Over the Fence Box Set Read online

  Just as I finish applying some ChapStick, Owen’s knock sounds on my door. “Come on in.”

  He opens it as I set the tube back on the dresser and I have to remind myself to breathe when I turn to him.

  White board shorts hang low on his narrowed hips, and I can see the V-shaped muscles indenting the sides of his abs. His stomach muscles tense under my stare and his skin, the color of buttery leather, looks like silk stretched across steel.

  A white short-sleeve cabana style shirt hangs open on his frame. His thick arms are crossed in front of his chest, the white material of his sleeves stretched tight across his bulging biceps.

  His college baseball hat makes his hair fan out to frame his face. When I bring my attention, finally, to his face, his eyes have turned a stormy dark blue, a wolfish grin spreading across his full lips.

  “Are you done? I’d like to take a walk this century.”

  I laugh, realizing I have been openly gawking at him. “Yes, let me just grab my sandals.”

  I bend down to retrieve them by the nightstand and am horrified when I see what is sitting just in front of my face. Jesus, please just this once, don’t let him be so observant.

  “What are those?” Too late. Owen has definitely seen the box of condoms. I can tell by the curious, smug expression with which he asks his rhetorical question.

  “Nothing. I … I didn’t put them in there.”

  “Sure, you didn’t," he teases. “Let’s go, Miss Prepared.”

  I huff as I follow him out. I am going to kill those two.

  19

  Owen

  Sea-foam dots the shoreline, tracing an invisible path that we walk along at a lazy pace.

  Minka’s sandals come off the minute we exit my house, I tell her to leave them by the hot tub, that she won’t need them.

  Now she digs her toes into the sand, her turquoise painted nails peeking out every so often. Her curls are loose and windblown and the dress she slipped on hugs her amazing curves as the ocean air blows through it. I have never seen a more beautiful thing in my life. It almost hurts to look at her.

  I lace our fingers together, smiling warmly at her when she glances up at me through her lashes.

  “So … you never answered my question in the truck.”

  Shit, this again. I needed to play this off. “What question?”

  “I asked you about the situation with your dad. Don’t play dumb with me, Axel.” She already knows me too well.

  “All right … all right. My mom asked me to have a talk with him, said I didn’t know the entire story. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.” I lean down to pick up a shell, running the smooth ripples through my finger. “The thing is, being back here … it brings back so many good memories of me and him together. We would play ping pong, he taught me how to surf, and I’d help him grill. There isn’t one bad memory here. But does that replace all the negative shit that has gone in the past couple of years?”

  Her big brown eyes fill with understanding. “It can’t replace it, but it can help you find the answers you’re looking for. I think … that if you’re so confused, you should sit down with him. Hear him out.”

  “This coming from the girl who told me to ‘fuck what he thought,’ the last time we had this conversation?”

  “I remember what I said, but I was in a different place even then.” She stares out onto the water, as if the answer to all life’s problems can be found there. “Take this from someone who not only lost a parent but never got to know them. If you don’t take this chance to hash it out with him, you will regret it forever. No matter if the talk goes well or if it ends terribly, you can walk away knowing in your heart that you tried.”

  I motion for her to sit in the sand with me and am impressed when she plops right down, not even once complaining about dirtying up her dress. We sit side by side, elbows resting on our knees, facing out toward the sea as the sun, lowering out on the horizon, paints the sky pink and orange.

  “You’re right, I have to try,” I say quietly, more to myself than to her.

  I feel her small hand squeeze my arm in a sign of reassurance.

  “Can I ask you a question now? Is my turn in the hot seat over?”

  “Sure …” she replies cautiously.

  “Why did you really bring those condoms with you?”

  Minka huffs out a breath. “I told you, I really didn’t pack them. My friends must have planted them in there as a joke.”

  “Did you think I expected sex for bringing you out here?” It’s a reality I feared ever since I asked her to come here with me. I don’t want her to think she owes me a thing and I don’t want to pressure her into something she doesn’t want to do. “Because I don’t, at all. I want you to experience that, preferably with me, but only when you feel you’re ready. I would never, ever pressure you.”

  “Wait … Owen, I’m not a virgin.”

  Her answer slaps me across the face and then makes it burn with shame. Fuck, I shouldn’t have assumed that. Now I’ve made an ass out of myself and probably made her uncomfortable. And I’m also a tiny bit disappointed that someone has gotten to have that cherished gift of hers first.

  “I didn’t … I’m sorry. I just assumed … because you seemed so timid the first few times … and I … I’m sorry.”

  “I mean … I know it might be hard to imagine someone would want me in that way …” She shrugs her shoulders, dragging her fingers through the sand idly.

  “No, Minka, that’s not what I meant by that at all. Truly. I just … you said a couple of times that you weren’t as experienced and so I just thought … Jesus, I’m an idiot. Just forget I ever said anything.”

  An awkward silence passes between us as the sun descends further into the looming night sky.

  “We should head back before it gets too dark.” I hate myself for putting this kind of tension between us. She stills me with her hand as I go to get up.

  “I can, I can tell you about it. My first time. If you want to know.” Her voice sounds so small, fragile.

  I really don’t want to hear about it. Her with someone else. But this seems like a big step for her, by the way she’s breathing as if she’s about to unleash a giant secret. “I’d love to listen, to be here for you.”

  “I was a sophomore. I’d never been particularly popular. I hung on the outside rim of the in-crowd, mostly because of my two best friends. During the second week of school, this junior boy came up and introduced himself. I thought he was so cute and I was freaking out because he was actually talking to me. I’d never had that kind of attention before.” She smiles, but it’s not right. It looks more self-deprecating than anything.

  “Anyway, he asked me to hang out that weekend. He took me to the movies, bought me Twizzlers, put his arm around me and at the end of the night, gave me my first real kiss on the lips.” She pauses, a wane smile crossing her lips.

  “It went on like that for a while, he was really sweet and attentive. But then he’d start asking me to do things. Intimate things. Just a little here and there and not aggressively enough that I thought anything of it. I’d convinced myself that he was older and in order to be with him I needed to up my game. So I did. Things were usually all about him, but there were times that he pushed me a little too far, touched me somewhere that I wasn’t exactly comfortable with. But he was so sweet after those times that it made up for all of that.” She looks pained now, as if old wounds are being sliced open and exposed to the salty air. I want to comfort her, badly, but am hesitant to. I don’t want to spook her.

  “Winter Formal rolled around and he asked me to go with him. I was ecstatic. I’d never been asked to anything like that before. I was painstakingly thorough in getting ready. The right dress. The perfect shoes. I even paid to have my hair done. When he picked me up, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I pushed it aside, not wanting to ruin the night. Tons of kids drank at those things, right?”

  My blood singes in my veins, because I had
been one of those kids. I want to punch myself. This prick wasn’t good enough for her and neither was I.

  “The dance was fun enough, he seemed a little out of it, but I was there with him. Everyone knew who I was and knew we were unofficially a couple. I thought it was awesome. Afterward, there was this huge party at Jason Hinkley’s house.”

  I’d almost gone to that party, but Farris had thrown a seniors only get together that I’d ended up at instead.

  “When we got there, he kept drinking. I had one or two. He was sweet, hanging his arms around me, kissing me in front of everyone. When he asked me to go upstairs, I was nervous, but I just pushed past it. This was what high school was about, right?” She shrugs, clearly not believing her thought process.

  “Well, the whole sex thing was fairly awkward, it hurt most of the time and he didn’t pay much attention to my needs.”

  Fuckbag. Only the biggest of pussies got off without helping out their woman.

  “I thought, I’d done it, you know? At least it would get better from there. He was so nice the rest of the night, pumped up actually. And then … when I got to school Monday morning. He dumped me. In front of everyone.”

  Her voice cracks as she finishes that sentence. I ball my hands into fists until I can feel my nails breaking the skin. I’m suddenly so angry I don’t think I can hear the rest of her story.

  “Turns out I was a prize in some game. He told the whole school I was easy and anytime I saw him after that he’d cough some obscenity under his breath. Everyone did. I became the butt of the schoolwide joke for the next … well, I guess I still am.”

  I can’t see, my vision is so black with rage. This fucker was lucky enough to be with Minka, lucky enough that she gave him her virginity and he threw it back in her face. And all those people mocked her for it? I was ready to obliterate the world. “Who is he?”

  “Owen, it wouldn’t make a difference. Not now.” She sighs, resigning herself to her fate.

  “Who is he?”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. Right before I met you, actually, I decided to stop letting it matter. I’m not playing the victim anymore. I had a hand in what happened, I could have chosen not to push aside those red flags.”

  “Don’t you ever say that. None of that was your fault. Some asshole took this beautiful, innocent girl and used her. Used you. You don’t ever deserve that. Fuck all of those people, Minka.”

  She gives a weak smile. “So … that’s why I didn’t want to get to know you. In some ways, the situation is all too familiar. Older guy pursuing me, so persistent and charming—” She nudges me, trying to make me laugh at her joke, but I can’t find the humor in it.

  “I would never do that to you.”

  “I think I know that. Which is why I’m here with you.” She snuggles closer, putting her small arm around my back, comforting me. “But, Owen, don’t hurt me. I don’t think I could survive it again.”

  After we walked quietly back from the beach, I grilled up the salmon that Maria had stocked the fridge with. Minka put on some soft rock and pulled out two beers. I think she was trying to lighten the mood after our serious talks. It helped a little.

  We lie on the sofa in the living room; me flat on my back, her wedged between me and the back of the couch, wrapped around my body like a koala bear. I stroke her back absentmindedly while watching the baseball game lighting up the TV.

  Something has changed, shifted. Sure, I still want to have her naked and under me at pretty much all points of the day. But I have this strange need to fiercely protect her that wasn’t there before. I guess her father and I have that in common now.

  I need to keep her safe, destroy anything bad that comes into her life. I’m surprised to find that I’m seriously falling for this girl. Surprised, not because I don’t want to fall for her, that’s not it. It’s just that … I’ve never really felt this way before.

  But then again, I knew from the moment I met her that nothing with Minka was going to be similar to any other relationship I’ve ever had.

  “Are you excited?” Her random question pulls me out of my deep thoughts.

  “Huh?”

  “To go pro. To be one of these guys.” She flutters her hand toward the TV, where the camera has a close up of the pitcher waving of signals at his catcher.

  “Yeah … I think so. I’m not sure.”

  “You’re not sure? Isn’t it like a flight or fight response? You either have to have it, or you don’t.”

  “I guess. I just … I’ve always been good at baseball. It’s not something I’ve ever had to struggle at. I do love it, there is nothing compared to the feeling of standing on that mound, controlling all the players on the chessboard. But sometimes I think I’ll get there and think, ‘This is it?’”

  She yawns. “I guess you won’t know until you get there.”

  I glance at the clock, not realizing it’s already midnight. The game being on the West Coast had thrown me off.

  “All right, beautiful, I think it’s time for bed. We have to be up early, I’m teaching you to surf.”

  “Oh, yay! I’ve always wanted to try to surf.” She looks so cute in her sweatpants and tank top, cuddled up and her eyes are half-lidded because she’s so tired.

  I take her hand and walk her down the hallway to her room. Pausing outside the doorframe, I kiss her forehead. “This is where I leave you.”

  Her arms wrap around my waist and she looks like she wants to say something else. Instead, she presses up on her toes and kisses me lightly.

  Her soft, plump lips smooth over mine, coaxing them in a slow and sensual rhythm. I frame her face with my callused hands, rubbing my thumb across the velvet of her cheek. When she begins to breathe heavy groans into our kiss, I know I have to break it off. After everything tonight, I need to show her that I’m not just here for the physical stuff.

  “Good night, Minka.” I drop my hands from her face and pull her hands away from my body.

  “Oh, okay. Good night.” A tinge of something I can’t put my finger on lights in her eyes. It may be disappointment. Flashing one last smile, I mount the stairs to my room.

  Forcing myself to stay up there through the night is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

  20

  Minka

  We women are the absolute worst. I had been the one to tell Owen that I didn’t want to stay in his bed. I told him about how much Gregory had hurt me and used me. I’d been the one who tried to push him away from the beginning.

  So why in the world was I crushed when he essentially dropped me off at the bedroom door last night?

  Why did I lay in bed, not able to fall asleep until 2:30 a.m., cursing myself for ever telling him about Gregory? Thinking he probably wanted nothing to do with me now.

  Why did I debate, several times, not waiting for him to come to me and simply walk up to his room?

  This is why I avoid shit like this. It makes me crazy. It makes all women crazy. We turn into paranoid, question-asking monsters who can do nothing more than blow every situation out of proportion.

  Of course, everything with Owen today is completely fine. Good to know he hasn’t lost any sleep over it.

  Most of the morning and afternoon are spent down by the water, teaching me to surf. Which wasn’t as much of a disaster as I originally thought it would be. I even stood up two or three times.

  We capped the day off with an early dinner, Owen grilled steaks while I threw together my infamous pasta salad. We drank wine with dinner. The whole thing felt very adult, which both excited and scared me. I couldn’t help straying back to my earlier insecure thoughts that he would never stick around for an inexperienced high school chick.

  I’m bent over the second-floor balcony railing, staring out at the now descending sun dropping into the ocean, when Owen comes out from clearing the dishes. Instead of cradling my back against his front as he did yesterday, he stands beside me, just far enough away that we aren’t touching. I groan inward.
>
  He’s been like this all day. Friendly but not affectionate. If he did touch me it was quick, none of those lingering grazes or heated stares.

  I don’t need to be treated with kid gloves. If this is my summer fling, the only chance I was going to have with Owen, then I want my money’s worth. I steel my nerves and dive head first.

  “So … you were a great teacher today.”

  “Thanks. That’s actually … um, my major.”

  Wow, didn’t know that. Now that I do though, I can totally see it. And I can totally picture him, in his school appropriate button-down, grading papers … okay, snap out of it. That’s one fantasy we can maybe act out later.

  “You’d be great at that. But I’m wondering if maybe you had another lesson in you for today.”

  His eyes light up with interest. “And what did you have in mind?”

  “Well, I’ve never … I’ve never skinny-dipped before. And I thought maybe you could show me?”

  His baby blues liquefy into cobalt orbs and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. I feel a little parched myself. That ask took all of my courage and my breath, with it.

  “You … you want to go skinny dipping?” He nearly chokes.

  “I do.”

  “Okay, sure.”

  He clasps my hand in his large one and leads me to the outside stairs that connect the decks above and below us. When we come to the first floor, he pulls me across the wood expanse and down onto the grass. Of course, Owen’s house has a beautiful pool when the beach is just steps away.

  By now the sun had fully gone down, the only light guiding us is the half-moon hanging low in the sky. At the edge of the pool, Owen drops my hand.

  I’m unsure of what move to make next. My brain had only gone so far as to think through the initial ask.

  “So, first, you have to take off your clothes.” Owen stares at me greedily, but warmth sparks in his eyes. I know he must have a lot of pent-up lust in there. We’ve barely done more than cuddle and make out for two weeks.