Secondary Colors (12 page)

I’m not really in the mood for small talk.

“Aidan,” I unintentionally whisper, “what were you going to say before we ran into Makayla and Holt?”

His face contorts with thought.

“I’ve never had illusions about my family being perfect. But the night before I left, I found out how imperfect we really are. I caught my dad screwing a woman in my parents’ bed during my going away party. And before you ask, I never saw who she was. I knew it wasn’t my mom because she was downstairs. I never confronted him about it. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I ran.”

I place my hand on his bicep, rubbing it in a supportive gesture. “I couldn’t imagine going through that.”

“Yeah.”

“Aidan, that was the night we—” Why does the word sex suddenly make me so nervous? “Was it before or after you found them?”

His blue eyes drop, averting from mine.

“After.”

“Hey.” I rub his shoulder. “I don’t want to ruin a perfectly good night. Let’s talk about something else, yeah?”

It isn’t only his sadness that makes me want to change the subject. One, I don’t want to relive it right now. Two, I have things to tell him about that night, and I’m not prepared to rehash the memories yet.

He drives me home around midnight, before I morph into a pumpkin again, and sees me to the door. I thank him for our date and wait for a goodnight kiss, our first kiss. Things have been tame. Now, I’ll know if the spark is real or a remnant of the past.

“Thank you for allowing me to take you out.”

He moves in. I close my eyes and tip my lips to meet his. They burst open again when he kisses my forehead. He turns and starts back to his truck, waiting to get in until I’m safe inside. I wave him off and then shut the door, confused as hell by his less than romantic peck. I rest my forehead against the cold glass with a sigh.

“That wasn’t very satisfying,” Holt’s pleased voice taunts from above.

Bracing for his snide attack, I turn around to face him. With the wall of pictures beside him, a timeline of my life from birth to adulthood, he sits on the steps of my teen years.

“You have no right to be like this,” I tell him. “What did I do for this sudden change in your attitude toward me?”

“God, for being so perceptive, you sure are fucking blind.”

He stands and scales the last few steps, into my twenties, and disappears around the corner. Annoyed, I storm into my bedroom, making sure to shut my door good and hard. I want it to vibrate up his spine.

I growl and throw my purse onto my bed before collapsing beside it.

Why is he so hot and cold?

One second, we’re friends. The next, he can’t stand the sight of me.

Like a herd of stampeding bulls, it hits me. The dock, the carnival, the date tonight. He only gets upset when Aidan’s around. Why does he dislike Aid? He doesn’t know him.

Well, if he doesn’t like my friends, he doesn’t need to be around me either. I don’t need this bipolar friendship. I’m finished, donzo! I mentally dust my hands of him. Makayla can have him.

Makayla
.

At least I have a reason to dislike his choice in company, but Aidan is a nice guy. He hasn’t done anything to warrant hatred from Holt.

Who does he think he is?

I jump off my bed and stomp toward the door, determined to serve Holt a big fat helping of my mind. I’m almost out the door before I have it open all the way, bumping into an unmovable mass. I stumble back and reach out for the first object my hand finds, catching something sturdy. When I’ve steadied myself, I realize it’s gripping his bicep. His hand is on my back, which isn’t helping me stay mad at him. I want to be mad at him. He deserves it. But his hand is firm, and his eyes are soft.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

I’m stunned by Holt’s swing in mood—yet again. I actually forget I was coming up to give him a good talking to.

“It’s not what you said. It’s what you did, how you behaved. Why do you hate Aidan? What did he do to you?”

“Maybe it’s his frat boy attire. I think I’m allergic to pastel colored polo shirts.”

“You’re a jerk,” I giggle, trying to stay upset with him. The smile fades from his eyes. They search mine, deeply and carefully.

He steps away and crosses his arms, “I’ve been called a lot worse,” leaning against the doorframe. “What do you see in him anyway? You two don’t exactly mix well together.”

“We mix fine.”

“Like oil and water.”

“What do you care who I choose to mix with anyway?”

“I don’t. It’s an observation.”

“Did you have a purpose for coming down here? Other than insult and piss me off further? Because the God’s honest truth of it is, I don’t give a flying monkey’s butt what you think of the company I keep.”

I’m about to slam the door in his face when he stops me, his expression softening.

“You’re right. I’m a jerk. I come to apologize to you, and I make it worse. That wasn’t cool of me. I’ve been in a shitty mood lately.”

“Everyone has moments.” I smile to let him know all is well. He reflects the smile back at me.

“Alright, I’ve got an early day tomorrow. I should hit the sack.”

“Me, too.”

“Night, Violet.”

“Night, Holt.”

I shut my door once he walks away, slip into bed, and think about him until my eyelids turn to lead and my eyeballs sting.

The following morning, I cross the hall into the kitchen to make breakfast and coffee. Holt’s already there, drinking a cup while he leans against the sink, his browned skin slick with perspiration. Max, always at his feet, pants heavily. He must’ve taken his dog for a run—or the other way around.

We exchange awkward smiles when he notices me pouring a mug to go. Neither of us says anything, which is fine and freakin’ dandy by me. No need to fill the silence with forced conversation. It won’t change the night before. It may actually make things worse.

I grab a banana for breakfast and nod to him on my way out.

He does the same.

I’m gone.

two completely opposite hues when

placed together, intensify the other

It’s been two weeks since my date with Aidan and my incident with Holt. But things have really changed since that night. Step by step, I develop a level of comfort with him being around. I even anticipate our time together. Even if I’m helping him mend a fence or work in the garden, I enjoy myself. I’m happier when I’m around him. We discuss books, art, music, philosophies on life, and politics. No matter what we’re talking about or doing, it’s never boring.

When I’m not working, I make lunch, and we eat in the shadows of a large tree, Max lounging in the grass a few feet away. I feed him (the dog, not the man) bits of whatever I’ve made that day, so I think I’m growing on him. At night, we hang out and watch movies or read or talk.

Today, the whole town will be at the house for a huge Fourth of July barbeque, with a firework show planned for later. Mom and I spend the morning preparing food and hanging decorations inside the house while Holt takes care of the outside, stringing lights, scrubbing the grill, and setting up chairs and tiki torches.

When I’m done helping, I shower and put on the new dress I bought it specifically for this occasion. It’s a beautiful white cotton dress with thin shoulder straps and a flowing, knee-length skirt. As I glance it over in the mirror, I wonder if Holt will like it.

I mean Aidan.

What is going on with me?

Guests begin to arrive by four, big platters of food in hand, adorned in red, white, or blue. Before we know it, the house and property is brimming with people. I’m chatting with some in the backyard when Taylor and Aidan show up.

“You look beautiful, Evie,” she exclaims, draped in red, and brings me in for a tight squeeze.

“You really do,” Aidan agrees.

I step into him with a rose stain tinting my cheeks and wrap my arms about his waist. He does the same, linking them about my upper back.

“Aren’t you a cute little pair,” Taylor teases, a playfulness on her lips until her eyes target on something near the house. “Oh, shit.”

Over my shoulder, I spot Makayla on the porch, her head oscillating from side to side, searching the crowd for someone. When it stops, I follow her gaze to Holt. He seems oblivious to her presence until she scurries up behind him, tapping his shoulder. She kisses him on the cheek, pressing herself into him, and then mutters a few soft words into his ear.

Suddenly, his eyes locate mine. They’re almost apologetic.

“What is
she
doing here?” Taylor gives her the nastiest leer.

“Holt must’ve invited her.”

I shrug, trying to hide my upset.

“Let’s get a burger,” Aidan suggests, directing me to the grill with a persuading arm hung around my neck. Something lures my attention behind me, and I oblige, finding Holt’s watchful eyes on me—fixedly.

After the burger, I excuse myself, Taylor following close behind. We escape into my room, hiding from the overzealous guests and stifling weather. While I’m tinkling, she sits on my bed, restlessly moving around, the springs of my mattress groaning with the slightest shift in weight.

“Your room always brings back memories.” The bed squeaks, and the soft clatter of objects being picked up and set back down comes from my room. She’s probably browsing through the knick-knacks and pictures we collected throughout our friendship. “Does it feel like a lifetime since we hung out in here for hours on end?”

“It
has
been a lifetime.”

“Yeah,” she concurs in a far off voice. I don’t need to see her eyes to know there’s a contemplative, maybe slightly heartbroken haze over them. Her mood changes on a dime. “So, what’s going on with Holt?”

Like the lake during a blizzard, I freeze, my stream halting as I tense up.

“What about him?”

“Bringing Makayla to your party.”

“It’s a free country.”

I flush the toilet and wash my hands, wiping them off on the towel hanging on the wall.

“I’d be royally p.o.’d if he invited my mortal enemy to my party, but that’s me.”

“I-I really don’t care,” I insist, my voice cracking.

The random clatter stops, and she appears in the doorway, her mouth agape, eyes large with stunned clarity.

“You like him,” she states.

“Are you crazy?” I laugh at the idea. “I hardly know him.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t be attracted to him, too.”

“We’re friends. We enjoy spending time together. I wasn’t sure about him at first, but there’s more to him than first impressions allow you to see.”

Her forehead crinkles. “Uh-huh. Yeah. No. You don’t like him at all.”

“Not as more than someone to talk to or whatever.”

“And Aidan?”

“Does it matter? I’m leaving at the end of summer.” I face her and sit-lean on the lip of the sink. “It took me years to get over what happened between Aidan and me. If anything occurs again, I’m going into it with my eyes open and my heart shut.”

She has that look again, the one of pity and sadness. Tay knows what I went through with him and his mother. She knows love and all things associated with it don’t come easily to me. Aidan was the only boy I put my guard down for, but it exploded in my face. Maybe circumstances would’ve been different if I’d known he’d stayed away because of his family and not me. But the past is etched in granite. You only have today.

“Speaking of guys, what’s going on with that guy you were seeing before we left?”

“He’s okay,” she says limply, “nothing to lose your dignity over or anything. Not like your man over there.”

I gaze out the double doors at Holt with my mother and his date, laughing over something utterly witty he said, I’m sure.

“I told you I have no interest in Holt.”

She smiles sadly at me. “Let’s get back to the party before we miss the fireworks.”

After the sun sets and everyone’s socialized, drinks in hand, my mom announces the fireworks will be starting any minute. Guests flood the backyard, facing the water in unison. When the first blast of light erupts in the air with a thunderous bang and crackle, eyes drift skyward. Brilliant bursts of red, gold, blue, purple, and green clutter the atmosphere above the lake, reflecting off its calm surface.

It sounds like a damn war zone.

I’ve never been fond of loud noises, vibrating through my body with each deafening boom, making my spine clench up. But they’re so breathtaking, I manage my way through it.

As I’m admiring the show, a hand clasps mine and yanks me away from my place next to Aidan. Since every light on the property is turned off, I only catch peeks of the person quickly yanking me along until a nearly blinding firework explodes, turning night to day for the briefest moment.

It’s Holt.

He’s leading me toward the thick line of trees at the edge of the backyard, immersing us in its shield of darkness.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer. “What are we doing here?”

We tread deeper into the woods, moving swiftly over the uneven ground. Without warning, he turns around and presses me against the rough trunk of a tree, trapping me in place. My eyes train on his mouth, parted and tempting. At this closeness, I see it clearer. It’s turned up at the corners, with a sharp Cupid’s bow and a pouty bottom lip. It was made for kissing.

“Why have you brought me out here, Holt?”

“I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“For what?”

He inches nearer. My breasts flatten against his hard chest.

“This.”

He fuses his mouth with mine, desperate and hungry. His tongue slinks between my lips, tasting me with a hunger that’s almost cannibalistic, as if he wants to demolish me. His hands explore my thighs, raising the hem of my dress higher than appropriate. He lifts me up, jamming me hard into the abrasive bark of the trunk, and continues to assault my mouth with his.

My mind spins like a Tilt-A-Whirl. My stomach on a roller coaster ride, rising and dropping. My heart beats a hundred miles a minute from the adrenaline.

Unable to breathe, like water’s filling my lungs, I slope my head back against the tree, gasping for oxygen to gratify my blazing lungs. His lips find my neck, kissing it down to the sensitive line of my collarbone and over the fleshly mound of my breasts.

He stops there, breathing as if he ran a marathon. His face presses against the damp skin, the stubble of his cheeks rubbing until it stings from the friction. I hadn’t realized in the chaos of his lips and hands, mine had made their ascent into his hair.

Carefully, he sets me back down on unstable legs, jerking away with his eyes down. His fingers slide under my dress strap, flaccidly hanging from my shoulder. His knuckles sweep the skin of my arm shifting it back into place.

Unsure if it’s the festivities or my imagination, a continuous barrage of thunder and light echo through the trees, covering the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.

Once my body’s chemistry steadies, I gather what remains of my wits and stare into his eyes, now on me.

“I tried to stop myself,” he answers the unspoken question in my probing gaze, crowding me with his body, his lips barely touching mine, “but deep down, I didn’t want to.”

Off in the distance, my name pierces the forest line, “Evie?”

Aidan.

Hearing him call out to me, brings me back to reality.

“I need to get back to the party.” I comb my fingers through my hair and try to put myself back together on the inside.

“You mean your boyfriend.” He steps away from me with a large stride.

“Yeah,” I mumble, turning my back to him. “I guess you have to get back to your date as well.”

As I take that first strangely bitter step away, he says, “I didn’t invite her.”

“Evie?” Aidan calls out again, his voice closer and more urgent. I know he has feelings for me, feelings I recently found out go back a long time. I couldn’t hurt Aid by letting him come across us, even if he stakes no claim over me.

“Coming!” I holler and march toward him over fallen branches and rocks, leaving Holt in the dark. Oddly, the closer I progress to the lights of the party through the leaves, the further I distance myself from Holt, the darker it seems to get.