Sparks Fly (Davis Brothers Book 1)

by Nicole Douglas

“Well that day I did.”

  She grabs my hand and looks down at the scar in inspection. “This cut is too deep for that. It goes all the way through your hand.” She turns my hand over and runs her thumb across that side of my palm for the proof. “It stabbed right through. How could you do that cutting vegetables?”

  Why the hell did she have to be so observant? She was going to piece my life together in no time. I didn’t want to see what happened when she did. Annoyed with the interrogation, I snatch my hand from her and sit up on the edge of the bed to put distance between us.

  “If you don’t want to tell me something that’s fine. But don’t lie to me again Max. Just don’t.”

  And to my relief she drops the subject entirely.

  Chapter 15

  Lacey

  The car flies down the street thanks to Max’s lead foot. I enjoy the breeze with the window cracked and watch flashes of green as we zip past trees and thick brush. We’re heading back to my apartment from campus. Finals have been brutal and we’re both fairly quiet during the drive, each reflecting on our last exams for the semester.

  I feel confident with all four of my exams as far as passing goes. A’s? Well…That might not be feasible this semester. Not with all the hours Max and I have spent together doing everything but studying.

  The car slows considerably when we pull onto the street connecting my apartment complex and David’s. The long, lonely street looks a lot different in the light of day. Much less threatening. It seems shorter too but that could be because we’re in the car, not slowly trudging along in the cold night air with a heart full of fear and turmoil.

  “This is where we met.”

  “Yeah. That wasn’t a good night for me.”

  Max pulls to the side of the road and slows to a stop in the exact spot he left his car behind to follow me into the night just a couple months ago. My unlikely hero. I hadn’t brought up the shitty experience I had since it happened.

  My response gave him an opening to ask more if he wants to. That’s exactly what he does.

  “You want to talk about it?” He asks cautiously, his hands flexing on the steering wheel. The leather creaks under his clenching grip.

  I take my time before answering, watching a car pass by. Birds flap their wings and take flight from the treetops.

  “Is it weird that I wouldn’t take back what happened?”

  He lets go of the steering wheel and shifts closer to me but otherwise doesn’t respond to my question.

  “I mean…I didn’t like it. I didn’t want it to happen. I want you to know that I didn’t lie about that…about what he did. But if I hadn’t left that night the way I did I wouldn’t have met you…and I guess I just feel like it was worth it. What happened was worth it if it means it led me to you.”

  I’m rambling.

  Jesus.

  Rambling and spilling things from my heart that I should probably keep locked up tight. Max told me so himself. Told me he didn’t want to be with me. I doubt he wanted to hear this shit.

  My eyes fill with tears, a mixture of emotional trauma from thinking about the worst events of that night and embarrassment for my word vomit. Once I started talking about it I just couldn’t seem to stop.

  He doesn’t answer me with words. Rather, he reaches across the confines of the car and cups my cheek gently. His thumb wipes away my single tear, effectively erasing the evidence of my hurt.

  His answer to my declaration of feelings is to kiss me. It’s done in such a way that supersedes any words he could have uttered back to me.

  His lips tell me he feels the same as I do. That our souls are on the same page in this unknown story we started. That he may not like the circumstances that pushed us together any more than I do but he’s grateful that it set us on the same path.

  I had never believed in fate. Never thought much about the concept. As Max’s lips danced with mine, showing me the feelings within him that he wasn’t ready to voice, maybe even wasn’t ready to admit to himself, I rethought my belief.

  Maybe Max and I had been fated to meet and every event that happened to me before that moment just sent me on a trajectory that led me to this very moment.

  It was a pretty damn good moment to be in.

  ✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

  Later that night, three episodes into The Walking Dead, Max turns to me. “Go get dressed.”

  “What?” I look down at what I’m wearing, wondering what’s wrong with it. I wore it to my exams today and no one seemed to give me any odd looks.

  “Get dressed up. Let’s go out.”

  Out? We never went out. To the grocery store or the coffee shop maybe but not anywhere that could be confused as a date.

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  Getting dressed up and heading out on the town sounded like a recipe for confusion, excessive alcohol and heightened emotions.

  He smacks my ass as I hop off the couch and head to my room to change my outfit and put on more make-up. Since I’m not sure where we’re going exactly, I decide on black fitted jeans and a nice top with a sexy open back, giving a hint of skin without it being too much.

  Next up is my make-up. I open the top drawer in my bathroom and pull out bottles and brushes. Starting with foundation, I add a dab of tan liquid to each of my cheeks and a spot to my forehead. I blend in the creamy formula using my sponge and top it off with powder.

  I sift through tubes of lipsticks and decide on hot pink matte. I swipe it over my lips and wipe at the edges to make sure I don’t look like a clown. I prefer thin eyeliner and have to work carefully with the liquid liner brush to make sure I don’t get one side thicker than the other.

  Again, I don’t want to look like a clown.

  Satisfied with my reflection I go back out to the living room to meet Max. He has since changed shirts to a solid black t-shirt from the small collection of things he had left at my apartment. He stayed in the same worn jeans.

  He looked amazing and all he did was put on a clean t-shirt. It wasn’t fair how easy it was for him to look like a model from a cologne ad or some Greek sculpture from a museum.

  “You look…Wow. You’re beautiful.” He seems at a loss for words, staring at me in awe. Maybe I should dress nice a little more often. Do something with my hair and put some effort into my appearance. The boy is about to go into shock that I put on a decent shirt and some lipstick. “You’re always beautiful. But…wow.”

  “Thank you.”

  I feel a blush creeping into my cheeks. I seriously needed to wear less leggings and t-shirts from this point on. The boy was deprived of feminine wiles around this place. I had become one of the guys, watching our shows and shoving calorie packed snacks in my mouth like a cave woman.

  He shakes off the trance of enchantment he was lost in and urges me down to his car with his hand placed on the small of my back. We don’t break contact during the drive, constantly touching in some way. Holding hands. Me stroking his forearm as we listen to the radio. Stealing kisses at red lights. And when we get out of the car in the parking lot at Blue’s Karaoke Bar his hand goes right back to the small of my back.

  We bypass the line and he nods at the doorman in greeting on the way inside.

  “I know the owner. I called ahead to let him know we were coming.” He explains, opening the door to a crowded bar with a stage along the back wall.

  Two drunk girls are belting out a Spice Girls song off key as the crowd disinterestedly orders drinks and chats at the bar. When the song ends, a few rowdy patrons at the front of the stage clap and whistle. No doubt friends of the girls. Giggling, they return to their seats and order another round of drinks.

  I’m in my own personal heaven.

  “I want to sing.”

  “I figured you would.” He smiles. “That’s why I wanted to bring you here. I’ve missed hearing that beautiful voice of yours.”

  He finds us a table and orders a bud light for each of us t
o get started. Halfway through my beer and the next song I decide it’s time to join the fun. I chug the rest of my beer and head to the bar where the signup sheet is located. Flipping through the song list I find the perfect one, beautiful lyrics and vocally challenging, and jot down my name.

  There’s two people ahead of me on the karaoke list so I order us each another beer at the bar and bring them back to the table, grateful they don’t ask for an ID. I don’t have a fake and my real one would probably get me kicked out on my ass assuming this was a twenty-one and up bar.

  Max gratefully takes his and lifts the bottle to his lips. I watch his throat work down the beer with fascination, feeling a slight buzz. Just enough to feel light and cheerful.

  Brave and happy.

  We watch the next two karaoke acts as we finish our beers. Max chose a front row table which I loved because I was able to watch each singer up close and personal. No one else seemed as enraptured by the mediocre show as I was. But that was okay.

  “Next up is Lacey Griffin singing Halo by Beyonce.”

  A couple people gasp as I head up to the stage. Beyonce is a bold artist to choose for karaoke. It’s hard to do her music justice especially after having a few drinks. Or more. But this is one of my favorite songs to sing and even though I’ve had a couple beers I’m ready.

  I watch Max as I sing through the entire ballad, his eyes fixed on me even as he nurses his third beer. The song seems to lull him and he nods his head slowly to the smooth beat as I hit a high note. He’s intently focused on me through the whole song.

  His smile eggs me on.

  I’m too focused on Max, the two of us lost in this moment together as if we’re the only people in the bar, to notice the attention I’ve drawn. Other people in the bar that were previously ignoring the karaoke stage have flocked closer, drawn from their conversations to listen to the lyrics flowing from my vocal chords with ease.

  Smooth as the whiskey they’re drinking.

  I hit the last note and let the word fade in the cheap microphone. Applause erupts around the stage to my surprise. I’m jolted from Max to look around at the small crowd that’s formed in front of me.

  I sang for fun tonight and hadn’t expected to get much feedback but a handful of people stood around the stage clapping and whistling. I burst into relieved laughter that they enjoyed the song so much.

  My gaze inevitably gravitates back to Max. He winks at me as he claps right along with the rest of the crowd. Suddenly needing to kiss him I work my way through the packed bar back to our table at the edge of the stage. It’s tucked away in a perfect little corner that gave a great view of the mic but not right in the middle of traffic.

  Max grabs me around the waist, smiling wide, and kisses me with enthusiasm in front of everyone. The act of affection combined with the alcohol in my blood goes to my head and I kiss him back without a care in the world.

  As the night progresses we go through several more rounds of beer and whiskey. More songs. More visits to the stage and kisses afterward.

  Even Max ends up singing after one too many shots of fireball. Watching him try to dance to Barbie Girl has me crying from laughter. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard my stomach hurt and tears flowed.

  I felt wild and free hopping on and off the stage.

  On our way out to the car after closing time I see the sign posted on the door that they’re hiring a waitress and a seed is planted in my tipsy mind.

  Chapter 16

  Max

  The scent of bacon and eggs hits me when I open the door to my apartment. Lacey was fast asleep when I left a couple hours ago for my morning jog.

  After working up a sweat with her last night and again this morning on my two mile run, I was starving. My stomach rumbled, urging me to make a plate before it ate itself from the inside out.

  I kick my Nike’s off at the door and what I see when I turn around freezes my insides with a sickening coil.

  Chris.

  My brother is sprawled across my couch with his feet propped on the arm comfortably. His fucking shoes are caked in mud and dirt. Probably from being tasked out to dig up holes in the woods for our dad. It was something the old man forced us to do as punishment when we didn’t meet his expectations.

  Quite a few holes were dug by me after announcing I would be going to college whether he liked it or not. Part of me had feared I was going to end up in one of them if I didn’t tread carefully with my rebellious breakaway.

  Wouldn’t that be ironic? To end up buried in the hole you dug.

  I wonder what Chris had done to be tasked out with the worst job imaginable.

  Plates clank around in the kitchen as Lacey sets three onto the counter and generously spoons scrambled eggs on each plate. She’s in nothing but the tank she always sleeps in and shorts that leave little to the imagination. Chris’s eyes are fixated on her shapely ass as she cooks, oblivious to his gaze.

  When he notices me standing in the doorway, momentarily stunned, he lifts his brows suggestively. Then he turns his focus back to her as if my presence is irrelevant. It’s like he can’t keep his eyes off her ass.

  That pisses me off and propels me to finally snap out of the shock.

  “Do you like butter on your toast, Chris?” Lacey asks sweetly from the kitchen. She’s distracted with the toaster and still hasn’t noticed me standing there. She smiles over at my brother, patiently waiting for him to tell her his toast preference so she can finish making breakfast.

  “Yes, please.” He responds politely.

  The asshole has never been polite in his life. I would know. In fact I wouldn’t have even thought he was capable of it if I wasn’t witnessing it with my own eyes.

  It’s as if I’m in some sort of alternate dimension where my brother is a decent human being and Lacey is my girlfriend, pleasantly cooking for the three of us so we can have a family meal on this beautiful Saturday morning.

  Definitely an alternate universe.

  “What’s going on here?” My voice sounds annoyed and I have to hide an inner wince.

  I really didn’t mean to sound so whiney and jealous but there it was.

  Chris smirks up at me knowingly. I want to smack the shit out of him all of a sudden. Of course my brother would catch my irritation and jealousy and enjoy it. Hell, he looks like he’s planning to play with it. Make it worse to the best of his ability just to watch me squirm.

  “I’m making breakfast. Your brother stopped by.” She points out the obvious as if I’m stupid.

  And I feel stupid too because in all the time I’ve spent with her I never imagined my two worlds colliding.

  Lacey and my family were never supposed to meet. Those two completely separate parts of my life were never supposed to overlap one another. Now the train wreck of meet-the-fucked-up-family had started before I even got home.

  Knowing the kind of guy he is, it made me sick to my stomach for his gaze to even drift in her direction. It’s the same kind of guy I am though. I needed to remember that. Chris and I had done all the same things up until two years ago when I decided to change my life and he decided to screw his up more than ever.

  I rarely got summoned by dad these days except for cash pick-ups or simple jobs any moron could pull off. He knew I wasn’t good for much else.

  Chris seemed to seek out ways he could become more heavily involved in that world, trying to make dad proud. He obviously still hadn’t learned what a fruitless task that was. It was nothing but a pipe dream. Dad never was proud of shit. If by some miracle he was, it was for something anyone with a moral compass would be ashamed of.

  I wasn’t sure how long I thought I could spend all my free time with Lacey without my brother weaseling his way in. I guess I never expected to be with her this long. Whatever this was between us was never supposed to last. Be that as it may, I had no intentions of ending it anytime soon.

  I couldn’t.

  Coming home to find her cooking dinner for us or wrapped up in
my blankets on the couch with the remote in hand was the best part of my day. Hands down. On the late nights I had to work for dad I would quietly come home to find her sleeping in my bed, peacefully spread out on top of my sheets with her hair fanned over both our pillows. The light strands were a sharp contrast to the black sheets and pillow cases.

  Make-up and body spray bottles littered my bathroom counter. Special body wash blends filled my shower and cluttered the rack under the faucet. She had slowly made herself at home here and to my immense surprise I loved every second of it.

  When I left the apartment this morning all had been right in my world. Now anxiety and tension stiffens me. It’s as if there are metal rods in my bones holding me rigid. My posture feels unnatural as I try to communicate with my brother telepathically, hoping he gets the message to get the fuck out of my apartment.

  Now.

  Maybe then I can convince Lacey the shit-show of meeting him has all been just a dream. Or a nightmare. Take your pick.

  “What? I can’t stop by to see my baby brother?” Chris smirks in sheer amusement. He’s clearly not getting my silent messages. I guess we weren’t the kind of brothers anymore that could communicate without words. Or fists.

  Lacey stays busy in the kitchen, rummaging in the cabinet for coffee cups. She pulls chocolate flavored creamer from the back of the fridge and smiles in victory.

  The coffee pot sitting on my counter came from her house. When she started spending more time at my place she brought it over with her. She knew I wasn’t a coffee drinker and if she was going to spend the night here she insisted she needed her morning caffeine fix.

  The sound of coffee being poured into two mugs from the kitchen aggravates me a step further. So Chris was just going to show up here and have breakfast and coffee with my girl while I wasn’t even here?

  My girl.

  I haven’t thought of her in that way yet but the term felt very much fitting.

  Possessiveness rushes over me unexpectedly. No one had tried to flirt with her around me since we started this thing together so I didn’t know how I would react. Lacey wasn’t much of a partier and neither was I. The karaoke bar last week had been a special occasion centered on the music and being wrapped up in each other’s energy.