to cover up the fact you want me. I don’t judge you, Bert. Your boyfriend’s a pussy. It doesn’t count.”
My heart pounds in my throat. “Shane’s not just my boyfriend. I’m gonna marry him someday.”
“Nah.” Rumbling, his voice comes out deep and vibrates through my ear. “You won’t marry him. Whatcha doin’ right now, Bert? What changed your mind?”
“Didn’t change my mind.”
“Oh, right.” He laughs obnoxiously. “I forgot, wrong number. Okay, just stick with ‘whatcha doin’?”
“Lying in bed.”
His laughter cuts off in an instant. “In your silky nightie?”
Satin. “Yes.”
“You got panties on? They got my name on them?”
My pulse, no longer in my throat, beats elsewhere. Much, much lower. “I can’t answer that, Bryan. I have a boyfriend.”
“Mm.” A low growl plays in the back of his throat. “Say my name again.”
“Bryan.”
“Good, now say it softer.”
“Bryan.”
“Now say ‘fuck me, Bryan.’”
“No!” Forgetting where I am, I stop breathing and wait for my daddy to come beat down my bedroom door.
“Bert?”
“Shh.” The darkness surrounds me. The cicadas chirp outside my window. The sports channel still murmurs through the house. I left Daddy asleep on the couch with the first quarter of an old game on repeat. “I can’t be loud.”
“I’m sorry.” He whispers, too. “You’re hiding out from your old man?”
“Yeah. He’s asleep on the couch.”
“You eighteen yet?”
My brows pull together in confusion. “Next week. Why?”
“Wanna run away with me?”
At least I don’t shout a second time. “No. I’ll have a ring on my finger before my cake’s cut next Monday. A wedding to plan soon after that.” And no more cinnamon rolls for me. “What are you doing right now?”
He clears his throat the way I did when I was lying. “Lying in bed. Touching my dick and thinking of you.”
I frown. “Why are you always so crass? How am I supposed to pretend talking to you is okay and innocent when you insist on being so rude?”
“Because I’ve waited a long time for you. I’m not like Shane. I won’t stand by and watch you slip through my fingers. It does me no harm to make sure you know what I’m thinking. But if you didn’t know…” He lets out a gusty sigh. “Not letting you slip away.”
Despite the fact I’m laying down, my shoulders still manage to droop. “I can’t be with you. I’m promised to someone else. To a better family.”
“Better than mine?”
“Truthfully?” I pause to consider his family, though there isn’t much to think about. It’s almost like he’s here all alone.
I don’t know who his folks are. I don’t know if he has brothers and sisters. I don’t know anything about him, except his name is Bryan Kincaid, he moved here three years ago with whatever he had in his Mustang, he bumped into me on my first day of sophomore year, and since then, he’s been nibbling on my ears, talking dirty, and fueling my wet dreams. Not once has he cared that I had a boyfriend. “Yes.”
“If you became my family, you’d up my image. Make my family name worth something again.”
I laugh softly. “You proposing marriage, Bryan? Because I get the feeling you’re more of a ‘fuck ‘em and run’ kinda guy. My daddy will kill me if I toss Shane over for you.”
“You care about money over passion?”
“No, I mean my daddy would literally kill me. I’m choosing life over death. I’m choosing to keep my brains in my head, rather than splattered over my bedroom wall.”
Displeasure rumbles through the phone. “Come to me next week. On your birthday. I’ll take care of the rest.”
He thinks I’m a fool. “You wanna seduce me when I’m legal, you think that’ll keep you outta jail for screwing a minor?”
He scoffs. “No, I just don’t want you to jump when your daddy still has the power to yank you back. I’m choosing life for you too, Bert. I’m choosing a long and happy life for you… with me.”
Knowing my five minutes are long over, knowing I’m racking up the bill and will cop a flogging when the mail comes in this time next month, I listen out for Daddy’s deep snoring, and when I hear him clearly from the couch, I turn further into the mattress with a smile. “Bryan?”
“Mm?”
“Why do you call me Bert?”
Like my change of tone took him by surprise, he makes noises of hesitation. “Oh, um. I figured it was obvious. Your last name is Robertson. Robert. Bert.” It’s like I can hear his shrug. “Bert. No one else calls you