“I’m twenty-eight,” Hamilton answered before taking another bite.
“Not too old,” I replied before reaching for my glass of wine. He clicked his tongue and reached over the tabletop to grab the glass before I could. Our fingers brushed in the process.
“I didn’t realize you were underaged. Would you like a juice box? Fuck. I could have gone to prison for the stunt I pulled at the wedding. Thank hell you aren’t a high schooler.”
“I don’t need a juice box,” I snapped back.
“A bottle of milk then?” he teased.
“Hilarious.” My dry response had Hamilton laughing. Sure enough, he got up and dumped the contents of my glass out and pulled out some cranberry juice from the fridge. I watched him pour some in my glass and shook my head in amusement when he set it in front of me.
“Here. You can pretend to be a big kid now.”
“You do realize you gave me whiskey earlier, right?”
“That was before I realized you were barely an adult,” he retorted.
“The legal drinking limit is a joke. I can sign up to go to war, but I can’t buy a beer?”
“You’re too pretty for war,” Hamilton whispered before going back to his seat. His lips formed into a slow, building smile as he stared intently at me. I met his gaze head on as he licked his lips. My heart pounded, and he took a sip of his drink. “Besides, I don’t take you as much of a drinker.”
I shifted my weight on the hard wooden kitchen chair. “I’m not. I never really had time for wild teen acts of rebellion,” I admitted before scraping my fork across my plate.
“My entire life has been one big act of rebellion,” Hamilton replied with a laugh before leaning back in his chair. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done then, hmm?” His question made me blush. I knew my answer almost immediately. The memory that bombarded me was both intrusive and dirty. I had to fight the smile begging to cross my face. Hamilton’s eyebrow arched. “Oh, this is going to be good.”
I licked my lips and averted my eyes. “It’s nothing, really. Compared to what you’ve probably done.”
Hamilton leaned forward. “It’s all relative. Don’t compare your wild to someone else’s.”
“The comparison trap is a slippery slope,” I agreed.
Hamilton bit his lip and folded his hands under his chin, as if preparing to listen intently to me. “Now tell me what has those pretty cheeks of yours turning pink. Give me your worst.” I let out an exhale and tucked a stray hair behind my ear while looking at the kitchen. I inhaled the smell of our dinner while prolonging the inevitable. “I’m waiting.”
“Fine,” I replied before dragging my eyes to his. The intensity that met me made me gasp. “I had sex with the quarterback of our high school football team in a science lab. It was my first time, but he was gentle with me. We’d been flirting a lot,” I said before stopping to pick at my nails. I hadn’t orgasmed, which wasn’t a deal breaker in the moment. It was raw and passionate and…quick…
“Naughty,” Hamilton replied. “Were you dating?”
“Not really. I was helping him study for our chemistry exam.”
“You know, I think I saw a porno like that once,” he replied cheekily while running his hands along his thighs.
I ignored his comment. “It was fun. I felt wild and wanton. But then he texted me about it, and Mom went through my phone,” I admitted. “She freaked. Made me get Plan B and then grounded me. She said she didn’t want me ruining my life like she did.” I never told my mother that I hated feeling like her mistake. She took my first time and twisted it into something that made me feel inadequate and wrong. “She also made me look at photos of STDs and threatened me with all kinds of punishments. She told me that my body was like a delicate rose, and every time I slept with someone, I was plucking a petal off.”
Hamilton pinched his lips together. “That’s kind of toxic,” he replied, his face serious, those dark eyes of his wide in disbelief.
“I get why she is the way she is. She wanted me to have all the things she couldn’t have. I think when you’re coming from a place of resentment and fear, it’s hard to say or do the right thing. I just feel like I’m supposed to do everything she missed out on, you know? Anyway, he and I hooked up in secret a couple of times after that when Mom worked late. But it wasn’t anything serious. I ended things when the guilt got to be too much.”
Hamilton’s face twisted into anger, and he stood up, grabbing his plate as he did so that he could put it in the sink. “I guess he wasn’t good enough to make you stay, hmm?” Hamilton asked, his face turned away from me. “And I suppose that makes sense. We try to be everything our parents aren’t. It’s why I’m determined to be happy.”
“Happy?” I asked as he rinsed off his plate in the sink.
“It’s the one thing Jack Beauregard isn’t,” Hamilton answered before turning to face me.
“Jack seems plenty happy,” I countered.
“Seems is the key word, Petal. It’s easy to look one thing and be something completely different.” I nodded, understanding Hamilton but not quite wanting to believe him. “It’s been a long day. Let’s get the pull-out couch set up.”
I nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Thanks.” This conversation was getting heavy.
We made our way to the living room, and Hamilton found some spare sheets and an oversized fuzzy blanket for me to use. I got ready for bed in the spare bathroom and thought over the conversation I’d had with him. I was desperate to figure out the family dynamics. I knew in my gut that their strained relationships started the day his mother died. But why?
Hamilton was setting a glass of water on the coffee table when I made my way back. “I’ll be gone in the morning before you leave. Lock up for me, yeah?”
He started walking away, not even giving me a chance to reply. “Thanks for letting me stay!” I called at him. My only answer was the sound of his slamming bedroom door.
What made Hamilton run so hot and cold?
5
I woke up to the sound of Little Mama whining and an unfamiliar voice chastising her. “Hold on, you needy little brat. You’ve already had three treats today, and if I give you any more, we both know it’ll go straight to your hips. Your metabolism isn’t what it used to be.” I sat up on the couch, my threadbare sleep shirt hanging off my shoulder. I smacked my lips and looked around the dark room, trying to remember where I was.
Hamilton.
“Good. You’re up,” a raspy voice said. I looked over the edge of the couch and was greeted by a beautiful woman. She was wearing a gray tank top and ripped jeans. There was a lip ring in her plump pout, and her dark skin was smooth. She was tall and toned. “Hamilton left already but explained the situation. I’m Jess.”
Hamilton left? I stood up and nervously walked over to her. “Hey. I’m Vera, it’s nice to meet you.” I held out my hand for her to shake, and she simply raised her pierced eyebrow.
Up close, I could see specks of gold in her brown eyes, and a shaved line in her eyebrow. She had a slim gap between her front teeth and smelled like cigarette smoke. “Sorry, hon. Any family of Hamilton’s is an enemy of mine. Feel free to freshen up and see yourself out. Oh. And fuck you.”