His nose nudges my jawline, and I tip my head back, giving him access to kiss me or do whatever else he wants. He drags in a deep breath, inhaling my scent before his lips press a soft, lingering kiss to my neck.
Can he feel the rapid drumming of my pulse?
“Lucky, you better get back upstairs before your ice cream melts,” he states matter-of-factly.
Lucky? Where did that come from?
Stepping backward, he’s completely unaffected, acting as if what just transpired was an ordinary occurrence, when it’s anything but.
Wordlessly, I pass by him. Once I’ve left the kitchen, I race back up the stairs to Maddie’s room. We sit on her bed watching a movie while eating our ice cream sandwiches, but I could be chewing on cardboard for all the attention I’m paying. My mind is occupied with replaying the bizarre interaction with Marshall. I’m not fully convinced I didn’t imagine everything that happened. It’s all so out of the norm for him.
Could this mean that he’s noticed me? That maybe he’s attracted to me too? Thinking about it has me feeling giddy.
Swallowing the last bite, I lick my fingers. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings. By the end of this weekend, Marshall could ask me out. I smile, already picturing him walking me to all my classes. I’ll be the envy of almost every other girl in my school.
Pausing my recollection, I return to the present, shaking my head. I was so young and hopeful. Reliving it has me cringing at my own naïveté. Closing my eyes, I call up the remainder of that particular memory—the most painful part.
The doorbell rings out above the sound of Maddie washing dishes. “Crap,” she groans, buried to mid-forearm in soapy water. “Can you please get that?”
Placing the plate I’ve dried in the cabinet, I sling the dish towel over my shoulder and move toward the front of the house. The bell rings once more as I reach for the doorknob. “Son of a bitch that’s loud,” I mutter.
Gripping the knob, I tug the door open to find a teenage girl standing there. She looks familiar, but I don’t know her.
I smile politely. “Hi, can I help you?”
She looks me up and down. “Who are you?”
Wow. This chick’s rude. “Who are you?” I toss her question back. I mean, I am the one on the inside of the house. She’s the one seeking entrance. Right now, I’m tempted to slam the door in her face.
“I’m Lisa. I’m here to see Marshall.”
Now I really want to slam the door in her face, but I’m not that kind of person. Stepping aside, I say, “Come on in. I’ll go grab Marshall.”
“No need. He’s expecting me, and I know where his room is.” She smiles smugly before walking toward the stairs.
Dropping my head back, I sigh with frustration. Of course Lisa is pretty. If she knows where his room is, she’s obviously been here before.
I trudge back to the kitchen feeling discouraged.
“Who’s here?” Maddie asks.
Moving back next to her, I resume my dish wiping duties. “Some girl, Lisa, to see your brother.”
“Ugh.”
“I see you’re familiar with her?” I want all the details I can find out.
“Oh, yeah. She’s the latest one he’s paying attention to.”
“Are they dating?” I try to keep my tone even. I don’t want her to know that I’m interested for my own personal reasons.
“If you want to call it that. Mostly they stay in his room and probably do things I don’t want to think about.” She grimaces. “I saw them holding hands at school too.”
So much for my fantasy of him walking me to class coming true.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here. We can go grab coffee at the cafe and see who we can find there.”
“Sounds good to me.” I don’t want to be here when they emerge from his bedroom. Suspecting what’s going on and seeing proof are two different things. If I don’t see them together, maybe I can pretend last night meant something to him. That it wasn't just a drunken moment already forgotten.
Who am I kidding? I don’t even register on Marshall’s radar, and I never will.
Looking back, I can admit to myself that I was just a momentary distraction for Marshall. If he had any romantic feelings for me, surely he would’ve acted on them by now. If it weren’t for him still referring to me as “Lucky,” I would be convinced he didn’t remember the events of that night.
Rising from the chaise, I take a final glance at the vast ocean. My Mr. Right is out there somewhere, and one thing that I know for sure—Marshall Winters is not him.
Chapter Two
Marshall
“What do you think Maddie is going to say when she sees us?” I ask, my gaze swinging to Shaw before returning to the road.
“She’ll be happy to see me. Not so sure about you, though.” Shaw smirks.
“Shut up. I’m her brother. Blood before water, remember?”
“Yeah, I think we both know that’s not true, but I won’t rub it in your face.” Shaw chuckles.
I turn into the beach house driveway and whistle. “Damn. Did you know what this place looked like?”
“Last night when I spoke to Maddie she told me how amazing it was, but I don’t think I imagined it looking like this.”
Shaw opens the back door and lets his dog, Buddy, out. We give him a minute to do his business before we head inside through one of the back sliders to look around.
Grabbing a blueberry muffin from a bakery box on the counter, I demolish it in three bites.
I scope out the vacant bedrooms, choosing one with a beach view. This room also happens to share a bathroom with the one that Clover is staying in. I noticed a bunch of her girly shit on the counter in there.
Dropping my bag onto the bed, I rifle through the mess of unfolded clothes until I find my bathing suit. I leave my boxer briefs on and slip my board shorts over them. I learned the hard way as a kid that the combination of salt water and sand on skin equals horrific chafing. I’m still emotionally scarred from the pain. I remember many a time having to do the wide-legged chafe walk leaving the beach. It was cute as a kid, but somehow, I don’t think any girls my age would find it attractive.
Shaw sets Buddy up in Maddie’s room with water and food while I grab towels, a frisbee, and a tennis ball from my Jeep. We meet up and head to the beach to find the girls. The dry sand is burning hot on the soles of my feet when we pause to scan the area for Maddie and Clover. I shift from one foot to the other.
“I see them,” Shaw announces, taking off. Following, I don’t pay much attention to anyone else. The slight sea breeze ruffles my hair, giving me a brief respite from the god awful heat. I can’t wait to dive under the water.
Shaw stops next to Maddie, spreading his towel out on the sand beside her sleeping form. He drags his index finger down her spine, and she awakens with a jolt, rolling over.
“Shaw,” she growls, looking displeased for about two seconds before she jumps to her feet with a squeal of happiness. He sweeps her into his arms, burying his face in her neck. I can see his lips moving, but I can’t hear the words they’re exchanging.
If I had to guess, it’s some sappy shit like, “I couldn’t be away from you for another minute,”—or—“I missed you so much, love bug.”
Okay, in his defense, I’ve never heard him call her love bug. I may not know what he’s saying to Maddie, but one thing is for sure: Shaw loves my sister. It took me some time to adjust to the idea of them being together, but now that I see how much he cares, it’s all good.
Movement next to Maddie catches my attention. Glancing over, I get hooked like a fish on a line by the goddess in a scrap of a green bikini. Holy shit. Clover looks even better than the last time I saw her—which was only last week. But last week, she had clothes on—well, more clothes on. My day has quickly improved.
“Hey, Lucky.” I drop my towel next to her and take off running, kicking up sand behind me.
“Marshall, you’re an asshole,” she yells.
I pump my fist to let her know I heard and barrel straight into the water, running until it’s deep enough for me to dive under. Rising to my feet, I shake my hair back and begin to swim farther away from the shore.
The ocean feels balmy today, but that probably means it’s somewhere in the sixties. There’s no such thing as warm water along the coast of Massachusetts.
Most people ease their way into the water inch by paralyzing inch. But that’s like a slow torture. I find it’s best to commit and get it over with. Once you dunk under, you get used to the cold and it’s not nearly as bad.
After a while, Shaw joins me. We throw the tennis ball back and forth, sometimes throwing in a side arm motion where it stays low and skims along the water. Maintaining balance against the waves crashing against us and diving for the ball is a great workout. I could do this all day.
Or at least until the girls get up and walk toward the edge of the water. Clover captures my attention, and, lucky for me, Shaw is so focused on Maddie, he doesn’t notice.
“Okay, Romeo. Go see your girl. We can take a break for now,” I say.
Shaw grins and throws the ball to me before high stepping through the sea toward my sister. Shaking my head, I grin. I never thought I’d see the day those two would end up together. Hell, I never expected Shaw to settle down at all.
My eyes drift back to Clover, studying her as she wades into the surf. Her long, blonde hair is twisted into a floppy loop on top of her head, which should look silly, but on her it’s somehow sexy as fuck. I want to caress my hands down her shoulders and arms, lace our fingers, and disappear together someplace private, so I can ravish every inch of her body.
And if she wasn’t my little sister’s best friend, I would’ve put the moves on her way before now. But I don’t want to make things awkward for Maddie.
There was one brief, drunken moment years ago when alcohol had my defenses down, but luckily I stopped myself before any real damage was done. I still remember everything about that night. How the surprise on her face quickly shifted to thinly veiled interest as she looked me over. She smelled so good, soft like powder but also spicy like cinnamon. When I pressed my lips to her neck, it was all I could do to control the urge to see if she tasted as good as I imagined.
I’ve always had a thing for Clover. Maybe I always will. She’s the one girl who’s completely off-limits to me, which makes me want her one hundred times more. While I don’t necessarily break rules, I like to push the limits. I guess you could say I’ve always been a bit of a rule bender, so staying away from Clover hasn’t been easy for me. With Shaw and Maddie being a couple, we’re now thrust together all the time. I can’t ignore her, no matter how much I want to.
Pretending she doesn’t exist, like I used to do in high school, is no longer feasible. I have to acknowledge and even converse with her. Being a responsible adult sure can suck.
I turn away, diving under the next wave. Breaking the surface, I throw the ball forward and swim to retrieve it.
“Marshall, I’ll play with you,” Clover calls out.
Her innocent words rocket my thoughts to the gutter. Spinning around to face her, I compose my expression and thank God my lower body is under water. “That’s what she said.” I smirk, and she snorts.
I move to the side until we’re facing one another, parallel to the shoreline. Drawing my arm back, I propel the ball through the air in a solid arc. Clover’s eyes are focused on the neon ball until it lands in her grasp.
“Lucky catch,” I shout to her. She immediately launches the tennis ball in my direction. I’m pretty sure she’s trying to hit my face, but catching it with my right hand, I sail it back to her. We keep up the pace, watching one another. Every time one of us misses, we laugh at the other. I like how Clover isn’t afraid to play and get messy, even though our relationship has been somewhat difficult—mostly because of me.
The loop on top of her head is now askew from diving after the ball, but she couldn’t care less. She’s always confident and comfortable in her own skin, which is admirable and frustrating at the same time. Like the boy on the playground crushing on the girl, I want to pull her pigtails, so to speak. Getting under her skin would be my favorite pastime, if only Clover would fall for the bullshit I throw her way.
“I think I’m gonna head to the house and grab a sandwich,” Clover tells me before she throws the ball my way one final time.
I start toward the shore. “Okay. I’ll go with you. I’m pretty hungry myself.” She nods, her lips rolled inward, most likely fighting off a grimace or a sneer. I don’t think she’s ever forgiven me for the night I got too close. But I could be way off base. I have a hard time believing she doesn’t remember, and she would never bring it up, or admit it happened. Plus, I haven’t exactly gone out of my way to be nice to her.
In fact, at times I’ve been a downright asshole because it’s easier to piss her off and keep our relationship adversarial than to allow myself to fall for her.
After asking Shaw and Maddie what they want, we head toward the house, side by side. When we reach the top of the small dunes, a blond guy calls Clover's name, hurrying over from the house next door.
“Hey, Kent.” She smiles at him.
“Are we still on for tonight?” he asks.
“We are. I’m about to make lunch, but I’ll see you later.”
What? I cross my arms over my chest, sizing up this dude. He’s not a bad looking guy, I begrudgingly admit to myself.
“I can’t wait.” He winks.
I clear my throat, aiming a pointed glance at Clover. She rolls her eyes before introducing him. “This is Kent. He owns the house next door.”
Kent and I shake hands. I make sure to squeeze a little firmer than usual to show him I’m not some pushover. “I’m Marshall.”
“He’s Maddie’s older brother,” Clover explains.
He knows my sister? Jesus.
They just got here yesterday and Lucky’s already got a fucking date?
And why am I annoyed at how she introduced me? I like to think she and I are friends too. Would I feel better if she’d called me her friend? Or is it that I want some claim on her?
I’m acting like a dog taking a proverbial piss on her leg, marking my territory.
What does she know about this guy?
“How old are you?” I ask.
“I’m twenty-three.”
“Where are you from?” I fire another question.
“Connecticut.”
“What do you do for work?”
“I work at my family’s company.”
“Which is—“
Clover puts her palm on my chest. “Okay, that’s enough. Kent, I’ll see you for dinner.” She wraps her fingers around my bicep, steering me toward the stairs. Once we’ve stepped onto the deck, she turns to me. “What is your problem?” She spits out the question between clenched teeth.
“There’s no problem.”
“Then what’s with the interrogation?”
“I was looking out for you. How well do you know this guy?”
“Well enough to say yes when he asked me over for dinner.”
I shake my head at her naïveté. “Clover, you don’t go to some strange guy’s house on a first date.”
“He’s not strange. He’s nice and polite.”
“That’s what people always say about mass murderers too.”
“Marshall, you’re being ridiculous. Where’s this overbearing, older brother vibe coming from?”
Older brother vibe? If only she knew how unbrotherly my feelings for her are at this very moment. How much restraint it’s taking me to keep from slamming our mouths together.
“Can’t I look out for you? You’re my sister’s best friend.”
“Whatever, Marshall.” She scurries to open the sliding glass door. I chase after her all the way to the kitchen.
This time I catch her arm, turning her around. Her skin, hot from the sun, warms my palm. “Look, Clover, I want you to be saf
e.”
She yanks her arm free. “You don’t need to worry. I have condoms in my bag.”
My teeth snap together, tightly clenching at the thought of her having sex with Kent. “That’s not what I meant. Jesus. You’re going to fuck this guy? You barely know him.”
“Double standard much, Marshall? I already know him better than you know most of the women you screw.”
“Yeah, well, that’s me… not you.” Great answer, Marshall. Like she’s not going to go apeshit over that.
“That’s not a reason,” she snaps. “I’m an adult, and if I want to ride Kent’s dick all night, I will.” Opening the fridge, she begins setting sandwich makings on the counter.
“If that’s the kind of girl you want to be, feel free to ride mine.”
Her head appears over the top of the door. “Marshall, you should get away from me before I throw this jar of mayonnaise at your head.”
I back up two steps. “I’m just saying…” She draws her arm back, as if she’s going to chuck it at me. I raise my hands up. “Calm down.”
“Fuck you. Why should I? You inserted yourself in my business where you have no right to.”
“Someone had to. You’re acting...” I trail off before I say something I’ll regret. I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Like what?” she asks. “Huh?” She steps forward, coming at me like a little pit bull, poking my chest. “Don’t stop now.” She glares up at me.
I’m ashamed to admit how quickly I jump at the bait. “You’re acting desperate. There. Are you happy I said it?”
She narrows her eyes. “Yeah, Marshall. I’m happy. I just love being insulted, especially by a hypocrite. Get.” Poke. “Over.” Poke. “Yourself.” Poke.
Fuck me and my big mouth. I’ve never shamed anyone for owning their sexuality, so why can’t I keep my mouth shut with Clover?
HOOKED: Boston Terries Hockey #4 Page 2