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Clayton. Also known as Clay.

He was excellent at sports, including tennis, golf, track, baseball and soccer. He was smart, acing his tests without much effort from what I could tell. I’d literally never seen him with a book. Even in the hallways at school.

Not surprisingly, he was arrogant as hell.

And wild.

My God he was wild. I’d been watching his antics for years now. He was just two years ahead of me in school so I’d had plenty of time to observe him.

He was the most popular guy in school and I was a nobody. A nobody who lived in his world. Directly, actually, physically in his world. He could have hated me, or looked down on me. But he didn’t do either. Not that he went out of his way to hang out with me or anything.

The funny thing was, he didn’t ignore me the way you might expect. He never made me feel like a hanger on. In fact, when I was little he’d been kind of sweet to me, even playing tennis with me a few times, even though I was hopeless.

But all that changed when he started noticing girls.

And they noticed him.

Did they ever.

With his athletic build, dark hair and impossibly blue eyes, Clay Westfield was a heartbreaker with a capital H. And I was definitely not immune to his charms.

He was the one I dreamed about at night. Even though I hated everything he stood for. Rich, spoiled, lazy. Loud. Entitled.

Nothing had ever been handed to me in my life. I’d worked hard to catch up with the kids at the Academy. I was smart, but I’d moved around so much that I was behind. The other kids knew I was different. Called me names.

Mouse was the one that had stuck.

Even Clay called me that.

But he never made fun of me in front of anyone. I knew I was beneath his notice for the most part. He did like teasing me on the rare occasions we spoke in high school.

He knew of course, that I had a monstrous crush on him. At first I was too young to hide it, and later, well, the cat was out of the bag. He’d chuck me on the chin and flash his pearly whites, turning my insides to mush.

No one could say that Clayton didn’t know his own appeal.

Three years ago he’d headed off to college. Princeton. I barely saw him after that, except during the summers. Even then I’d been too busy working at a local day camp. But this summer, he’d be harder to avoid. Now we had some of the same friends. We were both college kids now and might end up at the same parties.

I wondered what he’d think of the new me?

In addition to filling out, I’d also started wearing a little makeup. I’d even let my honey blond hair grow long, well past my shoulders. The ends had gotten light from the sun, making me look like I had highlights. Not that I would spend that kind of money on a salon treatment.

But for the first time in my life, I kind of looked like I had.

And I’d finally learned to flirt. Boys at college had been after me non-stop. Not that I’d dated anyone seriously yet. But I’d had a few make out sessions. I wasn’t as innocent as I’d been.

I smiled for the first time all day.

Yes, Clay was in for a big surprise.

Chapter Three

Clay

“Hello Claire.”

I leaned forward to press a kiss on my stepmother’s perfectly made up cheek. As usual, she looked perfectly composed, beautifully groomed, and cold as a fish. She smiled at me without warmth.

“Welcome home Clay.”

My father stood beside her looking somewhat glad to see me. Comparatively anyway. His hand slammed down on my shoulder.

“Good to see you son. I heard you performed well this season.”

Not that he would ever actually come see me play, but I was on the soccer team at Princeton. And the tennis team. He had his private secretary keep track of my grades and stats. It was almost touching.

Not.

“Yeah we did alright. Thanks.”

He stood there, staring at me for a moment. It was almost as if he couldn’t quite believe I belonged to him. But I fulfilled the legacy he required and then some. He couldn’t really ask for more.

“Well, let’s get you settled. Dinner’s at seven.”

I waved off the butler and carried my own bags into the main house. It was always a little weird to be home. Welcoming, and yet… not. The entire place had been designed by my mother. The one thing my father had done right since her death was not allowing Claire to redecorate it. Inside, or out.

It was still my mother’s roses that bloomed outside, her wall paper in the library, her layout in the living room. Thankfully, her taste had been impeccable and classic so it still looked current. I was secretly afraid every time I came home that it would all be gone.

Someday, I knew it would.

I dreaded that day. In fact, I’d told the head housekeeper a long time ago to keep some of Mom’s stuff in storage if it every came to that.

When I moved out I planned to take as much of my Mom with me as I could.

My bedroom was spotlessly clean, devoid of personality. It overlooked the pool and gardens and was tastefully decorated when I was just a boy in taupe and navy. Not one poster had ever hung on these walls, other than some vintage travel posters. A bookshelf with some artfully arranged picture frames were literally the only personal items in here, other than my clothes. The private en suite bathroom was the same.

Still, I was always instantly relaxed the moment I closed the door behind me. If I didn’t shut it, a maid or someone would come in and try to unpack for me. I’d never said anything, but I didn’t really dig people touching my shit.

I threw my bag on the chair and fished out a bottle of bourbon. At the very least, I could get lit before sitting through a meal with two people I loathed. Actually, that wasn’t fair. I tolerated Clair. It was my father who’d disappointed me over and over again. She was just window dressing.

Nevada

I waved ecstatically at my mother across the parking lot. I know a lot of girls my age aren’t crazy about their mothers but I was. Like, really crazy about her. She was the hardest working, smartest, toughest, best person I know.

Also she treated me as an adult. She had ever since I was a kid. Things had been hard but she’d trusted and respected me enough to be straight with me about what was happening when my dad left, among other things.

Not to mention she’s freaking beautiful. For a long time I’d felt a little bit like an ugly duckling around her. But she always told me I would catch up.

I ran toward her and got swept up in a bear hug. Her long brown hair brushed my cheek. I inhaled the warm, comforting smell of her.
 

Vanilla and jasmine. Always.

“Welcome home baby girl!”

My mother leaned back and looked at me. She raised an eyebrow and smiled at me. Her smile was sardonic as she took in the ‘new me.’

“Not such a baby anymore though.”

I laughed. We hadn’t seen each other since Christmas and I’d changed a lot since then. I’d gotten used to my new curves, and learned how to dress them. A lot of that was Lucy’s doing.

My mother’s hazel eyes crinkled.

“Come on Nev, let’s get you settled. Are you excited to be home?”

I was, but mostly for reasons I could not and would not be telling anyone, especially not my mother. The tingle of excitement I felt had nothing to do with finding a summer job, or even seeing my best friend Frannie. It has everything to do with one extremely handsome college senior.

I immediately started arguing with myself, my internal monologue full of sensible, soul crushing honesty.

Stop it.

He could have a girlfriend!

There is no way Clay is ever going to want to date you.

You aren’t that hot!

I knew I was being silly. I didn’t even really want to date Clay anyway. I was curious though… about what it would be like to kiss him.

He looked like he knew what he was doing.

I climbed into my mom’s old car and put on my seat belt. Everything about this felt so familiar, but so weird. I was different. Even my mom had sensed it right away.

This summer was going to be special I could just tell.

I just wasn’t sure yet how special. Or why.

Chapter Four

Clay

Not one for slacking I started my first full day home with a match with the club pro Matt. It cost extra to play with him but I didn’t care. He was an amazing player and gave as good as he got. And for some reason, he considered me a friend.

Probably because most of the people who hired him were bored housewives hoping to get into his pants.

I’d noticed the cougar crowd dropping me hints the past few years as well. And now that I was 21… well maybe I’d take one of them up on it. At least I could be sure an older woman would know what she was doing.

I was dripping with sweat by the time we were done. I wasn’t a big fan of showering at the club so I left. Matt waved me off and begged me to book him as much as possible this summer. I promised I would.

What the fuck else was I supposed to do?

Except, well,
fuck.

As much as possible.

As many girls as possible.

Speaking of which maybe I’d text Jen later. I knew she was waiting on me. I did enjoy working out horizontally, especially with a sexy female like Jen. She liked to sport fuck as much as I did.

I was turning down our driveway in my convertible when I hit the breaks.

Hard.

A girl was biking toward me. From the general direction of the house. Long dark blond hair blew behind. Big high tits filled out her t-shirt admirably. She had a teeny tiny waist and long tanned legs. She rode closer and I tried to get a look at her face.

Pretty, that much was obvious, with big beautiful eyes. I could see her puffy lips from twenty feet away. Cute little nose too.
 

The girl looked like a God damned swimsuit model.

No. Wait. What.

My brain went utterly blank as I realized something.

It was Mouse. Mouse was the swim suit model. I was staring at Mouse with lust.

Hot, unrelenting lust.

I jolted to action as she pulled up by my car.

“Nev?”

She stopped her bike, those impossibly long legs straddling the seat. Her jean shorts were short, almost up to the top of her perfect thighs. I swallowed, realizing my mouth was a little bit dry.

But my dick was throbbing.

She smiled at me, cool as a cucumber. Where was the worshipful little Mouse I knew and loved?

“Hey Clay.”

She’d grown up obviously. And she’d grown up
right.

Still, I knew how to charm the pants off a girl, no matter how hot she was. And I wanted to. I knew it instantly. I wanted to fuck Mouse, of all people.

Really, really bad.

I smiled, letting my eyes wander over that ridiculously perfect little body.

“Where you going?”

She tossed her head, sending a cascade of wavy blond hair over her shoulder. It was very sexy, but not deliberate or coy. She was unconsciously seductive. It was hypnotizing.

“Job hunting.”

I smirked.

“In that outfit?”

She looked down at herself and back at me.

I pulled my sunglasses down and switched gears.

“I think you’ve outgrown those shorts little Mouse.”

Then I drove away. Slowly. Very slowly.

Just so I could check out her ass in the rear view window.

Good lord, the girl was fine. She’d stop traffic anywhere. No matter what she was wearing.

I went into the house to change, all thoughts of texting Jen forgotten.

Nevada

Well, that was interesting.

Clay had definitely noticed that I’d grown up. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that though. It was gratifying to see the dumbfounded look on his face, that was true. But I’d felt something else. Something that scared me.

Anticipation.

Hot, insistent anticipation.

Like I knew on some level that something was going to happen.
 

No no no.

Bad Nevada! BAD!

He is no good for you.

I mean, I knew he was probably very, very good but for the sake of the argument that I am having with myself- he was very, very bad.

Bad for my peace of mind.

Bad for my plans.

Bad for my self respect.

Because any self-respecting girl would make him work for it after everything that had happened over the years. Make him work hard. Or never ever give into his charm, his smiles, his invitations.

And there had been an unspoken invitation in his eyes.

There was no doubt of that.

I had a feeling suddenly I’d have a very difficult time avoiding Clayton “Bedroom Eyes” Westfield this summer. Avoiding or ignoring. Basically I knew it would be impossible.

I sighed and pedaled faster. The bottoms of my ancient Keds had basically zero tread left so I couldn’t go as fast as I might have liked to. I wanted to go fast enough to outrun my thoughts.

My dirty, naughty little thoughts.

But for the moment, they weren’t going anywhere.

It was about ten miles to town. It didn’t take too long to bike there. Which was a good thing since I was without ‘alternative transportation.’

Yes, I was the only 18 (almost 19) year-old for a hundred miles without a car.
 
Most 16 year-olds around here had their own cars. And not just cars either- hybrid luxury SUV’s.

So be it.

I didn’t have to be like everybody else now did I?

I parked my beat up old bike and locked it with a basic bike lock. It was ridiculous I know to think that someone, anyone in this rich town would steal my million year old bike but I didn’t care. I liked it and so I locked it up.

Besides, it’s not like I could afford a new one.

I walked up and down the small rectangle of streets that constituted our town. I walked for an hour looking for help wanted ads. Finally I went into the stores and cafes, one after the other. No one was hiring, not even the coffee shop.

Scratch that.

No one was hiring
me.

I pedaled back toward the estate, trying to figure out what I was going to do. The day camp I’d worked for in the past didn’t pay enough to cover school expenses. Plus, now I was legal so more jobs should be open to me. Technically speaking, I could work anywhere. Of course around here that meant one thing: fine dining. There were five star restaurants everywhere. Hell, even the food trucks in Sonoma had Zagat ratings.