Andrew—up to a point.
“Yes, really,” I said at last. I snatched the remote from my desktop and aimed it at my stereo. Music blared to life from the speakers mounted in the corners of the room. The All-American Rejects, “Dirty Little Secret.” Frenetic, taunting tempo and all.
Figures.
Counting on the music to cover my voice, I turned my attention back to Andrew and exhaled slowly in anticipation of a very awkward conversation. “I was thinking that I should have tried harder to get in touch with you in June.”
“How right you are. Fortunately, you’re going to have the opportunity to make that up to me. Soon.”
What? My pulse spiked. No. He was coming to see me.
Andrew couldn’t come to the ranch. There was no possible way for a meeting between him and Marc to go well. Or even a meeting between him and my father, who also assumed my human indiscretion to be a thing of the past.
“What does that mean?” I asked, my voice soft with horror I couldn’t quite disguise, but he only laughed. “Andrew, how do you want me to make it up to you? You want to talk? We can talk. Let me explain what happened.” One version of it, anyway…
He snorted. He actually snorted into my ear. “Oh, let me guess. It’s not me, it’s you. I just don’t fit into your life anymore, right?” The bitterness in his voice stung.
“It’s not like that.” But it was. It was exactly like that—in no way he could possibly understand.
“Oh? What is it, then? Your parents? You’re scared to introduce me to your parents?” I started to answer, but he spoke over my protest. “They don’t even know about me, do they? You never told them.” His accusation was sharp and pointed. But this time he was wrong.
“Of course I did.” My words came out rushed; I was eager for something legitimate to deny. “They know.” Did he honestly think my parents thought I was a virgin? That I was afraid to tell them I’d gone off to college and had sex? Sure, my mother looked like she belonged in a fifties sitcom, but my parents were neither stupid nor naive. Which was no doubt one of the reasons they’d sent the guys to watch over me.
“You told them?” He didn’t believe me; that much was obvious. “And they’re okay with it?”
I shrugged, though he couldn’t see the motion. “Well, I doubt they’re thrilled by it.” They were no more pleased with my perceived promiscuity than any parents would be. But their real problem was not that I’d let a guy into my bed, but that I’d let a human guy into my bed. A guy I could have no future with, who could never marry me and give them grandchildren.
None of which I could tell Andrew, naturally.
“You’re lying,” Andrew shouted into the phone, and I could actually hear his teeth grinding together as he spoke through them. “You’re fucking lying, and we damn well know it.”
“We?” I frowned in confusion. “Who’s w—”
“You didn’t tell them about me. You didn’t tell your family any more than you told him. ”
“Andrew…” On the radio, the All-American Rejects gave way to an announcer rambling on about the weather and the traffic, and I lowered my voice, hoping no one would walkby my room before the next song came on. “Andrew, what the hell are you talking about?”
“You owe me, Faythe. I know where you are, and I know who you’re with. And when the time comes, that won’t make one fucking bit of difference. He won’t be able to prote—”
Another voice barked in the background, pounding through Andrew’s fury like a hammer through a block of ice—quick and violent. And effective. I couldn’t make out what he said, and before I had a chance to think about it, Andrew was back. “I’ll see you soon, Faythe. Tell Marc I’ll see him, too. I think he and I have a lot to talk about.”
Oh, no. Oh hell no. Alarm shot through my limbs and I stood so fast my chair fell over on the carpet in front of me. “Andrew!” I whispered into the phone,
“Yes, really,” I said at last. I snatched the remote from my desktop and aimed it at my stereo. Music blared to life from the speakers mounted in the corners of the room. The All-American Rejects, “Dirty Little Secret.” Frenetic, taunting tempo and all.
Figures.
Counting on the music to cover my voice, I turned my attention back to Andrew and exhaled slowly in anticipation of a very awkward conversation. “I was thinking that I should have tried harder to get in touch with you in June.”
“How right you are. Fortunately, you’re going to have the opportunity to make that up to me. Soon.”
What? My pulse spiked. No. He was coming to see me.
Andrew couldn’t come to the ranch. There was no possible way for a meeting between him and Marc to go well. Or even a meeting between him and my father, who also assumed my human indiscretion to be a thing of the past.
“What does that mean?” I asked, my voice soft with horror I couldn’t quite disguise, but he only laughed. “Andrew, how do you want me to make it up to you? You want to talk? We can talk. Let me explain what happened.” One version of it, anyway…
He snorted. He actually snorted into my ear. “Oh, let me guess. It’s not me, it’s you. I just don’t fit into your life anymore, right?” The bitterness in his voice stung.
“It’s not like that.” But it was. It was exactly like that—in no way he could possibly understand.
“Oh? What is it, then? Your parents? You’re scared to introduce me to your parents?” I started to answer, but he spoke over my protest. “They don’t even know about me, do they? You never told them.” His accusation was sharp and pointed. But this time he was wrong.
“Of course I did.” My words came out rushed; I was eager for something legitimate to deny. “They know.” Did he honestly think my parents thought I was a virgin? That I was afraid to tell them I’d gone off to college and had sex? Sure, my mother looked like she belonged in a fifties sitcom, but my parents were neither stupid nor naive. Which was no doubt one of the reasons they’d sent the guys to watch over me.
“You told them?” He didn’t believe me; that much was obvious. “And they’re okay with it?”
I shrugged, though he couldn’t see the motion. “Well, I doubt they’re thrilled by it.” They were no more pleased with my perceived promiscuity than any parents would be. But their real problem was not that I’d let a guy into my bed, but that I’d let a human guy into my bed. A guy I could have no future with, who could never marry me and give them grandchildren.
None of which I could tell Andrew, naturally.
“You’re lying,” Andrew shouted into the phone, and I could actually hear his teeth grinding together as he spoke through them. “You’re fucking lying, and we damn well know it.”
“We?” I frowned in confusion. “Who’s w—”
“You didn’t tell them about me. You didn’t tell your family any more than you told him. ”
“Andrew…” On the radio, the All-American Rejects gave way to an announcer rambling on about the weather and the traffic, and I lowered my voice, hoping no one would walkby my room before the next song came on. “Andrew, what the hell are you talking about?”
“You owe me, Faythe. I know where you are, and I know who you’re with. And when the time comes, that won’t make one fucking bit of difference. He won’t be able to prote—”
Another voice barked in the background, pounding through Andrew’s fury like a hammer through a block of ice—quick and violent. And effective. I couldn’t make out what he said, and before I had a chance to think about it, Andrew was back. “I’ll see you soon, Faythe. Tell Marc I’ll see him, too. I think he and I have a lot to talk about.”
Oh, no. Oh hell no. Alarm shot through my limbs and I stood so fast my chair fell over on the carpet in front of me. “Andrew!” I whispered into the phone,
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