So that’s what I’m picturing.
My dick. Exiting her pussy.
I blink and blink to get that shit out of my head. Strolling up to the window, I rap my fist on the glass.
Sulli rolls it down, and I rest my arm on the sill, eyeing the bag of snacks she just bought. All sweets. Her dietary habits lie solely at the top of the food pyramid. With her hand halfway in the gummy bag, she says, “Hey.”
“Hey,” I smile, trying to ease back in her good graces.
She bites a gummy. “What do you want, Kits?”
“Just to talk, say hey.”
I can’t help but see a faint look of disappointment cross her face. Like I’m not giving her enough, but I can’t be…we can’t be…
A breath catches in my lungs, and I exhale and nod to the gummy worm she’s eating. “What flavor is that?”
“Cherry.”
I picture her on a bed. For a split-second. I picture Sulli on a fucking bed. Legs spread. Her cherry—it’s just my brain. Means nothing.
“Taste good?” I wonder.
She shrugs. “The green ones are better.” She tears one with her teeth. Sulli is tender-hearted, but with a single, serrated slice, she will cut out anyone from her life that hurts her. She cut out her ex-boyfriend without second thought.
She cut out Beckett, her best friend.
But she hasn’t cut me yet.
“Green ones taste like lime?” I wonder.
“Yep.”
I lean more into the window. Teasingly, I smile, “Where’s my gummy worm?”
She rips off another piece with her teeth. “Between your legs.”
Banks laughs hard, climbing in the driver’s seat.
I shoot him a middle finger.
Sulli twirls the gummy. “Only totally hot babes know what that worm tastes like.”
“Where’s the lie?” I tease, then I slyly and quickly reach for the gummy worms through the window, stealing the bag.
Sulli smiles, “Kits!” She tears the bag out of my grip. Gummy worms go flying, but I grab a few out of the air.
“Thanks for these.” I slide into the passenger’s seat.
“Asshole!” she shouts, kicking the back of my seat.
I turn around, staring at her while I eat a green gummy worm. “Mmmhh.”
She tries hard not to smile. “Fuck you.”
I mime grabbing the fuck you out of the air and swallowing it.
Her humor fades pretty fast. Too fast, and I watch as she concentrates on the scenery out the window over our interaction.
Well, that lasted point-five seconds.
Great.
I face forward while Banks pulls out of the gas station. “I’ll drive next stop,” I tell him.
He nods. “Who called earlier?”
I lean back, more tensed.
Being the boss, I don’t share everything with everyone in security. I could easily shut out Donnelly, Oscar, and Farrow (the Yale boys) and say, it’s nothing you should worry about. They’d understand. But the Moretti brothers are different. I’ve always confided in them.
And I’ve known Banks since I was twenty.
He was twenty-two, fresh out of the military, brand new to security, and I just clicked with Banks and Thatcher. At the time, not many guys were around our age on the team. We hung out off-duty. Relied on each other.
Thatcher Moretti became my best friend. We were both eventually leads. Our problems were the same, and we understood each other. Banks…Banks was the friend who added needed levity to the shit that Thatcher and I faced.
Most days would’ve been total hell without him.
So I won’t lie to Banks. We’re on the same side. Always.
“Your dad called,” I tell him.
Banks grips the steering wheel tighter with one hand.
Sulli stiffens in the backseat.
And just like that, I’ve siphoned off all the remnants of a good mood. I’m used to that. I pull switches often. One minute we’re all fun and games. The next, it’s serious.
“Yeah?” Banks frowns. “He bail on you already?”
“No. He’s just coming in a few days late.”
Banks blinks hard a few times, gaze hot on the road. “Don’t set your hopes and dreams on that, Akara. All that man is good for is disappointment.” His eyes flit to me, softening.
He’s worried for me, I realize. He’s worried his dad will be a no-show and fuck me over in the process.
I’m worried for him.
That his dad will show up and prove something worse to his son. Money drove him here. Not love for his family, his sons.
Sulli scoots up between our seats. “Is your dad really that bad?” She drops a bag of powered donuts in the drink console for us.
I open it.
“Yeah.” Banks glances at her, then the road. “The last thing he ever said to me before he left was, You’re the dispensable one.” He shrugs like it’s nothing but I know it’s everything. “I’m the second-born twin. The dispensable one.” He grits down on his teeth. “He can go fuck himself.”
7
AKARA KITSUWON
Sulli yawns into her bicep as she reverses out of the third campsite we’ve marked on the map. We called ahead to two, and they were full by the time we showed up. First come, first serve is not on our side tonight.
“I fucking hate when you have to have reservations to campsites,” Sulli grumbles. “Camping is half-spontaneity, and there’s nothing wild and free about a fucking reservation.” She flips off the At Capacity sign on the bulletin board before peeling the Jeep away.
“Jesus, Mary,” Banks startles awake with the sharp turn. He was lying down in the backseat, my baseball hat over his eyes, and he grabs hold of my headrest, pulling himself up. “What the fuck was that?”
“Not Jesus or Mary,” I say with a smile.
“Thank God.” He sits up more, rubbing his tired eyes. “I don’t expect to see them until I’m six-feet under.” He glances out the back windshield. Where our tires kick up dirt against the bulletin board. “Campsite all full again?”
“Yep,” Sulli yawns.
“Pull over,” I tell her from the passenger seat. “I’ll drive.”
“You just drove, Kits. It’s my turn.” She readjusts her grip on the wheel. While Banks has been sleeping, we’ve talked…not a lot.
It’s been just great.
Really, really great.
Outside of mentioning campsites, the last we spoke was through the McDonalds drive-thru, and I told her Oreo McFlurries tasted like concrete paste.
She said nothing until she dropped the McFlurry on her lap. And then she muttered, “Cumbuckets,” and gave me a look, “Can concrete paste, do that?” Her whole lap was wet with ice cream. Teal running shorts drenched. I handed her a roll of paper towels and helped wipe up the stream of ice cream that trickled down her leg.
She tensed.
I pulled back a little bit, wadding up the paper towel.
She used to always let me help her, but now—now it’s weird. Is it because she’s older? Because she’s dating—or she’s willing to date? I wish I knew. Things are stranger than I can even comprehend. Heat smothered me, and I just nodded to her.