Read Online Undertow by Elizabeth O'Roark - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth O'Roark
Ads: Link
suck.”
“What do you mean by ‘y’all’?” she scolded. “You’re one of us, remember? And your brother is playing on our side too.”
I ignored her. My side was whatever side Nate was on. I watched him, as always, with poorly contained lust, every moment ratcheting up my need until I felt like I’d explode with it by the time he got off the field.
When Ethan stepped up to bat, Nate seemed to tense, taking the game seriously for the first time all night. Ethan wasn’t halfway to first before Nate held the ball and had forced Ethan out.
But Ethan didn’t head back behind home plate immediately. Instead, he stood a few feet from Nate and said something none of us could hear. I knew, watching Nate’s face, that what he said was neither casual nor innocuous.
Ethan turned to walk away, while Nate’s face morphed quickly from shock to anger. In one long stride Nate had grabbed Ethan by the collar. Ethan seemed to expect it — he twisted out of Nate’s grasp, swinging. We heard the shouting but not the words, and watched as the entire infield ran over to pull them apart. By the time they got there Nate had Ethan on the ground.
The game ended then and there. Nate spoke to no one, but came straight to where I stood, grabbed my hand and pulled me away.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he muttered.
“Tell me,” I insisted.
He just shook his head.
He led me to the backside of the school where we couldn’t be seen. I hated the look on his face — so worried and sad as he turned and placed his palms against the wall on either side of my shoulders, caging me in.
“What’s wrong?” I pled.
He started to speak and then stopped himself. Instead his hand curled into my hair as he pulled me into him, and he kissed me hard, as if it were the last time. And my pleasure was tainted by the knowledge that whatever Ethan said had scared him. Scared him enough that he couldn’t even tell me what it was.
CHAPTER 12
“Oooh! Towels!” squeals Elise. She’s so good. She truly looks freaking overjoyed.
“Pass them around,” insists her mother. Fuck. The worst kind of shower. The kind where we’re all forced to craft new phrases of excitement for every single item she receives.
“Such a pretty color,” says Heather. Damn her. That’s what I was going to say.
“Silver-sage,” beams Elise. “It’s so weird because you’d think it’d be a green but it really looks kind of blue, doesn’t it? The bathroom walls are beige. I love blue and beige together.”
“They’re so soft,” purrs the girl beside me, as she places them in my hands.
Expectant, happy faces turn toward me. I draw a complete blank. “Nice,” I murmur, but I fail to sound appropriately enthused and the faces fall a little. My mother shoots me a look that tells me to pick up my game.
Elise is opening another gift. I grin, thinking of my conversation with Ethan. It’s a pan.
“Oh my gosh! The 3-quart saucepan!” she squeals. Holy. Fucking. Shit. I will never get married if it requires squealing like this over a 3-quart pan. Never. Of course, I don’t cook, so I have no clue what you even do with a 3-quart saucepan. Make sauce? How much sauce could you possibly need to make over the course of your life? Especially the women in this room. Have any of them ever made sauce? More likely, they’ve peeked into the kitchen while their staff made sauce.
“Oooh, feel the weight of this thing!” cries Kendall, as it begins to make the circuit. She’s good. They all are. All of them but me. I’m not sure what gene I failed to inherit, but I’m missing the one that will make me buzz with excitement about kitchen goods. And it hangs over my head like a dark cloud, one I know every woman in this room can see. It embarrasses my mother. She’s embarrassed by the fact that it’s not me getting married. She’s embarrassed that I don’t care. I think she’s even embarrassed by the fact that I’m going to law school instead of
“What do you mean by ‘y’all’?” she scolded. “You’re one of us, remember? And your brother is playing on our side too.”
I ignored her. My side was whatever side Nate was on. I watched him, as always, with poorly contained lust, every moment ratcheting up my need until I felt like I’d explode with it by the time he got off the field.
When Ethan stepped up to bat, Nate seemed to tense, taking the game seriously for the first time all night. Ethan wasn’t halfway to first before Nate held the ball and had forced Ethan out.
But Ethan didn’t head back behind home plate immediately. Instead, he stood a few feet from Nate and said something none of us could hear. I knew, watching Nate’s face, that what he said was neither casual nor innocuous.
Ethan turned to walk away, while Nate’s face morphed quickly from shock to anger. In one long stride Nate had grabbed Ethan by the collar. Ethan seemed to expect it — he twisted out of Nate’s grasp, swinging. We heard the shouting but not the words, and watched as the entire infield ran over to pull them apart. By the time they got there Nate had Ethan on the ground.
The game ended then and there. Nate spoke to no one, but came straight to where I stood, grabbed my hand and pulled me away.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he muttered.
“Tell me,” I insisted.
He just shook his head.
He led me to the backside of the school where we couldn’t be seen. I hated the look on his face — so worried and sad as he turned and placed his palms against the wall on either side of my shoulders, caging me in.
“What’s wrong?” I pled.
He started to speak and then stopped himself. Instead his hand curled into my hair as he pulled me into him, and he kissed me hard, as if it were the last time. And my pleasure was tainted by the knowledge that whatever Ethan said had scared him. Scared him enough that he couldn’t even tell me what it was.
CHAPTER 12
“Oooh! Towels!” squeals Elise. She’s so good. She truly looks freaking overjoyed.
“Pass them around,” insists her mother. Fuck. The worst kind of shower. The kind where we’re all forced to craft new phrases of excitement for every single item she receives.
“Such a pretty color,” says Heather. Damn her. That’s what I was going to say.
“Silver-sage,” beams Elise. “It’s so weird because you’d think it’d be a green but it really looks kind of blue, doesn’t it? The bathroom walls are beige. I love blue and beige together.”
“They’re so soft,” purrs the girl beside me, as she places them in my hands.
Expectant, happy faces turn toward me. I draw a complete blank. “Nice,” I murmur, but I fail to sound appropriately enthused and the faces fall a little. My mother shoots me a look that tells me to pick up my game.
Elise is opening another gift. I grin, thinking of my conversation with Ethan. It’s a pan.
“Oh my gosh! The 3-quart saucepan!” she squeals. Holy. Fucking. Shit. I will never get married if it requires squealing like this over a 3-quart pan. Never. Of course, I don’t cook, so I have no clue what you even do with a 3-quart saucepan. Make sauce? How much sauce could you possibly need to make over the course of your life? Especially the women in this room. Have any of them ever made sauce? More likely, they’ve peeked into the kitchen while their staff made sauce.
“Oooh, feel the weight of this thing!” cries Kendall, as it begins to make the circuit. She’s good. They all are. All of them but me. I’m not sure what gene I failed to inherit, but I’m missing the one that will make me buzz with excitement about kitchen goods. And it hangs over my head like a dark cloud, one I know every woman in this room can see. It embarrasses my mother. She’s embarrassed by the fact that it’s not me getting married. She’s embarrassed that I don’t care. I think she’s even embarrassed by the fact that I’m going to law school instead of
Similar Books
