Page 42 of His Custody

And coming home after midnight on prom night was one of them. Hell, if Gavin were still alive, he and Keyne would’ve been holed up in a hotel room right now, going at it like bunnies. Joyful, innocent, sweet, cotton candy sex. For the ten millionth time, he wished he could take Gavin’s place in that crypt. Hurt for his brother and all the things he’d never get to have. Far too soon. There were still so many things he’d wanted to tell Gavin, so many things he’d wanted to say, so much wisdom he’d wanted to impart. And if Gavin could’ve seen Keyne tonight...

The puffy green skirt of her dress came into view before the rest of her did and Jasper looked up over the book he’d been pretending to read. “Hey, sweetheart, how was—”

She didn’t look at him as she stomped past. She must’ve taken her shoes off because the hem was dragging on the ground.

“Keyne?”

She didn’t stop, didn’t answer, so he followed her down the hall to her room where she flung open the door and threw herself across her bed. There wasn’t any weeping or muffled sobs, but clearly the evening had not gone as planned. He sat down on the bed.

“Elliott Bishop is an asshole.”

His first impulse was to raid the gun safe, hunt the fucker down and kill him, but that probably wasn’t Keyne’s motivation in telling him. He took a deep breath and waited for her to say more.

“He got a hotel room.”No murder, no murder, no murder. “I didn’t want to fool around, but I was sick of being down there with everyone else. It’s not like we’d been dating before. I thought maybe... maybe...”

“Maybe you could make out and order room service, call it a night?” He was teasing, but didn’t miss the pink flush that crept over the back of her neck. She had. He hadn’t realized...

“Tonight was supposed to be special.” She rolled over and her eyes were red.

“Did that fucker—”

“No. He tried to feel me up but it was gross. Then he told me I was being a prude and tried to get under my skirt. That’s when I told him if he got much farther, I was going to put him on the ground with his head between my legs and it was going to be a lot less fun than it sounded because I’d gouge his eyes out and crush his skull like it was a grape.”

The laugh burst out of Jasper. He wanted to high-five her so badly he could taste it, and god he wished there were someone he could tell this to who wouldn’t think it was entirely inappropriate. Leisl would appreciate it and wouldn’t look at him like he was some pedophile. “You said that?”

“Yeah.”

She was silent and stared up at the ceiling. It might be hilarious to him, but it was another low for her. He flopped down beside her, laced his hands behind the back of his head and stared at the same ceiling, wishing he could see what she saw. “I’m sorry, Keyne. I’m sorry you didn’t have a good time, I’m sorry your date was an asshole. I wanted you to have fun, be a kid for a night.”

Whenever he said stuff like that, she rolled her eyes, sometimes tried to punch him. Not tonight. She closed her eyes and then in a crackly, about-to-cry whisper, said, “I wish Gavin were here.”

His throat closed up and the backs of his eyes stung. He wasn’t one for crying, but if anything could do it, it was Keyne and her heartrending wishes for her old life, how things were supposed to be. How he wished they could be. And then she was pressing against his side, resting her head, hair stiff and sticky with hair spray, against his shoulder.

He swallowed to get rid of the too-close-to-tears sensations. “I do, too.”

“We were supposed to...”

“You were supposed to what?”

“Nothing, it’s embarrassing.”

“You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Her heavy sigh was hot against his chest and he was aware of her breasts pressing into his ribcage. She mumbled into his chest and he swore to god it sounded a lot likeIt was supposed to be our first time.

What? He’d assumed—hell, everyone had assumed—Keyne and Gavin were having sex. They had slept in the same bed most nights, were rarely out of spitting distance of each other, had had ample opportunity. Their parents had at some point decided it was a foregone conclusion, and instead of flipping out, had stocked both their en suites with condoms. He should have pretended to ignore it, like he didn’t hear it, but his mouth beat his brain to the punch. “You’re a virgin?”

“Yes.”

Jesus fuck. That put everything into rather harsh perspective. And somehow made all the depraved thoughts he had about Keyne even worse. A virgin? Jesus.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

And he was. Her first time should have been with Gavin. His brother could be goofy and overeager, but for all his fumbling, he would have been gentle with her, tried his best to make her feel good, would have loved her to within an inch of her life. Would it have been any good? Did it matter?

His first time had been a bit of a disappointment. It had barely counted. Lisa Claybourne in her pink chintz bedroom while her parents were in Ibiza. It was more out of boredom than anything else. And when it was over, he’d thought “That was it? That’s all there is?”

It had been eight years until the light had turned on. Not that he hadn’t seen kink in porn, but it seemed cheap and cruel. He liked the women he fucked, he wanted them to enjoy it.

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