Page 64 of Give My Everything
It isn’t often that I reach out to my brother to meet up and talk, mostly because we’ve never been particularly close—even though we’ve been growing closer recently—and partially because our family is a fucked-up mess.
But a few days after my absolute disaster of a conversation with Remmy and that absolutely crazy shit that happened under the pier, I find myself on the rooftop of Bennie’s in the cool, damp air of a Hermosa Beach morning, waiting for my brother to join me.
Maybe it was cowardly of me, but I decided not to reach out to Remmy the day after what happened. I don’t know if I should have, don’t know if it would have made her feel better or worse.
God, that conversation was just…ugh. It never occurred to me that Remmy might get upset at the mention of the stupid award she got in college. I mean, yeah, I know what a Bicycle Award is. Some of the fraternities gave those out when I was in college.
I guess I’ve just never thought a lot about it, about what it means to the person who receives it.
And Remmy…well, I might not know her that well, but the rumors have been plenty. My assumption was that she didn’t care or was maybe proud or…
Yeah, it all just sounds gross now.
The most ridden girl.
A buddy of mine was in a fraternity that gave out that award to his girlfriend at the time. We went out for beers afterward and he bitched and moaned about how embarrassing it was forhimto be dating the girl who had slept with so many of the chapter members. I hadn’t given it much thought then, though I remember finding the whole situation to be something that made me uncomfortable.
Now, years later, seeing the reaction on Remmy’s face…I’m finally able to pinpoint why that feeling of discomfort stayed with me for days, why I—maybe subconsciously—avoided fraternities and ‘frat bros’ from then on.
That girl was a person, someone who was enjoying herself and making choices based on what she wanted, and someone else decided to call her a whore for it. By bringing that shit up with Remmy, I basically did the same thing.
I take a sip of my whiskey, knowing it wasn’t necessarily a good idea to start drinking this early, especially when I have work to do. But I needsomethingto wash this nasty taste out of my mouth.
The thing that kills me is that I could tell things were moving in a good direction, too. We were laughing and joking, teasing each other. Almost like we were…I don’t know, friends or something.
Not that Remmy and I need to be best friends for this to work. We’re definitely both in this for what we can get out of it, but we might as well make it as positive an experience as we can, right? The last thing either of us needs is to be stuck in a shitty marriage.
Having witnessed the absolute disaster of relationship my parents had, I can aggressively state that I have no desire to follow in their footsteps.
So then why did I open my big mouth?
I let out a sigh and continue to watch the morning runners getting in their workouts along The Strand three floors below me.
And then there was what happenedaftermy idiotic mention of the assholes she knew at college. What happened under the pier…
I can’t stop thinking about it. Her hand on my dick, stroking me and asking me in that throaty voice if I wanted her to fuck me where someone might see us. Jesus.
I can’t remember ever getting that hard that fast before.
Even now, I have to shift in my seat at the thought, remind myself that Remmy has a lot going on in her mind and that I shouldn’t take advantage of her body, even if she’s throwing it at me. That’s why I need to talk to Wyatt.
Remmy has been wobbling through these interactions with me. Sometimes she’s the bold, brazen, sassy woman I always assumed her to be, but other times she’s this emotional wreck that shuts down and closes off.
I don’t know how to handle it.
And Wyatt…I don’t know how close he ever was with Remmy, but I assume they were friends at one point, assume he knew her on a different level than I did.
Realistically, he’s the only person I know who I can talk to about what’s going on with Remmy right now. I have a few friends from college, but they all live out of state, and my friends from high school aren’t really ‘friends’ anymore.
Besides, even if I wanted to talk to them, none of them know Remmy, or her history.
What I want is just to chat with my brother—probably the only other person on this earth I actually trust—and get his perspective based on his own past with Remmy, on the years he and Lucas were best friends while Lucas and Remmy dated. He’s got some information somewhere inside his brain that I know will be beneficial to me. I just have to figure out what it is.
“You know it’s creepy to wake up to a text that says I need to meet you on a rooftop, right?”
My brother’s voice makes me smile.
Okay, maybe not smile. I rarely do that.
