Now, we’re sitting on the dock, alone, for some much-deserved peace and quiet. I’m lying on my back and she’s resting on her elbow, leaning over me. She strokes my jaw, pouts down at me, waits for my anger to fade. That kid Evan from her work has been texting her, asking what’s up. Last night, I went to pick her up and he was in my booth with her.
“You’re being ridiculous, Luke!”
“Just tell me how far you guys went and I’ll stop,” I grumble, arms crossed.
Smiling, she says, “Trying not to laugh when you’re like this is like trying to keep it together when a toddler yells, ‘Fuck’ in the middle of a busy store.”
Next to us, our textbooks sit, open but forgotten. “It’s not funny, Lane.” I gently push her hand away. “You’re so secretive about it all. I don’t like Secretive Laney!”
After a sigh, she settles her head on my shoulder. “We didn’t even kiss, and just so you know, I hadn’t done anything but kiss with any other guy before you.”
“Not even a handy?”
“Oh my God.” She giggles. “No.”
“Dad’s coming home tonight, so maybe I can have one of those,” I try to joke.
She sits up again, looks down at me. “Not if you keep talking about guys touching me.”
“I didn’t say anything about guys touching you. I said you touching them! Did he touch you? I’ll kill ’em dead, babe.”
“Luke, stop.”
“Did they? Just a little tit tap?”
“Enough!”
I almost ask her about how far she went with Cooper, but I already know the answer and it’s making me want to jump in the lake and drown myself.
“Are you hungry?” she asks. “You always get cranky when you’re hungry.”
I cross my arms again. “A little,” I admit, then tug on her shirt for her to lie down with me again. She’s closer now, her arm and leg over me, her fingers tapping on my chest. I shift her so she’s on top of me, my legs spread, hers between them.
She says, her forearms on my chest and her fingertips stroking my jaw, “Do you know how many times I dreamed about this?”
“About what?”
“Laying here with you. This close. Having you touch me the way you are, being able to look at you and not fear getting caught.” She dips her head, kisses me once. “Being able to kiss you.”
“Same,” I admit. “Sometimes I’d see Cam and Luce out here and imagine it was us.”
Her lips twitch, curve up at the corners. “Really?”
I nod. “Really.” Then I look around, make sure we’re alone. “You want to fool around a little?”
Her eyes roll, but her smile spreads. “I guess.”
Making out with Laney is equivalent to having sex with any other girl. Swear it. I’m hard before her mouth meets mine and I wish we weren’t out here, in the open, because I know we’re not getting much further but the kissing alone drives us both insane. She moves to straddle me, her hips jerking back and forth, rubbing against me in all the right ways. She whispers my name, her mouth still on mine, and I reach up the front of her shirt and cup her breasts. Her movements change, thrusting and grinding, and I decide here and now to make her come because I’ve been craving those sounds. She bites down on my lip, and I know she’s close so I grab her ass, lift my hips higher so—“Are you sexing?” Lachlan shouts, and Lane rolls off me so fast she almost falls off the dock and into the water.
I sit up, scan our surroundings, and see Lachlan hiding behind a tree. “What the hell are you doing?” I shout, my cock aching in my jeans. “You know you’re not allowed to be this close to the lake on your own! Who’s meant to be watching you?”
He breaks out in a giggle and Laney’s on her feet, picking up our books.
I don’t get up yet, not really ready to have the conversation with Lachlan about what the bulge is in the front of my pants.
“Who’s watching you, bud?” Lane coos.
Girls have it easy. They can be turned on, come in their pants and no one knows. I’ve got the Leaning Tower of Pisa poking my zipper.
Lachy walks toward us, a bunch of sticks in his hand. “Linc and Liam,” he tells us.
“Well, where the fuck are they?” I snap.
Lane gasps. “Luke!”
Lachy laughs. “Luke said fuck.”
“Don’t say that word, buddy,” Lane tells him.
I adjust myself and get up, hoping it’s not too obvious. “We’re not done,” I tell Lane, walking past her to get to Lachlan. “Where are they?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “In the house.”
“And you just left?”
“They’re fighting. Linc’s got a baseball bat and he’s shouting at Liam.”
I take his hand. “Come on.”
We hear Linc yelling before we get to the inner fence. “Tell me!” he shouts, “I’ll kill ’em.”
I meet Lane’s panicked eyes and we dash for the house, Lachlan in tow.
Linc’s pacing the living room, baseball bat over his shoulder while Liam… “Holy shit. What happened?” I sit on the couch next to him. There’s blood on his lip, a gash above his eye. His elbows are grazed, his glasses crooked. I glare up at Linc. “What did you do?”
“It wasn’t me!” he shouts.
Lane’s on the other side of Liam now, her touch gentle as she checks over his face. “Are you okay?”
Liam presses his lips tight, shaking his head and refusing to answer.
My heart pounds, fear choking me.
“Tell me!” Linc yells.
“What the hell happened?” I boom, hearing Dad in my tone.
Linc stops pacing just long enough to say, “I had detention after school and Liam had to get Lachlan and I came home and he was like this.”
“It happened before I got Lachlan,” Liam croaks, his words rushed, his eyes darting between Lane and me. “Lachlan didn’t see anything. I swear.”
“It’s okay,” Laney says, hugging him to her.
I inhale deeply, exhale slowly, try to think of the right thing to do.
“Was it Benny and his boys?” Linc yells. “Swear, I’m going to kill them all.”
“Stop it!” Liam cries.
Laney holds him tighter.
“That Benny Watson kid?” I ask.
Linc nods. “He called Liam a fag at school today.”
“I’m not a fag!”
Linc sighs, his tone calmer when he says. “I know you’re not, but even if you are, who cares.” This is the dynamic of the twins. Even though they both get bullied, Liam has it worse because of his glasses and braces, and no matter how many times I tell him it’ll pass—that I’ve been there—he gets defensive and Lincoln gets angry, set on war.
“Did Benny do this?” I ask, tone clipped. Watching your little brother break down and not being able to do anything about it is fucking crushing. Liam’s sobs fill the room and Lincoln looks to me for answers—answers I don’t have.
“I’m going to kill him,” Linc grinds out.
“No, you won’t,” I snap. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Don’t tell Dad,” Liam cries.
I say, “I think we have to, dude.”
“You know what I think?” Laney says. She rears back, holds Liam’s face in her hands. “I think you look a lot like Luke when he was your age. Glasses, braces, everything. And I crushed so hard on him back then. You’re so handsome, and you’re just going to get better looking as the years go on.” She glances at me, and I smile. I can’t help it. “Screw those guys, Liam. They’re just jealous of how great you are.”
Liam sniffs. “You know what would make me feel better?” he mumbles.
“What?” she asks.
Then he moves in and fucking kisses her. And I’m not talking a peck on the lips, I’m talking full make out, sloppy twelve-year-old tongue and everything. Lane’s eyes widen, but then she laughs, his mouth covering hers and she lets him go on… until he grabs her boob, and I’ve had enough. I pull him away by his shirt while silent shock fills the room. Then Liam chuckles and Linc bursts out laughing. Liam gets up and his twin follows after him. They cackle all the way to the back door. “I can’t believe you did that!” Linc says.
Liam laughs.
“What do her boobs feel like?” Linc asks.
I groan.
“Like melons?” he pushes.
Liam laughs harder as he opens the back door. “Like peaches!”
I look over at Lane, raise an eyebrow. “What the hell was that?”
She shrugs, giggles. “At least he’s better now,” she says, straightening her clothes. “You did good, Luke.” Then she moves toward me, her lips puckered, and my nose scrunches, disgusted.
“Can you, like, gargle some mouthwash? I can’t kiss you when you’ve got traces of my brother in your mouth.”
She laughs but complies, and I sit on the couch and stare at the ceiling, wondering how the hell I’m going to handle this. She returns, her smile from ear-to-ear, and sits across my lap. “This good?” She kisses me, her minty lips reminding me of what we started. I adjust us so we’re lying on the couch, on our sides, and I return her kiss with more passion, more power. And I realize that her baggage might be her exes, but mine is my family. Hers are gone, but mine is forever. “Thank you,” I tell her between kisses.