A Dose of Pretty Poison: Chapter 18
Driving back to my house, I know I’m in for it. I played it off like my mom catching us was no big deal, but that’s only because Laiken looked like she was on the verge of a damn breakdown. I couldn’t leave her like that for the rest of the day.
Her sleeping over was not in the plans. I had every intention of waking her up when the movie was over. But then I fell asleep. And as much as I hate to admit it—it was one of the best nights of sleep I’ve ever had.
I pull into my driveway and climb out of my truck, taking a deep breath to prepare for the impending interrogation. If I had known it was her that came home, I would’ve snuck Laiken out my window. But hindsight is 20/20, and all I can do now is rip the Band-Aid off.
Walking into the house, I find my mom sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee clutched in her hands. I go over to the fridge and grab a beer, knowing I’ll need it for this conversation, but I should’ve known she would never allow that.
“Boy, it is ten in the morning,” she says with an incredulous look.
“Which makes it five o’clock in Italy,” I joke, but her pressed-together lips tells me she’s not amused.
She cocks a single brow at me. “Put it back.”
Thank God Laiken isn’t here to see this. Watching me get bossed around by my mother is something she would never let me live down. I can only imagine the commentary she would provide to the situation.
Note to self: don’t let them in the same room for longer than a few minutes.
I put the beer back and switch it out with a Red Bull, which still doesn’t make her happy, but she knows to pick her battles. As I crack it open and bring it to my lips, she sighs.
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
I act coy. “Destroying my insides?”
My mom stares back at me, her eyes like laser beams. “Hayes Beckett.”
I cringe at the way she uses my middle name. Putting the Red Bull on the counter behind me, I sigh heavily.
“We’re just having fun, Mom.”
“Does she know that?”
My first instinct is to say yes. I told her as much the first night I threw caution to the wind. But something holds me back. I clamp my mouth shut as last night replays in my mind, followed by this morning, when she was able to convince me to go with her to the concert.
Fuck. That’s a date, isn’t it?
When I don’t respond, my mom stands up and brings her empty mug over to the sink. “Don’t play with her feelings, H. That girl deserves more than that.”
I hum, knowing she’s right. The topic of what Laiken deserves is one I think about often. She may want me, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t deserve a whole hell of a lot better. She does. But for her to realize that I would have to resist her, and I can’t do that.
I’ve tried.
“What are you doing home, anyway?” I ask. “You always sleep at the hospital before driving.”
She chuckles. “I was able to nap for a few hours during my shift. But I’ll give you the heads up next time so you can sneak Laiken out before I get home.”
“You’re fucking Laiken?” Devin’s voice booms through the room.
Motherfucker! “A little louder, Dev. I don’t think the entire town heard you.”
“You know, I should,” she claps back. “Maybe one of them can smack some sense into you.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, fuck off. What are you even doing here, anyway? I thought you weren’t coming home until later.”
“Plans change,” she says as she waves off the topic. “But forget about that. Laiken? Seriously?”
“Leave it alone, Dev,” I growl, clenching my jaw.
She clearly doesn’t want to, but she agrees anyway. “Fine, but promise me one thing.”
“What?”
A devious smirk crosses her face. “You’ll let me watch when Cam kills you.”
“Ooh,” Mom chimes in. “Record it.”
This little comedy duo is getting old. “Ay!”
“What?” she asks innocently. “I’ll need something to remember you by.”
Flipping them both off, I walk away and head straight for my room. I fully intend to go back to bed until I have to wake up for work. Early mornings are just not my thing, especially when they’re filled with Mom and Devin getting on my case.
I shut the door behind me and flop face first onto my bed. But as I get comfortable and breathe in, I realize the smell of Laiken’s shampoo still lingers on my pillow.
It relaxes me more than I’d like to admit.
TRESPASSING IS NEVER A good idea. It’s illegal. No joke—there’s actually a law on being somewhere without permission, even if all you did was drive past a few signs that warn you not to. But when Laiken showed up at my job and told me she wanted to take me somewhere after work, I didn’t hesitate.
We lie on the grassy hill at the end of the runway, watching as the planes take off and land, flying right above us. The sun starts to set in the distance, but as sappy as it may be, the view beside me is better.
“Okay, I’ve got one,” she chuckles. “Would you rather surf naked with a shark, or have all your fingers get frostbite?”
Easy. “Frostbite.”
Her eyes widen. “It’s surfing with a shark, not getting eaten by one.”
“I don’t care,” I reply, not changing my mind. “I’d rather lose my fingers than risk losing my dick. It’s more important.”
She smirks. “Clearly you haven’t felt what your fingers can do.”
“You’d be fine. My tongue isn’t in jeopardy.”
Her head falls to the side, and she whines. “That’s just cruel. You can’t remind me of that when we can’t do anything.”
Right. Her period. The tangent she went on this morning about how only she would end up getting it the day before her birthday, taking away her right to birthday sex, was adorable. The texts kept pouring in, and every time I went to respond to one, there would be another.
I ended up just waiting until she was done before answering.
“Who says we can’t do anything?” I question, rolling onto my side to face her.
“Oh, I don’t know. The fact that we’re out in the open, and already trespassing.”
Leaning down, I suck on her bottom lip. “Exactly. We’re already breaking the rules. What’s one more?”
I slide my hand down her stomach and dip the tip of my pinky beneath the waistband of her shorts. The look in her eyes tells me she’s considering it. I kiss her slowly and she breathes out a moan.
“What about the passengers on the planes?” she questions. “They’ll see us.”
Humming against her mouth, I slide my hand further south. “Then let’s give them a show.”
The moment my fingers graze her clit, she exhales and arches against me. I press my lips to hers as I rub her in a circular motion, slow and with just the right amount of pressure—exactly how she likes it. Her period must make her more sensitive, because with each second that passes, she starts to get more vocal.
She reaches down and grabs my wrist, holding it in place as if I’m going to take it away at the last minute. It’s so fucking hot, the way she grinds herself against my hand, using me to get herself off.
It’s so goddamn hot.
The sound of sticks cracking catches my attention, and I break the kiss for a second. Laiken whimpers, lifting her head to try to reconnect our mouths, but that’s not going to happen.
Not when there are two cops standing ten feet away from us.
“All right,” the one says. “Show us your hands.”
Laiken whines, not thinking clearly from being wrapped up in her impending orgasm. “Does he have to? It’s a little occupied at the moment.”
Unable to help myself, I drop my head onto her shoulder and laugh. “Babe, it’s the cops.”
“Oh,” she says, her mouth forming into a circle. “Well, shit.”
Slowly and carefully, I slip my hand from her shorts and the two of us stand up. Laiken looks away as she spots the two officers, but I have nothing to be ashamed of.
If they had someone who looks like her, they wouldn’t be able to get enough either.
She’s the best kind of drug.
“What can we do for you, officers?”
They share a glance at each other. “Well, for starters, you’re on private property.”
Laiken feigns innocence. “Are we really? Wow. I’m so sorry about that. We’ll see ourselves out right now.”
She starts walking toward my truck when one of the cops stops her with his hand on her arm. “Not so fast. Let me see your ID.” He nods toward me. “You too, son.”
I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and hand over my license, while Laiken puts her hands on her hips. “Look at me. What makes you think I have my ID on me?”
Smirking, my eyes rake over her, and I realize she has a point. The girl is in a crop top and a pair of tiny shorts. Unless he thought she was hiding it in her bra, it’s clear the only thing on her is her phone.
“Ma’am, the attitude is unnecessary.”
“You interrupting my orgasm was unnecessary, sir,” she spits back.
Her being a bitch in the name of sexual gratification should not be nearly as attractive as it is. I know we haven’t been able to get enough of each other lately, but goddamn. I created a monster, and I fucking love it.
Officer Oblivious, on the other hand, is not impressed.
“All right,” he says, taking out his handcuffs. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” she argues.
“You’re trespassing. That alone is enough for me to detain you until we figure out what’s going on here.”
He grabs her arm and turns her around, taking out his handcuffs. I take a step toward them. I want to be close enough to help her if needed, but getting in a fight with the police is something I’d like to avoid if possible.
Laiken scoffs and lets him handcuff her without issue, but that doesn’t mean she’s going easy on him.
“Oh,” she squeals as he starts to pat her down. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. My boyfriend’s name is Bubba, and he tends to get a little possessive.”
The officer glances at me. “I take it you’re Bubba?”
“No,” I answer through a laugh.
Every time she opens her mouth, the guy seems to turn a little more red in the face. Meanwhile, his partner is trying not to laugh.
“You’re the risk-taking type,” Laiken says when she continues to be searched. “I like it.”
“Ma’am,” he growls, exasperated. “Please just let me do my job.”
She smirks. “Okay, but you should know, my safe word is prune juice.”
Yeah, nope. No way I can hold back from laughing at that one. And apparently, neither can the other cop—though he does make a solid effort. When it forces its way through, his partner glares at him.
“What are you doing?” He nods his head over toward me. “Cuff him, too.”
Laiken’s grin widens. “Aw, you get a pair of bracelets too!” She focuses on the cop again. “Do we get to keep these? A little souvenir, maybe?”
“What do you—” he starts, but then he sees the way she bounces her eyebrows. “On second thought, how about you just give me your name since you don’t have your ID? And before you answer, you should know that giving a false name to the police is a crime.”
Her bottom lip juts out as she pouts. “Fine. Laiken Blanchard.”
He writes that down, along with her date of birth. Though, he doesn’t seem to care for the way his partner wishes her a happy early birthday. Once he has all the information, they walk us over and sit us in the back of the car.
“Wait here while we run your information,” he tells us. “Make sure you are who you say you are, and that neither of you have any outstanding warrants.”
Just as he goes to shut the door, Laiken stops him. “Wait!”
He huffs and looks at her expectantly. “Could you uncuff him so he can finish what you fine gentleman interrupted?”
My head falls back against the seat as I laugh loudly, but he doesn’t find it so funny. His jaw tenses and he slams the door shut, muttering to himself as he walks away.
“He secretly loves me,” she says. “It may not seem like it now, but we’re going to be the best of friends.”
“Oh are you now?”
Her head tilts from side to side. “It’s either that, or we get arrested and Cam slaughters us both.”
“We won’t get arrested,” I say, certain of it.
“How do you know?”
“Because we didn’t do anything except trespass. It’s not an arrestable offense,” I explain. “And even if it was, he would let us go simply because he doesn’t want to deal with you for as long as it would take to book us.”
She squints and hums. “I don’t know. We’re in handcuffs in the back of a cop car. That qualifies as being arrested.”
“It doesn’t.”
“It does!” She frowns. “Stop taking away my ability to say that I’ve been arrested. It’s such a buzzkill.”
I bark out a laugh. “Why do you want to be able to say you’ve been arrested?”
“It sounds badass,” she answers, DUH written all over her face. “Anyway, it’s your turn.”
My turn?
Oh! Right. We were playing a game that seems to blur the lines between would you rather, truth or dare, and marry fuck kill. Basically, just shoot questions and scenarios at each other.
“Okay, I’ve got one,” I begin. “Marry, fuck, kill. Owen, Isaac, and Aiden.”
I considered making Lucas an option, but there’s no chance of her killing him off, and I don’t want to hear her say that she would marry or fuck him. Not when he’s so eager to do either.
She snorts. “That’s easy. Marry Aiden. Fuck Owen. Kill Isaac.”
My jaw drops. “Aiden? Seriously?”
“Yeah. He’s a few fries short of a happy meal. I could use that to my advantage.” Damn, she thought that through fast. “Plus, the alternative was marrying Owen. I’d sooner marry you.”
The way she says it, as if marrying me is an outrageous thought—it hits me in all the wrong places. Not that it would ever happen. The whole white-picket-fence lifestyle isn’t in the cards for me. But goddamn, I didn’t know bullets flew inside of police cars.
“Go ahead, Rochester,” I tell her. “Sound a little more repulsed at that idea.”
She giggles, looking away as she tries moving to get more comfortable. “You’re so easy to fuck with sometimes.”
I don’t know what’s worse—that I just played right into her hand, or the relief that floods through me when I realize she was kidding. Meanwhile, Laiken smiles like the cat that caught the fucking canary.
“Whatever,” I grumble. “It’s your turn.”
Her nose scrunches as she thinks. “Truth or dare?”
I cock a brow at her. “Uh, being as we’re locked in the back of a car with handcuffs on, I think dares will be a little difficult. Nor do I trust you enough to pick it right now. So, truth.”
“You’re no fun.”
Ha. “Even you know that’s a lie.”
She looks as if she wants to argue it, but she knows better. It would most likely end up with the two of us getting sexually frustrated back here.
Thinking hard about it, she finally comes up with a question. “What’s your dream job?”
I have to say, I thought it was going to be a lot more X-rated than that. Or a smart ass question. That would have been on par too. But not this.
Still, the answer has been the same since I was fourteen years old. “I want to own a bar.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” I shrug, as much as I can while handcuffed. “Not like one of the places drunks hang out at all day instead of taking care of their shit. More like the kind of bar people our age would want to hang out at, with surfer decor and live music.”
She sits there patiently, listening as I talk with a small smile splayed across her face. “That’s amazing. Have you looked into the semantics of it all?”
“On and off,” I reply. “But it’s all not cheap, so for now, it stays a dream.”
It goes quiet for a moment, but it’s my turn to go anyway.
“What about you? What’s your dream?”
Laiken doesn’t miss a beat. “Rob a bank.”
I choke on air, needing to clear my throat. “Well damn, Shawshank. Get borderline arrested one time and you suddenly become a career criminal?”
She hums. “On second thought, I don’t like pussy enough for prison.”
What she doesn’t know is that she’s too pretty. She would most likely be the one getting instead of giving, but there’s no way I’m telling her that. She doesn’t need to be enticed to go to jail.
Before I can come up with a response, Pissy the Po-Po opens the door to let us out.
“All right,” he says curtly. “You’re free to go. But if we ever find you here again, you will be arrested.”
Laiken turns to me with wide eyes, and I shake my head.
“You don’t like pussy enough, remember?” I tell her.
She sighs, pouting like a child. “Fine.”
My cuffs are removed first, but when he goes to take off Laiken’s, she spins to face him so he can’t.
“Any chance I can keep them on?” He stares back at her blankly. “What? It’s on my fuck-it list.”
Fuck-it list?
“Fine,” he agrees. “You can keep them on.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s policy to stay handcuffed while we take you down to the station and get you processed.”
Her brows raise and she spins once more so he can reach the cuffs. “On second thought, they’re hurting my wrists. Better take them off.”
He grins smugly, finally getting one over on her. Once he removes them, he slips them back into their holster. The other officer comes over and hands each of us our belongings.
“Oh, Mali texted me,” she exclaims, then straightens up. “Hey, Copper Dude. Are you single? Because my friend Mali would be perfect for you.”
“Ignore her. We’re going.” I put my arm around her and start leading her to my truck. “Are you crazy? Mali would kill you.”
She smiles giddily. “I know, but imagine how funny it would be to watch.”
A breathy laugh leaves my mouth as I shake my head. “It’s all fun and games until Mali gets arrested.”
We both climb into the truck, and I put the key into the ignition. As it roars to life—clearly with an exhaust that is louder than allowed—I check the rearview mirror to see the officers’ reactions. They share a glance, but as the one goes to step toward my truck, Pissy stops him.
Good job, Shawshank.
I put it in drive and pull away, looking over at Laiken just as we turn onto the road.
“So, about that fuck-it list…”
DROPPING HER OFF AT her house is risky. All it would take is Cam deciding to go somewhere and—depending on which way he turns—he would see us together. But Mali had plans tonight, and if Laiken’s car was at her house, Mali’s parents would have questions.
Questions we don’t really know how to answer.
So, the best thing to do was to have Laiken drive home so she could leave her car there. Mali picked her up and dropped her back off at the surf shop just as I was getting off work.
It’s a good thing she knows about us, because this would all be much more difficult without her.
I pull over a couple houses down, knowing her best bet is to walk the rest of the way. Both her parents and her brother would recognize the sound of my truck if I turned into their driveway. And again—questions we don’t have answers to.
“Today was fun,” she says. “You know, other than getting arrested.”
I try to look annoyed, but I fail, miserably. “Yes, Rochester. You’re such a badass.”
The smug grin on her face and the way she leans over to kiss me goodbye shouldn’t have the effect on me that it does. It shouldn’t make my heart jump, wanting to break through my rib cage and throw itself at her feet. It shouldn’t make my stomach hurt knowing I won’t see her until her party tomorrow, and even then, we have to play it safe.
And yet, here we are.
“Text me when you get home,” she tells me, and it’s not up for debate.
Thing is, I don’t need to be told. I would’ve done it anyway; I can’t help myself. Not when it comes to her.
“I will,” I promise.
She opens the door but turns around to kiss me once more. I wrap my hand around the back of her neck to keep her there just a little longer. It’s soft. Slow. The epitome of a kiss a couple would share before one of them is gone for a while, even though neither of us is going anywhere. And when she pulls away, I feel it throughout my entire body.
“Night, H,” she says, climbing out of the truck.
“Goodnight, baby.”
But the last part comes out silently, my voice cracking to keep from giving myself away, because nothing has changed. This—the sneaking around and the stolen kisses when no one is watching—is all this can ever be.
I know this more than I know anything else.
It’s just…for the first time, I’m starting to realize I won’t make it out of this unscathed.