Page 14 of Grip Me Tight
Emma side-eyes me with a wry smile. “Don’t you know a mother never stops worrying? I’m going to worry about the three of you forever.”
I put my arm around her in a half hug, conscious of the way she casually included me in the grouping of her children. I hadn’t been sensitive to those comments for years, but something about being here is rubbing at me like the itchy tag in a sweater. “You never have to worry about me.”
“Well, I do. You and Noah out in the world of sex, drugs and rock and roll. It’s enough to give me gray hair.” She patted her perfect, blonde hair. “And speaking of Sterling, have you seen her?”
I heave an internal sigh. Of course, we’re back to talking about Sterling. I can’t get away from Sterling and maybe that’s the discomfort I’m feeling about being here. I can’t forget the last time I was here with her. I nod in the direction of the garden. “Yeah, she was here not too long ago. She went that way.” I point to the path over by the pool house that leads down to the lake.
Don opens the door. “Em, can you help me find those campfire skewers?”
“Uh, sure. Give me a second.” She stands, looking out into the garden, then back at Don. “Tanner, can you do me a favor and go check on Sterling?” She smiles at me. “Please? I was looking for her earlier, but she keeps rushing off somewhere.”
The last thing I need is to chase Sterling down. I’m been trying to avoid her, after all. My hesitancy must be written all over my face because Emma elbows me.
“Don’t be so lazy. Besides, I’m a little worried about her. She’s glued to her phone and every time ours rings, she gets this panicked look on her face. I hope nothing’s wrong.”
Great. Now I have to track Sterling down. If only to find out whether Emma is right, and something really is bothering her. I know how I feel every time my phone pings now, that funny dread in the pit of my stomach, even though I have no clue who it is.
I stand, stretching, and put my glass down on a nearby tray. My heart speeds up and I tell myself it’s not because I’m about to follow Sterling. I feel like I’ve followed her for years. First down the path that first time, five years ago, and since then devouring her social media accounts like some creepy stalker. How can I want this woman so much – my best friend’s sister, a woman who by all accounts is practically my foster sister?
I wave to Blaine as I pass the campfire and he holds up a tree branch covered in marshmallows. I guess this is why Don was looking for those campfire skewers. Everyone is having a wonderful time. And I would be too if I could stop thinking about Sterling. I love being here, seeing the guys let loose in a way that isn’t the hardcore rock scene. The past year has been a real struggle for us. And I get that there isn’t a lot of sympathy for that either. Poor little rich boys, being handed everything they could ever ask for. But the lifestyle does something to you and once you start down the path… at first, it’s the forbidden, a little scary, that unknown darkness, but it’s seductive, and each person’s seduction is so individual. It could be the appeal resembles the warm darkness of a soft blanket, a quiet slipping into nothingness. Or it could be the opposite, a craving for lights and sounds and frantic energy that drives a person up and up and up until you never want to come down. I watched my mother for years, trading her highs and lows to reach that perfect combination she desperately sought. And I swore it would never be me.
But here I am literally on a dark path, probably one leading to my destruction. Solar lanterns mark the gravel walkway down to the dock. I’m surprised there aren’t more people down here, but there’s so much going on back up in the garden and with night closing in, the fireworks will be happening soon. My feet crunch over the small rocks and I hope I meet Sterling coming back up the path, but as I get closer, I can hear her telling someone to stop and a man’s voice rising in anger. Rage sparks like a lightning bolt, tightening my muscles, and I break into a jog, skidding to a stop in the clearing when Sterling’s wide eyes meet mine in the falling darkness. She’s sitting on a rock, knees tucked up to her chest, holding her phone in front of her. There’s no one else around, but she must have the phone on speaker because I can hear some asshole berating her for not taking his calls earlier.
This must be Jake the Jerk.
Sterling’s gaze is locked on mine. “Jake. I have to go.”
“Not until we finish this conversation. Didn’t you hear me when I said I was sorry?”
“I heard you and I’m saying fine. You’re sorry. But it doesn’t change anything.”
“You’re making a huge mistake, Sterling. You’ll regret this.”
The threat in his tone is clear and my relief at not finding anyone with her instantly turns to white-hot rage. A growl escapes me and Sterling’s jaw drops. “Give me the phone,” I bite out.
“Who the fuck is that?” Jake snarls from the phone. The guy is lucky he’s miles away. I stride to where Sterling is sitting, her brows drawn as she frowns up at me.
“No one,” she waves me away.
No one?Is that what she thinks? It certainly wasn’t five years ago. I can hear the loser sputtering through the phone, even though she’s taken it off speaker and has it pressed to her ear. Her shoulders are hunched as she whispers frantically about having to go and not to keep calling her. My ears perk up. Has this asshole been harassing her? I struggle between wanting to step towards her, grab the phone and tell the guy how I’ll slowly and painfully pull his ribs through his ripped skin if he ever dares to raise his voice to Sterling again and wanting to run up the path and pretend I never heard the tremor in her voice as she begs the asshole to leave her alone.Begs!Sterling should never have to beg for anything, ever in her life. This guy should be crawling, groveling, thankful he got to breathe the same air as her for a period of time, not treating her like this.
“God!” Her exasperated cry snaps me out of it, just as I watch her stab her finger onto the screen of her phone and then quickly shut the phone down completely when it starts to vibrate in her hand again.
She heaves a sigh, pulling her knees up to her chest, her back to me. Her hair shimmers in the darkness, the light picking out the different shades in her hair. She is ethereal, like she’s made of moonlight. I need to get away from her before I do something supremely dumb like admit how often I stalk her Instagram, desperate for a hint of her smile.
My feet are rooted to the ground when I hear her sniffle. She’s not crying over that douche-canoe is she? I tear my eyes away from the curve of her back, the little strip of bare skin between the waistband of her shorts and her thin t-shirt tempting me to tickle her, to feel her shiver against me.
Just like five years ago.
“Can you just go away?” she says, quietly.
“No, I can’t.”
She turns her head, looking at me over her shoulder. “Why not?”
I want to tell her that, as always, her pain is like a stone around my neck. I can’t move, my heart beating faster, at this weird connection I’ve always felt with her, for her. “Your mom asked me to check on you.”
Sterling stares at me before rolling her eyes and turning away. “Well, I’m fine, so you can tell her you’ve done your duty.”
