I think of all the girls that I’ve been with, all the beds I’ve slipped silently out of before sunrise, all the conversations we could’ve had but didn’t. “Yeah, actually, I can.”
“Well, it’s fucking bullshit! And then, the night of her birthday, I went over there because I wanted to talk. Just to talk. But she didn’t want to listen. And I just . . . I . . . I’m not proud of how I handled it.”
I look at him more closely now, wanting to ask, Well what the fuck did you do? Instead, I give another disapproving shake of my head. “There are much better ways to handle a situation than doing what you did.”
“It’s not like I was going to rape her,” he says. “She didn’t have to kick me in the nutsack the way she did. I couldn’t walk right for three days.”
I bite my lip. “So your side of the story is you tried to sexually assault her but she kicked you in the balls?”
“It’s not a sexual assault if you’re not hurting the person. If it’s someone you’ve already been with. We were together!”
“Listen, bro. I’m not that much older than you, but I think I can impart a little wisdom, if you’re open to it.”
He rubs his hand across the lower part of his face and then finally nods. “Okay,” he says.
“Don’t fall in love with potential. Potential doesn’t actually exist yet. So you’re basically falling in love with an idea that may or may not actually happen. It’s easy to do, but if your idea of how you think someone is and then the reality of who they actually are don’t align, well, then, you’re screwed. So when I hear you say that you knew the second you saw Jill that she was the one for you, that tells me you fell in love with the potential of what you guys could have had. You fell in love with what type of person she could be.”
His brow furrows, and for a second, I think he’s about to cry.
“Try taking a few deep breaths,” I say. I pat his shoulder. “Dude, you’re young, you’re a good-looking man, I’m sure there are a million girls out there who would love to hop in the sack with you.”
This seems to lift his spirits. “There are,” he says.
“So instead of wasting all this time and energy—and not to mention, orchids—on someone who doesn’t want to be with you, go find someone who does. It might surprise you how happy you can be.”
He nods slowly. “You might be right,” he says. “What was that you said? ‘Don’t fall in love with potential?’”
“Yes.”
“That’s real, man. That’s some deep, true shit right there.”
“True shit. Exactly.” I bite down harder on my lip to keep from laughing.
“Well, thanks,” he says. “Tell Jill I stopped by, okay? And tell her I’m sorry, and I won’t bother her anymore.”
“Sure.”
He starts to walk back to his car but stops and comes over and actually gives me one of those big, back-slapping frat boy hugs. And just as he is doing that, Cam pulls into the driveway and that is the first sight my brother has of me, embracing my girlfriend’s meathead ex-boyfriend.
Cam takes me out to lunch to this small little café, just south of San Francisco. We’re just after the lunch rush, and the place is pretty empty, but he still requests the back corner table, and when the waitress comes over to ask us if we want a refill on our drinks, he gives her a harsh look that sends her scurrying away.
He looks good, my bro, although older than I remember. I guess that happens. And he keeps tapping the tabletop with his forefinger and looking toward the entrance of the restaurant like he’s expecting someone else to come through the door.
“So how’s life?” I ask.
“Life is fine,” he says. I’m about halfway done with my burger, but he hasn’t touched his shrimp salad. “But I’ve got to admit, Griffin, I’m a little perplexed about this whole kidnapping situation.”
“I know you are. And I was too, for a little bit, but Dad’s not going to tell me anything. Hell, Dad wouldn’t give two shits if it happened again and the guys actually did kill me this time.”
“Are you worried about that? About it happening again?”
“Should I be?”
He stares at me. “No,” he says finally. “No, I don’t think you should be.”
“That’s good. ‘Cause, you know, I wouldn’t want to have to live the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, wondering when I’m going to be abducted next.”
“So did these guys say anything else to you? What did they look like? Would you recognize them if you saw them again?”
“Uh . . . no, I don’t really remember them saying anything of great importance. They seemed surprised Dad wasn’t cooperating, but all that told me was they had no idea who they were actually dealing with.”
“No, they didn’t.”
“And would I recognize them if I saw them again? Yeah, probably. But really, Cam, I doubt that’s ever gonna happen. They probably went down with the boat. Maybe they washed up in San Francisco Bay or something. Maybe I’ll get the call to come identify the bodies.”
“You’re fairly certain they’re both dead?”
“Fairly.”
He gives a brisk nod. “Okay. Excellent. Great.” He signals the waitress for the check and then we leave, even though I haven’t finished eating and he hasn’t touched his meal at all.
He drives me back to the ranch. I ask him if he wants to come meet Jill.
“Who?” he says, giving me a blank look.
“My girlfriend.”
He looks at the clock on the dashboard, then at his watch. “I don’t think so,” he says. “I’ve got to get going. This was primarily a business trip, after all. And I wanted to make sure everything with you was okay,” he adds quickly.
We sit there for a minute, the car idling. “Okay then,” I say. “It was good to see you. We’ll be coming back to New York at some point, if you’re around. Maybe you could meet her then.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
He looks at me, neither of us saying anything. Then he holds out his hand. “I’ll see you,” he says.
I shake his hand, then get out of the car, and try not to feel like I’ve just been interrogated and then dumped on the side of the road.
I’m walking down to the beach when I hear Jill call my name.
“Hey,” she says. She’s wearing a white tank top and cutoffs, flip-flops on her feet. Her toenails, I notice, are painted pink. “Where’s your brother?”
“Here and left already. He had a bunch of business meetings to get to, I guess.”
“Oh. Did you guys have a good visit?”
“Um, yeah, I guess so. I don’t know, we’ll probably get to hang out with him in New York, maybe. Or maybe not. He’s a busy guy. Whatever. It went fine.” I try to shrug off the disappointment that I feel that it didn’t go a little better. “But, you know who showed up while you guys were on the trail ride?”
She reaches over and takes my hand. “No. Who?”
“I’ll give you a hint: He was delivering an orchid.”
“What?! Sean was here?”
“He stopped by.”
“Oh my god. Did you tell him to leave and never come back?”
“We actually had a nice little chat. After we got past some initial . . . hostility. And what was this he was going on about—your birthday? Did he try to do something to you?”
She looks down at her feet. “Try being the operative word in that statement.”
“But you’re okay?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
“I can’t believe he actually told you that.”
“He wanted me to hear his side of the story.”
She gives me a skeptical look and then bursts out laughing. “Are you serious?”
“’Fraid so, sweetheart. But we actually had a good talk. I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about him anymore.”
Jill smiles. “Why thank you, then,” she says. She pulls me off the trail, far enough into the woods that you wouldn’t be able to see us from the path. There’s a little sandy clearing, and she stands in front of me, puts her arms around my neck. “I think I need to repay you for that monumental favor you just did for me.”
She pulls her arms back and runs her hands down the front of my shirt, lightly over my torso. She unbuckles my belt, pops the button on my jeans, and then kneels down in front of me as she lets my jeans fall around my ankles.
“Oh,” I say.
I have, what you might call, a turbulent libido, and just the sight of her, kneeling in front of me with my cock a few inches from her face, gets me instantly hard. She takes me into her mouth, moving her tongue in circles around the tip of dick. I put one hand on her head but don’t try to direct her movement; I let my head fall back and fall into the sensations rippling up and down my body. Her mouth is soft and wet, and my ass clenches when she takes me in far enough that I can feel the back of her throat. She moves her head a bit and I can feel my inner thigh muscles quiver.
“I need to be in you,” I say. “Now.”
Her shorts come off, underwear down, and I lie on the ground. “Ride me,” I tell her. “Ride me like you ride those horses every day. Get on top and fuck the shit out of me.”
And she does. I hold her hips and look up at her gorgeous face, the way her top teeth bite down on her lower lip, how she closes her eyes when she moves her hips back and lets me get in really deep. She pauses for a moment to catch her breath and I tell her to turn around, to face the other way, but to do it while I’m still in her. She stretches those long legs out and very slowly rotates, so now I’ve got the perfect view of the symmetry of her back, her slender midsection, that glorious fucking ass. Holy shit.
And the girl can ride. I already knew that, but . . . she swivels, rolls her hips forward and back. I grab her ass cheek with one hand, lick my forefinger, and then slowly slide it up her butt. I don’t think she even notices. A lot of girls are wary about backdoor entry, but if you do it right, they’ll come like they never have before.
Which is exactly what she does, and I am not far behind.
Ahhhhh.
Chapter 24: Jill
We have a family cookout on the last day of camp, and I even drove up to the city to pick up Mom and bring her down. The kids are all happy to see their families, but sad that their time here is coming to an end. They all sit around Griffin, and as I watch, I realize they’re all taking turns sitting next to him, writing their email addresses and phone numbers onto a piece of paper for him.
“Will you be getting a new phone soon?” one of the girls asks.
Even Karen jots something down on the piece of paper. At this point, it wouldn’t surprise me if they started asking Griffin to autograph their t-shirts or something.
Eventually, Griffin finds his way over to the table I’m sitting at with Mom. “Jill’s mom!” he says, and he leans down and gives her a hug. “I’ve heard a lot about you—I’m glad we finally get to meet in person.”
He sits down next to her and has Mom charmed in about two point five seconds. It’s actually interesting to watch him interacting with all the parents, the way they’re equally taken with him as their kids have been for the past three weeks. I think that must be interesting—to be so likable. It’s a talent, really.
“So I haven’t really decided what the plan is going to be after this,” Griffin is saying to Mom. “I’m going to go back to New York for a little while and see my own mom and stuff. I was actually kind of hoping Jill might come with me.”
Mom beams and looks at me. “I think it’s a great idea if you go to New York,” she says. “It’d be like a vacation. You deserve a vacation.”
Even though it won’t be exactly a vacation, per se, I’m thinking that it sounds like a pretty good idea, too.
Later, though, I start wondering if it actually is a good idea. Things with Griffin have been going extraordinarily well, but I think that’s in part because we’re here at the ranch. Because in between us being together, we’ve got work to do, there are always other people around, plenty of distractions. If I go to New York with him, there won’t be work and the people around us will be strangers.
But what about the original plan, I remind myself. The original plan was that I didn’t like Griffin and somehow found a way to get to New York with him to try to find out information about Dad’s death. That plan seems skewed now, because I actually do like Griffin. Maybe it was a dumb plan to begin with.
