by M. A. Foster
“WHERE YOUS GOIN’?” Willow asks from my doorway, bracing her hands on each side of the frame for balance, swinging her leg back and forth. This is her new thing—until she kicks something or loses her balance and falls. Either way, it always ends tragically for her, which pisses her off. Not because she’s hurt but because she’s mad at herself for getting hurt. It’s a pride thing. My little girl has a bit of a temper.
I’m pretty sure she gets it from my side of the family.
The kid is a savage. She’s fearless.
Until you come at her with a hairbrush.
No lie, the girl legit loses her shit and screams like she’s being tortured.
The first time it happened, it scared the hell out of me, and I came close to having a breakdown myself. My mom says it’s because she’s tender-headed, whatever that means. Mom and I went to the store and bought everything they had on the shelf for kids to prevent tangles. And God forbid she falls asleep before I can put any products in her hair, because when she wakes up, that’s when shit gets real.
I hold back a chuckle as I slip on my shoes. “I have to go to practice.” I won’t mention to Willow that Jay came in last night or that I’m stopping by her house on the way to practice, because she’ll have an epic meltdown.
Emerson, Jay, Bass, and Grace, their housekeeper who’d worked for Uncle Marcus before Emerson came into the picture, arrived in Heritage Bay last night. Marcus wanted Jay out of California after he passed away, because he knew his death would draw unwanted attention from the media to his family. He made all the arrangements in advance, including having a house built for them, but Emerson wasn’t ready to leave California or the home she shared with Marcus.
Can’t say I blame her.
Since the Mayhem Foundation charity dinner, Jay and I talk at least three times a week on FaceTime. Willow gets in on the conversations, too. She loves Jay.
Willow exhales a sound between whine and a growl, like I’ve just ruined her plans for the day. “Bud I don wanchu ta go ta praftiss. I wanna go ta da park.”
“I have to go to football practice so I can help the team win the game. We can go to the park tomorrow.”
My phone buzzes on the bed beside me. I pick it up and see a text from Ashton.
WTF?! U just left last night.
This girl. Why she can’t grasp the fact that I don’t have to explain shit to her is beyond me.
This thing between Ashton and me has run its course. I should’ve shut it down the day she threw a bitch fit in my driveway because I told her she should go to prom with Matt Rawlings.
She did end up going with him. I don’t know if they hooked up, but I seriously doubt it. I imagine sex with Ashton Grant better come with a marriage proposal.
Before with Ashton, our relationship—or non-relationship—wasn’t about having sex. It was more about getting what we both needed without having sex.
But my needs have changed.
My body is craving sex.
Which is why I’ve been keeping my distance from her. It helps that the last month I’ve been busy with football camp. I’m afraid this primal need for more will override my common sense and lead us to the point of no return. Ashton’s clingy enough as it is; I can’t take her V-card and have it on my conscience.
Not after what I did to Claire.
I blame Nikki Fox and her magic mouth for awakening the beast that’s been dormant inside me for the last two years.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night at the Mayhem Foundation dinner. The rush from the adrenaline pumping through my veins and the sight of my fantasy girl on her knees, my hands tangled in her bright blue hair as she blew my mind—among other things—like it was her job. It’s a scene I’ve replayed in my head countless times for the past three months, especially in the shower.
Despite what Dylan thinks, I do have my shit together. I’m eighteen, going into my senior year, and I’m going to have the time of my fucking life.
I text back, Get over it.
She immediately replies with Ur such a dick.
Her reply is instant, so I have to assume she was expecting the response I gave her and was already prepared to call me a dick, as usual.
She follows up with another text: I won’t be at Brad’s party today. I have to finish school shopping.
I don’t know why she feels it necessary to tell me her plans for the day. It’s not like I care.
I don’t even bother with a reply.
Standing from my bed, I grab my keys and wallet from the nightstand. My phone buzzes again but I ignore it. I know it’s Ashton because she never stops. I gotta give her props for her persistence.
Grabbing my bag from the bed, I turn and make my way over to Willow, scooping her up with my free arm. Her tiny arms curl around my neck and squeeze as if she’s trying to keep me from leaving.
She lets out another little whimper and drops her head to my shoulder.
“Did Mom make you breakfast?” I ask, carrying her into the family room where my brother Aiden is eating a bowl of cereal and watching American Dad on Netflix.
She nods against my shoulder and responds with a muffled “Mmm-hmm.”
“Aiden, is this censored?” I ask, though I know it’s not. The last thing I need is Willow quoting something from Roger’s filthy mouth.
Aiden rolls his eyes as he aims the remote at the TV and switches it to Disney.
“I have to go, but I promise I’ll be back to hold you for nap time.” She releases her hold around my neck and I pepper her face with kisses, making her burst into a fit of giggles before placing her on the couch beside Aiden. “See you later, okay?”
She nods and snuggles up to Aiden. “Okay.”
“YO, MACKENZIE!” BRAD calls out as he steps into the locker room followed by Zach and Evan. “Where’d you go last night?” He holds out his fist and I bump it with mine. “Or should I ask, who’d you disappear with? I know it wasn’t Ashton because she was still at the party being her usual annoying-ass self.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “So, who was she?”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t hooking up. I had some family sh—stuff.” I don’t mention that I left the party early because I had to pick up Jay from the airport.
“Yo, I was up at Mac’s the other night,” Justin cuts in. “Who’s the new redheaded chick?” He blows out a low whistle. “She’s bangin’.”
My brows pull together, thinking I might’ve overheard Dylan talking to my dad about a new girl he and Alex hired. I shake my head. “No idea. Haven’t seen her.”
Dex, a defensive lineman, closes his locker and turns around to face us. “I have and, dude, she’s a dime piece,” he confirms, nodding. “But don’t tell my girl I said that. She’ll have my balls. My baby gets jealous.”
Dex’s girlfriend is all of five foot nothing, but she’s mean as fuck. I chuckle as Justin rags him about being a pussy.
“Let’s go, ladies! Quit your gossiping and get your asses on the field,” Coach Morgan hollers as he strides past us and out the door.
The team lines up and jogs toward the field. Zach falls to the back of the line beside me. “I saw Jay on the cover of Rhythm & Riffs. Well, the cartoon version of her.” He chuckles. “Lexi admittedly has a girl crush on her.”
I snort. “Yeah, I saw it, too.” Emerson wouldn’t allow Jay’s face to be on the cover of Rhythm & Riffs, so they compromised by bringing in an artist who drew up a cartoon-like rock version of her. Let’s just say it wasn’t what Emerson expected and, to put it mildly, she wasn’t happy, but by then it was too late.
“How’s Jay doing?” Zach asks.
“She’s better,” I reply.
“I can’t imagine what she’s been through.”
It never dawned on me until recently that Zach and Jay have both avoided talking about each other. Zach occasionally asks about her, but he always seemed skittish, like he’s expecting me to blow up on him or something.
In fact, it was during our last FaceTi
me conversation that Jay brought up Zach’s name for the first time in as long as I can remember, when she asked me not to tell him she was coming to town. She said it’s because she wants to surprise him, but now I believe there’s more to it.
With everything that’s happened over the last year—Uncle Marcus passing, Jay being hospitalized, the foundation dinner, football camp, and keeping up with Willow on the daily—the thought had never crossed my mind.
Until now.
They totally hooked up.
But why are they being weird?
“She took it pretty hard,” I tell him. “Harder than anyone expected. And she made herself sick.”
He stops and swivels to face me. “Sick how?” His expression is a mixture of concern and panic. Obviously he still loves her.
Jay would be mortified if I told him what she did to herself.
I shake my head and drop my gaze to the ground. “Just sick. But she’s better now.”
“Easton, Mackenzie! Move it!” Coach yells from the field, and that concludes our conversation.
“ALL RIGHT, GUYS, that’s it for today,” Coach calls out, and the team heads for the locker room.
Thank fuck, because I’m about to die. This August heat is miserable.
Zach drops down on the bench beside me and begins unlacing his cleats.
“So, Reagan texted me last night after I left the party,” I tell him.
“Of course she did.” He chuckles as if he’s not surprised. He shouldn’t be. She’s a whore and he knows it. Everyone knows it.
While I was in California attending the charity dinner and blissfully getting sucked off by a pop star, my friends were at prom. At the after party, Zach caught Evan’s brother, Grayson, nailing Reagan from behind, inside a closet. Zach took off with his childhood friend Chelsea, drank himself into oblivion, and screwed said friend, making an even bigger mess of his life.
“Took her long enough. Let me guess. ‘Come over’?” he quips.
It was ‘wanna hang out,’ but really it’s the same thing. No need to rub salt in the wound. “Something like that,” I tell him.
“She sent the same message to Evan. What’d you tell her?”
“Nothing.” I scowl. What the fuck does he think? “I’d rather ignore her. I know you say you don’t care, but bottom line, she fucked you over.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like she hurt me. She just pissed me off. Ignoring her will only make her try harder. She loves to play games, and you’re presenting her with a challenge.”
Man, he sure has Reagan pegged for the sleaze she is. Too bad he hadn’t figured this out before she took his man card and shoved it up his ass.
“She needs a dose of reality. Ashton and I aren’t in a relationship, but I think it’s pretty shitty of Reagan to be texting me behind Ashton’s back.”
“I agree. Especially when Ashton stood up for her last night after Lexi nearly ripped her hair out.”
I don’t particularly care for girl drama—I avoid it at all costs—but that’s a fight I would’ve paid money to see.
“I wish I’d been there to see that.” I chuckle. “Evan’s got his hands full with that one.” Lexi is one of the hottest chicks in school, and she’s feisty as hell.
Evan’s lips pull to the side in a smirk, probably because he’s the lucky asshole who gets to bang her. I’ll bet she’s a firecracker in bed.
Jesus, Cole, get your head right. Quit fantasizing about your friend’s girl.
“I saw Lindsay last night at Brad’s,” Zach says, pulling me from my filthy thoughts.
“Miller?” I ask.
He nods. “I’m bringing her to the party today.”
“She wants the D,” Brad adds with a laugh, and I shake my head. Standing from the bench, I move over to my locker to switch out my cleats for my Nikes.
“You trying to hit that?” I ask, turning to smirk at Evan over my shoulder. “I wonder how Grayson would feel about it.”
Grayson and Lindsay dated for like two years. It wasn’t just Reagan cheating on Zach that night; Grayson was also cheating on Lindsay. Talk about humiliating.
I’m an epic asshole and even I wouldn’t do that.
I felt bad for Lindsay.
And maybe a little for Zach, too. He took a hard blow to his ego. But I’ll admit I was relieved that he was finally rid of that hot mess.
Evan shrugs. “He’s the idiot for cheating on her.”
A complete idiot.
Lindsay isn’t a student at Heritage Academy, but we all know her pretty well since she was with Grayson. Lindsay reminds me of Claire. She’s pretty and sweet, the kind of girl you take home to your parents.
Maybe not Zach’s parents. His dad is cool, but Elizabeth Easton would eat Lindsay alive.
Zach needs a girl to keep him on his toes. One who won’t back down from his bitch of a mother.
A girl like Jay.
“Better watch out, Mackenzie. Our boy Zach is gonna steal your playa card,” Dex singsongs and pops me in the ass with his sweaty tank top.
“Zach doesn’t have what it takes to be a player,” I tease, grinning at Zach. “His conscience won’t allow it.”
“That’s because I have one,” he shoots back. There’s my boy. I’ve missed him. “But I’ve done the girlfriend thing,” he adds, “and we all saw how well that worked out. Besides, I don’t need any distractions this year. I’ve gotta keep my head in the game.”
“A hundred bucks says you’ll have a girlfriend by the second week of school,” I challenge.
“What?”
“A hundred bucks—”
“I heard you,” he grits out with a scowl. “Where is this coming from?”
I can’t tell him, but when he finds out Jay’s here, he’s going to lose his mind. And I can’t wait. Instead, I extend my hand.
“Fine.” He clasps his hand with mine and tugs me to his chest. Jeez. When did this motherfucker get so strong? “Be ready to crack open your piggy bank.” He smacks me on the ass, hard, before giving me a little shove, and I laugh.
“Hold up!” Evan walks over. “I want in on this.”
“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” Zach shouts, propping his hands on his hips.
“Something tells me I gotta get in on this.” Brad looks at him. “Sorry, Zach. Count me in, Mackenzie.”
“Me, too,” Dex says, jerking his chin at me.
“Are you guys serious?” Zach asks incredulously.
“Sorry, Zach, but I gotta get in on this, too,” Justin laughs.
“You guys are dicks.” Zach glances around the locker room as if he’s searching for a hidden camera. “Is this a joke? Did you sign me up on Tinder or something?” He looks so perplexed.
“Oh, come on, Zach.” Evan chuckles, smacking him on the back. “Having a girlfriend isn’t a bad thing. You just gotta find the right girl.”
Zach rolls his eyes. “Easy for you to say, Evan. Your girlfriend isn’t a whore.” He pauses to scan our faces with a pensive expression. “Okay, assholes, you better have my money when it’s time to pay up.”
“YOU FUCKERS READY to party?” Brad shouts, throwing his arms over both mine and Zach’s shoulders.
“I need to pick something up first,” I tell them. “Give me a half hour or so.” I turn to Evan. “E, you want me to swing by and pick you up on the way?”
“Nah, Lexi’s driving,” Evan says before climbing in his truck.
“You need me to pick you up?” I ask Zach.
“Nah, I gotta pick up Lindsay.”
“All right.” I nod. “I’ll see you in thirty.” I twist my shirt around and pop Brad in the chest.
“Ow! Dick.”
“Later, pussies.” I laugh before turning and jogging over to my Tahoe.
On the way to my house, I pass by Carter’s just as he and Smith are climbing out of his car. I tap the horn as I come to a stop in front of his driveway and roll down the passenger window. Smith gives me a quick wave before heading inside as Carte
r makes his way over to my truck.
He leans with his forearms resting on the open window ledge.
“Hey,” he says. “You just get done with practice?”
“Yeah. Where were you?”
He jerks his head toward the house. “Smith had a doctor’s appointment. It was the only time I could get him in.”
I nod in understanding, but really I’d like to take a baseball bat to Dane Nixon’s knees for being such a shitty father. I seriously hate that guy.
“Next time tell me and I’ll ask Mac to get you an appointment so you don’t have to miss practice.”
He shrugs. “It’s cool. Was Coach pissed? I texted him.”
“Coach is always pissed.” I chuckle. “But he didn’t seem all that put out because you weren’t there to grace him with your handsome face.”
Carter snorts. “You going to Brad’s?”
“Yeah.” I nod in the direction of my house. “I need to shower first, and I promised Willow I’d be back before her nap. Then I gotta pick up Jay.”
“She’s here already?” Carter is the only one outside the family who knew she was coming.
I nod. “She got in last night. She asked me not to tell Zach.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “She said she wants to surprise him.”
“Today should be interesting.”
“Yeah.” I smirk. “Especially since he’s bringing Lindsay Miller to the party.”
Carter throws his head back and laughs. “Dude, that’s just wrong. He’s gonna be so pissed at you.”
I shrug. “Not my problem.”
Carter shakes his head.
“Do you want me to pick you up on my way back?” Brad’s house is at the back of our neighborhood, on the beach. It’s a short drive but a long walk.
“Nah, you go ahead. I’ll catch a ride with Justin or Dex.”
“All right. I’ll see you there?” I ask, wondering if he’ll really show up.
He nods and taps the roof of my SUV as he takes a step back.
“Oh, I’ll be there,” he states matter-of-factly. “I wouldn’t miss out on seeing you get your ass kicked.”
I snort. Zach and I have never been in a fight, much less an argument. Ever. However, a tiny sliver of dread sinks to the bottom of my stomach. He’s gonna be so pissed. But what can I do?