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“After my parents kicked me out, I came here,” I say, fondly looking around. I’ve only lived here for three years, but this has been more of a home for me than my other one ever was.
The environment my parents cultivated behind their four walls was more than toxic; it was downright deadly. My father, the beloved pastor of the Lutheran church, ruled that house with an iron fist. They placed rules upon rules on me, their only child, for years. No one ever knew the moment he stepped into the church, a firm mask fell into place. He became the man he thought the world wanted to see. Father of the year, if I say so myself. The moment I could escape, I did.
“Why’d they kick you out?” she asks, brows furrowing in concern. Her fingers work up my arm, eventually stopping to massage my shoulder. I lean into her touch, taking comfort in her.
“They’re assholes,” I say with a big breath. “I got some tats, and they didn’t approve, so I moved in here with my boy Callum.”
“My parents invited him to stay after they did-did that,” Callum whispers, peeking at us. “They were the best. They really liked him.”
“How?” River laughs. “Seriously? They liked him?” My mouth opens at her insult, and she giggles, making Callum’s face light up.
“Somehow,” he quips, “but yeah, they did. He lived here with us when….” My heart falls into my ass when the ghosts of his past, grab hold of him, but before I can do anything, River’s on him with a giant hug.
“You don’t have to say it,” she murmurs into his chest, rubbing her hands up and down his back. Relaxing in her hold, he puts his cheek on the top of her head, sighing with contentment. Every worry leaks out of him with her in his arms.
Shock takes me over at her words. My jaw hits the ground. He fucking told her the tragic story of his parents and sister. Callum doesn’t tell anyone what happened, instead keeping it bottled up and reliving it every day in his genius mind. I never thought I’d see the day when he opened up to someone besides us. River’s done the fucking unthinkable and grabbed his attention.
He whispers something in her ears until she pulls away, staying at arm’s length. His fingers run through her hair, curling it behind her ear. Love emanates from his gray eyes, pouring out to her. It would break his fucking heart if we had to leave her behind in this shit town. And we won’t.
River West is ours to keep.
Leaning down, Callum tentatively presses his lips into hers with uncertainty. Tangling her fingers in his blonde locks, she holds him there until their tongues dance together, and they’re left breathless. Callum groans into her mouth when his shaky hands find her ass, and he squeezes it, pulling her closer.
“All right,” I say, wrapping my arms around the both of them as they pull away from each other with swollen lips, eyeing me like I’m up to something. “I’m feeling a little left out of the fun. Let’s teach our boy some tongue tricks.”
Callum sucks in a breath. A blush takes over his entire head, turning him into a strawberry. I expect River to give me sass, but that cute smile she loves to toss around crosses her lips. She shrugs, getting to her tippy toes. Her soft lips kiss the edge of his, trailing down his neck. He groans, running both hands through her hair and holding her there.
“You-you don’t have to,” Callum stutters through the tremors shaking his body. “I…” He loses himself in the feel of her fingers roaming over his chest, slowly guiding down to the bulge growing in his jeans. She squeezes him, earning a full-blown moan from him.
That’s right, Callum. Let loose. Let our River guide you into a den of sin.
“So, shall we go?” I say, wiggling my eyebrows, and gesture to the bedroom.
“Lead the way,” River rasps, holding out her hand.
We stare at Callum, waiting for him to decide. Because ultimately, it’s up to him whether he wants to participate.
“You—you’ll teach me?” he asks softly, refusing to look at her.
“I’m fine with it,” River proclaims with a shrug. “You, him, and me? Hell, yes.”
And that’s all Callum needs. With as much confidence as he can muster, he grabs her arm and leads her to my bedroom down the hallway. Dare I say there’s a little pep in his horny step and pride swelling his chest.
“Well, this should be fun!” I whoop, ripping off my shirt and tossing it on the couch when I pass, heading down the hallway.
"Andeighthundred,"Radsing-songs, placing the last twenty-dollar bill onto the white sheet.
Stepping back, he nods a few times, fixing a few bills until they're straight. His arms are wide, showing off his newest masterpiece with pride, just like he promised—a bed full of money ready to roll around on.
"Was that really necessary? Like…you seriously want to screw on money?" I raise a brow, grasping for his logic, but come back empty-handed.
Rad doesn't seem to have a lot of logic to his actions, but I can't fault him for that. Secretly, I like him just the way he is—weirdo tendencies and all. In my eyes, he will always be the kind-hearted hero who scooped my broken body off the darkened lawn.
He turns his energetic smile toward me and winks. Warmth fills my chest at how he smiles, looking at me like I'm already the light of his life, and he can't wait to get boned on a pile of money.
"You christened my bike. Now, you have to christen my money. For good luck!" he proclaims, tossing a fist in the air and doing an odd dance by twirling in a circle and whooping.
I groan, wrinkling my nose. "You know, that money could have been in some dude's ass last night after he stripped and his sweaty balls got stuck to it," I quip, raising a brow when his face brightens even more, and he laughs.
