Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2)(20)

Just hearing the forbidden word on his mouth was enough to cause the now-familiar dampness to spread between her thighs, her lips popping open on a puff of breath. “If you didn’t want to….t-take me, you wouldn’t be here,” River whispered. “And it’s more than that. I’m here for what happens after, too. The talking…and holding. Us.” She swallowed hard. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he hissed, before attacking her mouth with a kiss full of fury. “Don’t ever ask me that again.”

“Yo, De Matteo,” a male voice called behind Vaughn. A voice River recognized as one of Vaughn’s ex-classmates who now worked as an assistant varsity football coach. “Hands off the students.”

Lines formed around Vaughn’s mouth, his hands turning to fists and pounding against the truck. River knew from experience what was coming, so she wrapped her arms tight around his vibrating form and held fast. “Just ignore him. Just—”

When the coach spoke again, he was close enough that only River and Vaughn heard. “How long before she’s a pregnant dropout, De Matteo?” He clucked his tongue. “Misery loves company, right?”

She saw the bolt of shame shoot across Vaughn’s expression, but it gave way to rage almost immediately. It took two security guards and three senior students to pull Vaughn off the coach that afternoon, while River wept on the sidewalk. When he walked out of jail a week later, once the charges were dropped, he looked disappointed to see River waiting for him, almost as though he wanted to turn around and walk back into jail. Sometimes she still dreamed about that look.



Having an unexpected two weeks off sounded amazing on the surface, but River had been moving without ceasing for so long, the inactivity left her staring off into space…a lot. It certainly was not because of the earth-shaking orgasm she’d been delivered from her long lost, heartbreaker ex-boyfriend’s tongue the night before. Or the growly sentiments he’d issued straight to her vagina. Remember me?

Oh, heck yeah. Both River and her vagina remembered Vaughn’s skill set very well. But there had been a difference in him last night…a maturity so different from the brooding young man with the hair trigger temper. Back when they were essentially kids transitioning into adulthood, Vaughn had been a closed book. Last night, he’d shown her, at least, that maybe he was capable of sharing the first couple of chapters. Whereas he’d once been given to occasional bouts of intensity before returning to quiet, frustrating watchfulness, in the heat of the moment last night, he’d been honest with her. That was…new, even if his exact thoughts remained mysterious. Elusive.

Perhaps she was wrong to feel encouraged by what seemed like a changing tide. Maybe the new honesty in Vaughn had begun their final night together when he’d walked out. Left town. She’d forced him to be honest with himself and admit she wasn’t what he wanted.

It was possible he’d returned to town solely because the man he’d become didn’t shirk his responsibilities—meaning Marcy. And if that was the case, she needed to follow his example and be mature enough to allow it. Starting tonight, when she would invite him over to dinner.

When Marcy nudged River’s elbow, she realized she’d been staring into space, leaving her daughter to color the entire Sesame Street scene alone. “Mommy, color with me.”

Mother’s guilt poking her in the gut, River selected a yellow crayon and began to color in Big Bird. They were killing time until mid-morning, when the other kids would start showing up at the local park. Their breakfast dishes were still on the table, which was unusual, since the morning rush had become the household norm. When she’d told Marcy she would be home for two weeks, her daughter’s face had lit up enough to make River realize how much she’d been missed. She was looking forward to spending two weeks smothering Marcy with love. “Hey, kiddo. We’re having a friend over for dinner tonight.”

Marcy looked up from her task, face hopeful. “Jasmine and Uncle Sarge?”

“No.” River threaded her fingers through Marcy’s blonde hair. “But I miss them, too. They’ll come for a visit as soon as the band gets a break.”

Her daughter hummed an acknowledgment and resumed coloring, only to stop again. “What friend is coming?”

Lord, it felt like she’d swallowed a beanbag. She hadn’t rehearsed an explanation, never having expected to make one. “His name is Vaughn. He went to school with mommy. Back when we were young.”

Which was true. Vaughn had attended Hook High until the beginning of his senior year, when River had been a sophomore. She often wondered if they’d started dating before he’d dropped out, if maybe their relationship would have prevented him from making that decision. No way of knowing. No way of being sure of anything concerning Vaughn, which is what had her hedging her bet now. “He’s just coming for a little while, Marcy. Okay? Not a long time.”

“Okay.” Marcy’s nose wrinkled, already disregarding the subtle warning, but hopefully retaining it somewhere. “When can I go to the big school, Mommy?”

“Soon.” She smiled, knowing her daughter referred to the big, brick structure that housed Hook High, which they passed frequently in the car. “You’ll love it, just like I did.”

The words from her own mouth made River’s smile fade. She had enjoyed school, even night school at the junior college—loved the challenge, the twinkle in her belly when something finally made sense, or she read a particularly relatable piece of literature. She wouldn’t trade a college experience for Marcy—not a chance—but she could admit to a tiny background wish to go back someday.