"some of the best secrets in life are the ones you can't tell anyone about."

Morgan Ann Bennett

August.

The vibrating of my phone disturbed me from my dream. It was a good dream, too, about Chris, but it's just that - a dream.

I tossed and turned until I couldn't take the noise anymore.

Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes open and saw Malcolm asleep beside my body. He was on his side inches away from me, he liked his personal space in bed, and I'm not complaining about that.

Everything was so clean about his room, almost unlived in. It was unreal. There were no clothes piled up in the clothes hamper— Wait, I don't even think he had a clothes hamper?
My eyes darted around the dark room, only lit up some by the blue hue of the five AM sky.

My phone continued to ring, snapping me out of my thoughts.

The number wasn't saved but I recognized it.

I peeked over Malcolm's shoulder and saw he was dead asleep so I snuck out of the California king bed and tiptoed into the dark hallway.

"What, Kyle?!" I seethed.

"I miss you," my ex talked.

"It's five in the morning," I deadpanned.

"Please come back to me," he begged.

I facepalmed. "You're pathetic, bye-"

"Wait!" He exclaimed.

I exhaled through my nose in annoyance.

"What, Kyle?"

"You have to give me a second chance," he said.

"Dude," I huffed, ending the call.

When I walked back into the room, thinking I was so stealthy, I was met by Malcolm making the bed- or at least his side.

"Malcolm," I breathed out in shock.

"Good morning, darling," he said with a smile.

"Uh, good morning," I swallowed, tapping my phone on my palm as I walked across the plush carpet.

"Breakfast?" He offered.

"You cook?" I asked with glee, liking the sound of that.

He had a laugh. "Uh no. Hana!"

I furrowed my eyebrows.

Who's Hana?

Then, in walked an Asian woman in a pristine white uniform.

"Yes, Master Jameson?" she said with a bow of her head.

Oh hell no. Master?

"Hana, be a doll, and whip up whatever my Morgan desires. Oh, not too much, though, she's got to watch that figure," he said with a tongue click, and walked inside the bathroom.

I looked down at my tight, flat stomach but said nothing. Men.

"Right away. What would you like, miss?" She asked me, looking down at the floor as if she was instructed to never make eye contact.

I sighed, following her out of the bedroom, and said through a yawn, "To go back to sleep."

***

Malcolm found me in the kitchen hours later after his "meeting" that was held in his study via Zoom.

He was followed by Chris, Teddy, and Sage who all looked less than happy.

Malcolm cleared his throat and checked the time on his watch.

"How was breakfast?" He asked me with a stroke of my hair.

"It was good," I said, looking down shamefully as he kissed my temple.

Teddy gestured me a look like he wanted to say good morning and be his usual silly self with me but couldn't. Malcolm was in a mood.

Meanwhile, it took a lot out of me not to look Chris's way. His scent invaded my nose, I couldn't take it.

I sniffed and closed the iPad Pro Malcolm gifted me.

"You gotta go, don't you, Malcolm?" I heard Chris's voice rasp. I shivered.

His uncle snatched the cup of freshly brewed black coffee from Hana's hands and sipped it.

"I suppose," he exhaled, nodding his head towards the door for Sage and Teddy to follow.

"Chris," he grumbled, giving his nephew a stern look.

Chris just clenched his jaw and looked plainly as Malcolm left with nothing more to say.

Once the door shut, I asked, "What was that about?"

Hana cleaned the island around me until I finally got her to relax.

"Thank you, Hana," I said to her.

She smiled and bowed her head. "I go clean Master Jameson's room now."

That was going to take some getting used to. . .

It wasn't until after she left that Chris spoke up.

His eyes were locked on me and he just blinked, his pouty lips turned down, making him come across expectant and disappointed.

"You didn't text me back?" He remonstrated, palms on the countertop.

"I know," I said, spinning in the seat.

His eyebrow raised like he was surprised at that.

"Okay," he said with a slight chuckle. "you wanna play games?"

"Not at all," I insisted easily, scrolling through my iPad.

After a minute, I still felt Chris's low eyes on me.

I grew fed up, locked my screen, and sighed as I met his gaze.

"What?" I asked him.

He threw grapes at me one by one.

"You're so mature," I talked mechanically as I dropped from the stool.

"Yeah, well, how do you stand up and get shorter?" He nagged, grapes in his cheek.

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up."

Malcolm's nephew AKA the pain-in-my-ass finally left me alone long enough to go get dressed for the day. Well, in something other than lounge wear.

***

I walked out of Malcolm's bedroom — our— and was startled to see Chris standing right around the corner as I turned it.

I gasped and instinctively hit him in the chest, scared.

He didn't laugh or flinch, just looked down at me with furrowed eyebrows and a tight jaw.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh my gosh, trying to get away from you! Move," I whined, trying to get by his body.

Chris grabbed the back loop of my denim shorts and pulled me back.

"Uh-" I sounded, starting to object when he cut me off.

"Come on," he demanded, heavily stepping down the stairs.

I stayed at the top of the staircase, looking over the railing to see him now in the foyer, wondering why there was no shadow behind him.

Chris looked up at me, standing in an impatient t-stance.

"Morgan," he grumbled like an angry father.

I crossed my arms. "Why should I go anywhere with you, Christopher? So you can lead me on and then say 'wE cAnT dO tHiS aGaIn?' No thank you."

He swiped his palms down his face and groaned.

"Fine," he gave in, "your little ass can stay here then."

"Fine," I huffed, flipping my hair.

"Good," he argued, walking out.

The door slammed and I waited for a while.

With a stomp of my foot, I realized I did actually want to go with him and not spend the day inside or with Callie and her attitude.

But I wasn't going to tell him that.

I sat down on the top step in my black with white stripes racerback bodycon romper and put my chin in the palm of my hand.

A loud groan echoed through the foyer when Chris returned. He stomped towards the base of the stairs and walked all the way up to me.

With no words, he just hung his head and grabbed my wrist, pulling me after him and all I could do is smile behind his back, happy I got my way without having to boost his ego for it.

*

"Where are we going?" I asked in the Durango after ten minutes.

I toyed with my gold chains that matched my hoop earrings, waiting for Chris to answer me.

"I don't know," he said in that gruff voice that made me feel things.

I swallowed, removing my eyes from his lips once he turned to face me at the red light.

Pushing the black rectangle frame glasses over my hairline, I put my hand out.

Chris looked at it, pulling off once the light was green.

"What?" He asked, slapping my hand as if I wanted a high-five.

"No," I said, flicking my wrist. "your phone, give it to me."

"Aheh," he laughed, chin up. "No."

I smacked my glossed lips. "Come on, I don't wanna go through anything, just your music. This song is not the vibe."

He looked offended. "This is Outkast, clearly your music taste sucks."

My eyes rolled as I plummeted back against the passenger seat.

I turned the volume down and brought my knees to my chest.

"Who was your childhood crush?" I asked at random. "Mine was James Marsden."

His eyes wandered. "Nia Long."

"Nia Long?" I questioned.

"Yes, ever since I saw her in Friday," he reminisced.

Well I certainly can't compete with Nia Long, I thought in my head.

That's when my stomach growled. Chris chuckled, looking over his shoulder at me as he made a right.

"You hungry?"

"No shit," I gave him a hard time.

"That's why I'm not going to stop," he said, pushing my knees against the door.

"Stop, stop, okay, I'm sorry! Food, now. Please?" I put on my cutest closed-mouth smile to sway him.

*

"Jack-in-the-box," I squinted my eyes to read the monument sign outside of the fast food restaurant.

Chris backed into a space and laughed at me. "You need glasses," he teased.

"Hush," I responded, unfastening both our seatbelts.

Chris's eyes looked suggestive at my gesture, his eyebrow raised.

I frowned. "Not even, now come on."

"Why are you so excited?" He laughed at me, making sure the doors were locked.

"I've never eaten here before," I admitted.

The joint was no more spectacular-looking than any Wendy's or Burger King. It's colors were red mainly with white lettering and black panels. I had only seen people on YouTube do Jack-in-the-box mukbangs, never had I tried it myself, but I was ready to!

From the parking lot I could smell the beefy patties and greasy fries. It was enough to make my mouth water, my stomach raging to be fed.

To my surprise, Chris held the door open for me.

I stopped for a second to bask in the moment before he laughed and pushed me in the back. I walked right under his arm to enter the fast food restaurant.

Business wasn't exactly booming but there were some groups taking up a few tables and a couple of people in front of us in line.

I squinted, trying to read to the menu.

Chris looked down at me after a double take and chuckled, his arms folded as he stood before me.

"You really can't see?" he asked.

I ignored his question. "I think I know what I want."

"Next!" The cashier yelled.

The two of us moved forward but only slightly as the woman in front of us had two playful kids with her and they ordered what seemed like the entire menu.

The little girl was so cute with beads and barrettes in her long, 4c hair. She stared at me so I smiled and subtly waved.

"—sorry, I don't know what my boyfriend wants, he's in the bathroom," she said, tapping her foot.

That's when a man came from around the corner and stood by her side.

"Aye, stop runnin'!" He scolded the two toddlers.

Chris grew impatient at the choosy customer at the register that kept going "um... um," unsure of what to order next.

However, they finally got through the lengthy order and were told the total.

The man patted his shorts down for some change since he was short about seventy-five cents.

The cashier didn't want to wave it and the man's girlfriend said she had no money or card on her.

So, he looked back at us with a friendly side smile on his dark face.

Only, he found Chris's eyes and froze.

Chris stoned in place, too.

What the?

"Honey?" the woman called out, tugging her man's arm.

You would've thought Chris and the man saw ghosts.

She looked between the men, just as confused as I.

"Chris," the man let out.

I watched Chris swallow the lump in his throat.

"D-David," he stammered. "How are you?"

It wasn't like Chris to stutter, not know what to do or say next. I watched his following body language, hoping it would give me more context to this cold encounter.

This David guy just flashed his smile, teeth obviously fake. Then, he stuck his hand out.

Chris mistook it for David wanting a handshake but David pulled back.

"You don't mind paying for this, do you?" asked David, in an almost taunting way.

Chris's jaw clenched. He looked around at David, his girlfriend, and their kids.

"Of course not," Chris said, shaking his head.

"That's nice of him," the woman said, pulling David away. "who is that guy?"

"An old friend," I heard David tell her as they walked off to wait for the food to come out.

I blinked rapidly trying to piece all of that exchange together. They didn't seem like friends to me, but that's how men are, I suppose.

I was in my head trying to theorize why the men were so awkward then but that's when Chris asked me what I wanted finally.

I ordered a Jr. jumbo Jack cheeseburger with seasoned curly fries and a large Hi-C, pigging out.

Chris was fuming, he lost his good manners and slapped the twenty down on the counter instead of politely putting it in the cashier's hand.

I saw the discouraged look on her face as she mentally told herself to stay calm and just take the cash. Before she could, though, I handed it to her personally.

This smile formed across her thick lips, warming my heart.

When she returned the change, I didn't let Chris take it. I told her to keep it.

Her name was Monique, I read on the tag stuck to her uniform top.

I know what it's like to work in the restaurant industry, some days are worst than others. Chris not handing her the money could've been her last straw.

And since that's not like him— or at least I hope not because Mary is a saint who I know raised him much better than that— I nudged Chris and he inhaled deeply, collecting himself.

"Sorry," he said as genuine as he could at the time.

"I can help whoever's next!" Monique hollered.

It wasn't long before Chris got our food on the tray and I filled our large cups with the drinks we wanted.
I met him at a booth in the back where he looked a bit distracted.

Tracing his line of sight, I found him staring at David and his family across the dining room.

Sinking in my seat, I popped a fry in my mouth and watched Chris linger on them as they walked out.

When the door shut, he finally took a drink and snapped out of that deer-in-headlights like state.

"Who was that?" I hummed, dipping another curly fry in Chris's barbecue sauce.

"Nobody," he insisted, firmly setting his cup back on the surface of the table.

Not believing him for a second, I just stared at him blankly and he did so back, not looking amused.

I dropped it. For now, anyway. . .

Trying to pick up his mood, I unwrapped the burger.

"If this is nasty, I get to slap you, right?" I teased, eyeing the meat.

It had been a while since I had something so greasy, I had gotten used to LeRoux. Ugh.

His eyes were locked on my face as I slowly took the first bite.

Maybe because I was so hungry, or I just wanted something other than salad, oysters, and rigatoni, but it was pretty good.

I melted into the taste and was taken back to the days when my mother would let Callie and I ball up the hamburger meat ourselves. We would pick little pieces off and eat it raw. So nasty to think about but it was good at the time. Mom would squirt ketchup and mustard in the bowl as we mixed and have a contest to see who could crack an egg in the batter without shells. Then we'd take it out to Dad at the grill who would already have had the hot dogs done at that point and eaten three on his own.
The thing is, I was never really a burger person, anyway, but I loved the whole process of preparing them and watching my father grill plus the way Mom would brag about him being a "barbecue master."

"Did I lose you? You smell burnt toast?" Chris joked, snapping in my face.

I shook my head to exit my thoughts, pulling the burger from my mouth.

"It's good," I chirped, straw between my teeth.

Chris nodded, mouth full.

After completely devouring my fries, I tried the burger again.

"What sports did you play in school?" I asked to change the topic, swiping my finger along the corner of my lips in case of any spilled sauce.

"High school? Basketball, track, football. College - just basketball," he answered.

I was impressed. I expected the football, though.

"Scholarship?" I asked (not that his parents couldn't afford it.) He nodded.

"D1?" I asked. He nodded.

I waved my hands about sarcastically. "O.K. Mr.Baller," I giggled.

He just looked all bashful, chilling against the seat with one arm up, the other babysitting his half-full drink.

"You?" He rasped.

I adjusted in my seat, becoming uncomfortably hot at the way he fixed his eyes on me.

"I did competitive cheer," I said with no emotion.

Chris started to laugh and I threw a fry at him, asking why.

"Like in the movies?"

"Yes, you ass, and we were very good, thank you; went to the finals every year and—" I expressed with pride but cut myself off.

Noticing the way he was looking at me so intently, I put my burger down and laughed.

"Anddd I should've got a salad," I exhaled, using a napkin to wipe the ketchup from my fingers.

"Why?" Asked Chris who leaned forward, licking his lips.

My mouth went dry, lips parting.

"'Cause I'm eating like a pig," I said back, "if I got a salad, I would've been all cutesy and you wouldn't be staring at me like I have something on my face... d-do I?"

You'd think he'd tell me if I made a mess but it's Chris, you never know with him, I thought in my head as I took a drink of my juice to quench myself.

With a deep exhale, he raised up to spread his legs further and sat back. "I'm staring at your lips because I want to suck them."

And like a complete fool, I started choking. So much so that the employee who was sweeping nearby came over to pat my back.

"That's embarrassing," I mumbled when he walked off.

Chris just continued to look at me, this time more intrigued.

My cheeks had to be bright red, I could feel them burning.

Once I got myself together, I sat back and put my cheek in the palm of my hand, shaking my head as I stared back at the ball player.

"What?" His voice made me tingle. That, and the way he put his hand on top of mine.

I crossed my legs under the table and sealed my lips for a moment.

After a hesitation, I had to resist so I pulled my hand back and put it in between my yearning legs.

"You have a death wish, don't you?" I asked with through a small laugh.

"You want to die," I bounced my words, giggling, "Malcolm's gonna kill you."

"Don't let me die a virgin," he said, standing, offering to throw away my trash.

"So," I said, following him outside. "Where to next?"

That's when a bunch of teens in their pickup trucks sped by, one even did a donut in the Jack-in-the-box parking lot.

"WOO!" They screamed, all riled up.

It's summer, I mentally reminded myself. I longed for that, their energy, the way they were hype just to be free and do whatever the fuck they wanted.

Monique walked past us, saying "excuse me" to get into her Nissan Altima.

She was sending a voice message to her friend, I assume, telling them about a local party in the woods.

"Hey!" I called out, walking over to the driver's side.

She looked at me like I had three heads until she remembered I was the girl who gave her the tip earlier.

"What's up, stink?" She talked back.

Stink. I giggled.

I asked, "Where's this party?"

***

Loud music bled through the gigantic trees as Chris and I followed Monique and her trio of friends to the "secret location."

It was getting close to sunset, and I couldn't wait to be partying during golden hour with a drink and all the best vibes.

Monique never mentioned a hike but it was worth it. The scene was beautiful, I felt like I was in a corny high school movie and I'm the outcast who's experience teenage shit for the first time.

Chris came back to me with a Seagrams cooler, a beer for him, and asked me why I looked so "out of it."

I just grinned, taking it all in.

"I'm just so happy to be anywhere other than the house, the cafe, the-"

"The B&B," he finished my sentence.

We clinked our glasses and shared a laugh.

"Mm!" I exclaimed, swallowing the beverage. I ripped my phone from Chris's back pocket ('cause I made him hold it since my outfit didn't call for a bag today) and opened the app. "Let's make a Tiktok!"

I knew exactly which one I was going to force on him, too, my favorite trend at the moment.

"Hug me! Bring it in. Would ya loosen up, would ya?" The lyrics recited.

Chris looked at me, bored. Sour puss.

"Come on," I whined, setting the camera up. His lack of effort, but just-happy-to-be-involved smirk made the video postable though I did all the work. My dancing wasn't the best, but I had some rhythm and looked cute so I posted it.

With my loyal hundred of thousands of followers, they flooded my comments within minutes, all asking who the hot guy was and what happened to Kyle. I wasn't going to respond and confirm or deny the rumors.

We do look good together, though, I thought in my head.

Only a couple drinks in, no more than four, Chris and I became the life of the party.

We didn't even know who was hosting and Monique was long gone with some boy she was looking forward to seeing.

Anyway, I whooped Chris's ass at cup pong to which he got me back in a a game of 'flip cup.'

Our competitive nature got the best of both of us and we started trying to beat each other at everything.
Who could finish a drink first? Who could chug and not burp? Who could hold their pee the longest? You name it.

The sun set and it was more priceless than I hoped.
I stood on a bolder, capturing it's serenity with only my eyes as my phone died long ago.

"Boo!" Chris's dumb ass scared me, almost making me fall but he had ahold of my arm.

"Where have you been?" I asked him after he'd disappeared with some guys for, like, an hour.

Then I smelled the weed and realized. Oh.

His eyes were low and red but honestly, he looked fucking hot. Or I'm drunk. No, he looked fucking hot - and not necessarily more so than usual, just in another way this time.

"Let's go, stink," he said, walking me in the direction from which he came.

I played dead, standing in place, not ready to go.

"Not this," he grumbled, throwing me over his shoulder.

I laughed and waved bye to some bystanders, watching us.

When we were back at the truck, I asked Chris to let me play a song on his phone while mine charged.

He handed it over easily this time, after probably deleting a bunch of shit. He's not slick, but I didn't care, I wasn't gonna go through anything anyway.

I twisted my mouth in thought as I scrolled through his song list. He had some good playlists and tracks but most of them, I already knew. Point for him: good taste.

Stumbling across one song of an artist I never heard of before, I decided to play that one as Chris sat in the driver's seat, getting himself together.

It was "call you tomorrow" by Montell Fish.

I sat back, eyes closed, as I gave it a genuine listen.

This could be the alcohol talking or the effects of darkness consuming us in the vast woods, but what a vibe.

"Can I call you, you tomorrow?
Can I call you, you tomorrow?
Hear me out
Maybe this is, is
The death of us
I'm crying out
God, hear my prayer
Maybe there's no ending us
You hear our cry
And if I mean something
If I still mean something to you
I'm still here
And if I mean something
If I still mean something to you
I'm still here"

I like to think that next, Chris made the first move, it could've been me, though, but I couldn't tell, it happened so fast.

He pulled my weight on top of his body and I accidentally hit my white low top Air Force one sneaker on the horn and made it sound. We both laughed it off, not losing the heat of the moment.

I palmed his face, wanting this badly, as his hands didn't know where to stop and explore, so he caressed all of me.

Thank God for his (nearly illegal) tinted windows, am I right?

We twisted our bodies into the back for more space and I pushed him against the seat. He looked bewildered, but ready for whatever was to come next, as was I.

My heart was pounding in my chest.

All that loyalty shit was out of the window, I just wanted him. I only saw him.

But there was simply not enough space for him to stretch me out the way I'd been dreaming of since my birthday.

So I was going to make him wait, tease him like he did me.

I unzipped my shirt to my navel and flipped my hair to one side, lowering to the floor of the truck.

Oh, Chris, such a giver— a gentleman— trying to pick me up and lay me on my back but I wasn't going to let him.

"No..." I sounded sweetly, pushing his knees apart.

Chuckling, he ran a hand through my hair and pulled me towards the base of his cock.

I kissed his balls and took in the masculine scent of his skin, indulging in it.

I opening my mouth to flick my tongue across the tip.

When he took his length in his hand, I pouted, missing it already. He smacked the tip against my lips and I smiled happily, pushing my hand away so I could have my fun.

My eyes disconnected with his after an intense moment and I gagged upon feeling him at the back of my throat but didn't stop.

"Shit," he gasped, bringing my head closer, entranced by my gargling.

Finally, I was released, eyes watering something serious but it felt like a reward.

My fingers wrapped around his cock and he jerked, yanking my hair but I liked the sharp pain. He slid further in my mouth and I adjusted my jaw to take him whole.

Chris eased out and then back in so fast that I gagged and this time thought I would throw up, but didn't.

"That's so hot," he moaned, head tossed back as he continued that same motion.

My eyes widened and leaked but I didn't pull away until I was questioning if he'd let me breathe again.

Managing to pull away, a string of salvia dripped across his lap and I sucked and kissed it up, he looked down at me with large eyes like that's never been done to him before, I just didn't want him all sticky.

Chris tried freeing me of my bodysuit but I kissed the back of his hand and smiled against it.

"No," I repeated, throwing myself over his lap.

He swallowed hard and tucked the hair behind my ear.

"Just sit on it," he whispered, kissing from my collarbone to between my breasts.

I rolled my neck back in pleasure, rolling my hips in his lap. As hard as it was to deny him, I did.

Chris's arms wrapped around me tight and I grabbed fistfuls of his hair.

I kissed his forehead as he cupped between my legs.

His final look was desperate, kissing up my neck only to stop and rasp in my ear, "You're not going to let me fuck you?"

I sucked my lips into my mouth and shook my head no.

He pulled down on my shoulders and then dropped his hands to my ass where he tapped me twice.

"I'm going to get you back for this, you're lucky I have somewhere to be," he grumbled, fixing himself.

I giggled, watching him use my baby wipes to clean off and then redress.

He then got back in the driver's seat and pulled off, turning my new favorite song.

"So much for letting me die a virgin," he mocked.

I laughed, lying down in the back seat, looking up at the roof. "Sorry, I don't have sex on the first date."

I squinted my eyes, nervous, thinking he'd shoot me down and say this wasn't a date.

"That's fine," he said deeply, reaching to hold my hand while his eyes stayed on the road. "I wanna earn it."

Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. This WAS a date!

Mental combustion in 3, 2, 1...