It Was Me Read online

  IT WAS ME

  Anna Cruise

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  IT WAS ME

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright @2013

  Mission Bay Publishing

  Cover Design by Mae I Design

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the expressed written consent of the author.

  AUTHOR'S NOTE

  One thing I heard a lot after people read It Was You was that they wanted an epilogue in order to find out what happened AFTER the story was over. They wanted to know if Abby and West got married. If they had kids. If they settled into life as an old married couple.

  There was a significant reason I didn't include any of that. It's simple, really. If I told you what the rest of their lives were like, I wouldn't need to write any more stories about Abby and West. There wouldn't be more books about all of those moments that changed the directions of their lives. Because that's what novels—at least my novels—are: small glimpses into the lives of characters that, hopefully, you find interesting, that you identify with and care about. If I gave you their life histories in one big dose, that would sort of be the end of it. I could tell you that they got married, had kids, got jobs, had grandkids, fought like married couples do...but for me, that doesn't sound nearly as interesting as continuing to write their stories.

  So be patient. There's more on the way. I promise.

  ONE

  “Tucson?” I said, raising my eyebrows. “Why would we go to Tucson?”

  “Sun. The desert. Cactuses.”

  “Pretty sure it's cacti.”

  “Whatever,” Abby murmured.

  I looked at her. “You know what I mean. What the hell is in Tucson?”

  She snuggled up against me, heat radiating from her naked body. “A resort. That my family goes to every year. And that they specifically invited you to.”

  I readjusted my arm beneath her. “And why exactly did they do that?”

  “Well, they're going because they love it over there. It's pretty cool, actually.” She kissed my chest, her mouth open, her lips wet. I tightened my grip on her. “But I think they invited you because they'd like to get to know you a little better, West.”

  “We've been together almost a year,” I said, my eyes closed. “They know me well enough.”

  It wasn't a total truth. Abby and I had been together for nearly a year, a year that had pretty much flown by. Our classes at Mesa would be done in a week and it was funny to think that we'd met in line while registering. It felt like I'd known her forever. You don't get in line to sign up for some crappy junior college classes that you really don't give a shit about and think you'll meet the person who'll turn your life upside down. But I did. Abby was that person for me.

  But I hadn't gotten to know her parents that well over the last several months. At all, really. Between my school schedule and their work schedules, it seemed like they were never at the house when I was there. I knew Abby liked her parents and was close to them, but I'd never had the opportunity to spend much time with them. Which was fine with me. I wasn't avoiding them. I just preferred to spend my time with their daughter.

  “They want to get to know you better,” she said. Her tongue flicked at my bare skin. “You know, since we're sleeping together.”

  My pissed-off-dad alarm went off. I didn't think they were totally clueless about the relationship I had with their daughter, but hearing it put like that made my pulse jump. “What??”

  She giggled. “Okay, so they didn't exactly say that. But they did say that it would be nice if you came. So they could spend a little time with you, too.”

  I didn't say anything right away. I had no issue with getting to know Abby's parents a little better. I mean, we did spend a ton of time together and, if I was a dad, I would want to know who the hell my daughter was shacking up with.

  But a week? A week of hanging out with her parents? Of being on my best behavior? I didn't do good behavior when it came to Abby.

  “A whole week?” I finally said.

  She nodded and strands of her soft brown hair tickled my skin. “I know. It's a long time. But we should do it.”

  I trailed my fingers lightly along her arm. She shivered and shifted so she was pressed closer to me.

  “What about this?” I asked, pushing my hips into her.

  She sighed. “I know. We'll...manage.”

  I didn't think vacationing with an ever present hard-on sounded like the best way to spend a week, but I could tell she was torn, too.

  “And we might be able to find a little alone time,” she said.

  A new alarm went off. “What about...?”

  Abby answered before I could spit the rest of the question out. “Annika's not going. I already checked. She has sorority crap to do so she won't be there.”

  I'd steered clear of her identical twin ever since she'd fooled me into thinking she was Abby one ugly night. I tensed up just thinking about it. That night haunted me—not because what happened was my fault but because, even then, when she was touching me, kissing me, sucking me, I'd known something was off, something wasn't right. And even though I'd stopped her before things had gone too far, it always rattled me when I thought about the could-have-beens.

  She and Abby had settled into some sort of weird truce that was still filled with tension, but I wasn't interested in any kind of truce. I didn't like what she'd done and it had almost ended any shot I'd had with Abby. And I really wasn't the forgiving type.

  Abby wrapped her bare leg over mine and the shifted with her. “Look, the fact that they invited you tells me they'd really like you to come. My parents aren't bad. Really. It'll be like a mini-celebration for making it through the school year.”

  “I wasn't saying they're bad. I know they aren't. But I wasn't looking to celebrate with a week of celibacy.”

  She tilted her head so she could look at me. “You just want me for sex, don't you?”

  I thrust into her again, grinding my hips against her. “Absolutely.”

  She laughed and pushed at me. “I knew it.”

  I kissed her cheek, then moved my mouth to her ear. “Don't be an idiot,” I said, letting my tongue trace her soft earlobe. “I love you. All of you. I just hate the thought of not being able to have you.”

  She sighed. “I love you, too. And you'll have me. I promise. We'll find time. A place.”

  We'd found lots of time at my place. Abby was still living at home but I had my own apartment. Which meant we always had a place to go. Which meant we were there. Often.

  Like this afternoon when we'd come back from classes to study for our last finals.

  Only we'd ripped each other's clothes off and fell into bed without even thinking about the books we'd thrown on top of my desk.

  I lifted my lips from her ear and rubbed my cheek against her hair. “Alright. I'll have to check with work, though.”

  “They're usually pretty flexible, right?”

  I nodded. They were. I'd picked up a job as a part-time instructor at a baseball academy. I'd missed playing more than I thought I would and working at the academy kept me connected to the game. I worked mostly with younger kids, middle schoolers who thought they were pretty good until they stepped into the cage and swung wildly at ungodly breaking balls that rolled off the ends of invisible tables. When I stepped in behind them and drove those same pitches hard into the net, they'd paid attention to anything I had to say after that.

  “I really want you
to come,” she said. “I don't want to be away from you for a week.”

  I knew what she meant. Apart from the occasional weekend with Tana, Abby and I had gotten used to spending most of our time together. Sure, Griffin and I still hung out. And it wasn't like I scheduled my classes at the same time as hers. There were days when our time together was limited. But we always managed to see each other. So a full week without her did not sound appealing. In any way.

  “We can lay by the pool, be lazy and...” Her fingers drifted from my stomach to down between my legs and I felt my body respond to her touch, stiffening in her warm hand. “And find time. For this.”

  I'd never had trouble resisting a girl. Until Abby. I couldn't get enough of her and I could put up a big front, but in the end, I'd do just about anything to make her happy. Including going on a goddamn family vacation.

  “Promise?” I asked, pushing her onto her back and hovering over her, letting her hand bring me to full attention.

  She looked at me with half-lidded eyes as she guided me into her. “Promise.”

  TWO

  A week later, our finals were done and I was packing a bag for Tucson, trying to decide on how many T-shirts and how many pairs of shorts I needed for a week-long vacation.

  “Jesus, you're packing like a girl,” Griffin said. He was stretched out on my bed, his hands clasped behind his head. He looked like a giant, his massive frame sprawled out, his blond hair almost white against my dark pillowcase.

  “Am not.”

  “You stare at that dresser drawer any longer and I'll suggest just wearing a bikini.”

  I laughed and fired a shirt at my best friend and roommate. He reached up and caught it before it could cover his face. He looked at it. “Yeah, I wouldn't take this one, either.” He tossed it back and I shoved it in the drawer. “What the hell are you so worried about?”

  “I'm not worried about anything.”

  “Then why are you acting like packing for a trip to Arizona is the most important thing you've ever done in your life?”

  I dropped the shirt in my hands and leaned back against the wall. “I just haven't spent much time with her parents.”

  “So?”

  “So I don't wanna screw it up.”

  “You won't.”

  I shrugged. I'd never been the guy girls wanted to bring home to their parents. I was a jock. I had a tattoo. I had a temper. I wasn't exactly talkative. I was more like the guy girls wanted to date and hoped their parents didn't find out about. I hadn't been in this position before and I hated that I cared what they thought about me. Because I did.

  “What?” Griffin asked. “You're worried about telling them about having to bail on Stanford? Or your dad?” He grinned. “Or that you're doing their daughter?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Pretty sure they've got that part figured out.”

  “So, what?”

  I shrugged. “I dunno. All the other stuff, I guess.”

  Griffin sat up on the bed. “My guess is they already know. About the baseball shit. And sleeping with their daughter.”

  “Great.”

  “Well, you said she's pretty tight with her parents. So I think she would've already told them about all that, man. And if they already know that stuff and they're still asking you to go with them for the week, then I don't think you have anything to worry about.” He paused. “And if all that shit did matter to them, then, uh, fuck them.”

  I shrugged again. It wasn't that simple, at least the way I looked at it. He was probably right. Abby had probably told them about my winning a partial scholarship to Stanford, then losing it thanks to my asshole dad. She'd probably told them about my probation for getting in a fight and acting like a jerk to the world. As for the sex...well, I wasn't sure she was that tight with them, but I had no doubt they knew. With the amount of time we spent together, they had to know.

  I thought about myself as a package, waiting for parental approval. I was pretty sure, if I were them and had heard all that, I would've had reservations about me. But I wasn't them. I was me. And I knew I didn't need their approval. I didn't give a shit what anyone thought about me.

  But I knew their opinion mattered to Abby. She would listen—at least a little bit—if they disapproved. And while maybe she had told them all that stuff about me, it was bound to be a little different when they started asking those questions to my face and making judgments.

  I sighed. The bottom line was, because of the way I felt about Abby, I needed them to like me.

  “But I honestly don't think they'd be asking you to go along with them to the Shangri-La or wherever the hell they're taking you if they didn't already approve,” Griffin said, leaning back on his hands. “So I think you can stop pissing your pants.”

  “There's no piss in my pants, asshole.”

  He grinned. “Not yet.”

  I shook my head but I was smiling. “Whatever.” I pulled out a couple of T-shirts and shoved them into my bag. “I just want it to go okay, you know?”

  “I know,” he answered. “And it will. As soon as they see how whipped you are for their daughter, they'll probably be begging you to come with them on every family vacation.”

  “Ha.”

  Griffin reached into his pocket and pulled out a wilted pack of gum. He unwrapped a piece and popped it in his mouth. “What about the other one?” he asked. “The psycho one. Is she going?”

  “Fuck, no,” I said emphatically. “Because I wouldn't be going if she was. She's got stuff going on at school or something. I don't know. But Abby said she's not going.”

  “So then you're totally safe, dude, because you don't even have to worry about making out with the wrong one.”

  I shot him a look.

  “Too soon?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

  It would always be too soon to make jokes about that night with Annika. It wasn't funny and it wasn't something I was going to forget. You don't pretend to be your own twin sister and hook up with her boyfriend unless you are seriously fucked up. And as far as I was concerned, Annika was seriously fucked up.

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Sorry. Bad, bad joke. But my point is, if it's just you and Abby and her parents, that seems like a pretty low stress weekend to me. You can hang out, be with Abby, get to know her parents and they can get to know you. I mean, that's kind of the last hurdle isn't it?”

  “The last hurdle?”

  “To sealing the deal,” Griffin said. “I mean, look. I've seen you with a ton of girls, but I've never seen you like this. And that's totally cool. I see that look in your eyes when she's around and when she's not around. Man, she's the one for you. I don't think there's any doubt.”

  “Dude, I'm not marrying her.”

  “Yet.”

  “I'm not even legal drinking age. No way I'm getting hitched.”

  But, even as I said it, I knew I only half meant it. We were both too young to get married, no doubt. But there was one thing I did know with complete clarity.

  Abby was the one for me.

  She was the one that made me stop looking at other girls, that made me feel comfortable in my own skin and the one that made my heart slam into my chest every time I looked at her. I hadn't gone looking for her, but she'd found me.

  “Whatever,” Griffin said, grinning again. “So if the parents are on board with you, it's smooth sailing,”

  “I'm not used to smooth sailing,” I said, folding up a pair of shorts and shoving them in the bag on top of the shirts.

  “Well, maybe you're due, dude,” Griffin said. “Maybe you're due.”

  “Shit, I'm not sure I'd know what to do with smooth sailing.”

  Griffin stood and stretched, his fingertips brushing the ceiling. He punched me in the shoulder as he walked out of the room. “Then I'd suggest not screwing it up this week.”

  He sprinted down the hall before I could hit him with another shirt.

  THREE

  “I'll get the gas,” I said, push
ing open my car door.

  “You don't need to do that,” Abby's father said.

  But I was already out the door. We were somewhere near Yuma in the Arizona desert, having just crossed the California-Arizona border. The heat lifted off the pavement like someone was firing it from a hairdryer. Mr. Sellers had ordered me into the front passenger seat of the SUV while Abby rode with her mom in the back, insisting that there was more legroom upfront and that I'd be more comfortable. There may have been more room, but I sure as hell was less comfortable sitting next to him. We'd pulled up to a massive truck stop and I figured since they were driving and paying for the resort, I should at least pay for something so I didn't look like a complete freeloader.

  Mr. Sellers beat me to the pump, though, and was already pulling his card out of the slider. “Hey. We invited you. You're our guest.”

  I shuffled my feet against the pavement. “I know, I just...”

  He put a hand on my shoulder. “Son, don't take this the wrong way. But you've got to relax.”

  “Sir?”

  He smiled at me, squeezing my shoulder. “I get it. You're on a vacation with your girlfriend's parents. It's a bit uncomfortable, a bit awkward. You probably thought about trying to finding a way out of it.”