Page 1 of Never the Best

CHAPTER 1

Rhett

"Y'all owe me. I got in there," I chuckled, my arm around Sage. "Or ratherinher."

Sage groaned. "You're such an asshole, Rhett."

"I know, darlin'." Sage and I had been dating on and off for a couple of years. I was her first, and she was mine, but we weren't planning on being each other's last. We were seventeen, and life was too short or maybe too long to be stuck with the same girl forever.

"I can't believe you fucked Fat Pearl," Gary said in awe.

"You said I couldn't do it, and I showed you I could. She was easy.Realeasy."

She wasn't. She'd made me work for it. Pearl was naïve but not stupid—in fact, she was brilliant. I had gotten close to her because of our shared love of reading, and we'd started a book club for two. In three months, I'd read more books I loved thanever before.

"How the heck did you do it? She doesn't even talk to anyone," Larry wondered.

"Did you have to roll her in flour to find the wet spot?" Gary cackled.

A part of me wanted to tell Gary to shut the fuck up. But Rhett Vanderbilt, the cool dude and future playboy, was too young and too much of a douche to fuck with his carefully curated image of callous cruelty.

"It was virgin pussy, wasn't it? Bet she was tight," Larry leered.

She was a virgin, sweet, and, fuck…sensuous. I, who prided myself on having slept with more girls than any other guy in my circle of friends, had been shocked at how sex could be emotional and beautiful, even while it was dirty. I wanted her again and again and again. But I couldn’t have her because choosing Pearl as my girlfriend would shatter my standing in the high school hierarchy.

"She was a bet, and yeah, she was tight, so it made up for…you know, how she looks," I said, but the words tasted like ash in my mouth. Pearl had looked stunning naked, with silky skin, amazing tits, and an ass that was made for—I reined in my thoughts before I got a hard-on just thinking about her. "Now, pony up, assholes. Hundred bucks from each of you."

That was when I heard Sage gasp.

I turned and saw Pearl standing by my pool gate, clutching a copy ofThe Grapes of Wrath. A few days earlier, she had told me she wanted me to read it and was convinced that I would love it.

There was no chance that she hadn't heard me, because herbeautiful, usually happy face was pale, and there were tears in her deep gray eyes. I wanted to apologize, but then Gary laughed, "Hey, Fat Pearl, my friend here give it to you good or what?"

I should've told him to shut up. I wanted to, but I didn't.

"You lucky girl," Sage added, joining in the fun. "Well, savor it, 'cause that's the last time someone like Rhett is going to fuck your big ass."

"What are you doin' here, Bumblebee?" I knew she hated the nickname she'd gotten when she was a kid, dressed for Halloween as a bumblebee, and it had stuck. She'd been round and roly-poly. It was cruel, but that was life, yeah? "You come here for round two? I don't do seconds, so you should run along."

She held up the book in her hand and then shook her head before turning around and leaving.

I'd never in my life seen someone look as devastated as she did—not until then, or since. She was crushed. I had done that.

I woke up sweating, breathing hard. The nightmare swarmed inside me, making me nauseous.

I sat up, my heart pounding.

I'd had the same memory show up in my dreams on and off for years, but they'd become more frequent since Pearl Beaumont had returned to Savannah.

I looked at the clock on my bedside table. It was four in the morning. I could get another two hours of sleep before getting ready for the day, but I knew that wasn't going to happen. If Josie was in bed with me, I could've fucked her toget some respite, but I hadn't been spending the night with her or fucking her for a while now.

How differently had my life turned out than I thought it would. When I was a seventeen-year-old asshole playing with the feelings of nice girls like Pearl—okay, so maybe only one nice girl; the others were sophisticated, like my fiancée Josie and my friend Sage—I'd thought I'd have the world at my feet.

On paper, I did.

I had a thriving business. Between the family wealth and my consulting firm, the Vanderbilt Trust had only increased in size. The Vanderbilts of Savannah were old-money aristocrats, our wealth a legacy carefully tended across generations. I now not only ran a successful business but also oversaw my family’s extensive portfolio, ensuring our fortune remained as formidable as our reputation.

Personally, my life was a shitshow.

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