chapter 7
Sweet Little Lies
Laken
Late in the night, after the entire homecoming debacle is over, Coop drives us to his house in thick, sobering silence. A sturdy green sign reads, Welcome to Heaven as we drive the final few miles past the dimpled dogwoods with their fiery red leaves.
Cooper looks so damn handsome in his suit with his hair gelled back, his warm cologne pulling me in like fingers. I’m still wearing my red dress, my sky-high heels, but I tossed some clothes in my backpack for the morning which I don’t normally do. I could have changed, but something in me wanted to impress Coop with my formal wear, my geisha-like makeup that crosses the border between glam and transvestite. I’m craving Coop, calling out to him like a lost child in hopes for his stray attention.
We could have left earlier if it wasn’t for Jen. She was so distraught over the “duel for her affection” she couldn’t see straight, so I helped her down to her haunted suite. She conked out before her head hit the pillow and good thing because I was close to slapping her silly for letting the histrionics carry on a little too long. I don’t think I’d lose my mind like she did if two boys were fighting over me. I try to envision a scuffle between Wes and Coop. I get lost for a moment in the imagery of angry faces, tangled limbs, split lips while the room erupts in expletives. Something sensual enlivens in me at the thought of the two of them going at it on my behalf.
“So”—Coop nods in my direction as we make our way through the white picket fence—“everything go okay with Wes tonight? You looked like a beauty queen—still do.”
A warm rush filters through me as I blush head to toe. Coop knows how to make me feel like a princess.
“Thank you. And it went fine,” I say as we make our way up the porch. It feels great like this with Coop, coming home with him night after night. His bed feels more like my own than the one waiting for me at Austen House. “I saw you talking to Wes earlier. Anything you want to share?” I’m almost afraid to ask.
“He was feeling me out.” Coop opens the door and lets us in. “He was playing it cool but started asking about Grayson. He wants us to go on a ‘double date.’” Coop mouths the words with a silent laugh. He takes up my hand and electrocutes me with a jolt of excitement. Coop leads us through the dim lit house as if we were on some covert mission. So I guess it’ll be you and me, and him and Grayson, he teases. You think they’ll make out in front of us?
Ha, ha. Very funny. The thought of watching Grayson rub up against Coop all night makes me want to vomit.
Coop pulls me in and gives a remorseful smile. His cologne sweeps over me, seducing me in ways I could never imagine. Coop rakes his breath over my cheek. For a second our eyes lock, and I’m not sure what the next moment will bring.
“I’m not into Grayson,” he rasps it out in a hoarse whisper.
I wonder if I should reciprocate and say the same about Wes, but my lips seal themselves together instead.
Coop presses his hand in the small of my back as he leads us deeper into the house. A nightlight glows from the kitchen, and it affords the entire downstairs a suburban romantic appeal.
A shadow appears in the living room. “You’ve brought a guest.”
I jump behind Coop nearly taking out his shoulder.
“Dad.” His voice increases in volume and rocks me out of the quiet fantasy world we were spinning through a moment ago.
“Hi, Dr. Flanders.” I maneuver next to Coop, more than slightly embarrassed. This can’t look good. “I have the DNA samples,” I say it boastfully as if that were my sole purpose for being here—as if I always wore a short lace dress on my scientific dealings after midnight.
“Perfect.” Dr. Flanders says it rather sternly as he adjusts his wire-rimmed glasses. He’s wrapped in a blue flannel robe with his house slippers on, and it makes me uncomfortable to see him this way. “Come with me,” he says as he leads us to the back office.
He flicks on the small desk lamp, and the room illuminates enough to make me squint. I glance up at the wall where the family portrait hangs and take in his mother with her fair coloring, her smooth easy smile. I want to memorize her. I want to recognize her if I somehow end up in those Celestra tunnels.
“Laken?” Dr. Flanders blinks in my direction. “Would you like to give me the samples?”
“Oh yes,” I say, pulling the plastic bag from my backpack. “It’s mostly hair, and I stole her toothbrush.”
Neither Dr. Flanders nor Coop seems that impressed with my hygienic heist.
I study Dr. Flanders as he hems and haws over the articles before placing them in a small, white bin.
“I’ll run a complete panel and have the results to you as soon as possible. Have you noticed anything odd about her in general?”
“She’s the spitting image of Hattie Tobias,” I say. “Hattie’s ghost.” I’m quick to correct.
Dr. Flanders stares pensively past the two of us before nodding. “We’ll know soon enough.” He presses out the impression of a dull laugh. “What’s going on here?” He directs the question to Coop.
“It was homecoming tonight.” Coop leans back and takes a deep breath. He’s still in his suit jacket. His teal tie, that matched Grayson’s monstrosity of a dress, hangs from his neck like a noose. “I thought we’d chill out, maybe watch a movie.”
Dr. Flanders doesn’t appear amused. His lips twist while needling Coop with an aggressive stare. “Marky’s apprised me of the ongoing situation. Turns out, Laken’s been spending quite a bit of time here—mostly early morning hours from what I understand.” He amps up the sarcasm and suddenly I’m eyeing the exit.
Shit.
“Cooper sleeps on the floor,” I say it so fast it sounds like a lie. I wonder if that’s how I’ll say it to Wes when he finds out.
Guilt crushes me like a pile of stones lying over my chest.
I bet Dr. Flanders thinks all kinds of inappropriate things are going on upstairs.
An image of Coop’s naked body writhing over mine flies through my mind—his teeth grazing over my shoulder, the curve of his bare back, his shin flexing as he pushes into me—it plays on a loop and I can’t shut it off.
“Laken?” Dr. Flanders knocks on his desk. “I asked if you’re using protection.”
“Protection?” An image of a shotgun bounces through my mind until I realize that’s not the kind of self-defense he’s referring to.
Crap. We just went there.
He frowns into Coop before dipping into his medical bag and producing a pair of small foil packets.
Condoms! Ack! Shit, shit, shit!
Everything in me wants to jump out of the chair, my skin—the window. Is this Dr. Flanders’ way of giving us his carnal blessing? By offering us parting gifts for the evening?
Just sitting next to Coop makes me feel dirty now.
“They’re not mine.” It comes out dry as he looks to Coop. “They’re from the convention. They’re stunt condoms. They light up, heat up, vibrate, what have you.” He gives an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know what they do and please do not give a report in the morning,” he says, rising from his seat. “Goodnight.” Dr. Flanders moves swiftly out of the room. His footsteps resonate in soft thumps down the hall, and I hold my breath until all traces of him are no longer audible.
“Stunt condoms?” I say, stymied by his father’s strange spontaneous PSA equip with circus-worthy prophylactics.
Coop swipes them off the desk in one easy move and gives a wicked grin.
“I guess it’s time to get to bed.”
Cooper Flanders looks as if he were hewn from limestone, that his face was blessed by God and his heart was made of gold so pure it flowed throughout his body in its molten, liquid form. It’s no wonder Coop glows, inside and out. He’s remarkable and kind, and deep down I know he can never be mine.
“Why so sad?” he says, pausing from unbuttoning his dress shirt. He barricaded the door to his room as if locking it could never be enough, and I blushed at the implications, although I’m still convinced they’re platonic.
I shrug, unwilling to share how unfair everything feels at the moment. How a little part of me wished I were Grayson Evans earlier this evening.
“You never saved that dance for me.” It comes out so ridiculous, I bury my head in his pillow. I watched him with Grayson every chance Wes happened to look away. And, sadly for Wes, I wished I were with Coop more than a few times tonight.
The soft hum of music fills the room. He switches off the lights, and my insides tighten at the thought of dancing in the dark with Coop of all people.
“Coop! You so don’t have to do this.” My heart melts as he lures me over with the tug of my hand. “We’ll wake Marky.”
“She’s dead until seven.”
My fingers, clasp over his, my hand lands soft over his chest and to my surprise it’s bare.
“You’re not wearing a shirt.” I try to hold back the budding smile from forming on my lips. I take him in like this, lost in the shadows, his skin expanding, smooth and hard as granite. “I think you’re underdressed.”
“Oh really?” He smolders into me. “I think you’re overdressed.”
I tip my head back and laugh.
The curtains are stretched wide, allowing the streetlight to spray the room with a touch of night magic. Coop bites down on his lip, and a fire spreads through my body, warm and alive, all for Cooper. I glance down at the curves of his chiseled abs, the flat wall of his chest a mile wide. He presses his hips to mine and my insides explode with heat.
Here we go.
My body quivers as I increase my grip over his fingers. His touch ignites an inferno ripping through every intimate part of me. I don’t remember the last time Wes made me feel this way, and everything in me wants to cry. I shouldn’t feel this way about anybody else—especially not Coop.
The curve of a devilish smile plays on his lips as he pulls me in. The light scent of his woodsy cologne encircles us, makes me dizzy in a good way. I lay my face against his chest, and my cheek sears over his heated flesh.
Coop presses his hand into the small of my back, and my body takes on his contours. I can feel his strong arms protecting me like wings of steel. His erection protrudes against my thigh, but I choose to ignore it for now.
He sighs into me, blowing a warm breath over my hair before bowing down and planting a kiss just behind my ear.
“Laken.” It heaves from him with the undertones of disappointment—a sadness that we share while rocking steady to the music.
It’s torture like this with Coop.
He pulls back and winces into me. His eyes lock over mine as a blaze ignites in our hearts. It lights the entire room up in flames, and, dear God, do I ever want to burn.
Cooper leans in and touches his cheek to mine. He draws his forehead over the top of my head—his mouth hedges just shy of my lips as if asking permission. His chest pumps wild against my own as if demanding an explanation as to why I’m denying a god like Cooper Flanders the right to love me like he wants to. A question I’m beginning to ask myself on a loop.
Coop heaves a heated breath right over my mouth, and I turn my face ever so slightly to deflect something that I want just as bad as he does. His hands move manic over my body, his hips grind into mine with bone-crushing intensity. I can feel every nuance—I can feel him.
He rocks us steady over to the bed, and I fall back all too willingly.
Cooper lands on top of me, our fingers still interlaced. He locks my legs with his knees as he nuzzles into my neck.
Coop lets out a defeated sigh. His warm breath washes over me with all of the love and affection he can afford.
This is it. A real do or die moment. Things could swing either way. I take in a ragged breath and close my eyes. If he kisses me I won’t stop him. If he pushes the limits I won’t resist. I’ve worn myself out trying to hold back my affection for Coop. Trying to pull Wes in from the riptide, the Counts created, has only blown us an ocean apart and ground me down to nothing in the process.
His body relaxes over mine. Coop buries his face in my neck and takes in my scent one more time.
He pulls back and gives the hint of a smile before descending toward my lips. Coop cautiously inches his way to my mouth, closer, then nothing but a breath away. My heart detonates with a horrific charge, beating Wesley’s name with every thump as if it were urging me to stop and consider—to bury the last relationship before starting another.
I can feel the warmth of his mouth just over mine, as I part my lips, ready—so ready.
A loud knock booms from the other side of the door.
“Good night you two!” Dr. Flanders calls out.
“Good night!” Coop and I shout in unison, a little overeager. Cooper rolls off and lets out a quiet sigh.
“That scared me,” I whisper as the footsteps dissipate back downstairs.
Coop takes up my hand again, his face still wearing that eternal look of sorrow—that stolen smile.
“What scared you? My dad or me?”
“Both of you.” I sink into the mattress. “I’m so sorry, Coop. Never in my wildest dreams would I want to lead you on.”
“You want Wes, I get it.” His gaze drops down to the narrow space between us. The stale light of the moon seeps in over the bed and lights a line over our bodies as if sealing us together.
“I don’t know what I want. In my heart I don’t think I can reach him again. He’s gone, Coop, but a part of me can’t accept that.” I swallow hard. “He says he has something special planned for me on Halloween. I thought maybe it was,” I pause motioning with my fingers, “you know.” I shake my head. “He said it isn’t, but it got me thinking. How far am I willing to go? Am I going to sleep with him?” It’s a rhetorical question but one I’d really like Coop’s thoughts on.
“I vote for no,” he deadpans.
“Coop.” I let out a little laugh and swat him over the shoulder. “I mean—I could. If he thinks we’re close then maybe he’d take me to the tunnels. I need my sister, Coop. Our families are suffering.” I can’t bring myself to extrapolate any further on the subject. It’s like I’m gearing up for a life of sexual espionage. Trading secrets for sex sounds dirty even if the recipient is Wes.
Coop pinches his lower lip as if he’s physically trying to restrain himself from saying anything.
“Sorry about that.” I’m pretty sure sexually strategizing with Cooper Flanders is a rotten idea. If anything, Cooper is a part of the problem, not the solution. Really, I wouldn’t be having this conversation if it weren’t for him. In fact, I would have long since given myself to Wes—to hell with his self-imposed rule on waiting to get my memory back.
“Laken,” he whispers, carefully stroking the hair away from my face. “I would never in my wildest dreams ask you to touch another person to further this endeavor. I swear to you, if you want to sit back and watch from the sidelines, I’ll find a way into those tunnels. I can do this on my own.”
“Wes is the door.”
“So are the Tobias sisters.” He’s quick with the reply. “Please Laken…” Coop shakes his head. His eyes plead with me more than words could ever do. “Don’t give something away that’s so sacred. Don’t erode the landscape of your heart like this. One day you’re going to really want to be with someone,” he pauses, and I reflect on the fact he just replaced Wesley’s name with the word someone, presumably him. “And when you are”—he reaches up and rakes his fingers through my hair—“it should be a thing of beauty—not a lure or a trap. You deserve something pure. You deserve perfect love.”
My heart rattles inside me as if it were trying to escape. It would be beautiful with Coop, pure—perfect love.
“The Tobias sisters,” I whisper their name in lieu of admitting I won’t sleep with Wes.
“I did some research,” he starts in gun shy. “Their father’s name was Emmanuel, the brother is Richard.”
“What about the little sister?” I remember Hattie mentioned her because she was Lacey’s age.
“Kara.” He digs a smile in his cheek. “I filled Flynn in on everything I knew. Told him not to tell his new gal pal in the event she tries to mislead us.”
I give a silent nod. Coop has everything under control. At least the things he can.
“Sounds like you’re getting along better with Flynn. What was that about anyway?” I ask it sweetly, almost too quiet for him to hear. I like it like this with Coop, our midnight murmurs with secrets spilling like oil.
“A girl.” He presses out a wry smile.
I scoot into him. “This is getting good.” I try to lighten the mood. I’ll talk about anything to get my mind off the Counts and what they’ve done, and are still doing, to our families. “Dish.” I give a crooked grin.
“You sure you want to hear this?” His brows dip as if he’s sure I don’t.
“Yes. I’m totally in the mood for an erotic bedtime story. Go right ahead. Who was she?” I bet its some girl they fought over in fourth grade with pigtails and glasses. I can totally imagine Flynn, hot on the prowl even then, and, of course, girls of all ages would be attracted to Coop. That’s just the law of physics.
“Grayson.” He gives a long tired blink.
My stomach flinches as if I had just been sucker punched.
That’s right, I think Flynn mentioned it a while back and I was quick to put it out of my mind. For whatever reason I didn’t think it was real coming from Flynn, but from Cooper’s mouth it’s scripture.
My heart drops. I let out my defeat in a drawn out sigh. Coop was right. I didn’t want to know.
“You fought over Grayson?” And I needed to repeat this, why?
“I’m not sure you could call it a fight. He was fooling around with her at the same time I was. I just so happened to be the only one out of the loop.”
“Sounds like you’ve misplaced your anger.” Funny because I can feel mine beginning to rise. “She’s the one who cheated. Flynn was just being Flynn.”
He shakes his head. “You’re right about Flynn, but Grayson didn’t cheat. We weren’t officially together. I just didn’t like the feeling I was getting played. It left a bad taste in my mouth. And I don’t have it in me to be ticked off at a girl, so I shut down on Flynn. The end.”
“Oh.” I draw my thumb to my lower lip and consider this a good long while. Coop and Grayson. My mind starts in on an entire series of inappropriate thoughts involving Coop and Grayson’s boobs—their limbs knotted up in passion, Coop lost in the folds of her pillowy flesh. The entire idea makes me want to hurl.
“I’m sorry, Laken.” He says it sober as if he had somehow truly hurt me with this—and he had.
“No, don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I glance down at the slim space between us. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry we ever went down this thorny trail. Very sorry. “It’s fine. I mean, I’m still with Wes.” I blink back tears. “And you should be with whoever you want. If that person is Grayson, then that’s who you should be with.” God, I’m going to die the next time I see them together knowing he touched her in such an intimate way. My entire body revolts at the concept.
“I am with the exact person I want.” He touches his thumb to my cheek. “I want you, Laken. I don’t want to leave any shadow of a doubt. I swear to you when I saw you that first day in the forest, I felt like you were family—like in some strange way we’d see each other again because it was inevitable. From the moment I laid eyes on you, you’ve never left my heart, my head, even when I sleep you’re there waiting for me. All chaste dreams of course.” He raises his hand like a Boy Scout and holds back a smile. “Mostly.” He gives a quick wink. “Laken, I know you’re not through with Wes, that the old Wesley still means everything to you. But when you dig down deep and don’t find him there anymore, I want you to know I’ll be waiting for you. Maybe we can try things out. See if it works.” He interlaces our fingers. “Because if I’m right, this”—he touches my hand to his lips—“this is meant to be.”
Deep down inside I know he’s right. There is definitely some connection here that spans time and place, life and death, and links me right back to Cooper. Destiny meant him to be more than a friend. This is real, and this is right.
“I think you’re really special, Coop.” An unexpected surge of tears stings my eyes, and I blink them away. “In fact, I know you’re special. Something is happening here. I feel things for you—amazing things.”
Wes flashes before me like an unwanted hologram. Not even in the recesses of my mind had I thought I wouldn’t get old Wes back. It weighs me down with a grief so palpable I can hardly stand to breathe.
Coop scoots in until I’m resting against his chest again. His familiar woodsy scent pulsates over me in waves, and he comforts me with his body warm against mine.
“Do you think we can we sleep like this tonight?” It comes out childlike, and I feel like a horrible person for even asking. I’m pretty sure Grayson was anything but childlike while lying in bed with Coop. Grayson Evans is everything I’m not.
“You don’t sound childlike, Laken.” He kisses my finger. “You sound pure—sweet. And, you’re right, that’s everything Grayson’s not.” He presses out a slow spreading grin, and the dimple above his eye ignites. “I don’t want Grayson. I never did. I only want you, Laken, and I’m sorry I came on so strong. I’ll try harder to control myself.”
“I wanted to kiss you.” I bleed the words out, and my body exhales as if I had been holding up a boulder all night. “I just don’t want to be that girl, Coop. The one who runs around kissing two boys, telling them both the same things. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror, and, by the way, I’m already having a tough time.” I give his hand a squeeze. “If Wes found out about us… if he knew I’ve been spending the night, drawing the blood from your body—enjoying every touch, every glance you’ve ever given me”—I brush my fingers over his heart-stopping features—“everything would come crashing to an end. Our only hope would be the Tobias sisters, and, as it stands, the clock is ticking on their offer.” I bow my head in defeat. Time is cascading away like sand through our fingers, and of all the things to worry about it’s my relationship with Cooper that crowds the forefront of my mind. Where will we end up when all is said and done? My heart aches to know this.
The sound of a car skidding off the property startles us. Coop hops over me and peers out the window. His chest expands as the car melts back into the night.
“What was that?”
“Not what—who.” Coop leans against his desk with a faraway look in his eye. “We’d better find the Tobias family, Laken. It looks like they might be our only hope.”
A shiver runs through me. Every muscle in my body freezes because I think I know the answer to my next question. “Why are they our only hope?”
“That car that just drove off like a bat out of hell? It was Wes.”
Cooper
The next day drizzles by as uneventful as the weather. Flynn insists he’s getting closer to the Tobias family as he continues his underground “Spectator” sport of personally tracking them down.
“So what exactly are you doing to gain their trust?” I ask as we trek through the murky backwoods just north of campus.
“I’m offering their lives back in exchange for information.” He grunts as he trips over a root as thick as my leg.
“Okay, so you’ve got their attention.” I scan the forest for movement. “What do you think is going to happen when it comes time to cough up a resurrection or two? Pearl is dead in case you forgot. She rotted right back to the core in less than ten minutes of her second untimely demise. Speaking of which, I need to get her out of the morgue.”
“What the hell for?” The whites of his eyes expand as if I suggested we eat her for dinner.
“There’s no one to claim the body, genius.”
“And stealing a corpse is going to help the situation, how?”
A faint buzzing emits to our left—probably birds—a hornet’s nest. Who the hell knows.
Flynn nods. “Every time I hear a noise out here, it spooks me, too.”
The fog swirls around our feet. It fills itself between the tree trunks and branches, washing out the landscape in an oily haze.
A girl’s voice pitches through the dull hum every now and again, then a distinctly male voice drones on with a sense of urgency. It’s not Laken. I’d know her a mile away.
“I know who that is,” Flynn whispers as we make our way as stealth as possible in their direction.
“Which one?”
“The female.”
Of course, it’s the female. Flynn’s got sonar for every chick in the western hemisphere.
A rustle of leaves—the sound of footsteps heading in this direction magnifies with the steady crush of pine needles over the forest floor.
“Remember what I told you.” The male says it stern, yet with the false air of tenderness. “This is a simple assignment. If you keep up the good work, you might just get what you’re after.”
“And if I don’t?” Her voice quivers. She sounds frightened, haunted.
“You’re a smart girl,” he says it low, just this side of a growl. “You know what happens if you don’t.”
The footsteps increase in sound and volume right behind the overgrown hedge in front of us.
Shit.
A dark shadow emerges, as Flynn and I exchange glances.
“What have we got here?” Mr. Edinger pulls his lips in a smug line. He’s cloaked in a long wool coat that hangs like a dress, and his feet stand at ease. “Are you two looking for something? These woods are off limits to students as I was just explaining to Ms. Tobias.”
Hattie appears from behind him, looking embarrassed, not at all like her morbidly-dry self. Her posture straightens as if leaping into character. She clears her throat.
“Flynn, why don’t you escort Ms. Tobias back to her dormitory,” he says, squeezing himself into a pair of black leather gloves. “You’re lucky I happened to see you entering these woods, young lady. It’s a maze out here. One could easily get themselves killed.” He glances up at me when he says that last part.
Flynn and Hattie make a beeline out of here as if the forest were about to combust—not that it hasn’t happened before.
I turn to follow them out.
“Mr. Flanders.” Edinger takes a step forward with that perennial sarcastic smile hedging on his lips. “What was it that you and Mr. Masterson were looking for?”
Daylight defuses behind him and gives the illusion the evergreens are about to spear him with their daggers. Edinger stands against the woods like a shadow as tall and wide as a door.
“Who said we were looking for anything? Just taking a late afternoon hike. Must have gone off the trail. Didn’t even notice the trees sprouting up around us.” I say it slow and measured as I gauge him.
“Temperatures will be dipping into the thirties. Make sure you dress warm.” He expands his lips even further until it looks as if he’s strained out a smile.
I doubt he kept me behind to talk about the weather.
I turn to head back.
“Keep out of the woods, Mr. Flanders,” he calls after me. “I’d hate to see anything happen to you.”
There it is, the not so veiled threat I felt coming on like a cold. I glance back. He hasn’t moved an inch. His body looks as if he’s dissolving into the haze. Edinger steps backward until the fog envelops him completely, nothing but his wicked grin visible for me to see—and then that too vanishes like smoke.
I speed over to where he was standing with my heart trying to jam its way out of my throat.
He’s gone.
“So why is it that big of a deal that Edinger popped out of existence?” Laken bites down on her lip, and it springs back, luscious and full, ripe as a cherry.
The scent of fried tortilla chips fills the air and suddenly a smell I thought I had grown immune to has the power to intoxicate me. Maria’s Mexican Restaurant looks different with Laken standing in it—more regal, less of the roach trap it really is.
I glance over her shoulder at Grayson, who’s growing increasingly impatient sitting by herself at the table.
I drove both Grayson and Laken down to Maria’s for the so-called double date I let Wes rope me into. Wes had a last minute emergency and said he’d meet up with us.
Laken sighs. “We knew he was Fem, remember? That whole episode with him hacking off his head and chasing me?”
“He played it off. He used your supposed ‘brain injury’ to make it look like you were going insane. But this is different. I don’t have a brain injury, Laken—real or imagined.” I rock on my feet a moment trying to figure it all out. “I don’t know. I felt like it was some tip-off of things to come.”
“He must know you work for Wes—that you dispose of Spectators. I don’t know why it’s a secret to begin with.”
“Fems only come out if they have to.” I shake my head. “He wanted me to know. There’s a reason—there always is.”
Laken takes a breath before bolting back to the table without a word.
I take it as a cue that Wes has arrived, so I head into the kitchen a moment. Just because I’m off doesn’t mean they wouldn’t appreciate the help. I snap up some chips and salsa for us, and my phone buzzes in my jeans.
It’s a text from Flynn.
H me
H me? Knew it. All the crap he’s pumped into his system has finally dissolved his last living brain cell. If his GPA continues to plummet, he’ll be off the team by midterms.
I grab the food and head back to the table.
Wes sits tall and proud next to Laken with his jet-black wool coat that makes his shoulders look wide as a refrigerator. His dark hair gleams in this low light like its primed for some freaking shampoo commercial. Wes is a dick just like Edinger. Only, unlike Edinger, I doubt Wesley is going to disappear voluntarily. Nope I’m not that lucky. This is one a*shole that’s here to stay.
“Here we go,” I say, landing the food on the table. Grayson sits square in the middle, so I have to cozy up beside her, so I won’t fall off. Laken makes a face at my close encounter with her nemesis. “So where were you at?” I knuckle bump Wes from across the table.
“Water polo. Coach made us stay late. A couple of the guys were goofing off, and everyone had to pay.”
“I know how that goes.” I grab a chip and dig in while the three of them examine the menus.
“What do you recommend, Coop?” Grayson dips the low cut V of her blouse onto the table, and her boobs expand to the sides as if they just found a resting place. I can’t help but think it looks as if she just offered herself up as a meal.
“Number sixteen is always good. You get three different things and a side of rice and beans.”
“You really know your way around this place.” Wes cuts me a sarcastic smile. “One day you might even work your way up to head chef.” He pushes out a closed-mouth laugh.
I nod, trying to absorb the fact Wes just openly mocked the shit out of me. One day Wes is going to be running a major corporation, and I’ll probably be selling a number sixteen to Grayson and her fiancé slash manager. I’d like to think I’ll be the one with Laken, though.
“Wes,” Laken says it controlled yet thoroughly pissed. “Coop won’t always be working here. He’ll have to divide his time with all of the other restaurants he’ll own.” She cuts him a look that says cross this line, and I’ll slit your throat.
I try not to glance up at Laken, but our eyes snap toward one another like a magnet, and I smile. I don’t give a shit what Wes thinks about that.
I love you, I want to tell her, but keep my mouth shut for fear of having my teeth rearranged. Besides, we need Wes. I glance at him as he silently fumes at Laken’s rebuttal to his elitist sense of non-humor. Jackass. I like the idea of Laken using him. I very much plan on rubbing it in his face one day. Hopefully soon—like tomorrow.
“I think restaurants sound exciting.” Grayson shrugs like she really doesn’t. “But I think you should own clothing stores—designer labels only of course. You know, Louboutin, Vera Wang, La Perla.”
Wesley gives a dull grin. “So you’re thinking wedding bells, huh?” he teases. “The shoes, the gown, the lingerie. You’ve got all the bases covered.”
“We should have a double wedding.” Grayson drips with dark humor as she taunts Laken. “You know,” she glances up at Wes. “You and Kresley, me and Coop. It’ll be like the old days.”
Wes frowns, but doesn’t say a word.
“Oh!” Grayson claps her pink nails over her mouth. “Was I not supposed to say anything? I mean Kres was telling me all about how the two of you reconnected. It was after homecoming, right? You were running around, looking for Laken and couldn’t find her—then Kres stepped in.”
“Enough.” Wes grits it through his teeth.
Laken and I exchange a quick glance. You can see the hurt on her face, plain as day.
“What?” Grayson feigns surprise. “I could have sworn Kres said you found her in your bed—or was it that Kres ended up in your bed?” She fills her mouth with a chip and bites down over it as if it were Wesley’s balls.
“Nobody ended up in my bed.” Wes gruffs it out as if the topic isn’t up for debate. “Drop it.”
We put in our orders and hobble through light conversation, avoiding the minefield that is Kresley and homecoming. Laken has lost her shine. Her easy smiles traded in for long eyes, the shadow of a frown hovers around her mouth.
Grayson excuses herself to use the restroom, and, to my surprise, Laken follows.
“You hear anything else about that girl? Pearl?” Wes crumples his napkin with marked aggression.
“Nothing.” I take a swig of my soda. “They ever find her parents?”
Wes cuts me a dirty look as if it has the power to set my balls on fire. “They’re not finding her parents, Coop,” he hisses, leaning in. “She morphed into a f*cking Spectator in the event your blond ass hadn’t noticed.”
The muscles in my jaw distend because Paxton or Parker or whoever the hell he is tonight, is really starting to piss me off.
“Find a way to dump that body,” he snaps. “The last thing we need is the coroner, turning this over to the government.”
“Just what I was thinking. I’m on it.”
His dimples go off without a smile. “You and I seem to be thinking about the same things lately—the same people.”
“Are we back at this again?” I say, plucking the straw from my cup and pouring the rest of my drink straight down my throat. “I’m with Grayson,” I say, clamping the red tumbler over the table. “Things are great. Sorry if she rocked the boat with you and Laken, tonight. I’ll talk to her—make sure it doesn’t happen again. If you want to bang both Kres and Laken”—I hold out my hands—“that’s your business, dude.”
Wes lunges across the table and pulls me in by the shirt with a snarl locked on his face. “You f*cking p-ssy,” he huffs it out low as if trying to avoid a scene. “I wasn’t with Laken last night. You were.” He knocks me back as he lets go. “I drove to your house, or didn’t your daddy tell you?”
“My dad?”
“That’s right.” Gone is the sarcastic ass he’s been all night. Wes is pissed, plain as day, not one undercurrent of defeat—never a good combination in a power-hungry brat who’s used to getting every damn thing he wants.
“I couldn’t find Laken,” he continues. “She wasn’t answering her phone, and neither were you.”
Shit. I saw his stupid missed call this morning and blew it off.
“I drove to your house,” he insists as if he wants me to admit to something. “Your dad was out front smoking a cigarette.”
My gut bursts in a vat of hot bile. I knew it was his truck.
“I asked where you were, and he said you had a girl upstairs.” His brows rise, amused at the concept. “I drove back to campus, and the only girl missing was Laken.” His chest expands, and I can feel a fight coming on. “Kres helped me track down Grayson, who, by the way, was off entertaining herself with a dick not attached to your body—just like old times, huh?”
Wes leans back and folds his arms. I know what he’s waiting for—the big denial.
“So tell me, Coop.” Wes doesn’t take his eyes off mine, neither one of us blinks. “Who was this mystery girl you were shacking up with under daddy’s supervision? Are you going to try to tell me it was Pearl? You expect me to believe you’ve got dead Spectators giving you blowjobs now? Who was it?”
“It was Laken.”
Wesley
A trail of smoke fills the air as an order of fajitas hisses its way past us.
I just sit and stare at Cooper almost-dead Flanders as he glares over at me an inordinate amount of time.
It was Laken.
I just asked the f*cker who the girl was in his bed, and he copped to it being my girlfriend without missing a beat. Either something’s not right, or Flanders has a death wish I’ll be more than happy to make come true.
I shake my head. “Rattle out your excuses because we both know damn well you’ve got ‘em.”
Grayson and Laken come back just in the nick of time.
Great. I bet Coop will be sweating out one excuse after the next until we get a chance to continue our conversation. I’m sure he’ll think he’s bulletproof. Doesn’t matter. I think it’s time I arrange a happy accident for Flanders—send a couple girls his way he won’t be able to resist, then have them bite his balls off. Serves him right for thinking about Laken, and God forbid touching her. The thought makes me insane.
“Everything okay?” Laken picks up on the tension and scoots in next to me—probably to read my mind.
The food arrives and I give a depleted sigh as we start in on our meals.
I lied. I didn’t go to Coop’s looking for Laken. I went to Coop’s looking to accuse him of letting Laken suck off his neck. Little did I know this was a nightly occurrence. Hattie Tobias said Laken hasn’t slept in her bed in weeks. What the f*ck?
After I left Coop’s, I panicked and tried to call her—to find her, and that’s when Kres reared her wicked head. She offered to comfort me in ways that were far from emotional, but I turned her down cold. Grayson was just covering her own corrupt tracks when she tried to rat me out for something I didn’t do. Not that I didn’t rat her out in the end, but that’s what a night like tonight is for, spilling greasy secrets, watching each other slip in the mess.
Coop pays the bill before I can whip out my wallet, and we rise from the booth, thankful this nightmare is over.
“Good stuff.” Coop stretches like a bear. “I’ll take you home, Grayson.” He ushers her out with his hand over her shoulder and gives Laken a high-five as they pass one another.
Her face smooths out in horror as they let off.
He told her.
She knows.
It’s cold as hell, but Laken agrees to drive to Charity with me. We exchanged small talk on the way over, mostly about how the evening went, and I’m shocked she didn’t try to force-feed me a mountain of bullshit.
The stars are cleverly hidden beneath a wash of pink fog. The lake shines like a silver platter under the harsh glare of the moon. I lay a blanket over the ground, and we sit on the shore with my jacket wrapped around the two of us. I hold her hand off and on, terrified I won’t be able to control my thoughts, that I’ll spill everything I know about her and Coop, and she won’t have a chance to tell me a single lie. Deep down inside, I wish Laken would lie to me. I want to soak in all the dishonesty she’s willing to sling my way just to keep this relationship going. The desperate hours have arrived. Our relationship was on life support all along, and I was the last to know.
“I want you to tell me something,” I say, pulling her in by the waist.
We’re going to have to go there. If she and Cooper are as close as I’m afraid they are, then we’re going to have to dig up the casket of our love and look inside no matter how hideous the results might be. I’m sure he’ll call her in a few hours, and they’ll have a teleconference over what an idiot I am. Or worse, they’ll gloss over it in bed before they detonate over one another.
“Tell you what?” She rocks into me.
The pale wash of moonlight strips all the color from her face, from her hair. It leaves those pale eyes of hers glowing like that of a cat, and I want to lie her back in the sand and show her exactly how much I love her right here without another word soiling what I thought was so pure.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you, too.” She wraps her arms around my waist safely away from my skin. It makes me wonder why she didn’t dip under my sweater like she usually does. It’s cold out, certainly my skin would warm her hands.
Yesterday I trusted her like God himself, and now her every move is suspect.
“Laken—” I brush my cheek against hers. Her skin is so soft, it makes her feel impractically young, as if in some way she’s too naïve, too sweet and innocent to carry out such a malfeasance against my heart. I look over at her. My entire person is filled with an inexplicable sorrow as if innately I know the truth will certainly not set me free.
“What’s going on with you and Coop?” The words ooze from me like a bloodlet. “Why were you with him last night?” I stop shy of asking what they were doing, if she wanted it. An image of their bodies locked together pops through my mind, and I try to shake it away. I’m sure my darkest nightmares will show me a replay regardless if I want it or not.
The water whispers against the shore and fills the silence left in the wake of my question. Cooper is a disease that broke out over our relationship. He’s tearing up the fabric of who we are, shredding us to pieces, and I didn’t even know it.
Laken takes in a breath as if I’ve caught her off guard, and for a moment I wonder if Coop had filled her in on what happened after all.
Her cheeks darken in this dim light. I can tell she’s flustered by the way her fingers have spastically twined themselves around a loose thread on her sweater.
“Okay.” She swallows hard.
Tears glimmer in her eyes, and my heart drops. Shit. She’s not even going to deny it. I don’t know why I thought both she and Coop were going to try to pull off the world’s best snow job. I don’t know why I thought I was worth a lie or two—that the safekeeping of our so-called relationship was somehow worth the trouble.
“Are you ready to hear this?” She shoots the words out like daggers, and a ball of acid rips through my insides. The last thing I expected was Laken to be pissed at me.
“Yes,” I say it low, trying to defuse the situation.
“You never believe a damn thing I say,” she snaps. Her head ticks to the side as if she were readying for a showdown. If a shouting match is what she’s hoping for, she’ll be sorely disappointed. Not one part of me feels like fighting with Laken tonight or ever.
“What do you want me to believe?” I say it calm, sedate, and it only seems to piss her off more.
She takes a breath and holds it before bouncing to her left and gaping at me incredulously.
“Are we in Kansas again?” I shake my head. “Is that what this is about?” I can feel my blood pressure spike out of nowhere. I try to deny myself the right to an argument, but my emotions want to duke it out all the way back to her fictitious town.
“Forget it. You think I’m stupid.” She tries to get up, and I gently pull her back. I wrap my arms around Laken until she molds into me, and her perfume swims around me in laps.
“I don’t think you’re stupid, Laken. I never said that. I would never even think it.”
“You think I fell from a tree.”
“You did.”
“Look.” She lets out a sigh. “I don’t know what Coop told you or how you even found out I went over there.” She lies back in the sand and looks up at me with her eyes wide, her lips slightly downturned. “I’m going to tell you something else, and I’m pretty sure you won’t believe me.”
“Try me.” Because God knows I want to believe her more than I believe I’ll take my next breath.
“Okay.” She swallows hard, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
The moist slick reflects the moonlight and illuminates her features. Laken’s beauty outshines the moon and the lake. She’s a marvel that I plan on spending my entire life sketching. I dream of transposing her image to canvas in both oil and acrylic, charcoal and pastel. I’m hoping to surprise her with a stipple drawing of herself for Christmas. But I don’t know if she’ll want me around if I don’t buy into her fairytale musings.
Laken gets up on her elbows and gives an exasperated sigh as if she’s sorry she has to deal with me.
“You know who Hattie Tobias is, right?” She nods throwing me completely off track.
“What?” Did she just change the subject?
She averts her eyes as if she expected nothing less than ignorance on my part.
“She’s my new roommate. She’s been here for weeks.” A half-moon dimple presses into her cheek as she glares at me with disappointment.
Funny—Hattie said that Laken hadn’t slept in her dorm for weeks.
“Anyway”—she shakes her head—“I think there’s something very wrong with her. Like in a not human kind of way.”
My heart thumps. Laken was worried and didn’t bring me her concerns.
“She’s just weird,” she continues. “I can’t explain it. It’s almost as if I just know.” She sits up. “So I told Coop. He said he’d look into it as long as I collected some DNA, so I did.” She glances down a moment. “When you left last night, I went downstairs to sleep with Jen and bumped into Coop. That’s when I told him I had what he needed. He said his dad was home, and he could run the tests that night. I probably should have just let him take the samples, but Jen wasn’t in her room, and I was freaked out about being in the basement alone, so I asked if I could go with him.”
“So what were the test results?” I don’t know if I’m playing along or genuinely inquiring. At this point it feels like both.
“His dad said it was more complicated than he thought, and he might not know for days.”
I nod into her, waiting for her to finish. Laken didn’t come home last night. I’ll know she’s lying if she says she did.
“I fell asleep at his house, Wes.” She brings the sleeves of her jacket up over her mouth and sniffs away the tears. “I know you probably hate me.” She shakes her head. “But I have to know if Hattie Tobias is something I should fear…if they sent her.”
A chill runs through me. She still believes in “them.” She’s on a loop with her story, a hamster wheel of deception spun out from her own imagination, and she can’t find her way off the contraption.
“You don’t believe me.” She closes her eyes in defeat. Laken lowers her head until her hair sweeps down over her features like a curtain. She wants to let me into her world, and I’ve put up my own shield of disbelief. And why the hell does Flanders believe her, anyway? Obviously to land her in his bed. I’m not going to call her out on the private blood draws. I’m not ready to go there yet.
“I believe you, Laken. I believe you were terrified of Hattie, for whatever reason. I believe that Coop told you he could help you get to the bottom of this. Have you done this before? Spent the night at Cooper’s house?”
She shakes her head a little too aggressively.
“So you’ve been sleeping in the room with Hattie all along?”
“I’ve been with Jen.” Her eyes dart over the water when she says it. “Wes, I swear I love you. I want our relationship. I want us.” She takes up both my hands and shakes her head. “Please, Wes, really hear what I’m saying.” Her voice trembles as she draws herself to her knees. “You are my everything.” Laken pierces me with a primal intensity. “Let me in. Let me love you completely.”
Our eyes lock as if we were enemies at a standstill.
“Do you believe you’re Laken Stewart?”
A moment of silence slices by as deep as the ocean.
“Yes.” She doesn’t bother to deny it.
Shit. My eyes close involuntarily. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?
“Do you think you could still love me like this?” she whispers. “Broken?”
I pull her in and topple us down to the soft blanket, my face buried in her hair.
“I’ll always love you, Laken. You can never change that. No matter what happens.”
She finds my lips with hers, and I cave. I press in with a heated kiss that only moments before I was afraid we would never experience again. My body pulsates like one giant heartbeat as I massage my tongue over hers—I roam her mouth like it were its own universe that I’m greedy to explore. I want to believe everything Laken tells me—but I’m not sure I can.
Laken sighs as if she heard me.
And I’m sure she did.