Page 25 of Deuces Wild

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“Pay you for sex?!” Aly jumps off the island.

“No!” I grab her before she can go push Carter back into the pool. “To live here. He didn’t say we had to have sex.”

Aly stands there for a moment staring at me. The anger melts from her face as a small smile forms on her lips. I don’t get what she’s smiling about. She looked like she wanted to kill Carter a few seconds ago.

“He doesn’t know any other way.” I still don’t understand what she’s getting at. “I mean, Carter lives a lonely life. We can all see that.”

I nod in agreement. It didn’t take me long to understand that about him. I’m not sure Carter even knows that he’s lonely. If you’ve never had something then you can’t miss it. I think that’s the case with Carter. He’s never put himself out there to have a relationship that meant anything. Whether it be a friend or something else. That thought has a little jealousy sprouting inside of me.

“Think about it. This is how he grew up.” She motions with her hands. “You want something you buy it. It’s all he knows. It’s all he’s ever known.” She gives a small shrug. “I mean that’s sad but if you think about it, he’s trying to keep you and he’s doing it the only way he knows how. He doesn’t even know he’s being a dick.”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that.” He isn’t pushing for sex. When I put space between us he gave it to me. I’ve even watched him have the battle with himself over it. His fingers have itched to touch me. I have to admit that I’ve wanted that touch. It scares me so much. To know it and then to lose it would be devastating.

“Well, maybe the push in the pool helped give him a reality check. If not, Owen might be giving him one.”

Carter might be an asshole at times but I think Aly might be right. I need to remember that he’s been so understanding of my situation and where I’ve come from that I should do the same to his. Oh, his life might be a whole lot nicer, but I’m sure it still comes with its own scars.

“Let’s find our suits.” I rip open one of the bags Carter got me.

Aly bursts into laughter. “That’s something an old lady would wear.”

I open another bag and it’s worse than the one before it. Tears of laughter stream down her face. I can’t help but laugh along with her.

“So glad Owen didn’t pick out or see my swimsuits. I would have ended up with one that looks like a granny suit also.” She wipes the tears from her face. “Here. Pick one of mine.”

I can’t help but giggle again. I cannot believe the swimsuits he picked out for me. “This one should fit.” I hold up a white two-piece.

“Let’s do this,” Aly agrees as we put on the suits. “Got a robe? I want to make it to the pool before Owen tries to cover me in his shirt or something.” I go into the bathroom grabbing mine to give to her. It’s then I notice how mine hangs next to Carter’s. It is as though I’m already living here.

“You not putting one on?” Aly asks.

“Nope.” Not after the old lady swimsuits he got me.

Aly gives an evil smile. “This is going to be wonderful.”

I’m not sure how this night will turn out but I wasn’t expecting it to end with the cops showing up.

Chapter 19

Carter

I didn’t hear the sirens. The music was too loud. Plus, two hundred seniors and a few underclassmen were noisy enough to drown out an airhorn so I was surprised when our butler, Felton, found me standing by the edge of the pool trying to block the rest of the class from looking at Mallory’s nearly naked body.

The butler draws me aside. “Sir, there are officers here to see your guest.”

My eyes fly to Mallory, who is in a splash fight with Aly. Look at me, learning people’s names. I give myself a brief pat on the back before turning to Felton.

“How’d they get past the gates?”

Felton clears his throat. “They were open for all the guests.”

We survey the rowdy crowd in unison. A couple of the tables have been tipped over. Someone has broken off the arm of one of Dad’s statues. There’s more beer on the tiles than in anyone’s stomach and so many people have had sex in the hot tub that the thing is going to have to be drained and disinfected with industrial bleach. Or maybe we should just tear out the tile and start over.

“Remind me to never host another party, Felton,” I say as I walk over to grab my hoodie. It’s cold outside of the water. Whoever thought a pool party in fucking January made sense needs his head examined.


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