Beach Reads

by Adriana Locke

  “Just?”

  Several questions roll into that one. Asking if he feels it. Asking if he wants it; wants me. Asking if he still…

  “If you don’t want to go, I can’t make you,” Justice says abruptly, stepping out of my arms, and offering me the remote. I don’t respond; can’t seem to make myself take the remote, so he leaves it on the desk and starts for the door. Something doused all the heat, and I shiver in the wake of the icy glance he freezes me with.

  “I’ll go.” I throw the words at his back, hoping he’ll turn around.

  “Leaving in twenty minutes.” He shrugs and keeps moving forward. “Up to you.”

  It is up to me. If things are going to be made right between us, it’s up to me. I’ll have to start where we ended; with that night. With Barkley and what I did. With all the feelings I was too frightened and too young to handle. I didn’t want to lose Justice; didn’t want to risk the bond we’d always shared for what might have been passing hormones.

  But after that night, he left me anyway.

  For five years he’s been gone, and even with my mother’s death, with all the grief and confusion of it – he is back in my life.

  And I mean for him to stay.

  “I’m not staying long, okay?” Justice climbs out of the car when we arrive at the party, waiting for me to get out. “I want to show my face, see Margo and the gang for a little while, then head out.”

  “Hot date?”

  As soon as I say it, I know it is the absolute wrong thing to say. He looks at me like a bug in his salad before he drops a veil over his displeasure.

  “With a case file, yeah.” He looks straight ahead, not breaking stride toward the front door of the house where Margo grew up. “I’ve applied for this internship. It’d be working on the case of a lifetime.”

  Justice looks back at the car, then to the front door like I have him trapped between escape hatches, not volunteering any more information. My smile wilts. How many teeth did I have to pull to get this little bit of information from him? He doesn’t want to share anything with me anymore.

  “Guess we’d better get in there then, huh?” My voice sounds small and defeated, but I’m not giving up. I will make things as right as they can be. I’ll make him discuss that night with me. Later.

  “Yeah, guess so.”

  * * *

  An hour later, I want to remind Justice about the precious case he needs to get home and study for. He doesn’t seem too worried about it with that little blonde clinging to him like a leech. He’s leaning against the wall, and Little Miss Highlights is pressing a fake boob into the muscled arm folded across his chest.

  “Still got it bad, huh?”

  I stop glaring daggers at the little tart all over Justice and look into Margo’s amused brown eyes.

  “Whadda you mean?” There is no way I’m going there, or anywhere near there with Margo in the middle of this crowded party.

  “You’ve been drilling holes into that poor girl’s head for the last twenty minutes with the looks you’ve been giving her.”

  I give up on faking it.

  “She’s not even that pretty. What makes her think he’d give her the time of day?”

  “Because he is?” Margo takes a swig of her Margarita. “You burned that bridge yourself, Fi. You’ll have to build a new one if you want Justice.”

  I don’t answer, only take a long draw of my own fruity drink. I spare them another glance. Booby is on her delicate tippy toes now, reaching up to whisper in Justice’s ear, her hand resting on one broad shoulder. I chew at the inside of my bottom lip until my eyes water. And it still doesn’t hurt as much as seeing him with another girl.

  “You could have him.” Margo leans against the counter loaded with everything from the fanciest of hors d'oeuvres, to Buffalo wings. “You know that, right?”

  “Let. It. Go.” I fire a don’t-push-me-on-this look Margo’s way.

  She scrunches her face up like a pretty accordion. “Can I say one more thing before the subject of Justice is off limits?”

  I use only my eyes to ask if I really have any choice.

  “I invited Barkley when I saw him at a club in New York last week,” she confesses with a wince. “He told me he’d be visiting his mother here in Merryn Bay, and I said to swing through. I didn’t expect him to take me up on it.”

  Margo tips her chin toward the door. “But it looks like he did.”

  I glance toward the door, groaning under my breath. The very reason Justice is shutting me out just walked through the door. I haven’t seen Barkley since high school, though he called and emailed me a few times those first few years.

  “At least you don’t have to worry about them being in the same room anymore.” Margo nods her head toward the stairs leading to the basement. Booby has her hand wrapped around Justice’s wrist and pulls him down the stairs and out of view.

  “I need some air.”

  I don’t bother checking to see if Margo heard. Thoughts of what Justice and Blonde Booby are doing downstairs python my brain, squeezing out more of my sanity. I flex my fingers into claws with thoughts of pulling the girl’s hair out, lock by bleached lock.

  I step out onto the deck and consider the stars glinting overhead. A crack of thunder, followed by a flare of lightning in the sky make me jump. Nothing like a summer storm. How many nights did Justice and I watch storms brewing from our balcony? If only I could reach back and shake that girl who thought her stunt with Barkley was a good idea.

  I lean forward, elbows resting on the deck’s railing, and close my eyes against the hot tears blurring the stars splattered in the sky above. I jump a little when a set of muscular arms slips alongside mine on the railing. Taut, mahogany skin and a network of tattoos cover those arms. A hard body presses me from behind. Hot breath in my ear scuttles a shudder along my shoulders and neck. I turn around to face Barkley for the first time in five years.

  “Hey, Bark.” I put a hand between us, pressing his chest, forcing him to take some of the heat with him when he steps back.

  “Long time, no see.” Barkley sounds calm and unaffected, but I feel the heavy, hectic thump of his heart beneath my hand.

  Barkley’s eyes crawl all over me at once, skimming the hair I’ve left hanging around my bare shoulders. Slipping over the cleavage that is barely revealed, but he seems determined to see. Sliding over my long legs beneath the flare of the skirt that now feels too short.

  He slants me a grin that would wet most girls’ panties. “Damn, you look good.”

  I force a laugh. His gangliness is gone, replaced by muscle wrapped around his well-conditioned frame. “Thanks for the compliment. I didn’t expect you to have anything nice to say after how things ended.”

  Another flash of lighting illuminates Barkley’s face tightening the tiniest bit, but he doesn’t answer. Just slathers his eyes all over my body again like I’m something tasty he’s buttering up.

  “I’m sorry things didn’t work out.” I focus on the tattoo of his mother’s name inked into his neck, too uncomfortable with the memory between us to meet his eyes.

  “We could make up for lost time, right?” Barkley lifts a handful of my hair, watching it fall before looking back into my eyes. “Can’t say I haven’t thought about you over the last few years.”

  “Tell me another one. You’re in the NBA. I’m sure there have been plenty of girls to make you forget me.”

  “But the one who got away.” Barkley shakes his head, but his eyes stay steady, trapping me where I stand on the deck. “That’s the itch you always wanna scratch. Especially when you never gave me another chance. You never returned my calls.”

  “I know.” I hadn’t wanted to revisit the act that had driven a super-sized wedge between Justice and me. And I really hadn’t seen the point. “I’m sorry about that.”

  He leans down and before I can stop him, brushes his lips across mine. I pull back, but he moves forward, pushing his tongue between my lips. His hands seem to
only have gotten bigger.

  “Bark, no.” I say the words against his mouth before jerking my head back.

  I take a small step to the side, needing to free myself from the trap of his hands and body. This isn’t the boy I grew up with in our old neighborhood, The Heights, before my mom was sent away and I lived with Grams. Not my first boyfriend who had been fine with taking it slow.

  “It was good seeing you again, but I’d better go.” I manage another step, putting a couple more inches between us. “Justice is probably wondering where I am.”

  “Wow. Still Justice, huh?”

  Barkley’s words slither across my nerves, and I see an old anger take over his face before he tucks it away.

  “I’m staying with the Kenners this summer.” I don’t have to defend it, but even I hear the hackles raised in my voice. “Not sure if you heard about my Mom.”

  For the first time, there he is. Just a glimpse of him – that boy I raced through the streets in The Heights.

  “I did hear.” The hard line of his mouth softens a little. “Sorry I didn’t make it to the funeral. We were trying to make playoffs, and I couldn’t miss a game.”

  “I didn’t expect you to.” I note irritation evident on his face at my remark. “What I mean is your mom was there, and I knew how busy you must be.”

  “So you have kept up with me?”

  “You’re doing your thing in the NBA, in New York, the largest market in the country. It’d be hard not to know what’s been going on with you.”

  “How long you in town?”

  “I’m not sure.” I lean a hip against the deck railing, subtly inserting another comfort-giving inch or two between us. “Waiting to hear back from a few volleyball teams.”

  “Who’d have thought two kids from The Heights would end up professional athletes?”

  I relax my mouth into a smile, and wish I could relax my insides, too. Ill-concealed lust has a way of making me nervous.

  “I’m no pro yet.”

  “You will be.” Barkley reaches for my hand, pulling me close again. “Come out with me tomorrow night. I’ve got a charity event here in town. Be my date.”

  “I don’t think that’d be a good idea, Bark.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s just-it’s just not going anywhere.”

  “You don’t know till you try.”

  “We did try, Bark.”

  I fiddle with my star charm bracelet, wondering how much longer

  Justice wants to stay. I look through the glass door leading back into the house, but see no sign of him. He’s probably still in the basement with Blonde Booby. My fists close tight at my sides, but I’d prefer them clamped around Blonde Booby’s neck. Or Justice’s.

  “Let’s try again.” Barkley runs one finger down the side of my neck where my hair falls away. I jerk back.

  “Barkley, no. Can you just drop it?”

  His hand freezes in mid-air. His body stiffens with the affront. His brown eyes are iced chocolate.

  “So it’s like that? Still wanna fuck your own brother, huh?” Barkley’s words stab me like an ice pick.

  “How dare you,” I fire back.

  “When can I get it, Fi? I knew you first.”

  “Never, Bark. You won’t ever get it.”

  Without another word, I head back inside. Every muscle in my body tenses, shielding me from his crudity. I’ve had enough. I’m ready to go. There’s no sign of Margo. I need to find Justice.

  And then I see the person who can probably point me in the right direction.

  Blonde Booby, standing at the counter nibbling on a stalk of celery, has dark roots up close. I’d bet my last dollar if I stick a pin in those boobs, she’ll go flying around the room.

  “Hey, excuse me.”

  The girl glances up from her rabbit food, looking me up and down with the female suspicion I got used to in high school.

  “Yeah?”

  “You were talking to a guy earlier.”

  “I talked to lots of guys tonight.”

  “There was one guy in particular. About six four. Blonde hair. Blue eyes.”

  “Oh, yeah. Justice.” She licks her gloss-coated lips like they carry traces of something sweet.

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “Yeah, he left. Unfortunately. That one…whew. He’s Hall of Fame material, if you know what I mean.”

  “What do you mean he left?” I ignore the comment and the girl’s slick-mouthed pout.

  “He said he had some studying to do. Apparently he goes to Harvard. Hot and smart. I gave him my number. I hope he—”

  “He won’t.” I slice the girl with a disdainful look before stomping off and slamming straight into a brick wall of chest. My eyes climb up, up and up. Barkley’s face wears his apology.

  “I was hoping I’d find you.” His voice and eyes are softer than they’ve been all night. “I’m sorry about that last comment. I’m an asshole. My old jealousy.”

  “You have no right to be jealous. None, Bark.” I spike my voice with contempt. “I’m sorry for how things ended, but that still gives you no right to—”

  “I know. I know. I had no right, and I’m sorry.” He extends his hand. “Friends again?”

  I know it isn’t that simple, and sense more skulking behind his affable smile, but I shake his hand anyway. I’ll take him at face value. After all the years we’ve known each other, and after how I used him so cruelly that last night, I owe him this at least.

  “So, I guess that date tomorrow night is still out, huh?” Barkley keeps his tone light, but I know he’d snatch the opportunity if I was willing.

  But I’m not.

  “I don’t think we should, Bark.” I gave him the smile that used to charm him into trading sandwiches at lunch. “But would you take me home?”

  Seven

  Fiona

  When did Justice start wearing glasses?

  The lamp from his desk spills a circle of light into the otherwise darkened bedroom. He’s hunched over an open file. Several books form leaning towers of intelligentsia on either side of him.

  “You left me.” I don’t raise my voice one iota. Just leave it low where his ears will have to pick the anger out, debone it like a fish.

  “Saw you and Barkley out on the deck,” he says, not looking up from his oh-so-fascinating legal brief. “Assumed you had a ride.”

  “Yeah, well you know what they say about assumptions.”

  He raises one snobby brow without lifting his head. He hasn’t looked my way not once since I stomped up the stairs, making sure he knew I was coming. Not once since I’ve stood in his doorway waiting for him to acknowledge me.

  “Refresh my memory. What do they say about them?”

  “They make an ass out of you.” I stalk over to the desk with borrowed swagger. “Are you an ass, Justice?”

  He lays his black-rimmed glasses on the desk and runs his tongue over his top teeth, a sure sign that he’s trying to hold onto his temper.

  Like he has a right to be mad? He left me.

  “Not last time I checked,” he replied, finally looking at me.

  “Well check again!”

  I throw my arm out, sweeping all his Harvard books to the floor. Papers from the file he was reading waft in the air, settling around our feet like oversized snowflakes.

  “Dammit, Fi!” Justice springs up like the summer storm brewing outside over the ocean. On his feet, he focuses all that category five energy on me, not even scrambling for his books or grabbing at the papers. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

  “You ask me that?” I take a bold step forward.

  “You stomp in here like a child.” He punctuates the insult with a finger in the air between us.

  “Oh, I’m a child now, am I?” I prop my fists on my hips and cock my head to the side. “Why did you leave me tonight?”

  “I already told you. Looked like Barkley had it. Sorry if I misunderstood.”

  “You don�
��t look sorry. You look mad.”

  “Nope. Couldn’t care less.”

  “I guess not, what with little Blonde Booby Doll all over you.”

  “Are you shitting me right now?” Dark clouds gather on his face. “You don’t want me, but no one else should either?”

  “Who said I don’t want you?”

  “You said it when you fucked Barkley that night five years ago!”

  This is it. I have to settle this now if we are ever going to move on. Resolve lances the swollen blister of my anger, and the dark emotion drains away.

  “I want you in my life, Justice.” I make my voice so soft he’ll have no choice but to hear the lonely desperation I don’t want to hide anymore.

  I look down at my flip flops before braving a glance back up at him. “That’s why we need to talk about that night.”

  “I’m not doing this.” If possible, he seems to grow more rigid with every word. With every breath.

  “We have to if we’re going to make things right.”

  “Aw, look at that,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Baby girl wants her big brother back.”

  “Yes! Wait, no. I mean…”

  “Just as confused as ever. Like I said. A child. Spare me that shit.”

  He turns on his heel and crosses over to the balcony. He jerks the door open and slams it. I’m right behind him, opening and closing the door with more care.

  Eight

  Justice

  I stretch my arms out to either side, palms flattened on the balcony railing. Tension corkscrews up my spine and digs into the muscles of my shoulders. I heave a deep breath, waiting for a calm that isn’t coming. That never comes when Fiona’s close.

  “Justice.”