by Ella Fields
Forever and Never
Copyright © 2019 by Ella Fields
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, copied, resold or distributed in any form, or by any electronic or mechanical means, without permission in writing from the author, except for brief quotations within a review.
This book is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Six Years Later
Also by Ella Fields
About the Author
Acknowledgements
For Michelle
with endless love.
Took me long enough
Forever is a curse
for a broken heart to nurse
Daphne
His eyes were windows to uncharted waters. The unpredictable kind that could either carry you to shore or lash you repeatedly until you run out of oxygen.
Out of all the reasons I steered clear of Lars Bradby, it was the storm that slept in his eyes that kept my heart from running away, exploring, and eventually, sinking.
As he stood across the room from me, his lips curled to the right, I reminded myself yet again. Look, admire, daydream—hell, even fantasize—but never, under any circumstances, should I take it any further than that.
Lars Bradby was the king of taking it further than that.
Bodies pressed against one another. The lights flickered. Shouting and laughter filled every corner and crevice of Sydney Summer’s bayside home. The overstimulation became nothing but a blanket of white noise as I raised my drink and wrapped my lips around the straw.
Lars’s expression blanked, his face an unreadable map of bottomless eyes, sharp-whiskered slopes, and full-pillowed lips.
The cool liquid slid down my throat, and I watched, transfixed, as he tunneled a hand into his dark hair. Strands swept aside and sky high, a few rogue pieces falling to sprinkle over his forehead.
I hadn’t realized I’d stopped drinking and that my lips were merely air around the straw until that infamous smirk of his returned.
Faking a smile that shook, I winked at him before turning and sauntering off into the crowded living room. A little air would do me good.
Near the back door, I found Kayla bouncing around, and when she saw me, a huge, overbearing smile climbed into place. “Daph, hey.”
I waved but otherwise ignored her and the affronted look pulling at her pretty elfish features.
Two types of girls attended this party. Attended most parties, really. The ones who got blackout drunk and woke up barely remembering a thing, and the ones who pretended to be drunk to keep up appearances while knowing they’d have nothing to feel embarrassed about the next day. No ammunition to be used against them, yet plenty to use against others.
Kayla fell into the latter category.
Me? I didn’t think I fit into any snug box. I drank merely to unwind. To feel my blood warm and my muscles relax. I’d just turned eighteen. Most would say I didn’t have a reason to feel tense, but most were not the daughter of a miserable surgeon and a callous lingerie model.
Expectation was such a fun-sucking leech.
Summer’s yard was all sprawling lawn penned in by tall hedges, and save for a group of people gathered around the oversized table in the corner, it was relatively empty.
As far as parties go, this one rated average. Summer kept the invites to a minimum. Not in hopes of alleviating too much damage to her parents’ home, but to place more importance on her too thin shoulders. As if curating a party like this would make her coveted. A chosen one to seek out among the riffraff of Magnolia Cove Prep.
She wasn’t special.
None of us were.
A swinging chair sat abandoned toward the back of the half-acre deep property overlooking the bay. I moved toward it, my shoulders loosening with each step I took away from the desperation, lust, and misery polluting the air behind me.
The moon hung low, gracing the charcoal water with slivers of silver. Across the bay sat tree capped woods, and beside them, what was often referred to as the average side of town.
Rich people loved labels.
I plucked at the one wrapped around my bottle of cotton candy-flavored vodka, and then I felt it.
The grass swished as he approached. Not lightly, as if to give me warning or time to flee before it was too late.
I was comfortable right where I was.
The chair creaked and dipped as he parked himself on it.
“I don’t remember inviting you to sit with me.”
“We both know I don’t need an invitation, sweet stuff.”
I swung my head at him, taking in the shadowed profile and that irritating smirk. “Sweet stuff?”
He gestured to my drink. “You like sweet shit. Yet you’re so far from sweet, it’s not funny.” The moon lit a glimmer in his dark eyes. “I love a good contradiction.”
The bass from the house was nothing but a humming thud, the kind thunder made in the distance before rolling in. Except it wouldn’t.
The storm I’d continuously dodged had caught me and now sat next to me. “Sure, let’s pretend you know me well enough to make lovely little assumptions.” I took a long sip of my drink, feeling his eyes on my profile as I steered mine back to the water.
“You make it hard to get to know you since you’re always avoiding me.” He kicked a leg over his knee and lit a cigarette. “Afraid of me, sweet stuff?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What flavor is your drink?”
I frowned, then snorted out a laugh. “Who cares?”
It was snatched from my hand, and I watched, helpless and kind of fascinated, as Lars took a lengthy sip. He smacked his lush lips together afterward, his thumb rubbing at the half-peeled label. “Cotton candy.”
“Give it back.” I held my hand out.
“Not until you answer my question.”
I slumped against the cushioned seat. “Fine. Keep it.”
The bottle appeared in front of me, and without looking at Lars, I took it from his large hair-dusted hand, being careful not to touch him.
The bottle was warm where he’d held it. I tucked it between my thighs, then kicked at the ground to set the swing in motion.
It wasn’t a cigarette. The scent of weed blanketed the air, and I closed my eyes, inhaling it. “I’m not afraid of you. I simply don’t want to sleep with you.”
Lars coughed. “Who said anything about fucking?”
“Crass,” I said, tutting. I gave him a look, then snatched the blunt from his fingers. His eyes tracked its journey to my lips, narrowing. I exhaled, ignoring the urge to cough. “And why else would Lars Bradby be eyeing me up and down like some exotic burrito?” I raised a brow as I took one more drag.
“Exotic burrito?” He laughed. “You think rather highly of yourself.” He took the blunt back.
I shrugged, a smile forming as my mind clouded. “You’re every pretty girl’s fuckboy. Don’t act like you don’t know and love it.”
“Every?” He had the audacity to sound affronted.
“You’re not known to discriminate.”
Lars huffed, taking a long drag before flicking the roach to the ground. “And you’re not known to sugarcoat. Guess that stands true.”
“Rumors are fabulous things.”
“Not a rumor,” he said. I glanced at him, and he surveyed my hair, face, and then my chest, taking his time. “Just something I’ve noticed.”
I withheld a shiver from his dark appraisal. “Stalking me, are you?”
“Since freshman year.” Then he added, almost too quiet for me to hear, “Not that you’ve noticed.”
Oh, I’d noticed. Though I doubted it’d been anywhere near that long. I laughed, the sound free-falling into the night. “Too funny.” When he said nothing and only smiled, my laughter died. “You’re serious.” He couldn’t be.
“Dead serious.”
Blinking, I drained most of my drink before placing the bottle on the grass, then shifted to face him, my knee rising to the cushion. “I’m really not all that interesting.”
“Uh-huh.” He swatted away a mosquito. “We never consider ourselves to be all that interesting, though, do we?”
The way he’d uttered that question fascinated me, so I supposed he was right. “True.”
He looked down at his beer can. “Sophomore year, I finally dredged up the courage to ask you to homecoming, and you told me to …”
I ducked my head, just now remembering. “To take a hike.”
“And that you don’t associate with average boys.”
I didn’t remember that part, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen. “So what, you want an apology? Is that why you’ve been staring at me?” I sighed, waving a hand. “I’ve gotta say, that’s kind of creepy, but I’ll stroke that ego if it—”
He made a clicking sound. “Cotton candy.”
I frowned, and he flashed me a glimpse of his teeth. “I’ve watched you for years. The only reason you notice now is because you’ve decided, for whatever reason, to watch me too.” That should’ve been creepy. Should’ve.
“So …” He lifted the beer to his lips, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “Have you decided you’d like to try this average guy on for size?”
I was still processing all he’d said, trying to piece together the times I’d caught him looking at me, or the times he’d tried to talk to me or shot dick-ish comments at me. “No.” I shook my head, then directed my gaze back to the water. “And it’s not because you’re average.”
“Is it because I’m a, what’d you call it, fuckboy?”
I smothered a laugh with the back of my hand. “No.”
“Because I’d be a reformed one for you. Just say the word.”
I didn’t know why, but I felt inclined to believe him. I leaned closer, letting my eyes absorb their fill of him, the slant to his thick brows and the harsh cut of his cheekbones. The scent of weed and some type of laundry detergent drifted off him. A stark difference to the cologne-riddled boys inside Summer’s house.
Lars attended Magnolia Cove Prep on scholarship, but that hadn’t stopped him from becoming a coveted item. If anything, it just upped the bad-boy factor.
Yet it didn’t make one bit of difference to me.
I couldn’t have him. I couldn’t have anyone unless it was in small doses.
If I’d learned anything in my short time on this earth, it was that life was hell-bent on turning everyone you loved against you. Pick your friends wisely, select your enemies with meticulous patience, and always, always put yourself first.
I couldn’t put myself first if I cared for anyone more than I did myself. That didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of my limits.
Not tonight, though. Tonight, I’d dabble. I’d humor him and whatever fantasies he’d concocted in his wildest dreams, and then I’d go home and take care of myself, knowing he was going to do the same.
I grabbed his cheek, letting the smooth skin above his whiskered jaw soak into mine. “Don’t go changing for me, fuckboy. I can promise you, I’m not worth it.” Then I leaned in, my lips covering his in a gentle, swift move.
As if he’d planned or hoped this would happen, it only took him a heartbeat to be all-in. His arm swept me over him, and I squealed when the swing dipped, and I felt him hard against my panties through my dress.
He chuckled, and I ate the sound, swallowing the caustic timbre as my eyes shut. His lips were beer-coated velvet, coaxing mine apart. No tongue entered, but his bottom lip slipped between mine, skimming the underside of my top one.
The breeze from the bay caressed my thighs as his hands threaded into my hair. My own were lost and found as they drifted from his face to the thick forest of his. My heart thudded a foolish beat, one that hurt as it kick-started fresh blood through my veins. Changed. Kissing this man could change a woman if she wasn’t careful.
When our tongues finally met, it was a soft dance of familiarization. A dance that contorted into a choreographed routine that felt both old and new in a place that was neither.
The unexpectedness of it was dizzying, lights flaring and bursting behind shut lids as my pulse thudded through my skull.
“God,” he said, his exhale heating my chin and lips as he kissed every inch of skin around my mouth. “You taste like a fucking dream, only better. A candy-shrouded dream.”
I wasn’t sure anyone had ever said such words to me before, and most definitely not like that. I chose to respond with a forced laugh that I knew he saw through.
He froze, then pulled my face back to smile at me, his lips and eyes glazed. “Don’t. Don’t fake it with me, Daphne.”
He said it as though he believed we’d have more encounters like this.
I set him straight with a smile of my own, rubbing my teeth over my tingling bottom lip. Tipping his chin up with a finger, I whispered against his lips, “Then you’ll have to make it so good, I’ll forget all the times I have.”
His eyes darkened, and his jaw stiffened beneath my finger. I ignored the primal response and shut my eyes as I laid one last lingering kiss to his perfect lips.
He tried to catch me as I rolled off him and stood, but he gave up when I became a fading shadow. “I’ll hold you to that.” I touched my lips as the wind carried his gentle, “Later, Cotton Candy.”
There’d be no later.
Or maybe there’d be too many.
Only time would tell.
Lars
I woke up with a raging hard-on.
The house was quiet, eerily so, as I rolled to my stomach and shoved my face into the pillow.
Had it been a dream? No, and my dick throbbed as a result of the reminder of her lips on mine.
Smooth, candy-flavored sin wrapped in a teenage dream.
In vivid clarity, I could remember the very first time I’d laid eyes on Daphne Morris.
During the second semester of freshman year, I’d transferred from the public school. After collecting my schedule from the principal’s office, who was consequently now my mom’s boyfriend, I saw her standing outside the music room on the mildew-scented third floor of Magnolia Cove Preparatory.
She’d had her compact mirror open to inspect her teeth, which had some clear braces over them or some shit. I didn’t care. I’d have inspected them for her, but she’d never let me get within breathing distance.
I didn’t know if I believed in love at first sight, but I believed in
something at first sight. Something that snuck up on you and slammed your feet to the spot. Something that caused your eyes to open wider and view the world differently than you had before. Something that made my heart vibrate and change its tempo every time she came into view.
Not because I was some foolish romantic, but because that was what happened.
A crush, I’d told myself as she’d ignored every effort I’d made in the years since to get close to her. It was nothing but a crush.
It’d made sense, for every time she’d acted like I was a fly she needed to flick away, it had crushed me. Deflated the balloon in my chest that grew ten sizes whenever she was near.
But crushes fade, and this feeling, the one that had grown wings and was preparing to take flight, made my breath quicken when I remembered the way she’d looked at me with something other than indifference or derision.
Lust, perhaps. Or curiosity. I didn’t care. I didn’t care because whatever it was, it was something I could work with. You couldn’t work with nothing.
I didn’t care that she’d scrunched her nose at me the first time I’d seen her outside that music room, and said, “Ew, get lost,” before I could finish saying hello.
None of her attempts to ignore me mattered now that she’d actually looked at me. Touched me. Climbed over me and kissed me.
With a groan I hoped Mom wouldn’t hear, I kicked my briefs off and reached beneath my body to fist my cock, rocking my hips into the mattress.
Before I came, I rose onto my knees, my forehead pressing hard into my pillow as I pictured her dark hair splayed across it, the spark in her verdant eyes aglow with need. “Jesus, fuck.”
I scrambled off the bed, dizzy and breathing heavier than I should be after jacking off, and cracked open the door with the hand that wasn’t loaded with my spunk.
Quiet.
I darted across the hall to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and winced as the water took its time to warm. Drops of cum washed away between my fingers as I spread them open and used the other hand to hold myself up while I reconnected with the world.
I’d fucked many chicks before I’d turned eighteen two weeks ago but never had I walked away feeling as though I’d lost my footing. If this was what it felt like after merely kissing her, I was kind of worried I was going to have a coronary when she let me inside her cunt.