath.

“Colin!” I give him a quick squeeze of a hug. I’ve never actually done more than nod at Colin Bale before, but in an effort to keep Sexy Rexy’s ego in check, I thought I’d indulge in the physicality while I can. Colin is a sandy-haired surfer type with gangly limbs and a permanently lewd grin plastered to his face. He’s friendly enough—a little too friendly if you ask me—but I’m desperate, and desperate family times call for desperate horny surfer measures.

“What’s up? You ready to hit Avalanche?” He tweaks his brows when he says that last part because, well, I may have led him to believe our little getaway involved a nice roomy cabin where just about anything could and will happen. I hate that my father’s poor choices in the dating world have made me out to be a lying, quarterback-despising cock tease.

Rex steps in, positioning his body between my ticket out of our parental nightmare of a weekend and me. “You’re going to Avalanche?” His chest puffs up, and his words come across more like a threat than they do a question. Something about the aggressive male reaction makes my thighs quiver on cue. But for all the thigh quivering I do around Rex, I’ve deduced that it’s simply an affliction of biology. I’m stronger than all of those cheerleaders that bounce onto his mattress. I can see right through his pretentious, I’ve-got-the-biggest-dick-on-campus routine. More like he is the biggest dick on campus. And, if I’m right, his gorilla-like maneuvers are about to display just that.

“Yup.” Colin pulls me in and tucks his chin over his shoulder before letting out an ear-piercing belch. The smell of onions and death blasts over my face, and every last cell in my body demands to die.

Both Daisy’s and Cassidy’s eyes enlarge at the ungodly sight. And, well, I’m too afraid to look in Piper’s direction to see if she’s ready to lop off the arm Colin just draped over my shoulder—his fingers fumbling toward the curve of my bra.

“Skipette and I are headed on up.” He gives me a quick squeeze that lands my nose in his armpit a moment—ripe, yet surprisingly better than the onions covered in death.

Shit! I come up, gasping for air, but it’s too late. His oily scent has infected my nostrils.

“Who the hell’s Skipette?” Piper barks it out so aggressive that I’m suddenly fearing for Colin’s gangly horny self. There’s no doubt in my mind that my three besties wouldn’t subject him to a beatdown. Piper might be the leader of the butt-stomping pack, but there’s no doubt in my mind that Cass and Daisy wouldn’t join in.

“It’s
Scarlett
.” I bat my lashes up at Colin sweetly, and he grimaces.

“Whatever. Let’s get going. I’ve got a cooler full of beer in the back of my truck, and they’re not going to drink themselves.” He jostles me with a strangulating hug.

“Beer, huh?” Rex folds his freakishly buff arms across his chest. Rex is sort of a freakish physical specimen altogether, which explains the parade of girls who have followed him over just hoping that he’ll point his crotch rocket in their direction. It’s sickening watching my fellow females degrade themselves in such a desperate manner. Although it’s pretty evident these cheer-bots are easily swayed by all the pomp and circumstance his quarterback self has to offer. Just because he can pull off a great pass on the field doesn’t guarantee he’s touchdown material in the bedroom. Not that I would know how to gauge anyone in the bedroom. My virginal status affords me exactly zero experience in that promiscuous arena.

“Yeah, we’re headed up for a quickie.” Colin nods to the exit, and I can feel my body willing itself outside those very doors.

A quickie? Does this meathead even understand the decency and decorum involved in such an act?

A pretty blonde struts by and blows Rex a kiss on her way to the dance floor. Never mind. I keep forgetting that at WB there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of decency or decorum regarding coital matters.

“What kind of a quickie?” Rex leans back on his heels, suddenly amused by my date for the evening. His eyes squint in an annoying way as if he’s buried a laugh in each one. Once he sees our taillights headed back toward Hollow Brook, he’ll bow to my genius and wish he had a female version of Colin to get him out of the Toberman-Kent weekend of torment. Who’ll be laughing then?

“You know—a
fucking
quickie.” Colin pulls me in and offers a noogie to the top of my head like I was his kid sister. By the time I manage to right myself, all three of my friends are open-mouthed and aghast at Colin’s latest attempt to woo me.

Piper grunts, “You’re not having a fucking quickie with that girl or any other girl tonight, so you can just take your hands off her before I rip them off at the insertion.”

Crap. I shrink a little as I cinch my purse over my shoulder. I’m thinking a speedy getaway is necessary if I want my plan to succeed.

“We’d better get going!” I sing, doing my best to turn Colin toward the exit, but his feet seem to have drilled themselves into the floorboards.

Rex smirks at him with that ever-so smug I’m-better-than-you smile. “So, you’re up for a long family weekend, huh?”

“Family?” Colin loosens his grip on me, and that’s pretty much when I know it’s over.

“Yup”—Rex lets out an exasperated sigh himself—“our parents are hosting some weekend long family fun-fest. But don’t worry, you’ll love it. Knowing my mother, there will be charades, board games, and group fishing nonstop. If we’re lucky, there’ll be a pancake breakfast tomorrow morning—all-you-can-eat, made of buckwheat and spinach, of course. None of that processed shit. But don’t worry, you won’t be able to taste the spinach in anything she prepares. You like hot cocoa, right?” Colin’s eyes widen a moment as if that one carbohydrate-slash-greens infected feast might have just put him in the running again. “But then, it’s the boys weekend to do the dishes.”

“Dishes?” Colin ticks his head back as if he’s affronted by the idea of manual labor in the kitchen of all places. “No fucking way.” Colin shakes himself loose. “You can’t expect me to keep my hands in hot water. My skin cracks and shit.” He looks at me with a manufactured apologetic look. “I’m afraid I’ll have to back out. I have a thing with these guys tomorrow. I can’t be stuck at the lake all weekend playing charades. If you want a good time when you get back, let me know.” He nods while doing this weird duck face that I refuse to acknowledge might actually be Colin trying to blow me a kiss as he melts into the crowd.

“I can’t believe this.” I cringe toward Daisy. “Colin Bale just
baled
on me.” I drop my face in my hands a moment before Cassidy shakes me out of my Colin-based stupor. Little does she know it’s actually a Sabrina-based stupor because dateless me will actually have to sit through the entire livelong weekend watching my sister and my ex suck face for forty-eight hours. Aren’t there laws about this somewhere on the books? If not, it’s the first law I’ll look to instate upon graduation. Thou shalt not date your sibling’s ex and bring them to the Happy Squirrel to flaunt in their face. Sounds more like a commandment, and, now that I think of it, I like the idea of it being written in stone.

Cassidy hops over and wraps her floral perfumed arms around me. “You get that glum look off your face, missy. You just escaped a Dutch oven fire if you ask me. Now, get over to that lake and sit by the dock of the bay and watch the weekend go by. Sounds like a perfect heaven to me.”

I glance to Rex who still has his arms folded across his chest, his serious gaze set to mine, and my throat tightens as I’m forced to eat crow.

“It won’t be heaven.” Mostly due to my sister, but Rex can share in that paradise-stealing glory. “Besides, I can’t go. My car has been acting up.” It’s my go-to excuse when there’s an entire highway between my prospective destination and me. “Colin was giving me a lift. So there’s that. I’d better let my sister know.” I pull my phone from my purse, and Cassidy slaps it right back out of my grasp.

“Rexy, you’re on your way over to this family ho-down showdown, aren’t you?” Cassidy flashes her wicked little grin at him. “You wouldn’t have room for one more tiny, albeit cuter than a bug’s ear, little girl, would you?” She pushes me in front of him like some virginal offering to the Whitney Briggs Mustang gods.

Rex grunts out his devilish smile, those dark eyes of his glinting with delight at the proverbial fall that just took place moments before. “I’ve got plenty of room for one tiny, albeit cuter than a bug’s ear, little girl.” He looks to Cassidy. “Where is she?”

Cassidy swats him over the stomach while I groan at his ill attempt at humor. Rex has been pretty much nothing but an annoying thorn in my side from the minute our parents introduced us last summer. Both my father and his mother were thrilled that Rex and I were attending the same university. My father even went as far as charging him with keeping an extra eye out on me. My dad has always been a touch too protective of his girls.

“I’m teasing.” Rex roughs up my hair a bit as he walks on by. “Get your bug’s-ear-self together and let’s get out of here.”

“Who says I’m going anywhere with you?” It comes out a bit more temperamental and bitchy than necessary, but I can’t help it. Rex Toberman has a way of reducing me to a cranky temperamental bitch.

“Okay, fine.” He pumps those behemoth shoulders, and, for a second, I envision the two of us alone in bed, his piping hot body pressed over mine, the wingspan of those shoulders as he glides up and down…and every last inch of me shudders. “You can drive yourself in your unreliable car. I’ll see you up there—maybe.” He offers a dry smile.

There’s something about the snide way his lips twitch when he says that last word that makes me a little dizzy. I’m not sure if it’s because he managed to look vexingly comely or the fact getting on the highway makes my body tense in a bundle of nerves. You practically have to take every highway in the universe before you get on the back road that takes you up to the cabin. It’s almost as if he’s calling me out on the fact my car isn’t unreliable, that it’s simply one of many fronts I’ve developed to keep those around me in the dark about the fact I’m terrified I’ll come to a crashing end if I ever dare drive on a hellish speedway.

Rex takes off, and I watch as he grows smaller, as the crowd of girls following him out the exit grows larger and blonder, and all I can think about is how Sabrina will think she’s finally gotten to me with all of that I’m-dating-Duncan bullcrap.

“Wait!” I wail, giving my friends a quick wave as I head for the exit. I step out into the balmy night air, only to find Rex Toberman already barreling down the street in his brand new white souped-up truck, and I do the only think I can think of.

I jump in front of it.

“
S
hit
!” I slam on my brakes so hard the smoke from my tires clouds up the road.

Is that Scarlett? I may not be a fan, but I don’t want to kill her—at least not yet. And for sure not this weekend when I’m due for another round of her father attempting to fill my own father’s shoes for the hundredth time. The guy’s been dating my mother for under a year, and he’s already tried to have one too many serious father-son discussions. I’m not interested—not in him, and for sure not in his psychotic, jumping-in-street-traffic daughter.

The passenger’s door swings open and in flies Scarlett like a wild, redheaded flame.

“You’re a freaking nutcase, you know that?” My heart gives a few hard wallops, and for a second, I’m unsure if it’s her sheer stupidity or the fact she’s kicked up my hormones once again. Scarlett has been known to get my adrenaline going. She’s hot and happens to have a smoking body, but then, my adrenaline seems to kick up to just about any girl who meets that criteria.

She laughs while making an attempt to buckle herself. “You keep up with the sweet talk, and I’ll think you’re trying to hit on me.”

Now it’s me barking out a laugh. I head toward the main road, and she dives over the steering wheel, landing me in the far right lane instead.

“Geez, you could have killed us. You’re lucky there was no one in that lane. Remind me to never get into a car that you’re actually in control of.”

“There wasn’t anyone there. I checked.” Her lips purse into a severe pout. “I don’t have an overnight bag. I need to run up to my dorm and throw a few things together. It’ll only take a minute, unless, of course, you think you can get us back to Hollow Brook before midnight.” Her large green eyes round out with hope. The first thing I noticed about Scarlett last summer were her oversized lawn-green eyes. I’ve never seen anything quite like them.

“Is that why Colin Bale was invited to the cabin? As your midnight express back to Whitney Briggs?” Not a bad idea now that I think about it.

“That among other things.” She wraps her arms around her tiny waist and hugs herself while perfecting that pout in her reflection. Scarlett is a damn gorgeous girl. If my mother weren’t so insistent in pinning down her father, the sexual sickle might have swung in the opposite direction for the two of us. But, then, if her constant disdain and overall lack of enthusiasm when I’m around is any indication, perhaps not. “
Hey
! I’ve got a great idea.” She spins toward me in her seat, her entire person lights up at whatever it is she’s about to propose.

“No,” I flatline as I pull into the parking lot just below Cutler Tower.

“What do you mean
no
? You don’t even know what I was about to say!” Her voice rises a notch, incensed by the idea, and something about her rife indignation makes my boxers twitch with approval.

“I mean no. I’m pretty sure whatever you’re about to say is a lousy idea. You’re full of them tonight, starting with that skater boy you almost dragged up to the lake—who would have initiated an alcohol-fueled attack by the way. He had trouble written all over his neon T-shirt.”

Her lips invert as if holding back a laugh. Her dark hair falls into the stream of light beaming from the parking lot and catches fire. Scarlett’s hair looks black from far away, but the closer you get you realize, that much like her temper, it’s a bona fide flame. You get too close, you’ll get burned. I should know. It seems like Scarlett is forever trying to set me on fire. We’ve gotten along as well as oil and water pretty much since hello.

“My idea is”—she growls—“I was sort of hoping you’d have a very pressing football need and get us off that overgrown rock tonight.” She ducks as if I were about to toss a shoe at her.

So her weekend plans hinge on whether or not I feel like lying to my mother.

“You really are nuts. It takes an hour to get there with no traffic, and an hour to get back. It’s already almost seven. That leaves about an hour to spend time with our parents.” I think on this a moment. “It’s actually pretty brilliant, but still a hard no.”

“Why not?” Scarlett sounds a lot like Trixy when she whines. There’s something almost endearing about her—almost. I’m pretty sure it’s the inkling of my little sister I find endearing, not the redheaded spitfire sitting next to me.

“Because for one, my mother actually expects me to stay the weekend. And I happen to be a—”

“Momma’s boy?” She finishes the thought for me, albeit incorrectly.

“I was thinking responsible, respectful, and dutiful son.” And probably a momma’s boy when you get right down to it, but who doesn’t love their mom? I flick a finger up at the glittering lights of the dormitory tower. “Make it quick, sweetheart.”

“I’m sure you say that to all the girls.” She scoffs as if holding back a laugh. “In fact, I bet you have that carved into your headboard.”

“I don’t have a headboard—too noisy.” An indulgent grin begs to take over, but I won’t let it. “I like all of my noise to come from the girls.”

She lets out an exasperated grunt as she opens the door.

“In fact, that’s the sound right there!”

“Ugh!” Scarlett jumps out, swinging both her hair and hips from side to side, and I try to pry my eyes away, make myself follow any other coed, but my gaze won’t stray. Shit. This girl doesn’t know the half of what she does to me.

* * *

W
e keep
the conversation to a minimum on the rest of the drive. “Lake Avalanche,” I say mostly to myself. “What the hell kind of name is that?”

“A good one,” she snipes back as if I took a personal jab at her family—her father primarily. Him, I actually might like to stab. Bradley Kent, asshole in arms. What a freaking douche. “I suppose your family is too good to have a cabin at Lake Avalanche. Tell me,
Sexy
Rexy”
—she incites the nickname Cassidy sometimes taunts me with, and a dull smile curls the corner of my lips—“where pray tell do the Tobermans blow off steam? Oh, wait, you’re far too nouveau riche to do something as filthy as blow off anything.”

“That’s right, princess.” My blood pressure skyrockets right along with my irritation. “I save all my blowing for the bedroom.” Normally, I wouldn’t dream of talking to a girl this way, but she started this perverse flow of thought by invoking my imaginary headboard.

She grunts again. “Where does your family prefer to summer? I’ll take a wild stab at it.” A self-righteous grin blooms on her face. “The Hamptons? I bet you’re just chomping at the bit to catch the first private jet to Long Island.”

“My private jet happens to be in the shop.” True story, but I’m not entertaining this ridiculous conversation with her. “And we don’t summer in the Hamptons.” Anymore—but she doesn’t need to know that little tidbit either. Before my parents divorced, they were the “it” couple of the east end of that island. I can still smell the salt in the thick, warm air, feel the powder white sand clinging to my legs. That sand followed you home, and there wasn’t a damn thing you were going to do about it. “We have a cabin at Mirror Lake.” Mirror Lake is two hours from Hollow Brook, and that one extra hour of travel is the exact reason I think my mother opted for the Avalanche that’s about to ensue. “We don’t have any silly nickname for our cabin either.” Not sure why I went there with the exception that I find the name of their family abode completely ridiculous in nature. “So, who dreamed up the Happy Squirrel Retreat? Let me guess. It was your best work?”

Scarlett sinks in her seat a bit, her lids growing heavy and weary. “We all did—my brother, sister, and me. It’s stupid, I know.” Her voice grows small. “Ironically, it was such a happy day.” She looks out the window and gives a tiny sniffle.

My heart breaks because in that one moment it feels as if Scarlett and I are on the same level, in the same amount of pain over who our families once were and who we’re morphing into. I do know her mother is remarried, so there’s no chance of her parents reuniting. But my father—he’s not hitched. He’s not even dating. My mother needs to wake the hell up and put her life back together. Yes, what happened sucked. What happened to her after the fact made everything ten times worse. But is it impossible for them to get back together? No. The only thing standing in their way is a tall, gray-haired bag of bones named Bradley Kent. My goal this weekend is to make my mother realize what I’ve known all along. She doesn’t belong with this idiot for God’s sake. She belongs with my dad.

We drive the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

T
he Happy Squirrel Retreat
sits at the edge of Lake Avalanche with an awkward skyscraper-like disposition. It actually looks wider at the top than should ever be safe, and those stilts it’s sitting on aren’t doing any favors in the way of assuring me of my safety. Not to mention, the cabin sits far too close to shore for comfort. I swear on all that is holy that son of a bitch looks like it’s about to topple right in.

An oversized wooden statue of a bear holding a sign with the cabin’s boastful moniker greets us at the bottom of the stairs. The cabin itself is more like a cozy nook than the palace I envisioned.

I know all about extra large ski-side accommodations. Our cabin at Mirror Lake is over nine thousand square feet. Both the Tobermans
and
the Kents would have been much more comfortable there for the weekend rather than trying to squeeze ourselves into this shoebox. We’ll be clawing out one another’s eyes far sooner than the time allotted for this unwanted stay-cation. On second thought, this thumbtack of a retreat might be just what the breakup doctor ordered to end my mother’s extended fling.

“It’s four bedrooms, two baths—one upstairs and down.” Scarlett gives me a quick architectural rundown, sounding more depressed by the meager disposition of the house than boastful. “The kitchen’s a tiny square, but I’m sure we’ll make it work. I’m already losing my appetite, so that’s one less room I’ll be heading into.”

I pick up our bags from the trunk and follow her up, trying not to hypnotize myself by the sweet way her ass sashays back and forth like it’s trying to teach me a lesson. Just the thought of that rock for brains, Colin Bale, coming up here and pawing all over her is enough to make me lose my appetite.

Scarlett gives a meek knock at the door before grabbing the handle and bowing her head a moment as if she needed to summon her resolve just to walk inside.

We head into the brightly lit foyer that spills into the living room, and before we know it, our families offer up a collective cheery hello. The thick scent of something sweet baking hits me, and already it’s wiped the pall off this place. As much as I hate to admit it, this feels cozy, alarmingly homey even.

I give a brief wave at Trixy and Knox playing pool in the corner along with Scarlett’s younger brother, Lawson. The table is too jammed up against the wall to allow a proper game, but it looks as if they’re making the best of it.

Mom gives an exaggerated hello from the dot of a kitchen while pulling a tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. Her hair is pinned back in a bun, and she’s actually donned an apron. A part of me is tempted to take a picture of this 1950s version of my mother and shoot it to Dad, but I’m pretty sure that’s one of the worst things I can do. He wouldn’t be amused. He’d be irritated, jealous even.

I glance over to the sofa where Bradley sits square on his haunches, staring transfixed at the television. His hair is snow white, and he has a pair of silver framed spectacles sliding down his nose. If Scarlett and her siblings get their dark crimson locks from him, the world would never know it.

He offers up a brief, cheery hello of his own, but it looks as if neither Scarlett nor I are getting a running, hugging reception from our respective parents. Instead, her lookalike older sister—swear to God, they could be twins—heads over with some dude in tow. I’ve met Scarlett’s family several times by now, and I’ve yet to see this pasty-faced, somewhat angry looking dude who’s shuffling alongside Sabrina.

“Sissy!” Sabrina holds out her arms with her mock enthusiasm. It’s pretty clear to everyone with a beating heart that Sabrina and Scarlett aren’t exactly the best of friends. You couldn’t cut through the tension with a razor when these two are around. “So, where is he?” She cranes her neck past the two of us. Her act is so convincing I look back myself to see if anyone’s followed us up. “Is he getting your bags? Isn’t he the perfect gentleman.” Her pink manicured hands rub together as if she’s already developing a plan of wicked proportions, which wouldn’t surprise me. Sabrina is a lot like Scarlett’s evil twin with longer, darker hair, stronger red highlights, her eyes a bit larger, her nose a bit hooked. She’s a wicked beauty to Scarlett’s poetic quiet looks. Too bad Scarlett’s temperament doesn’t quite match. Other than that, they could pass as twins easily.