Good Girl Gone

  My heart trips hard in my chest. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

  He squeezes me with his arm. “Don’t ever feel sorry for me,” he growls.

  “I didn’t offer you pussy because I felt sorry for you, Josh. I offered it because I thought you might make it worth trying. That’s all. I’m sorry for assuming that. You’d probably be just like all the rest.” I scoot back away from him and slide into the cool spot on the other side of the bed.

  “What are all the rest like?” he asks.

  “Like it’s just pussy on a platter.” I laugh, because that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever said.

  Josh hooks his arm around me and draws me back against him. I stay facing the wall, but he wraps himself around me and slides his arm under my head so I can use his upper arm as a pillow. I turn my head and kiss the inside of his elbow.

  “I wouldn’t,” he says.

  “Wouldn’t what?” I ask the darkness.

  “I wouldn’t treat it like pussy on a platter, Star. I’d treat it like it was something wonderful. A gift you’d give to me and a present I’d give you at the same time. I’d give it value, because that’s what it would be to me. Valuable.” He stops for a moment. “Do you understand?”

  “Not really,” I squeak.

  “Who hurt you, Star?”

  “No one,” I whisper. I turn my face into his arm and press my eyes tightly closed, trying to keep the tears from spilling over my lids.

  “Tomorrow, I need to leave early in the morning to go on the trip we talked about. Do you really want to go?”

  “You already got time off from work?”

  I can feel him nod behind me. “I texted Paul when you were sleeping.”

  “I can get ready early.”

  “You sure you want to go? It might not be a lot of fun.” His voice is hesitant.

  “I’ll go with you. I don’t have anything else to do.” I roll over to face him. “Unless you don’t want me to go.” I wait, fearing his response.

  “I don’t want to go alone,” he finally says.

  “Okay.” I scoot into my spot and wrap my arm around him. I lift the edge of his shirt and lay my palm on his side. I can feel raised spots on his skin. “What’s that?” I ask.

  “Scars,” he says.

  I touch them, letting my fingers roll over them slowly. He doesn’t shove my hand away.

  I guess some people wear their scars on the outside and some on the inside, and I just found some of his. What’ll be bad is when he finds mine.

  Josh

  It’s weird having someone in my house. Star is getting ready to go with me, and she’s in my shower. She hung a towel in front of the glass door, and she’s probably not even aware that I’m in the room now. She’s singing. The song drifts from her lips and over the shower door, and the words wrap around my heart. My heart stutters at the sheer beauty of it. Damn, she can sing.

  It’s different when she’s singing with the Fallen from Zero girls, because that’s a show. That’s her and them with lots of noise and theatrics, guitars, screaming fans, and they’re putting on a production. This…this is just her. And me. She opens her mouth and the song comes out, and it touches me to my very soul.

  “What’s that song?” I call out. I’m sitting directly outside the shower door and I can see the outline of her body through the sliver of glass that’s exposed.

  She stops singing and I see her freeze. “What?” she asks. She blows water from her lips and makes a razzberry sound.

  “What’s that song you’re singing?”

  “I didn’t realize I was singing. Sorry.”

  “Don’t stop. It was pretty. What was it?”

  “Just something Marta used to sing to us when we were younger. It’s in Spanish, and I can’t translate the whole thing.”

  “Oh.” I grin, even though she can’t see me. “I like hearing you sing. It’s lovely.”

  “Thanks,” she says.

  “So are you,” I call out. “Lovely, I mean.” I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m so stupid.

  She pulls the towel over the door and I can see her moving behind the glass, wrapping it around herself. She opens the door and smiles at me. “Thank you. You’re pretty hot, yourself.”

  I snort out a laugh. “Nice thought, but no.”

  She stops and stares down at me. She threads her fingers into my hair. “You don’t even see it, do you? All this silky dark hair, and those eyes.” She hums softly as she walks by me. “You’re hot, Josh.” She grins. “Why do you think I want to do you so bad?” She points a finger at me. “I’ve been trying to get into your pants since the moment I met you.”

  She leans close to the mirror over the sink and starts to apply her makeup. The towel wrapped around her lifts up a little, and I can see the subtle swells of her ass cheeks.

  “I can see your butt,” I say quietly. My throat suddenly feels clogged, so I cough into my fist.

  She grins at me in the mirror. “I know.”

  I shake my head, smiling, because I can’t think of any other purposeful action. It’s what’s in my heart. She makes me laugh. I roll toward her and stop directly behind her. She watches me, her eyes half closed as she stares at me in the mirror. I cup the back of her thigh and slide my hand up. She’s so soft and silky, and I have to fight with my fingertips to keep from seeking out the wet heat between her legs.

  Suddenly, she turns around and slaps my fingers. “My pussy isn’t on a platter, Josh,” she says with a cheeky grin.

  I lay my head back and groan. “Seriously?”

  My dick is hard and I’m not embarrassed by it. Not at all. I adjust the fit of my jeans and she watches my hand. “That’s all it takes, really?” She grins at me. “Just my ass?” She turns it toward me again.

  I groan. “You’re killing me.”

  She squeals when I grab her hips and pull her directly in front of me. Her ass is in my face, and I lift the edge of her towel so that I can see the bubble at the bottom of her butt. I lean forward and nibble it gently. She cries out and her butt tenses, but she doesn’t jerk away. I bite it, not hard enough to leave teeth marks behind, but I do leave a little red spot. I suck on it to ease the sting.

  “Josh,” she says, when I let her move away a little.

  “What?” I look up at her, sure my eyes are full of wonder and all the things I don’t really want her to see.

  She leans down. “You just got me really wet,” she says. Then she walks out of the bathroom, leaving me stewing in my own lust.

  I don’t know much about what happened to her when she was younger, but I know something did, and I know that sex with her isn’t going to be as easy as sex with someone else might be, but I’m willing to win my way in there. Totally willing.

  Dinner.

  Flowers.

  Dessert.

  A hotel room with just one bed.

  Me and her.

  “I need to stop by the tattoo shop after we pick up the rental car,” I tell her when I go into the bedroom.

  “Why?” she asks. She’s dressed, and now she’s brushing out her long dark hair.

  “I need to pick up my paycheck,” I tell her. Then I need to go to the drugstore. I need condoms. Just in case.

  “Anywhere else?”

  “Drugstore.”

  “Why the drugstore?”

  I shrug. “No reason.”

  She grins. “You think you’re going to get lucky.”

  I smile back. “I certainly hope so.” I force my face to sober. “You and me, Star…we’re going to happen. It’s just a matter of finding the right time.”

  “Okay,” she whispers. Then she bends over to put her shoes on. “You’ll have to tell me how it all works, with your…” Her hand waves in front of her like she’s swatting a fly. “With your stuff.”

  Now that’s funny. “You already proved my stuff works just fine.”

  “Yeah, but positions and stuff. You’ll have to tell me about all that, because I don’t know how
it would work.”

  “Neither do I,” I admit.

  “Oh,” she says. “I guess we can figure it out together.” She smiles at me, her cheeks turning red.

  Count on it, Star. Count on it.

  ***

  We go and pick up the rental car, and it takes me a minute to figure out how to drive it. I had ordered a car outfitted for paraplegics so I can hit the brake and gas using my hands rather than having to drive with my feet.

  “Do you want me to drive?” Star asks.

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  “Are you sure? That looks really difficult.”

  “It’s not.”

  Her brow furrows. “You know how to use those things?”

  “They taught me in rehab after the accident. It’s not as hard as it looks, actually.”

  The rental car company had already attached the necessary equipment and tightened it on. I let the employee take my chair and put it in the backseat, and I get myself straight in the driver’s seat.

  “Seriously, you can drive?” she asks.

  I start to accelerate slowly. “Yep.” I manage the poles using my right hand, and drive with my left. I learned to drive on a stick shift when I first started driving, so it comes natural for me.

  “That is so cool.” Her voice is soft and wistful.

  I look over at her. “So are you.”

  I pull over really quickly onto the shoulder and lean toward her face. She looks surprised for a minute, but she recovers. I press my lips to hers and she kisses me back. Her lips are warm and soft, but firm, and she tastes like breath mints. I sit back. “Cinnamon?” I ask.

  She nods. Her cheeks are red and she suddenly doesn’t know what to do with her hands. I want to hold hers in mine, twining our fingers together like they’re laced, but I can’t do that and drive, so I settle for just having her close to me.

  “I really like you, Josh,” she says quietly. She takes a deep breath like she’s fortifying herself.

  “I really like you too, Star.”

  “No, I mean it. I really like you. Lots.” She lays the back of her head against the headrest and tilts so that her face is barely turned toward me. “I don’t think I’ve ever liked anyone the way that I like you.”

  My heart skips. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m afraid,” she whispers.

  “Of me?”

  “No.” She blows out a breath. “I’m more afraid of me.”

  “Keep going,” I coax.

  “What if I can’t be what you need?” She pulls her lips in and nibbles on them.

  “What do you think I need?”

  “I think you need someone normal,” she blurts out. Then she looks like she regrets it.

  I burst out in a laugh. “Sorry.” I try to cover it up. But I can’t. I chuckle again.

  “What’s so funny?” she asks.

  I snort. “You thinking I need normal.” I shake my head. “Normal is just a setting on the dryer, Star.”

  “You sound like one of the Reeds.” But she’s grinning.

  “They do tend to rub off on you after a while.”

  We stop at the tattoo shop and I go through the hassle of getting the chair out and shifting into it, so I won’t have to ask Star to go in for me. I value my independence. Paul and Friday are there, and Friday has put together a lunch for us. I take it, not sure what to say. “You shouldn’t have.”

  She scoffs. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

  No, I mean she really shouldn’t have. Every since my accident, there are certain things I can’t eat. I’m really careful about what I put in my mouth. Otherwise, I could end up in the bathroom for the whole rest of the day, miserable. “Thank you.” I appreciate the thought.

  “Paul put some things in here, too,” she tells me. She rolls her eyes. “You know how he is.”

  “What kind of things?”

  She laughs. “Check it later, okay?”

  I take the little cooler from her, get my paycheck, and tell them goodbye. On my way out the door, the curiosity is killing me. I unzip the small pouch on the front of the cooler, and I see condoms. Lots of condoms. Various sizes and flavors. Lubed. Not lubed. Ribbed. God, I didn’t even know they came in so many varieties. I shake my head.

  Paul opens the door a crack and yells, “Be careful!” Then he laughs and goes back inside.

  There’s one thing I do have to say: Paul cares. He cares a lot. I kind of like belonging to a family. Now, I just have to go back home and face my own. That’s not going to be a pleasant experience.

  Star has her feet up on the dash when I go back out to the car. She doesn’t offer to help stow my chair, which I kind of like. It’s a hassle, but I’d rather do it myself. She’s reading a book on her e-reader. She looks up at me and smiles. “All ready?”

  “Yep.” I bus her cheek with a quick kiss. She covers it with her fingertips and looks at me, her brown eyes warm. “Do we need to go by the drugstore?”

  I hold up the cooler bag. “Paul and Friday gave us enough condoms to last a year.”

  Her brow shoots up. “Seriously?” She takes the bag from me and starts to rummage in it. “Banana. Cherry.” She holds one packet up. “Oh, this one is supposed to be bumpy.”

  “I’ll let you choose.”

  She gets quiet.

  “You know, Star, that I don’t have any expectations about this weekend, right?”

  She nods. “I know.” Then she smiles. “I have enough expectations for the both of us.”

  I laugh and put the car in gear. And we spend the next few hours talking and listening to music. I even get her to sing for me a few times. Star is fun and kind and pretty…and she’s not with me because we’re having a mad, passionate affair. She’s with me because she doesn’t have anywhere else she wants to be. I need to remember that.

  Star

  Josh gets really quiet when we get to his hometown. His free hand clutches the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turn white.

  “Are you all right?” I ask.

  He blows out a harsh breath. “I never thought I would ever come back here.”

  “Your family is here, right?”

  He nods. “Yeah.” It’s more of a sigh than a word.

  “Tell me about them.” I want to learn all about him.

  “My parents live here, but I don’t see them.” He bites his lips together.

  “Why not?”

  “They don’t want to see me, not after what happened.” His voice is so soft I can barely hear it.

  “What happened?” I remember him telling me about his dream. “Was the dream real?”

  He nods and my gut twists.

  “Oh, no,” I breathe. I lay a hand over my mouth.

  “It was after a party,” he says quietly. I reach over and turn off the radio. “My buddy was supposed to be the DD. But at the end of the night, I was the most sober one in our group.” He looks at me, and I can see a storm in his eyes. “I volunteered to drive. I thought it would be all right.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “No,” he admits. “It wasn’t. My buddy and his girlfriend died. My girlfriend was thrown from the car, and so was I.”

  “That’s how you were injured?”

  “Yeah.”

  He’s quiet.

  “Your girlfriend survived?”

  “Yeah.” He grimaces.

  “What?”

  “She suffered a traumatic brain injury. She’s motor-challenged and she lost a lot of cognitive function. And she’ll be that way for the rest of her life.”

  He takes a deep breath.

  “My parents kicked me out after it happened. They were worried about what people would think. They sent me to live with my grandmother in New York. That’s where I got messed up in some crazy shit. I met some people, started experimenting with some drugs, joined a gang. It didn’t turn out well.”

  “Where are your parents now?”

  He pulls the car over to the side of the road. “They live here.?
??

  I look up at a huge house with a sprawling yard. It’s almost palatial, and it’s in an apparently nice district.

  I gasp. “Here? This is where you grew up?”

  He laughs. “Surprised?”

  I don’t know what to say. I assumed he had always been poor. He was in a gang, for Christ’s sake. “A little,” I squeak.

  “I didn’t go to jail for the accident. Technically, I killed someone when I drove drunk. I should have been locked up, but my parents had money and they thought they could buy my way out of it.”

  “If they bought your way out of it, why did they send you to live with your grandmother?”

  “Lilly woke up.” He takes a deep breath and his chest bellows with air. “She was in a coma for months. They worked on my legal issues while she was asleep. Then she woke up and it was obvious she was never going to be the same, and they couldn’t live with the shame of it. My buddy and his girlfriend, they were from poor families, so they were of no consequence to them. But Lilly…they had to face her parents every day. When my parents found out she would never go back to being the perky cheerleader they once had hopes of getting as a daughter-in-law, they sent me away. Their private shame went to live with his grandmother, instead of staying with them.”

  He holds up his hand when I open my mouth to protest.

  “It’s okay. It was for the best. I couldn’t look at Lilly every day knowing what I did to her.”

  “So that…that was her mother who called you?”

  He nods. “She says Lilly wants to see me.” He taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “And that’s why we’re here.”

  “Do you want to see your parents while you’re here?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “No. I’m here for Lilly. Nothing else. I don’t want my parents’ money. I don’t need their blessing. I just need to see if she’s truly all right.”

  “Okay,” I say slowly, dragging the word out. I don’t know what to say.

  “I don’t know what Lilly remembers. She may not remember anything. Or she may remember everything. I need to find out. I need to find out if there’s anything I can do to make her life better.” He looks into my eyes. “I owe her that.”