Perfectly Broken (13 page)

“What the hell?” Reed whispered, smacking him on the back of the head. “How would you like someone to look at your aunt that way?”

Jeremiah shrugged his shoulders. “You love her?”

“We’re dating. Just eat your pie.”

Jeremiah took a bite then licked his fork. “There’s this girl in my class,” he said. “I love her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but my aunt says I better keep it in my pants.”

“That’s good advice. You’re barely a teenager.”

“How old were you?”

Reed put down his fork, now wishing he’d taken Jeremiah home after paintball. “I’m still waiting. You should wait until you’re married.”

Jeremiah laughed. “You’re lying. You’re a terrible liar, Reed.”

“Look,” Reed said, gritting his teeth and leaning in close, “just keep it locked up, OK?”

“You, too, man.” Jeremiah looked over at Peyton. “Don’t want to knock her up.”

“Good tip.” Reed’s neck tensed for a moment then remembered pregnancy wasn’t possible, not even pregnancy scares — at least not yet. “So what’s up with this girl in your class?”

Jeremiah frowned. “I haven’t even kissed her.”

“Again, you’re barely a teenager. It’s fine.” Reed wondered if Jeremiah had kissed any girl but didn’t want to embarrass him.

“Other kids at school talk about all the stuff they do with girls.”

“I’m sure they’re lying,” Reed said. “At least I hope so.”

“I don’t even know what they’re talking about half the time. Few days ago, I got on the internet to try to find out some stuff, but my aunt caught me and freaked out.”

“OK.” Reed put down his fork and took a deep breath. “What do you want to know?”

“Really? You’ll tell me?”

“Sure,” Reed said, though sensing he was in trouble.

“Brown bagging it?” Jeremiah blurted out.

“Keep your voice down!” Reed cried, shushing him, then letting out a laugh.
This won’t be so hard.
“Same as butterface.”

“What?”

“The girl has a hot body —
but her
face
is nasty. So she’s hot, but put a brown bag over her head when you’re....” Reed stopped before saying anything more.

Jeremiah laughed so hard that Peyton looked over at them, raising a curious eye. “Beer dick?”

Reed chuckled. “When a guy gets so drunk, he’ll have sex with anyone, even the brown bag hags and the butterfaces.”

Jeremiah nearly fell out of his chair in laughter. Reed was an encyclopedia of information — a living, breathing internet.

Peyton wiped down the counter, watching Reed with Jeremiah. She thought it was so sweet that he was taking time to mentor the kid — to try to lead him in the right direction, to help him make good decisions, to teach him about the world. Based on his player reputation, she never would’ve thought he’d bring a teenage boy from the wrong side of town to her store for pie or for that matter, have anything to do with such a kid. But here he was, probably talking to Jeremiah about architecture and the upcoming Saints season and his soccer team. The man continued to surprise. And it didn’t seem he was just doing it to impress her. He seemed to be genuinely having a good time. Peyton flashed him a sexy smile.

Reed winked at her and took a huge bite. “One more, dude.”

“Snowballing?” Jeremiah whispered.

Reed started to gag, nearly choking, pounding on his chest. Peyton looked at him, concerned, her sexy smile gone, suddenly wondering if she’d have to perform CPR. He quickly composed himself and wiped a tear or two from his eyes. “Nope.”

“But you said you’d tell me.”

“Lower your voice,” Reed begged. He couldn’t believe young teens — or any teens — were discussing such things.
Beer dick was one thing, but this?
He looked Jeremiah in the eye and pointed his fork at him. “Just know that if a girl asks you to do it, run the other way!”

“It’s that bad?”

Peyton came over to check on them. “What are you two talking about?”

“Snowballs!” Jeremiah blurted out, and Reed choked again.

Peyton tenderly rubbed his back. “Snowball stands are my competition,” she said with a smile. “No snowballs for either of you.” She turned to Reed. “You OK? I’ll get you some water, baby.” She walked away.

Reed glared at Jeremiah. “You little ....”

“Tell me,” Jeremiah interrupted.

Reed took a deep breath. This was not the mentoring he had in mind. He leaned over and whispered in Jeremiah’s ear.

The boy recoiled, scrunching his face in disgust. “Gross.”

* * *

Griffin knew their days were numbered. He’d felt that way for awhile. He figured Stephanie knew it, too, though they never talked about it. And Griffin certainly never brought it up — like most guys, he didn’t want to talk about anything unpleasant — and Stephanie never bothered to mention it, either. He assumed she was too goal-oriented to give up; after all, they’d invested years together in Chicago. But it just wasn’t working anymore.

It was hard enough for two young lawyers to date — always analyzing themselves and each other — but they were also just totally different people. She was a go-getter, an ambitious woman trying to work as many weekends as possible to make partner in a tough market, while he, always the happy-go-lucky guy, felt life just had a way of working itself out. And things always did seem to work out for him. If one door closed, another would always open up. He wondered if the next door was a thousand miles away in New Orleans. And he wasn’t about to let Reed keep him from opening it.

Griffin didn’t like that Peyton basically hung up on him on Valentine’s Day. He thought about sending her an e-mail, spilling everything he knew about Reed — and his screwed-up family, too. Griffin had seen her go through too much, had helped her go through too much, for her to risk everything this way. But no one likes a tattletale, and he couldn’t pursue Peyton anyway. He lived too far away. Maybe that could change soon, but not immediately. The play for now was just to lay low and continue to be a friend, then hopefully be a shoulder to cry on when Reed inevitably screwed things up. But until that happened, he’d be damned if Reed got any closer to her.

So it was time to call in backup. Griffin dialed his younger sister. He made some smalltalk for a few minutes — talking about the Cubs and Bears and Bulls, and the wintry weather still blowing through the Windy City. He could tell Quinn was bored, which was fine with him, and once she started blabbing about Bret, he saw his opening. “I actually saw Bret’s friend at Adelaide’s when I was in town with Stephanie.”

“Yeah, Reed’s there all the time. He and Peyton are dating.”

“Really?” Griffin asked, pretending to have no idea. “Didn’t you warn Peyton about him?”

“I tried, but she likes him. And he likes her. It’s not my business anyway.”

“But she’s your best friend?”

“Why are you so interested in who Peyton’s dating?”

“Because she’s one of my best friends, too,” Griffin said, knowing it sounded weak.

“
Right
,” Quinn said, her Southern accent dripping with sarcasm. “Does Stephanie know you’re so interested in Peyton?”

“I’m not interested in Peyton. I just want to make sure she’s OK.”

“Well, I can assure you, Griffin, that she’s perfectly OK. In fact, I haven’t seen her so happy since before....” Quinn stopped. “I don’t need to say it. You remember.”

“I do,” Griffin said quietly, closing his eyes, remembering studying for his torts exam, just across the courtyard from where Peyton and Quinn shared a college apartment, then getting the frantic call from his sister, her voice thick with panic and fear.

“Good, don’t ever forget the way she looked in the hospital. Her eyes have never been the same — not until very recently. So I’m not going to give Peyton any more warnings or anything like that. I frankly don’t care if Satan himself is making her happy. I will
not
take any bit of happiness from her.”

Griffin hung his head. This was not going as he hoped. “He’s going to hurt her.”

“Then I’ll take care of her,” Quinn said, quickly. “I did it before.”

“And so did I.” Griffin paused before continuing. “If you were her, wouldn’t you want to know who you’re dating? I mean, what kind of family you’re getting involved with?”

Quinn exhaled. “Look, Peyton hasn’t told Reed everything, either.”

“He doesn’t know she was raped! He’s probably all over her!”

“You sound a little jealous, Griffin. Think about that before you destroy Peyton’s happiness.”

Griffin hung up the phone, feeling sick to his stomach. He wasn’t the kind of guy to hurt anybody, let alone a girl who’d been through so much already. But somebody needed to look out for Peyton. It had been his job for years — since she had no father or grandfather to do so. And he didn’t want to let go of that. He couldn’t let go of that. No one else seemed ready to take the job. Reed certainly couldn’t do it. And whatever Quinn’s role, she didn’t seem to be doing a very good job. So it didn’t matter what his sister thought. Someone needed to get to Peyton before she got in too deep with Reed.

AS THE LIMO
pulled up to her house, Reed pulled at the collar of his tuxedo, trying to loosen his silver necktie, feeling like he was once again going to senior prom. All the same ingredients were there — tux, limo, hot girl, hotel reservation. Peyton didn’t know about the last part, but he’d make sure she couldn’t refuse. In fact, he’d already checked into the hotel.

It would be a shame, he thought, not to get a room since the Mardi Gras Ball was in the first floor hotel ballroom. He set up the room with candles, flowers, bubble bath, and of course, a few condoms in the nightstand. He wasn’t sure he could get that far with Peyton — they’d only kissed so far — but figured a guy could hope, and like a boy scout, it never hurt to be prepared.

He approached her front porch, looking like he just stepped out of a Hollywood movie. He knocked on the door then let himself inside, accustomed to her leaving the front door unlocked for him. He found Peyton starting down the staircase in a long white halter gown, flowing and moving as she did, perfectly accenting her curves. Forget about the ball, he could watch her walk the stairs all night — as long as they still hit the hotel room after. “Wow.”

When she reached the bottom, Reed pulled her into a hug, his hands unexpectedly landing on her bare flesh, his fingers grazing something unusual trailing down her back. He twirled her around, seeing a single strand of pearls attaching the halter to the plunging waistline. “Holy shit.” He ran his finger down the pearls, feeling Peyton quiver from his touch.

She flashed a naughty smile over her shoulder. “When I saw this dress, I immediately thought of you.”

“Did it come with a matching thong?” Reed rubbed his hand across her ass before crashing his mouth into hers and pinning her against the wall. “Let’s stay here.”

Peyton gripped his shoulders, holding him at bay. “But your mom is expecting us.”

“OK, ten minutes at this damn thing.” He placed his hand at the small of her back and led her outside, seeing her eyes light up at the limo under the magnolia tree. “Since we’re going, I decided we’re going to do it right.” The driver held open the door, and they scooted into the back seat. “But I’m serious about ten minutes. Then I’m taking you up to that gorgeous bed.”

Peyton tilted her head to the side and raised the privacy screen separating them from the driver. “When did you go into my bedroom?”

“I wasn’t talking about your bed. I have no idea what your bed looks like, but I’d like to know.”

“What bed are you talking about?” Reed reached into his wallet and held up the hotel key. Peyton narrowed her eyes. “I see.”

Reed put his wallet away and pulled her to him. “We don’t have to use it, but just think about it. It’s been weeks.”

“I’m sorry,” she said flatly, “I won’t be going to a hotel room with you tonight, if ever.”

“Ever?”

“I’m not on the buffet, remember?”

“I know that.”

“Then don’t treat me that way.”

“I’m not.”

“You always took them to hotels, right?”

Reed’s eyes fell down. “I didn’t think about that.”

“I just don’t want to be like all those other girls.”

“You’re not.” He massaged her hand. “I was just trying to be romantic.”

Peyton fidgeted with her locket then looked him in the eye. “Then take me back to your place tonight.”

* * *

The hotel ballroom sparkled with gold and ivory table linens and crystal chandeliers. Reed slipped his hand into hers and looked at her from the corner of his eye. She put all the other women to shame, many trying way too hard, with their painted-on makeup, slutty dresses barely covering their thongs, tacky Mardi Gras feathers in their hair. Peyton didn’t need any of that. She sparkled like a streetlight on a dark French Quarter street.

“Ten minutes,” he said, looking out to the crowd.

“We can’t be rude.”

Reed groaned. “15 minutes, max.”

Peyton started towards the dance floor, as a jazz band started to play. “We’ve never danced together.”

Reed gave Peyton a little twirl, and she laughed, kissing him softly on the lips. “14 minutes now,” he whispered. Suddenly he stopped, his eyes firmly fixed on his mother dancing with a man in a classic black tuxedo, his gray hair perfectly cut. “Let’s dance later.” Reed pulled Peyton away from the floor.

But it was too late. His mother had spotted them and was heading in their direction. He tightened his grip on Peyton’s hand. Marion greeted her son with a bright smile and threw her arms around him, then she pulled back before giving his cheek a little pinch, forcing Reed to give a little smile. She turned to Peyton, dressed all in white, and wedding bells quickly rang in her mind. She took Peyton’s hands then looked at her son, taking a photo in her mind.

“You look simply ravishing!” Marion gushed, side-stepping to take in the pearl strand along Peyton’s back. “Absolutely lovely.” With a slight blush, Peyton thanked her and returned the compliment. Indeed, Marion herself was a sight to behold, wearing a floor-length, amethyst-jeweled dress. Marion waved her husband to come closer. “You must come meet his girlfriend, Peyton.” Reed and Peyton exchanged a quick glance, as his father approached.