Page 8 of Masked in Deception
I feel something in my core as he deepens the kiss. The hand that was cupping my face slowly makes its way down my body as our tongues dance.
Without warning, the image of Edward fades into a different man. Edward’s brown eyes turn to deep blue, and his black hair lightens to dirty blond.
I pull out of the kiss and half expect to see Jack sitting beside me, but the illusion is gone. “Mmm, baby, you’re an excellent kisser.”
Baby. Not Princess. Baby.
The memory of Jack telling me you aren’t allowed to kiss until you’re eighteen flashes across my mind, and I have to force myself not to laugh out loud. What a silly little girl I used to be. All the things I used to say to him and about him. All the questions he somehow managed to answer without laughing in my face.
I wonder if heknewI had such a crush on him. He’s never given any indication that he would think so, but God, that’s so embarrassing. Not that I see him much anymore anyway. Over the past few years, he and Ledger have only ever really come home for holidays.Sigh.I miss those guys. One in particular.
I give my best shy smile, but don’t acknowledge the kiss comment. “Thanks for distracting me.”
“Anytime, you just let me know if you need some help with that again.”
“I will,” I say, snuggling back into him.
I don’t.
I’ll be spending the rest of the night thinking about what Jack’s kiss would be like. Where his hands would go.What he would do to distract me.
Chapter eleven
25 years old
I’m not sure what the hell I expected to be doing my first week back from a two-month-long bender in Europe with Ledger, but it definitely wasn’t sitting around reminiscing with him and his mom about Margot being a whole-ass adult. We were initially supposed to leave yesterday for a deep-sea fishing trip, but Blanche realized we were going to miss prom by one day and read us the riot act about the fact that we’ve been gone for so many of Margot’s milestones. And honestly, she’s right. I didn’t think Ledger and I had beenthatabsent since we graduated from college, but now that we’ve looked at school activity pictures from the past few years, not to mention family vacation photos that we weren’t there for, I feel like a piece of shit.
We’re not avoiding the family, it’s just that Ledger’s relationship with his dad has gotten more complicated with every passing day, and I can’t not be where he is. We’re too codependent, so when he runs away from his problems, I follow. Tonight, though, I’m happy we’re here. Blanche is inher element, showing us Margot making cheer captain, Margot wearing the first dress she designed and sewed for herself, and Margot beaming at her senior piano recital. She’s clearly become every bit of the force I predicted. I wince.We really haven’t been here for a lot of it.And now she’s heading off to college in just a couple of months, and she’ll be even farther away.To Harvard.Our brilliant girl.
But we’re here tonight. We took hundreds of photos earlier—us in informal slacks and dress shirts and her in the pink dress she made herself, looking like a Barbie, as always. Ledger and I gave her little date a long talk about how to treat our princess, and he drove her off in his flashy car with too much horsepower for a high school kid. Finally, Blanche and Ledger go to bed, and I’m left alone, smiling at album after album of all of us as kids.God, we had it so good.And I’m an emotional fucking sap.
I pour the last of the second beer I’ve been nursing down the kitchen sink, ready to settle in for the night, when my cell rings, and it’s Margot, calling way before I expected her to be home. I’m thrown back to how I always felt when she had nightmares and woke up screaming, or when she saw a snake in the backyard, and mine was the first name she screamed when she needed help. My skin crawls thinking she’s in danger, and I’m already out the door with my keys in hand before I can answer the phone. I don’t even stop to put on shoes.
“Hi, Princess. What’s wrong?” I ask calmly, starting my car and peeling out of the drive.
“I’m eighteeeeen!” Margot squeals into the phone, giggling, and I slow down a little since it doesn’t sound like she’s in mortal peril.
“Agreed, Margot. You’re eighteen. Are you okay? Why did you call me from prom? You should be dancing with your friends, not talking to an old lame like me,” I tease, trying to figure out what made her want to call me.
It’s quieter on the phone now, like she’s moved away from a group of people, and it takes her a minute to answer. “You were supposed to kiss me when I was eighteen. But you haven’t. Not very nice to lie to me, Jack. I always hated it. Butttttt…” She giggles again. “Other guys have kissed me, so it’s okay if you don’t want to!” She dissolves into laughter, and for some reason, unfamiliar jealousy roils in my gut at the thought of some boy’s lips anywhere near my Margot.
That’s new.
“Margot, are you drunk? You promised us you’d try to stay tipsy so that you can be safe tonight.” I don’t want to be stern with her, but her school has a reputation for wild prom nights, and she agreed she didn’t want to be a part of that stereotype.
“Well, Jack. I lied,” she deadpans, then hangs up the fucking phone.
That little brat.Well, two can play that game, Princess. I track her phone to the prom’s location, and after explaining who I am to security, I enter the ballroom to try to find Margot so I can haul her ass home. I make a loop around the perimeter with no luck before I hear a “getoffme” from a side hallway and take off running, regardless of who it is. But it’s my princess, and her sleazy little zit-nosed date has his hand on her tit, which is fully out of her dress, as she weakly tries to push him off and stand at the same time.
If I thought the jealousy I felt earlier was a strong emotion, it’s nothing compared to the red haze that falls over me at this scene. Before I’m even conscious of my actions, this fucker is on the floor with a busted lip and a broken nose, and I’m being held back by security. I tell the principal that we won’tsue the senator’s son for sexual assault if they don’t book me for regular assault, and I’m allowed to leave with Margot, who’s been relatively quiet the whole time.
We’re about halfway home when Margot puts her hand on my thigh and squeezes.
“Thank you for rescuing me tonight, Jack,” she says, without removing her hand. “I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.”
I look over to see that her eyes are much clearer. The bottle of water I made her drink when she got in the car helped to hydrate her and wake her up a bit. Her hand stays on my thigh, but she turns to look slightly out the passenger window, and I get my first chance to take in her profile tonight.
Her golden hair is pulled half back from her face, leaving her button nose and full lips on display. She’s gone from being a pretty girl to a stunning woman, with her ocean eyes lined and accentuated with more makeup than she usually wears, and her cheeks sporting a natural blush that extends down her neck to her cleavage. She’s filled out in the past couple of years, inheriting her dad’s height and her mom’s curves, and the pink satin dress she’s designed for herself has corseted her breasts to their full advantage. She looks like the princess she is, if princesses were sexy, perfect sirens designed to bring men willingly to their knees.
