Welcome to Pembrooke: The Complete Pembrooke Series

by Jessica Prince

  “Watch it, kiddo. I’d hate for you to ‘accidentally’ take a tumble over the side there,” I say in mock warning, causing her to grin at me. “And what the hell are you doing out here by yourself anyway?” I finally asked, that big brother instinct I had when it came to Eliza in full effect. I loved my sister and her daughter Lucy with all the breath in my body, but the protectiveness I felt for my best friend was unlike anything I’d experienced with anyone else. She might as well have been raised as my sister with the way I hovered over her the past few years, keeping dipshit boys away and making sure she was safe whenever her father wasn’t around to do it. “It’s almost dark, Eliza. It’s not safe. You know your dad would lose his fucking mind if he knew you were wandering the woods by yourself at sunset.”

  She rolled her eyes before laying on her back and staring up at the darkening sky. “Would you relax, Over Protective? He knows where I am. I told him I figured you were out here, and he knows you’re just as likely to shoot someone in my defense as he is.”

  “Damn straight,” I grumbled, making her laugh.

  “I’m pretty sure if he could pay you for your bodyguard services, he would.”

  I looked over at her and smiled my first genuine smile in what felt like days. “Wouldn’t need to. I’m all too happy to go big brother on anyone’s ass who needs it.”

  “So,” she leaned over to bump my shoulder with hers, “you going to tell me what’s got you sitting out in the middle of nowhere all introspective when you should be enjoying your Spring Break, college boy?”

  “Introspective,” I repeated with a laugh. “Someone’s been hitting her SAT books.”

  “Well not all of us can get into college on a football scholarship. It’s academics or bust for me. And stop trying to change the subject. It’s not going to work. You know better.”

  I let out a defeated sigh knowing there was no way she was going to give in. “It’s nothing. I’m just in a funk, I guess.” The look on her face told me she knew I was full of shit, so I sighed again and finally relented. “It’s just getting harder and harder to come back every time,” I admitted.

  “What? Why? This is your home, everyone you love is here.”

  I had to turn away from the frown marring her face. There was no way to say what I was feeling without offending her. She would take it personally, even though I didn’t mean it that way.

  “I don’t know. This place just doesn’t really feel like home anymore. Hasn’t for a while if I’m being honest. Harlow has Noah, and they’ve got their own little family. You know I’ve felt out of place since my Gram died,” I said, bringing up a painful point I’d talked with her about more than once over the years. “I’ve felt like an outsider for a really long time. And now that I’m away at college, it’s just becoming more and more obvious.”

  Sure enough, Eliza’s face looked like I just smacked her. It only added to the guilt already resting on my shoulders for feeling the way I did. “But… they’re your family. We’re your family. You know that. Maybe if you talked to Harlow and Noah—”

  “And say what?” I interrupted with a sarcastic bark of laughter before taking on a mocking tone. “‘Hey guys, I know you’re all in love and shit, but when I look at you, it makes me realize that I’m the third-fucking-wheel in our family, so can you maybe tone down on the happiness for a while so I don’t feel so out of place’? Come on, Eliza. Be realistic. I’m selfish enough even feeling this way. Saying it out loud just makes it a thousand times worse.”

  “It’s not selfish,” she insisted, her voice trembling with vehemence. “You lost your parents before you were even old enough to really remember them, then your older sister just took off on you for years. The one stable person you had for any extended period of time died, and when Harlow finally came back, she automatically jumped into a relationship with Noah and they had a baby. It’s not selfish to feel like an outsider. I don’t blame you. I just think that if you talked to them—”

  I cut her off again, even though everything she’d just said was spot-fucking-on. “I’m not going to do that, Eliza. Just stop pushing it, okay?”

  We both remained quiet as the sun finally finished its descent, leaving us with nothing but millions of tiny little stars as the only light to see by. I wanted to tell her that she was the only person who made me feel like I belonged, that even though Harlow was my sister by blood, the bond I had with Eliza was stronger. I wanted to tell her how I dreamed of leaving and never coming back, of starting a life for myself somewhere else, and that she’s the only person in this town I’d be willing to stick around for, that she was the best friend I’ve ever had or probably ever would have.

  But I didn’t. I didn’t say any of that.

  Instead, I said, “It’s late. We should go.”

  I didn’t need to see the disappointment on her face to know it was there… or to feel the full impact of it in the pit of my stomach.

  I had just let down one of the most important people in my life, and that killed worse than anything else.

  7

  Ethan

  I don’t know how long I stood staring at the basket lying on the ground where Eliza had abandoned it, but it was long enough for my knee to start protesting the slight weight I put on it after dropping my crutches in order to hug her.

  “Shit,” I muttered to myself, leaning down to grab my discarded crutches. I put them under my arms and began to turn when something near my foot caught my eye. Reaching back over, I scooped up the contents Eliza had dropped to the floor and threw them back in the basket. Two packages of mega stuffed Oreo’s and a box of some churro things that looked pretty damned good if I did say so myself.

  When I found her, she’d been scoping out chips and dip. It might have been years since I had seen or talked to her, but I still knew her well enough to know the girl — well, woman now — was a massive junk food junkie. And because of me, she’d stormed out without her fix.

  I lifted the basket the best I could while trying to balance it and my crutches at the same time as I scanned the shelves in front of me. A plan was taking form in my brain as I spotted a jar of salsa I’d seen Eliza eat a ton of times growing up. I put it in the basket with the rest of the junk food, along with a bag of tortilla chips, and headed for the register.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Mabel said as I lifted the basket onto the counter and began unloading it. “If it isn’t our very own football star. It’s been a long time, Ethan. How have you been?”

  The ‘football star’ thing grated on my nerves. Especially now that I was out for the whole fucking season. Tipping the brim of my ball cap up in order to see her clearly, I offered a small smile that didn’t come close to reaching my eyes. “I’m good, Ms. Mabel. How about you?”

  Her eyes trailed over what she could see of my frame from behind the counter as she scanned my purchases. “Better now.” The creepy grin the plump old woman gave me probably would have made lesser men run in fear. I couldn’t lie, I’d always been leery around Mabel, mindful to never stand too close or run the risk of getting certain parts of my body fondled. The woman had a knack for sneaking up on a poor, unsuspecting guy and grabbing his junk before he knew what the hell was happening. I’d been on the receiving end of such treatments more than once.

  “Mmm mmm,” she hummed appreciatively. However, I’d grown used to her over the years, so the hairs on the back of my neck no longer stood on end. “You sure did grow up fine, didn’t you, honey?”

  “And you’re just as beautiful as ever,” I replied, giving her a wink.

  Her wrinkled cheeks grew a deep shade of red as she waved me off and giggled like a teenager. “Oh, you. So shameless.”

  “That’s me.” I watched as her fingers as she hit a few buttons on the register, lost in thought until she spoke.

  “So… you getting this for Eliza Anderson?” My head gave a startled jerk up to find her staring back at me with a knowing smile stretched across her face. She didn’t bother waiting for me to
respond before continuing. “I saw that pretty little Eliza take off like a bat outta hell, looking all kinds of mad. You two used to be close friends, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” I answered at a near growl, feeling my brows pull down into a deep frown at the woman’s nosiness.

  “And, if my old mind is recalling correctly, you haven’t been back home in quite some time, have you?”

  “And I don’t recall you ever being one to beat around the bush,” I stated, already over the back and forth she seemed to be getting off on. “Why don’t you just go ahead and say what’s on your mind?”

  Her head fell back with a cheerful laugh before she surprised me by walking around the counter and passing me on the way a wine display set up about fifteen feet away. She came back, still smiling with humor before ringing the bottle up and recalculating my purchases. “You’re going to need that if you’re hoping to get back into her good graces any time soon, boy.” She held up the bottle and gave it a little wave before bagging it and the rest of the items in a canvas bag. “That’ll be fifty-two fifty. Normally I’d have grabbed a cheaper bottle of wine. But you’re a professional football player with two Super Bowl rings. I figured you could afford the good stuff.”

  She slid the bag toward me as I reached into my back wallet and pulled out a couple bills. Little did she know I’d been known to drop three times as much on a bottle of bourbon.

  “Keep the change,” I said, trying and failing to keep my smirk at bay. The damn woman used to be a handful on a good day, and seeing as that hadn’t changed in the past six years was a little refreshing — beneath the skin-crawling creepiness of being hit on by a senior citizen that used to get off on grabbing dicks, that is.

  Some things never changed, and Mabel would stay the same until the day she died. I wasn’t sure why, maybe it was because I was hoping it would be the same with Eliza, but that realization gave me a tiny sense of comfort.

  Slinging the handles of the canvas bag over my shoulder, I started hobbling my way toward the store’s entrance, my sole focus, getting to Eliza with a bag full of her favorite stuff that would hopefully make headway in getting her to forgive me.

  I was almost there when something hit me. I looked over my shoulder. “Uh, Mabel?”

  “Yes?”

  I gave her a sheepish smile. “You wouldn’t happen to know where she lives, would you?”

  Mabel slow blinked for several seconds before asking, “Ran off any boy within a ten-mile radius of the girl most of her teenage years, and you didn’t even bother to keep up with where she lives?”

  All I could do was shrug as her chastisement pierced right through my chest. I really had been a shitty friend to her. It wasn’t as though she could have controlled how things changed in my mind. Hell, she didn’t even have a clue. It was no wonder she took off rather than talk to me earlier. “It’s been a while,” was all I could come up with in response.

  “She lives in the apartment over the café.” She huffed with irritation before muttering to herself — loud enough for me to hear, “Lord blessed the boy with looks, but made him dumb as a box of rocks,” as she turned away.

  I took that as a sign and escaped the Corner Store relatively unscathed after a run-in with the owner. The rubber bottoms of my crutches thumped softly on the wooden walkway as I passed storefront after storefront. The trek took longer than usual, thanks to my bum knee, but it gave me the time to think up a plan to get myself back into Eliza’s good graces. And after that first brief glimpse of her on the sidewalk earlier, I knew I had to get back there. Just one look and I felt the loss of her like a physical thing crushing down on me.

  I missed her like crazy.

  And God, did she look good. From our exchange in the store, I knew that the teenage girl I knew before I left was long gone. I never doubted she’d grow up to be beautiful, she was beautiful as a girl, but I was stunned at the change six years could bring.

  It was like looking at a stranger. And thinking about it, I realized she was a stranger. The familiarity in those beautiful hazel eyes of hers was absent when I’d looked into them. I had a feeling that earning her trust back was going to take a hell of a lot more than a simple “I’m sorr’.”

  With that realization, I decided it was best if I just left the bag of groceries on her doorstep with a note. Maybe that would thaw her out enough to allow me a chance to apologize face to face.

  Rounding the building that housed the expanded Sinful Sweets and a dance studio that hadn’t been there when I’d left Pembrooke, I found the back stairs that led to the landing of the upstairs apartment. That was when I realized I hadn’t really thought this out. Because getting up those steps was going to be a bitch and a half.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled to myself as I tried to figure out the best way to maneuver the stairs. I finally decided it would be best to only use one crutch. It took longer than it should to get to the top, and by the time I made it, my knee ached and I’d tripped on at least two of the steps, nearly losing the bag of groceries along the way. I released a relieved sigh once I finally made it to the top, followed quickly by a “Goddamn it,” when I realized I didn’t have a pen or piece of paper to leave a note. I quickly spun around to look for anything I could use, and immediately sent the leg of my crutch crashing into one of the planters that sat on the minuscule landing. I winced and froze as the loud sound of the terracotta pot breaking echoed through the otherwise silent night.

  I was just about to bolt — knee be damned — when the porch light flipped on and the front door swung open.

  “Ethan? What the hell are you doing?”

  My mouth opened to answer, but the words died in my throat at the sight of Eliza standing in the open doorway wearing nothing but silky blue pajamas. The spaghetti strap top did nothing to conceal her boobs — which were obviously much bigger than I remembered them being — and the shorts were barely long enough to cover her ass.

  Her hair was wet, hanging down around her shoulders, causing the sorry excuse for a shirt to turn damn near transparent. The most disturbing thing about the sight of Eliza, all grown up and looking gorgeous, was that I actually felt my cock begin to stir behind the zipper of my jeans. My feeling for her were definitely changing by the time I left, but standing there just then, I experienced something completely different, the desire so strong, so carnal, it was almost impossible to keep it in check.

  It was as if all the blood in my body rushed to that particular region, leaving my brain deprived. That was the only excuse I had for the words that came out of my mouth next.

  “That’s what you wear to answer the door?!” I yelled. “You’re practically naked!”

  The confusion that had been on her beautiful face just seconds ago instantly morphed into anger. She crossed her arms over her full, luscious — Christ, Ethan! Get your shit together! — breasts and scowled so hard I thought she was trying to set me on fire with her mind.

  “I’m not naked, you asshole,” she bit back. “And the only reason I opened the door like this was because I thought you were someone trying to break in!”

  I was pretty sure my brain exploded with that statement. Every single protective instinct I ever had when it came to her reared back up to the surface. “You thought I was an intruder so you opened the door?! What the fuck, Eliza! Your dad’s the Sheriff, for Christ’s sake, you know better! I have half a mind to call Derrick and let him know you’re just asking to be raped and murdered.”

  “Don’t you dare! You have no right, Ethan. You’re not my brother. You’re not even my friend! You can’t just blow back into town after six years and act like nothing’s changed!”

  “When it comes to your wellbeing, I’ll do whatever the fuck I have to, to make sure you’re safe!”

  “Stop yelling at me!” she shouted back before sucking in a deep breath and taking a step back, running her hands through her damp hair in obvious frustration. It made her tits stick out further and strain against her top. It took all the willpower I had t
o pull my eyes from the amazing view. I was pretty sure there was a special place in Hell just for me.

  Fortunately, her momentary silence gave me the opportunity I needed to pull my mind out of the gutter and screw my head on straight. I was there to try and win my best friend back. I wasn’t going to be able to do that my yelling at her and staring at her tits like they were the first pair I’d ever seen.

  I sighed running a hand over my face. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

  Her glare remained firmly in place as she ignored my apology and demanded to know, “What are you even doing here?”

  Balancing on the one crutch, I leaned down, grabbed the grocery bag and held it out to her. “You dropped this stuff on the way out. I know what a junk food fiend you are, so I figured you’d want it.”

  Hesitantly taking the bag from my hands, she pulled the handles open and peeked inside. Her brows lowered, but this time, in confusion, not anger. Or at least that was what I hoped. She turned those amazing hazel eyes back to me. “You bought this?”

  I shrugged and gave her a small smile in response. Eliza reached into the bag and pulled out the jar of salsa that I’d picked on my own. “I remembered that used to be your favorite. I wasn’t sure…” I trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence and draw even more attention to the fact that I didn’t know her the way I used to.

  “It still is,” she whispered, her eyes trained on the jar before she dropped it back inside and looked up. “And the wine?”