Copyright © 2013 Ryan Ringbloom
All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without the prior written permission of the author, with the exception of short quotes for purposes of review.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover Design Image Copyright aliisik, 2013
Used under license from Shutterstock.com
Edited by Ebook Editing Pro
ISBN: 9781483505268
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to my writing partner, Mia and my friend, LoriMarie, for all of your encouragement and support. I couldn’t have done it without you. A huge thank you to my favorite brother, you know who you are, don’t tell the other two. Thanks to Julie, for a great critique. And to the readers, thank you for giving me the opportunity to share my story with you.
Part One
CHAPTER ONE
Ashley
I need a new boyfriend.
Desperately.
My last boyfriend broke up with me over a week ago. Well, not so much broke up. He just never bothered picking me up for our date.
No call, no text, no nothing.
I didn’t even like the guy which means I’m not hurt or anything, just embarrassed. Getting over it quick and moving on. That’s what I’m doing. It’s what I always do.
I’d like to believe the obnoxious honking in my driveway is not Josh’s way of letting me know he’s here for our date. But I know better. Okay, so I find nothing appealing about Josh, my potential new boyfriend, but I’m sure if I look hard enough I’ll eventually find something.
“Hey.” I slide carefully into the front seat, tugging down on the short skirt as best I can before pulling the seatbelt over my lap. “What movie are we going to see?”
One of Josh’s hands leaves the steering wheel inching the skirt I just fixed back up. Five seconds into our first date and he already feels comfortable enough to reach over and massage my upper thigh. My fault. I chose to wear a skirt this short.
“I don’t know,” he says. “They all looked lame. You wanna do something else instead? Maybe get coffee or something?” Hand still on my thigh he reverses out of the driveway.
The familiar pangs start in the pit of my stomach as we fly down the street. Here we go again, a frown on my face and a pit in my gut. This is how most of my dates start off. I know there’s a ton of good movies out right now, but I guess we can do whatever he wants. I never feel I have much of a choice in these things anyway.
“I’m fine with anything.”
Josh swerves, losing focus on the road. The way he’s eyeing me up and down is unnerving. “I hoped you would say that.”
I gulp down the feeling of dread as he presses his foot down on the gas and speeds off to a destination it’s obvious he already has in mind.
Parking his new black Mustang behind an old empty building, the lights go off as he cuts the engine. It is pitch black. I wave my hand in front of my face and I can’t even see it. Wow, I don’t even get the coffee he offered. Why does he think he can just take me to a dark parking lot for a date? A better question is why am I letting him?
Oh, that’s right, I’m easy.
Pretending I’m not is pointless. I know it and so does everyone else. The “easy” label came freshman year after losing my virginity in the downstairs bathroom at a packed house party to some guy. Mike or Mark? We didn’t even kiss. He just grunted, ramming into me as I lay on the cold tile floor. It only took two, maybe three minutes for him to get off and then it was over. I remember thinking, “Was that it? Did we do it?” People were actually lined up outside the door waiting to use the bathroom. As we walked out I had to pass all those knowing faces judging me. Mortifying, but I thought, “Okay, he really likes me.” That’s what he said and of course I believed him.
I never saw the guy again. He didn’t even go to my school.
Wrong guys. For some reason I’m drawn to them. But one day, the wrong guy may eventually turn into the right guy. I remind myself that guy may be Josh.
The seatbelt unclicks and I hear him fiddling around with the levers. Hesitating, I reach over unbuckling my own. A whoosh of air hits me as Josh’s seat flies back. Two hands lurk in the dark reaching for me, pulling me away from the security of my own seat. I may not want to do this, but I certainly know the routine by now. The whole point of this is so he’ll like me.
I cozy myself into his lap lifting my shirt over my head and ease the straps of my bra down my shoulders. Taking one more unsteady breath I unhook it and toss it recklessly into his car.
“Ashley,” he murmurs my name, and I cringe. He tugs at my chest aggressively then starts giving me little pinches, like he thinks it feels good and I enjoy it. It feels painful. I think about reaching up and pinching him in the same way. But I don’t. Instead I reach in and un-tuck his shirt. My fingers linger on the top button of his jeans. Do I really want to do this? No. But if I want him as a boyfriend there is no stopping now. I tug down his zipper. He lifts his hips up lowering his jeans so I can touch him. “You like that, don’t you?” His slimy voice groans once he’s exposed. Ew, I neither like it, nor think it is anything too impressive for that matter.
The feel of Josh’s sweaty hand sliding across my bare back repulses me. I can’t help but let out a groan of disgust. Of course, Josh mistakes this as a sigh of pleasure and begins pawing at me fiercely. His touches are so rough.
A second later the car fills with light followed by the yelp of a siren.
“Shit!” Using one arm to cover my bare chest, I jump back over to the passenger seat and start feeling around the car with my other hand. Thank God. I find my shirt and I’m able to wiggle back into it before the cop comes over. Josh slides his jeans back into place and somehow manages to find my bra. I roll it up in a ball and stick it underneath my butt to hide it.
We shield our faces from the bright light of the police officer’s flashlight. Josh lowers the foggy window, moist with steam. His own. My body certainly hasn’t produced any of that heat.
“Are you okay, Miss?” The officer lowers his head and shines his flashlight over in my direction. He’s an older man, and I can see his face is concerned for me. It feels strange. No one’s ever concerned for me. Wait, is that concern or pity?
“I’m fine.” I cover my face in complete and utter embarrassment.
He asks Josh for his license and takes his time looking it over. “Okay, Joshua Brewster, the party’s over. I think it’s time you take this young lady home.”
“Okay, Officer.” Josh raises the lever on his seat bringing it back to the upright position. Why he waited to fix his seat until now, I’m not sure. Probably thought we’d just go right back to hooking up once the cop drove away.
The officer hands him back his license and he shoves it into his wallet, ready to take off. The lights flash for Josh to pull out first. We pull out of the parking lot with the police car tailing closely behind us.
Josh checks his rearview mirror. “I think he’s gonna follow me to make sure I take you home.”
“Yeah, I think you should take me home.” I swallow down the feeling of guilt and humiliation building in my throat.
“We didn’t do anything wrong.” Josh tries to assure me.
“Except get busted by a cop for hooking up in an empty parking lot.” I rub my forehead. This does not feel good. It feels bad, very - very bad.
Josh says nothing, because, seriously, there’s nothing to say. We’re both silent the rest of the way home. All I can think is wh
at a huge mistake this was. I don’t like Josh. Tonight confirms this.
Relief washes over me when we finally pull up to my enormous house. You know it’s bad when I can’t wait to be home. I hate being home. Josh leaves his foot on the brake and I open my door getting out as quickly as I can.
“Wait,” Josh stops me before I have a chance to shut the car door. “You forgot this.” He tosses me the lacy red bra I stashed when the cop came.
I catch it and fold my arms across my chest, self-consciously remembering I no longer have it on. I open my mouth to say something, but grumble instead. Nothing I can say is going to make the situation any better.
My hip slams his passenger door shut. “Hey! Watch the car,” he yells, way nastier than is called for.
It’s a Mustang not a Lamborghini, jackass.
Arms still folded, bra in hand, I make the walk of shame up to my front door. Walking up the stone stairs to my cold dark house is where I vow that my life will change. I am done. No more bad decisions. It’s time for a whole new Ashley.
The next day I get a call from Josh. His parents are out of town.
I drive right over for our second date.
Robin
“Robin’s here!” The little blonde haired boy screams down the hallway to no one and everyone before disappearing out of sight.
A few shouts of hello are yelled out from various places as I make my way through the house towards the back room. No matter how often I’m here, the familiar scent of the Daniels’ house always welcomes me. I love houses that have a scent to them. It’s proof that the house is lived in. My house doesn’t have a smell. It is completely odorless. I breathe in the happy smell of a family as I enter the room most occupied by the three boys that live there.
Kent and Patrick Daniels are sitting on the floor battling it out over some bloody, vicious video game. Kent looks up when I walk in and pauses the game. “I just need one more second,” he says to me.
“Go ahead play. You don’t have to stop because of me. I’m fine. I’ll watch,” I respond quietly. I tried slipping in unnoticed. No need to stop what they’re doing, it’s only me.
“Did you ask your dad about the concert?” Kent yells over his shoulder.
I hesitate before answering. I know he won’t like my answer. “No.”
“Why? You know you want him to go. It’s important, ask him.”
The concert is a big deal, but no, I will not be asking my father.
“My Dad asked me if it was okay if he could go back to making the long hauls cross country. Of course I told him yes. He only stopped doing it because of…” I know I don’t have to finish the sentence. Kent knows I’m talking about my mom. She died four years ago. That’s when my dad stopped going out on the road and took a new position within the trucking company. He said he needed the normal hours. Truthfully, the normal hours were not that normal, and thankfully the Daniels family had practically taken me in over the last few years.
My dad’s parenting style is…well he tries really hard.
Kent swivels around to face me. “You’re going to be home alone for days, maybe weeks at a time? Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah, I’m eighteen now. I can be home alone.” I’m scared, it’s a lot of time to be alone in a big dark house by myself, but I would never admit it.
Always being agreeable and keeping quiet; that’s my way. Life is so much simpler that way. My poor dad, my mom dies and then he’s stuck with me. Okay, stuck might be the wrong word. My dad loves me very much. I just hate being a burden. There’s no way I’m going to bother him with something as silly as a concert. No matter how bad I want him there.
“So, anyway, my dad will probably be working. It’s no big deal,” I say quickly, hoping to drop the subject.
“It is a big deal. The concert is over two months away. It’s plenty of time for him to plan to take one night off.” Kent glances back, letting me know he’s disappointed with my response.
I look down and shrug my shoulders. Shrug. That’s what I do when I don’t know what to say. I never really know what to say.
“Can you guys shut up?” Patrick asks. Our conversation is distracting him from virtual violence. Kent shakes his head and mutters something before returning his attention back to the game.
Phew, he dropped it. The soft brown couch swallows me up and I watch the two brothers pulverize each other brutally on screen. This game is new, one I haven’t seen before. Are those zombies? I want to know, but I don’t ask.
I’ve known Kent for a long time and he should feel like he’s a brother to me, but he doesn’t. My feelings started to change around the time we found out my mother’s cancer had spread and we were told she didn’t have much time left. Everyone, and I mean everyone, was so sad around me all the time. I was already sad, I didn’t need more sadness. I wasn’t even fourteen and I was about to lose my mom, everything in my life was falling apart. I didn’t know what I needed, but all the hugs, tears, prayers, food, that wasn’t it.
I was at the Daniels’ house one night while my dad was at the hospital with my mother. Kent took out his guitar. Thirteen and he was already amazing. He plucked the strings and sang a song about how awful my shirt was. It’s such a bright yellow my eyes are burning. That’s what he sang to me as my mother was in the hospital dying. And I laughed. He sang me more silly, nonsense, made up songs. I kept laughing. For the first time in months I was able to break free from the sadness. It was what I needed. He was the only one who knew what I needed. From there my feelings for him grew into a stronger friendship and then I fell in love with him.
Being in love with Kent is a great and awful feeling. Mostly awful. It’s one of those things I know will never work out.
Never.
Best friends who turn into something more is messy and always ends bad. But, while I stare at the back of Kent’s gorgeous, long, dark hair day after day, sometimes I let my thoughts wander off into steamy little fantasies. Today is one of those days.
I’m in the middle of a particularly heated daydream when a cough interrupts me.
“Hi, Robin.” Mrs. Daniels pulls a crumpled tissue from her pocket and starts to blow her nose.
“Hi.” I jump, snapping back to reality. I know I’m blushing, the dirty things I do with Kent in my mind…I should be ashamed. I don’t know how my brain comes up with half the stuff; I’ve never done anything with anyone before.
“It’s time for dinner,” she says right into the tissue. For a woman who I’ve never seen suffer from an actual cold or allergies she blows her nose more than anyone else I know. A petite woman with dyed red hair and glasses, I often wonder how someone so tiny produced such tall boys.
“Can I help you do anything?” I offer.
“Yes, you can help me drag the twins away and tell them it’s time for dinner.”
Kent and Patrick aren’t twins, but they are both seventeen. Only ten months apart. Kent is starting senior year like me, and Patrick’s starting his junior year. Then there’s Matthew, Mr. and Mrs. Daniels’ “little surprise”. He’s only six years old, the baby of the family who everyone adores, especially Patrick.
Kent stands up, pushes a button ending the game before they are technically finished playing. I guess he heard his mom and knows I’m a wimp who won’t “drag them away for dinner.”
“Why did you turn it off?” Patrick yells. “I was winning!”
“No you weren’t.” Kent sniffs out an arrogant laugh. “You had no chance at all.” He sits down next to me throwing his arm around my shoulders. “Robin who won?”
Oh God, I hate when they ask me stuff like this. As much as I am in love with Kent, Patrick is, well, that’s a different kind of love. He’s the same height as Kent, but twice the size. He’s nice and everything, but at the same time he can be intimidating. “Um, I don’t know. I think you both did good.”
“Oh please, you’re asking Robin.” Patrick throws his controller on the floor standing up ready to stomp out the room. �
��She’s never going to have an answer. Let’s just go eat.”
Kent holds his hand out and pulls me up from the deep couch. I love all the cute little things he does like grabbing my hands and putting his arm around me. Even though these things are done out of friendship he has this way of making me feel special.
I follow him to the kitchen and we sit down at the long oak table. I’m in my usual seat, right between Kent and Matthew.
“Robin I really love your new haircut, it’s so pretty,” Mrs. Daniels’ says across the dinner table while passing out paper plates.
“Thank you.” I reach up and shyly push a piece of my jet black hair behind my ear. I love my dark hair. It’s one of the only things about myself I actually feel confident about. It’s the same color as my mom’s was. Last week I went to the hairdresser and traded my long locks for a sleek, short new style. No idea what made me do it, but Kent seemed pleasantly surprised. I really enjoyed seeing the look on his face when I showed off my new hairstyle.
“It’s hair mom, get over it.” Patrick gives my hair a bored glance and rolls his eyes. He looks like a man, but he acts like a child.
Mrs. Daniels ignores him pulling out one of her crumpled tissues, speaking as she wipes her nose. We’re all so used to it, it’s her thing. “So you guys all set for school?”
No one answers.
“Robin, I know Kent’s happy, he says you guys are in a bunch of classes together.”
“Yeah, I’m excited.” I reach over for the last slice of pizza, but as soon as Patrick sees me reach for it, he swoops in and grabs it, plopping it onto his own plate. Kent may not feel like a brother to me, but Patrick certainly does.
“Patrick!” his mother hisses, reaching over like she’s going to smack his hand.
Patrick folds the slice and shoves it into his mouth. “Sorry Robin did you want this?” he says to me, his mouth full.
“Robin, I’ll go get you more.” Mr. Daniels starts to get up from the table.
“No,” I plead. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”
Fast (The Fast Series) Page 1