Destiny Ever-Changing

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Destiny Ever-Changing Page 15

by Ivey , Tasha


  "Do you have enough, or do you want to keep looking?" Brooks asks as he stoops to dig through the sand.

  "I was hoping to find a conch shell. My mom's journal says that they're special."

  "I've always heard that, but I'm just not seeing any, sorry."

  "Oh, it's fine," I shrug, not wanting to admit my disappointment. "I have plenty. Let's get going."

  For the first time, Brooks invites me into his home. I could tell by looking at the outside that the house is quite extravagant, but it certainly exceeds my expectations. Nana's house would fit inside the formal living room easily. The kitchen is filled with top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances and every amenity one could dream of. The living room boasts vaulted ceilings and is drenched in pristine white throughout, making me afraid to touch anything.

  "Make yourself at home," Brooks says as he opens the fridge. "Can I get you something to drink?"

  I perch myself up on a bar stool, not brave enough to set foot anywhere else. "No, thanks. I'm fine."

  He laughs at me as he rounds the corner of the bar, grabbing my elbow and gently tugging. "Come on. I'm not going to let you sit here in this kitchen while you wait. Come into my room, and you can wait there."

  I resist his urging. "I would be more comfortable here than in the bedroom you share with Jacqueline, I promise you!"

  "When I said, 'my room' I meant it," he explains, finally convincing me to follow. "We shared the master bedroom upstairs for the first few days we were here, but then I started sleeping in one of the guest rooms."

  "Oh . . ."

  Once we turn down the broad hallway, he opens the door to the first room on the right and stops to allow me to enter first. The room is slightly bigger than mine is, but just as homey. It isn't at all like the rest of the house. The rich brown comforter on the neatly made bed contrasts beautifully with the pale green walls, and the simple furnishings and wood floor emanate an inviting feel. "Have a seat. The TV remote is on the nightstand."

  When he walks into his closet, I seat myself on the hard, narrow bench at the foot of the bed and cross my legs, pulling my dress down neatly over my knees. He steps out of the closet with his clothes draped over his arm and pauses to shake his head at me. "Nope. Not there either."

  "What do you mean? I'm not sitting on your bed and getting sand all over it. Not to mention the fact that it's all made up, and I would destroy it."

  He carefully lays his clothes beside me on the bench, and he silently points to the bed with a teasing scowl on his face.

  "Can't make me," I joke, which was the wrong thing to say. And a slight flicker of mischievousness on his face tells me so. He takes one step toward me and picks me up effortlessly, throwing me over one shoulder. With his free hand, he yanks the blankets back causing one of the pillows to rocket across the room, and he tosses me onto the bed. Not willing to give up so easy, I try to stand again, but he blocks the side of the bed. Thinking fast, I spin my legs around in the other direction to get off on the other side, and he bounds over the bed to stop me. I squeal loudly as he catches me, and we both tumble back onto the bed. Both of us are laughing so hard that we are practically incapacitated.

  "Now look at what you did. You messed up my bed!" He pretends to be annoyed.

  "Isn't that every girl's dream?" I am only half joking as I poke him in the ribs.

  "Your dream, maybe," he kids. "You're the one that dragged me into bed."

  I elbow him in his side. "Oh, geez. Don't you have a shower to take?"

  "Now look at you," he says as he rolls over to face me, "trying to get me in the shower."

  "That's your dream," I mock.

  He jumps up off the bed and grabs his clothes. "I'm not going to go there." He winks and disappears into the hallway after closing the door behind him.

  Friendship with the opposite sex sure can get frustrating. I roll over on my side and bury my face in his pillow. Pretending that his charm doesn't have an effect on me is exhausting, but as I lie here in his bed, my resolve is weakening. As painful as it is for me to admit to myself, I would have thoroughly enjoyed messing up his bed with him and having the opportunity to feel his strong body against me and his soft lips touching mine.

  The thoughts of his touch send goose bumps all over my body, so I pull the sheet up to my shoulders and snuggle down into his pillow. I close my eyes and breathe in his inebriating scent, completely enjoying a moment that would only be more perfect if he were sharing the bed with me. I suppose I'll have to settle for cuddling with his blankets.

  "Laura." A deep whisper rouses me from a semi-unconscious haze as a gentle touch caresses my arm.

  "Oh, hey Brooks," I mumble sleepily. "Are you ready to go?"

  He chuckles. "I've already been to the store, but I'll take you home if you're ready."

  "What? When did you go?" I sit up so fast that my head spins.

  "You were asleep when came back in, so I let you rest. Did you know that you talk in your sleep?" He looks at me with a knowing grin.

  "I can't believe I fell asleep! What did I say?"

  "I couldn't understand everything you said, but . . ." he leans closer to whisper in my ear, "let's just say that it took everything I had to not get in that bed with you."

  I let out an exasperated moan and bury my face into my hands.

  Brooks chuckles and ruffles my hair. "No worries. I thought it was kinda cute." He takes one of my hands and pulls me up off the bed. "Come on, let's get you home. You have a cookout to get ready for."

  Chapter Fourteen — Hard Truths

  Brooks:

  I finally drag Laura out to my truck, so I can take her home to get ready for the cookout tonight. The short ride over to her house is quiet, but I know she isn't upset with me this time . . . she's embarrassed. She doesn't even have much to say when I drop her off, just a quick goodbye.

  "Hey," I yell out the window, "if you don't show up, you know I'll come looking for you. Six o'clock . . . if you're not there, I'm sending out a search party." I watch her as she stops short of the garage, spins around, and walks half the distance back to my truck.

  "I'll be there, and I'll even act like I'm happy about hanging out with Will."

  "Ha ha," I pretend to laugh. "Tell you what, how about I send him to pick you up."

  She walks up to my open window. "No, that's not necessary. I'll drive myself."

  "I'll have him here at six sharp, so be ready. He'll be driving my truck. You know that I'll win, so there's no use in arguing with me."

  She stomps her foot on the ground. "Ugh, sometimes you drive me insane! You're impossible!"

  "Now, is that any way to talk to your best friend? I'm just looking out for you." I can tell that my broad smile is affecting her; she is trying hard to maintain her look of fury.

  "Who said you were my best friend, anyway?"

  I just smirk. "See you in a couple of hours."

  As I drive back home, I should be making a mental to-do list, but all I can think about is Laura. I found it quite entertaining to find her asleep in my bed when I got out of the shower earlier. I could hear her unconscious muttering as soon as I walked into the room, so I sneaked around the bed to see if I could distinguish anything. The majority was unrecognizable, but what I did hear blew me away.

  She has hidden her attraction to me fairly well these last few days, but her sleep talking confirmed that she is struggling with the same desires that I am. When she said, "Brooks, please . . . just hold me . . . I don't want Will, I want you," I sat down on the floor beside the bed, reeling in her words. That tiny peek into her subconscious made me want to give in to the furtive longing that I have for her.

  As soon as I walk into the house, Ashton darts into the kitchen to greet me, giving me a firm bear hug. "Hey there, big brother! Where did you take off to so early this morning?"

  I return the embrace. "Nine o'clock is hardly early. I went for a run. Hey, did you get your luggage?"

  "Sure did," she says. "I even did a lit
tle shopping on the way back."

  "Will took you shopping? Seriously?" I know my friend, and you can't pay the guy to even drive through a department store parking lot.

  "Uh huh. He even bought a shirt that I said would look good on him. Why?"

  Interesting. "Oh, just not like him to do that, but he never ceases to amaze me."

  She grins so big that her nose crinkles into dozens of wrinkles. "Well, he amazes me all the time, too. You're lucky to have him for a friend. He's been worried about you, and so have I. You don't have to do this, you know."

  I pull some onions and tomatoes out of the fridge. "You slice, and I'll get the marinade mixed up."

  "Brooks," she says sternly, "I hope you don't think we're not going to talk about this. What Dad is doing to you is wrong, and everyone agrees. Who cares if he disowns you? Heck, I'll give you money."

  "It's not that simple. If I don't go through with it, I won't be the only one to suffer. He'll find a way to make you and Stephen miserable, too. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if Jacqueline set her sights on Stephen; she only wants to get her hands on our money, so she'll take whatever action is necessary in order to make that happen. It's just easier for everyone if I make the sacrifice. I can handle it."

  She places her warm hand on my arm. "But, you're not handling it very well. I haven't ever seen you look so stressed and exhausted. You may be able to fool some people, but you can't fool me. And I know how you feel about marriage. You have always preached that, if you ever get married, it will be forever. I am positive that Jacqueline isn't a forever kind of girl."

  "No, you're right about that, nor do I want her to be. Maybe I'll find someone worth spending the rest of my life with after this is all over. But, until then, this is my life."

  Ashton begins peeling away the outside layers of an onion. "Well, Brooks, you've always looked out for us, so I guess I shouldn't be too shocked about what you're doing now. Our parents have always been . . . less than nurturing, but you've always tried to fill that void. You're a sweet, caring person, so I know that, someday, you'll find someone that will show you that same kind of love. You deserve nothing less than that."

  I drop some garlic cloves onto the counter and wrap my arms around her. "That means a lot to me, Ash, and I know that you'll help me keep my sanity through all of this mess."

  "If you ever need me, I'll be on the first flight," she manages to choke out after a sniffle.

  I pull back from her and see her eyes filled with tears. "If anybody needs to cry, it's me," I joke.

  "Oh, hush," she says, wiping her eyes. "You're the one that made me deal with the onions."

  "I would believe that if you had actually started cutting into them." I chuckle and give her one last squeeze. "Love you, Sis." Still fighting back the tears, she only nods and pats me on the back. "Hey, where's Will?" I ask.

  She straightens herself and wipes away the moist streaks traveling down her cheeks. "He's napping on the couch in the den. Why?"

  "I invited a friend to our little party, and I told her that I would have him pick her up at six."

  "Her?" she asks, reaching into the drawer for a different knife.

  "Yes, her. She lives just up the road. Remember that old white house with the blue shutters?"

  "Oh, the one that always had a gazillion flowers? That old lady would let me pick some whenever I rode my bike down that way."

  I nod. "That's the one. That 'old lady' is her grandmother."

  "What's the girl's name?"

  "Laura Carey," I tell her, attempting to hide the obvious enjoyment I get from saying her name. "We've actually become fairly close friends. You'll like her."

  Ashton's inquisitive eyes narrow to slits. "Call me crazy, but I think someone else likes her, too."

  I rapidly shake my head. "She's my friend, so don't try to read too much into it. She knows all about Jacqueline and our engagement, and she's been dealing with some rough circumstances, too. I think we've both needed someone to talk to."

  "So, why is Will picking your friend up? Why don't you go get her?" Ashton viciously slices through the last of the onion, obviously anxious.

  "Well, he's single . . . she's single. Do the math. I think they'll hit it off."

  "Oh," she says a bit too eagerly, "I bet you're right. If she has your stamp of approval, I know she's perfect."

  As I pour the dark marinade over the steaks, I witness a brutal tomato attack across the counter from me. Ashton is slinging sticky juice and seeds everywhere and has yet to produce one full slice. "A little jealous, perhaps?"

  Ashton's nervous laughter echoes throughout the kitchen. "Me?" she awkwardly shrieks. "I like Will a lot, but he is your best friend. I could never . . ."

  "I tell you what . . . be honest with me about Will, and I'll share some truths of my own."

  She stops slaughtering the tomato and sighs loudly. "Am I that obvious?"

  "Just a tad. Does Will know?"

  She shrugs. "I don't think so. I certainly haven't told him. But, a while back, he told me that his sister was dating his old roommate, and he hated it. He told me that he didn't think it was right because, if they split up, he'll be expected to choose sides. He actually told me that he would never date a friend's sister. So, I guess I've accepted the fact that it won't ever happen. Are you mad at me?"

  "Not even the slightest bit. Will is one of the few guys that I would be okay with you dating, but I guess if he is that adamant about not dating a friend's sister, then we don't have anything to worry about."

  Her cheeks glow a vibrant shade of red. "I can't believe I admitted that to you."

  "Well, let me make you feel better," I offer, seating myself on a stool. "I . . . I am in love with Laura."

  "What? You? In love?"

  "You heard me. I can't believe I said that out loud. I haven't even admitted that to myself."

  The gossip fiend inside of Ashton comes out, and she swoops around the counter to sit next to me. "Does Will know that?" she whispers.

  "Well, don't you dare tell him. He knows that I like her, but I've also reassured him that I am totally fine with him dating her. To be honest, I'm not at all okay with it, but it's not like I can be with her."

  "I knew you liked her," she exclaimed, triumphantly pounding her fist on the polished granite. "I could tell by the look on your face when you talked about her. Your face lit up, and, let me tell you, it rarely does that, especially lately." She scoots in closer to me. "Does she know that you're in love with her?"

  "If she doesn't, she's completely oblivious, but I haven't exactly told her that I love her. Hell, until just now, I hadn't even told myself. Throughout this week, I have been brutally honest with her about my situation, and that, if I wasn't engaged, things between us would be different."

  "What do you mean by 'this week' exactly? How long have you known her? This is only your second week here." She seems ecstatic that the focus of the conversation is now on me, instead of her attraction to Will.

  She's going to flip when she hears this. "This is the fourth day."

  "Four days! You can't be serious. You didn't sleep with her, did you?"

  "No," I moan. Why does everyone think that I have to sleep with her in order to like her? "Absolutely nothing has happened. Though, I did almost kiss her yesterday."

  "Wow. It's even worse than I thought, then. You haven't even had any kind of physical relationship with her, and you already love her. What are you going to do?"

  I throw my hands up in the air. "Nothing. There isn't anything that I can do about it."

  Ashton jumps up, fills two tall glasses with fresh lemonade, and slides a glass over to me. She raises her glass to me and waits for me to do the same. "To wanting what we can't have," she says as she clinks her glass against mine.

  "And to having what we don't want," I interject before we drink.

  "What are we wanting and not wanting?" Will sleepily groans as he walks into the room stretching his arms up high over his head.
>
  "For starters," I say, "I want you to get ready and go pick Laura up for me. I don't want you to be late. I told her that I would send you over at six, so you have forty-five minutes to shower and get dressed."

  Will shoots me a puzzled look. "Why isn't she driving herself?"

  "Just pick the girl up!" Ashton playfully scolds, smacking the unsuspecting Will on the back of the head. "He's trying to, at least, make you look like a gentleman."

  "Yes, ma'am, Miss Bossy." He stands to attention and salutes before marching animatedly out of the kitchen. Ashton smiles at him and rolls her eyes.

  After Will leaves to pick up Laura, I step out onto the deck to put the meat on the grill, and Ashton cranks up the radio, filling the yard with echoes of bluesy rock. When I was a kid, my family had weekly cookouts, and at times, there would be at least fifty people in attendance. The yard was filled with laughter, music, and dancing, and all of the kids would run around and play in the ocean. Those were some of the best memories of my life—of course, that was before greed completely sucked the life out of my parents.

  "Ashton," Jacqueline sneers once she strides over the door's threshold. "I had no idea you would be here."

  "Hello, Jacqueline," she says with equal disgust. "And I was hoping that you wouldn't be."

  "Well, then, I guess we're both out of luck," she says, storming back into the house.

  Ashton walks over to stand at my side. "Sorry, Brooks. I couldn't help it."

  "Hey, I don't mind at all. She doesn't like you, Will, or Laura, so maybe she won't show her face too much tonight."

  "They're here," she whispers, nodding toward the garage. "I heard your truck". She giggles as I immediately straighten my shirt, run my fingers through my hair, and wipe my fingers off on a towel. "You look fine. Geez, she really does get to you, doesn't she?"

  Before I can reply, I hear the door open, and Will allows Laura to exit the house in front of him. I just saw her two hours ago, but I feel like it has been days. And she looks amazing. Her shimmering hair drapes over her shoulder in soft waves, and she dons a simple turquoise sundress with shiny black beads attached in a random order around the collar. Strappy black sandals allow her cherry-red toenails to peep through at the ends, and the only adornments she wears are a pair of small diamond studs in her ears and her silver locket around her neck.

 

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