Page 12 of A Major Puck Up

In rapid succession, they continue.

Mom: What time will you be home?

Mom: I bought a bottle of wine and rented the new J. Lo movie. Or we could look up ways to covertly ruin a wedding. He’d never suspect it was you. LOL.

I roll my eyes, even as my heart sinks. I don’t understand why my mother is taking my father’s engagement so hard. They haven’t been together in over a decade, and mom has been in plenty of relationships over the years. Though she always has loved drama, and she’s exceptionally good at putting my siblings and me in the middle of her fights with Dad.

Tonight, my family drama is the last thing I want to think about. Which is ironic, considering that I came in here seeking revenge for exactly that.

My father and my brothers have moved on with their lives, while I’m stuck in an endless cycle with a woman who’s still living in the past. Who’s constantly trying to turn me into her little doll. Whether it’s dressing me up in clothes she thinks I should wear or nagging me about the kind of men I should date, she considers me her project. While we’re all in Aruba for my father’s wedding, she’ll no doubt spend the week texting me incessantly about how awful my new stepmother is.

My phone buzzes again. This time the messages that appear have me shrinking into myself.

Chrishell: Holy crap. TMZ just released pics of your father with Lake on the beach in Aruba. Are you going to the wedding?

Taylor: Or did they elope without telling you?

Chrishell: Is Daniel bringing a date? If you’re going, bring Taylor as your plus-one, and I’ll be Daniel’s date.

Taylor: She’s probably not invited, Chrish. Drop it.

My “best friends” are awful. A petty part of me would love to send them a sneaky photo of Gavin right now and tell them exactly what I just did. They’d never believe it. But I feel oddly protective of this moment. If I told them, they’d figure out a way to make it about them, and for one night, I want something just for me.

“Ready?” Gavin asks, interrupting my downward spiral.

Am I ready? This is the moment to decide. I planned and schemed, and all the while I believed I was ready for tonight, but I can admit now that I could never have gone through with it if not for the man who’s watching me right now, looking at me like he’ll respect whatever decision I make. Like he’s just happy that he got to spend time with me tonight. Content with the fact that he did what he did, with no expectation of anything in return.

But do I want our night to end here? For one night, I don’t want to think about my family. I don’t want to focus on my reality. How my father is marrying a woman half his age and how, once I return from his wedding, I’ll still be living with my mother. I’ll pick up where I left off, dealing with her daily tantrums and drama. I don’t want to remember how awful Chrishell and Taylor are. How they masquerade their commentary on me and my life as something real friends do.

I take his proffered hand, and for a moment, all I can do is think about the way it engulfs mine. When I finally look up, he’s smiling at me, his eyes warm and understanding.

“I’d like you to take me to your home,” I say quietly, gauging his reaction.

There’s no cocky smirk in response. Instead, his face lights up with genuine joy. Then he nods before pressing a soft kiss against my forehead. It’s comforting and sweet and makes me feel safe.

He’s absolutely the right person for me to do this with. Every cell in my body can sense it. He’s the right man to give my virginity to. A man I trust to make it good.

Trust. That word is like a lead ball sinking in my stomach. Because while I know who he is, he’s still oblivious to my real identity.

I second-guess my decision a thousand times during the five-minute ride to his place, but then we’re pulling into the parking garage and he’s ushering me into the elevator.

His home boasts beautiful views of the city and a gourmet kitchen. The artwork on the walls and candles and books on display make the space feel just as warm and comforting as Gavin himself.

Gavin’s age and wealth and experience are evident in every crevice. With each step I take, I feel more unprepared. More inexperienced. More unsure that I can make him feel good. That last part has, for some reason, become paramount.

Used to messy dorms that smell like beer and boys whose clothes are wrinkled and whose sheets haven’t been washed since god knows when, I’m completely out of my element when Gavin rounds the bar and offers me a glass of wine.

I do my best not to nod too eagerly, but a little liquid courage couldn’t hurt. And the red he’s poured for me is incredible.

“Thank you.”

He taps his glass against mine. “We don’t have to do anything, Peaches. If you want to just hang out on the couch and talk, I’d be more than happy with that.”

I take a long sip of wine and then set the glass on the bar top.

Gavin watches me, expression thoughtful, as I take his glass and do the same. When I slip my hand in his and tug, his brows shoot up, and a pleased smile graces his face. Then I lead him down the hall to where I can only assume the bedrooms are, hoping like hell I’m not making a fool of myself.

Gavin hovers behind me, resting a warm hand on the small of my back. As we continue down the hall, he uses his free hand to push my hair to the side and kisses the space between my neck and shoulder.

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