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Kendall
Twenty minutes later, I’ve almost wrapped my head around the conversation with my sisters. “Sometimes things happen for a reason,” I say to the framed picture of my aunt and me on my nightstand just before the doorbell chimes. I double-check the condoms are in my handbag then hurry downstairs. Stopping in the entryway, I tell Snow to chill before I smooth my hands over my hair, catch my breath, and steel myself against the visual orgasm that is Vaughn Shaughnessy.
When I open the door, though, the mental cold shower fails. He is so much hotter in person. Snow obviously agrees, because I swear the excited noise she’s making sounds like a purr.
“Wow,” he says, raking his eyes over my sundress. His gaze lingers on the keyhole at my chest. It’s a rather large keyhole. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he fires back. “You look amazing. Ready to go?”
“Yes, thanks. You look amazing, too.” And effortlessly gorgeous from every angle. I close the door behind me.
It takes only a few minutes to arrive at our destination, a cute restaurant just off the beaten path. The hostess greets Vaughn like he’s a regular and leads us to a table. As usual, his nearness clouds my head. My pulse races.
The room is dimly lit and decorated in rich, dark colors. Our small corner table with a bench seat is semi-private. I sink into the pillows at my back as I look over my menu. When the waiter stops to take our order, we both ask for steaks, his with fries, mine with a baked potato.
As the waiter retreats, Vaughn turns to me. “So, you’re a virgin.”
I almost choke on a swallow of water. “’Fraid so,” I manage, and set the glass down.
“Virginity pledge?”
“No.” It’s so far off base I actually smile. “Is this your idea of interesting dinner conversation?”
He’s utterly complacent as he shrugs. “I’m interested. Very interested. Religious reasons?”
I shake my head. “No again.”
“Just haven’t met the right guy?”
My smile wilts. We’ve reached a conversational cliff. The next step is going to be a doozy. I tip my head to the side and look him in the eye. “You sure you want to know?”
He takes my hand. “I’m sure. You can tell me anything, Kendall. You can trust me.” Then his expression kind of freezes, and his fingers squeeze mine. “Shit. I’m a dumbass. Somebody hurt you.”
Once again, his concern makes me feel like a fraud, but this time I have to speak up instead of running away. “No. Nothing like that. I hurt somebody.” My chin trembles, and there’s a painful clog in my throat, so instead of elaborating, I pinch my lips together and wipe the corner of my eye with my free hand.
“Tell me,” he whispers.
I’m not sure if it’s a question or a request, but the patient words push us closer to the point of no return. Even though I’m terrified he won’t be there when I land, it’s a risk I’m ready to take. If I keep holding Vaughn at arm’s length he’ll definitely back off. There was a time I never shied away from people, and I miss that girl. If I tell him the truth he’ll either think I’m an awful person and this will be the last time I see him, or…
He’ll understand.
“I was seventeen when I got a DUI,” I say quietly.
His breath hitches before his hold on my hand tightens. The gesture gives me the courage to continue before I lose my nerve.
“It was after prom. My boyfriend, Mason, and I were both drunk—everybody was, not just us, and maybe that made it harder for us to realize how wasted we were. We never should’ve gotten in his car, but we’d made these big, romantic plans to spend the night at a hotel and finally, you know”—I clear my throat—“commit to each other in the one way we’d been saving.”
“But it never happened.”
He’s falling with me now, and I’m sorry for it, but there’s no way to shortcut the distance or soften the impact. We’re going to go all the way down, we’re going to hit hard, and afterward, things won’t be the same. “I can still feel the vibrations moving up my arms and through my body as I tried to handle the steering wheel, tried to keep control of his truck so it wouldn’t spin out. I’d taken a curve in the road too fast, distracted by Mason’s hands on my body and his voice in my ear urging me to go faster. I was too drunk to question my actions. The radio was blasting, the big V-6 engine roaring, and yet I heard this strange silence between my mind whispering Oh shit, and Mason yelling ‘Look out!’ Sometimes when I close my eyes I can recapture the sickening weightless sensation just before we plowed into a tree, but the moment of impact remains a blackout.” My breathing seesaws as guilt and pain lance through my chest. “All I remember is a rain of sticky glass particles pelting my face.”
“Jesus,” Vaughn says so softly I barely hear it. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and brings me closer, turning his body so it forms a barrier between me and the rest of the restaurant. Not just to comfort me, I realize, but to shield me from the curious stares of other diners. He thinks he knows where this fall from grace ends, and he’s gallantly trying to protect me. He doesn’t know, but I’m beyond grateful for his attempt. It puts him in a small, trusted circle. My parents protect me. Brit protects me. But most of the people Mason and I grew up with judged me—some silently, some loudly, almost all without a shred of mercy. I could never go through that again. It’s one of the reasons I don’t go home often or stay more than a few days.
I guess I’ve been silent for too long because Vaughn whispers, “Mason?”
“He didn’t have his seatbelt on and went through the windshield.” A tear trickles down my face. Vaughn gently wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.
