Broken Pretty Things by Amber Faye

Chapter 25

I spendSunday morning in bed, feeling confused, weird, and so blindingly aroused that I end up trying to recreate whatever Gunnar was doing to me with his hand. His fingers were angled somehow. His thumb was somewhere. I can’t do it, though, and when I give up I’m more flustered and frustrated than I was before.

I end up texting Ulla to come keep me company, then I think to invite Hero too. Soon they huddle up with me and piles of fluffy pillows and we watch movies about high school and romance, eat nachos and boo all the characters.

“Are you guys going to the Halloween gala?” Hero asks somewhere around the end of Can’t Hardly Wait, which is a movie about a guy who watches a girl for four years, never says a word to her, and decides he deserves her. I guess in my current frame of mind, pining for my ex friend who never seemed to want me like that until he started to hate me, all movies about love seem offensively ridiculous.

“The what?” Ulla and I ask.

“Oh, my parents always make me go to these things,” she says with a wrinkle of her nose. “I don’t even remember what they’re raising money for. Maybe deforestation, or the bees.”

Something environmental like that has Rayne written all over it. Ever since he was a kid and his mom got him a membership to the local zoo, Gunnar has been gung-ho about conservation. His dad was more than happy to oblige, and now most of their fundraisers have that kind of a theme. It’s not the cause that really matters for these things, anyway. They’re all just another move in the never-ending social chess game that is Torrent Bay.

My mom used to make me go to these events too. Hopefully, now that I’m in my senior year, I’ll be able to say no. I can’t handle any more Gunnar. I don’t want any more Rayne in my life right now, full stop.

“I really hope I don’t have to go,” I admit, and Hero laughs.

“I really hope so too. But,” she adds, “on the offchance I have to, maybe you two can consider it.” It’s a cute, roundabout way for her to just ask us to go. I shrug. I want to keep her company if that’s what she wants, but I really, really don’t want to see him any more than I have to.

And just then, because he’s the devil, his name flashes up on my phone screen.

“You should ignore it,” Ulla says, peering over my shoulder.

“No, answer it and say, ‘Who’s this?’” Hero laughs.

“Or answer it and pretend your butt answered it and make sex noises for another man,” Ulla says. “Talk about his huge dick. Make Goonar feel bad.”

“Gunnar is big,” I say bitterly. A part of me had been hoping he wasn’t, but after last night there’s no denying it.

“Oh. What an asshole,” Ulla says simply. The call rings out, then he calls again right away. I go to Decline, but then I wonder: what if he has something to say about Cole? About what we talked about last night?

“If he’s an asshole, I’ll hang up on him,” I promise everyone, including me, and I answer the phone. “What?”

“Andie.” He’s almost out of breath, but his panting is controlled. I hear footfalls. He’s either escaping something, or he’s out on a run.

“What?”

He chuckles a little and the sound tickles my ear. I adjust my phone, frowning. “I just want to remind you to do your half of the Chemistry project.”

I pause. “That’s it?”

More panting, more footfalls. I can hear in his voice that he’s smiling. “Huh?”

“That’s it? You made a whole big show about being my partner, and you’re not going to mess with me? I just do my half, you do yours, we don’t even have to meet up?”

“Right,” he pants. Then he stops running, catching his breath. I can still hear the weird grin when he speaks. “Text me if you have questions. Otherwise, just email it to me. Do you know my email?”

“Of course I know your email, you lunatic.”

“Hey,” he laughs, infuriating me with his casual attitude. “But yeah, OK. Send it over. See you in class.” He hangs up.

The girls stare at me, worry and confusion on their faces. “What is he up to?” Hero asks low. I shake my head. I have no idea.

We get through the whole first half of another movie, Hero scrolling through her phone, until she finally says, “Aha,” and sends me a screenshot. It’s my own grades for the year so far. They … aren’t great.

“Whoa, what? How did you get these?”

She rolls her dark blue eyes. “School systems are so easy to get into, I swear, but that’ll be a rant for another time.” I raise my eyebrows at her, but she continues. “This upcoming Chem project is worth a huge chunk of your grade. Just like I thought. If you flunk this project, you could have to repeat the year.”

“He wants me to leave town, not stay in school another year,” I point out.

“Oh.” Hero double checks.

“Could he be trying to get her a passing grade so she doesn’t do another year?”

“She’d pass just fine without partnering with him. Her Chem grades are always solid. You can see it all right here.”

My gaze ping pongs between them both as they discuss me and my schoolwork. “So what in the hell does he want?” Ulla demands, punching her thigh.

“I just love how ready you guys were to hate him with me,” I say, leaning back onto the squishy pillows. Hero says, “Aww,” and pats my foot.

“He doesn’t get to do this,” Ulla tuts. “You know, Nordic men are not so assholeish. You should come visit me in Finland.”

Hero gasps. “Can I come?”

“Of course!” Ulla roars, almost knocking me off my bed.

“That would be so fun,” I say, still staring at my phone screen. I mean it, really — how cool would a girls’ trip to see the northern lights be? — but I can’t help but be distracted. His voice, that low chuckle, it still reverberates through my mind, and pulls at my core.

A part of me wonders what would happen if I completely gave into him. Would he lay off me? I just don’t think I could take it if something actually happened with him, and then he went right back to treating me like he hates me. I would feel weak for the rest of my life.

In the meantime, if I’m not going to go crazy, I need to do something about the intense need inside me that I never quite figured out how to quench on my own. I feel like I missed my formative years for this stuff, and I wish I could knock each and every one of those guys out for it.

“Do you girls know anything about …” I trail off, my face heating up. Ulla glances impatiently at me. I make a vague gesture.

“What are you trying to say? Dick? Balls?”

I drum my fingertips on my lip. “Doing … it yourself?” I say finally.

“Of course,” Ulla says. I try not to look right at Hero, worried I’ll make her blush so hard she’ll faint, but she looks calm, picking at a loose thread on my bedspread.

“Sure,” she says.

“I think Andie is talking about, you know, toys,” Ulla tells her, almost a warning. She can tell, too, that Hero isn’t the most confident with certain social situations. This is probably one of them. She has a very innocent, pure vibe. Hero nods, and then gives one of her awkward half-smiles.

“Like vibrators, Andie?” she asks. Ulla and I exchange a look.

“Yeah …”

“You want, like, a recommendation?” she asks, squinting at me. Now I feel like the awkward one. Larissa, Aurelia and I used to talk about this stuff, kind of, but I stopped when I stopped being comfortable with the topic of sex. Luckily, it was around that time that Aurelia really came into her own, sexually, so she was perfectly happy with more of the limelight.

“Right,” I say. “This is weird, right? Maybe my old friends were more—”

“It’s not weird, I’m just thinking,” Hero hums. “You think I was ever allowed to be alone with a boy even long enough to kiss one? I had to figure stuff out on my own. It became something of a personal project. I like the Swansong 3.0.” She tilts her head in thought. “Though you strike me as more of a passion flower type of girl. No offense intended.”

“None … taken?”

“Maybe just a little finger vibe for you, Andie,” Ulla says. “I don’t think you can take a Swansong.”

I laugh. “This is all gibberish to me.”

“There are rabbits, but they’re kind of cumbersome. And there’s no hiding what they are,” Hero adds, finger in the air. “You know, maybe a Lilypad.”

“A Didgeridoo,” Ulla says. “The pink one is strongest. It will tear your down under asunder.”

“No, definitely not. For Andie? What about a Swahili Explosion?”

“A Mr Potato Penis, with all the attachments.”

“A teeny tiny little”—Hero pinches her fingers together and peers through them—“Tinkerbell’s Titty Tornado.”

“OK,” I interrupt and they both fall about laughing. “How long have you been making them up?”

Hero waves me away, still giggling. “Why do you want one?”

I roll my eyes. “I just want to …”

“She obviously wants to stay away from Goonar,” Ulla explains. Hero nods, eyes wide. “That’s how they get you, the hot ones. Did he show you those muscles here? Fwoop.” She draws a V on her abs, and I cover my mouth to contain the laugh. “Yes, you need a vibrator, dear.”

“When is your 18th birthday?” Hero asks.

“Two months.”

She shoots me a grin. “I’ll send you an early present.”

“Soon as possible,” Ulla says, very seriously.

“We got you, girl.”

This is all kind of weird, but I feel a rush of adoration for my two new friends.

* * *

They weren’t kidding.Hero heads home, and Ulla goes out for a run, and just a couple of hours pass before a courier shows up at my door. He has a whole box. It looks way too big for just one thing. I sign for it and dart back to my room before anyone I happen to share this house with comes to ask what I ordered.

Maybe it’s weird that my brand new friend ordered me a whole box of sex toys, I think as I score the box open on my bed. No, scratch that, it’s definitely weird. But she doesn’t really have a whole lot to go on, friendship-wise, and she seemed excited to do something nice for someone.

What a sweetheart, I think with a raised eyebrow as I lift something eggplant-shaped and knobbly from the box. Not that. There are two different sizes of dildos, a ‘personal massager’, and something the shape of an egg made of some kind of rubber. I’m totally out of my depth, so I close the box and leave it for when I’m in a more adventurous state of mind.

Or if I start to consider contacting Gunnar.

We should stop doing this … it isn’t helping anything.

That’s what he’d said. Yeah, no shit. There’s no way in hell I’m going to try to talk to him until I get some kind of mega apology to end all apologies. And, I remind myself, a painful knot in my stomach, that’s just never going to happen. To his credit, he hasn’t been unclear about that part, at all.

In fact he’s been pretty clear about everything. He doesn’t like me, he doesn’t trust me or want to pursue any kind of friendship. He doesn’t think I’m as attractive as Aurelia, but now that we’re not friends and he doesn’t care about me, he’s fine to, what? Use me?

Sure, I had a pretty crazy crush on him at one point, maybe more than that, but I do have more self respect than that.

I stare over at the box of sex toys, picturing that strange knobbly, spiky one again. Yeah. Not happening tonight. I have to try to find a non-weird way to thank my new friend for sending me a box of dildos tomorrow at school.

I bring my knees up to my chin and look around my still-bare bedroom. I’m bored.

It’s eight, and before all this stuff went down, I would have been out with people, playing drinking games or video games or both. Dancing around with my friends. Maybe eating a whole pizza. I lean back into my pillows. At least I have Pietro’s great taste in soft and fluffy home decor. It’s getting a little harder to stay positive, but I’m managing sometimes.

Maybe I should use the jacuzzi tub. Or, even better, the hot tub outside. I can bring my Kindle and finish that YA novel I started back before we moved. Excited by the idea of hanging out with myself and doing something fun, I get changed into my red bikini, grab a fluffy towel, and head out to the back yard.

There’s a real chill in the air, but once I sink down beneath the bubbling surface, I’m warmed and cozy. I lean back and try to remember what was happening in this chapter of my book when I hear an explosion of laughter from the guesthouse just down the path, at the end of the yard. Dimitri’s pad. I realize with an inward groan that my stepbro dearest must have some friends over, and I debate whether or not to leave. But, screw it, this is my house too, and I can read a book in the back yard.

Dimitri often seems to have people coming and going, I’ve noticed. Chances are, whoever it is, maybe someone from his old school, will head out in a few minutes.

“Oh my god, you slut!” someone screams, and two girls cackle in harmony. Oh. Oh no. That was, one hundred percent, without a doubt Larissa and Aurelia. Aura. I huff a derisive noise and try even harder to concentrate on my novel.

But I know that rough gravely sound anywhere. Gunnar’s very rare but distinctive drunk voice. And there’s the smug chuffing noise Logan makes when he’s laughing at his own jokes. Dimitri shouts something unintelligible, and the girls squeal with laughter again. Why the hell did he invite them here? He can’t be that good friends with them. They’re messing with me, surely.

Or maybe I’m just being self-centered. Maybe somehow they just really adore each other and this was the best place for them to hang out tonight.

I haul myself out of the hot tub anyway, flicking my hair back behind my shoulders and letting the water run off my skin for a minute. It might be unusual, but I kind of like the sudden bite of cold air. I watch the steam curl from my reddened skin for a moment, knowing full well I’m about to slink back to my bedroom, just because I hate hearing them out here having fun. And I hate that.

I lift my head when the steam starts to lessen, and I can see Gunnar, his piercing amber gaze, through the guesthouse window. He’s on an armchair, Aurelia on his lap. His hand is on her stomach, firm and protective. He’s staring at me, but not into my eyes. He’s looking me up and down, taking me in. I don’t know if he can even tell I’m looking right at him. The slump of his shoulders and the heaviness of his eyelids confirms that he’s wasted. He never gets wasted. Aurelia twists her body and tries to kiss him on the cheek, but it pulls him out of his reverie — from watching me — and he jerks away from her advances. She lets her mouth hang open and hits his arm in mock shock, but I know her. She’s actually pissed.

I get up, slowly, and now his eyes are on mine. He traces his lower lip with his tongue. His eyelids flutter. I’ve never felt so thoroughly raked over by someone’s gaze before, and I should be unsettled. This is exactly the kind of thing I’ve hated ever since Dom. This is exactly the kind of quiet violation I needed Cole to shield me from. But I’m caught now in the snare of his predatory, lusty eyes. I know I can move, get free.

I don’t want to.

I straighten up my bikini, slowly, skating my thumb under the lining of the wet red fabric, skimming my bikini line. As far as he knows, I’m just making it sit right. But I take my time. Throbbing arousal runs through me when I see that he looks physically pained. I can see, even from here, the shallowness of his breaths. He is biting hard on his thumbnail, eyes on my body.

Fuck him. He wants me just as bad as I want him, if not more. If not so, so much more. I straighten up the top half too. I’ve always liked my boobs. They’re big for my slim frame, which I thought looked weird for a while, but finally gaining a little fat and muscle on the rest of my body has evened my proportions into something more womanly.

My nipples are pebbled from the cold, and when I rearrange the fabric it’s even more noticeable. He looks me in the eye, sets his jaw, and squeezes Aurelia’s side tighter, more possessively, but it’s just for show.

I wonder if she can feel that thick, hard cock against her ass.

I wonder how she’d feel if she knew it was for me.

I turn around and walk back inside the house, trying to ignore the raucous sound of their fun. And almost succeeding.