I Have Lived And I Have Loved: A Charity Romance Collection

by Willow Winters

  “Scout is going to die when he sees you.”

  My stomach twists, and my heart beats faster. I’ve never liked being the center of attention, and I know I’m not ready for it now.

  “I hope his response is not that extreme.” I wonder if she can hear the waver in my voice.

  She exhales a squeal and hops over to give me a hug. “You’re Cinderella. It’s going to be a night you’ll never forget.”

  Clasping my hand, she drags me to the door, but I hang back as she trots expertly down the stairs in heels. I watch as she puts her hand on Henry’s chest and kisses his cheek.

  A night I’ll never forget?

  My heels click as I slowly descend the stairs, gripping the bannister so I don’t get hooked and fall. I don’t see Scout, and anticipation rises with every step.

  Ever since he trapped me into this arrangement, he’s been carrying my books around, waiting for me after classes… basically acting like he’s my boyfriend, which is so not true.

  Mims has been cutting death glares at me every time we pass in the hall, but I ignore her. It’s not like this is real, no matter how excited my cousin is.

  It’s all pretend.

  I’m not Cinderella.

  Reciting these words in my head calms my breathing. It puts distance between me and this force pushing against my chest. It helps me focus on the future and not this very night.

  Until I reach the second to last step and Scout steps into my sight.

  He’s wearing a classic black tux, and one hand is in his pocket. His hair has been trimmed so it’s shorter in the back, longer on top, and it’s styled in a messy way. When he cuts his gaze at me from under his brow, his blue eyes flare, and all my nerves rush to the surface.

  He’s straight out of a movie or one of those posters in the Abercrombie store.

  He’s so sexy.

  Fake or not, my entire body lights.

  “You’re beautiful.” His voice is uncharacteristically serious, and he lifts my hand, slipping a wrist corsage made up of a cluster of white daisies to match my hair.

  A high-pitched squeal from across the room reminds me Sly and Henry are waiting. Aunt Regina has her phone on us, and she’s shooting pictures of me and her daughter and our dates. My eyes return to Scout’s, and I hold up the flower for his tux.

  “I’m not sure I can do this.” My fingers tremble, and I can barely remove the pin.

  “Let me see.” He takes it out and tucks it in the buttonhole of his jacket then pins it from behind. “There.”

  “One more photo…” Aunt Regina lines us all up and takes three more pictures until my cousin drags us out the door.

  “I can’t wait for everyone to see you.” Sly looks back at me from the front seat of Henry’s SUV.

  Scout and I are on the second row, and I smile, feeling super self-conscious. Then he reaches over to take my hand, lacing our fingers.

  “I like what you did with your hair. It’s cute.”

  “Sly did it.”

  He grins, and the little fish flipping in my stomach moves lower as his finger slides lightly across my knuckles.

  It’s two right turns and a left to the high school, and it feels like the time moves too fast. I’m not ready for everyone to see me in this dress with my hair in flowers holding the hand of the sexiest guy I’ve ever seen.

  “See you inside!” Sly grins mischievously, pulling Henry’s arm. “I’m beating you two through the door. This entrance is going to be bigger than my palmetto sculpture.”

  Sly’s floral arrangement is an oversized palmetto with palm flowers, hibiscus, and other tropical flowers to represent our state, and The palm is sacred, which Fireside’s town motto, which is weird AF. Regardless, it is breathtaking… Unlike me and Scout at this dance together.

  Scout helps me out of the backseat, lifting me by the waist and lowering me as if I weigh nothing. My feet touch the asphalt drive, and my heels wobble.

  I grasp his arm, inhaling sharply. “Whoa.”

  “You okay?” His voice is a warm breath across my shoulders, which are completely exposed by my short hair.

  It’s tingling electricity, and I nod, blinking fast. “Not used to these heels.”

  His expression is not his usual megawatt grin. It’s darker, more focused. I can’t tell, but it seems like he’s picking up on this new thing between us, this vibration that is decidedly not fake.

  With an Ugh! exhalation, I push past him and start towards the gym.

  Smart, focused, intentional—these are adjectives that describe me. Not boy crazy, ditzy, or infatuated. Sly put these ideas in my head… and the whole school acting like we’re the hottest gossip since that lunch lady got caught in the janitor’s closet with the lacrosse coach.

  Now that was juicy.

  It was also last spring.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” Scout catches up with me, running his fingers down the inside of my arm gently.

  He pulls me to a stop, and I look up at him, painfully gorgeous. “This is supposed to be fake, right?”

  His brow tightens, and he hesitates. “Why are you saying that? I told you this was just friends.”

  “I don’t know.” Shaking my head, I look down. “Everybody’s just so… invested. I wasn’t ready for it.”

  “So you get it now.” He steps back, crossing his arms. “You’re feeling the pressure. No more ‘you need to grow a backbone’ or whatever bullshit.”

  He seems really pissed by that, and I feel guilty. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

  This force feels like the time I swam in the ocean and got caught in a current. The water swirled around me, and no matter how hard I fought, it pulled me where it wanted.

  But is this feeling my fellow classmates, or is it him?

  I can’t think that way.

  Slipping my hand into the crook of his arm, I force a smile. I’m strong. I’m not letting them get me down.

  “We can do this. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 4

  His hands are on my waist, and we’re swaying side to side on the dance floor.

  Scout smells like soap and shave cream and something deeper, spicier, and I do my best to fight getting lost in his scent. I do my best not to close my eyes and rest my cheek against his broad shoulder and dream of what it would be like if this were real, if we left the dance and took his truck down to the beach. If we climbed in the back and made out, tongues sliding together, his knee moving between my legs, parting my thighs…

  The band is playing something slow, instrumental, but it feels like a sex song. It feels like what I imagine his fingers would do if they slid under my dress, rising higher, raising sparkles of sensation as they reached my center, slipping beneath my panties, lightly touching my clit.

  “Want something to drink?” His lips graze my ear, and I involuntarily shiver. It makes him grin. “Sorry.”

  I step back quickly, banishing those hot, sexy thoughts from my mind. Still, I’m flushed all over. At least in the party lights, I can hope he doesn’t notice.

  Clearing my throat, I shake my head. “Ticklish.”

  “Want something to drink?” He’s watching me.

  “Yeah, I’ll meet you back here.” Nodding towards the bleachers, I do my best to act like his friend, the smart, bookish antiques scout. “Bathroom.”

  He gives me that signature wink and heads towards the concessions stand. I hurry to the bathroom.

  Standing in front of the mirror, I wash my hands, waiting for the water to get super cold. As soon as it’s icy, I take my cold fingers and press them to the back of my neck. I do it again, waiting for the heat to subside. I’m not losing my way in all of this.

  I took care of the dampness between my thighs, and I’m determined to keep my thoughts focused. This is a game. We’re guarding each other’s backs. “We’re like those levees along the Mississippi River,” I say to myself softly. “We’re holding back the water.”

  “What water are you talking about?
” Mims steps around the corner, narrowing her brown eyes at me.

  Paradoxically, her snakelike appearance flips a switch inside me. This girl thinks she’s going to intimidate me. She’s got another thing coming.

  “We’re in the bathroom, Mims. What do you think?”

  “The toilet? You talking about toilet water?” Mims narrows her eyes and steps closer. “What about it?”

  “I wasn’t talking about toilet water, I was talking about the ocean.” A devilish thought occurs to me. “Scout and I love the ocean… all salty and slippery.”

  Her eyes flare, but she quickly grabs the reins. “You listen to me, Daisy Sales.”

  “I’m all ears, Jemima.” I happen to remember from visiting here at seven, Mims was Sticky Syrup Panties to all the kids.

  I don’t know the story, since I wasn’t a part of it, but I can tell she does by the way blue fire sparks in her eyes.

  “How dare you?” she hisses. “You’re messing with the wrong girl, Daisy Sales.”

  “What do you want?” My voice is calm, icy even. “Tell me and get out of my face.”

  Her brown eyes run up and down my body, lingering on the curls at my ears and the daisies around my head. “He’s only into you because you’re new.”

  For a moment, I consider correcting her. I’m not new. If I were, I wouldn’t know about Jemima, and Scout and I wouldn’t have been friends “for ten years,” as he likes to say.

  Instead, I decide to hit the devil head-on. “Or...” I step closer, looking down my nose at my nemesis, and feeling equally devilish. “He’s into me because I’m a bad girl. Haven’t you heard?”

  Stephanie’s eyes widen, and she clutches her Queen Bee’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  Mims knows she’s lost this one, but I can see she’s not happy about it. “We should get back to our dates.” Then she steps to me once more. “This isn’t over.”

  I don’t blink. I don’t move a muscle. I’m a stone-cold bitch staring down the meanest girl at school. Finally, she steps back and walks out the bathroom door, not looking back.

  Letting out the breath I’ve been holding, I collapse against the wall with a sigh. Nobody knows. Nobody saw. Still, I know this is the start of a shitty year. Even if I have Scout watching my back, there’s no escaping those two.

  Chapter 5

  My brother said if you want something, you have to go for it. No holding back, no second guessing. Second-guessing is the killer of dreams, he’d say.

  Daisy Sales is the thing that makes me second-guess everything, and I don’t know what to do about it.

  Swaying side to side with her small body in my arms, I lower my nose to inhale her scent of coconut and gardenia. She smells like a warm fire mixed with a day at the beach. Perfect.

  “What do you want to do that takes you so far from home?” She tilts her pixie head and blinks those round blue eyes up at me.

  With the daisies in her hair and the golden curls around her cheeks, she’s like some kind of fairy. She’s a sexy Tinkerbell taunting me.

  That is not why I asked her to be my wingman… Wing woman?

  Daisy is not supposed to show interest in me. She’s smart and focused and nothing like the girls at our school, or the girls who chase me. Daisy will keep me focused on my dreams—like she’s focused on hers.

  At least, that’s what I thought.

  “Oh, you know.” Clearing my throat, I look away from her, not wanting to tell her the pie in the sky dream I have.

  Guidance counselors said kids who dreamed of starting rock bands or becoming movie stars or famous novelists didn’t have a clear sense of reality. She gave us this whole long speech about how those kids had self-inflated notions of importance. Those kids thought they were somehow better than everybody else. Special.

  We were encouraged to find sensible careers like auto mechanics or welding.

  She never even considered the possibility that acting made me happy. That when I’d be in those school plays, I felt like I was ten miles high. I felt like I was taking the best adventure of all time.

  I was getting to live another life, be another person. Not in a weird, creepy way, but in a fun way, like wearing a costume. And when the audience laughed at my lines or cried or cheered… Hell, it just didn’t get any better than that.

  Did that make me a disillusioned dreamer?

  It actually makes me really insecure.

  I’m pretty much guaranteed a win if I stick with football. Hell, I really like football—when I’m playing with my brother, catching his passes and running them into the end zone for a touchdown.

  Otherwise, it’s just a game.

  Acting is next level.

  “Have you decided?” Daisy watches me, that smart smile curling her pouty pink lips.

  Her lips really make me want to kiss her.

  Which would be a huge mistake.

  “Decided what?”

  “If you’re going to tell me what makes you want to leave Fireside, when everybody here treats you like you hung the moon.”

  Lifting my chin, I look out across the gym. Can I tell her? I’ve never told anybody. I’ve been too afraid people would laugh at me… or worse, tell me I couldn’t do it. Tell me I was selfish. Tell me I was stupid.

  My eyes lower to hers, and I know the truth. Daisy Sales is special.

  “I want to be an actor.” My voice is just louder than the music.

  We sway a few beats, and her eyebrows lift. She doesn’t immediately laugh or tell me to shut up, which is encouraging.

  “An actor.” She pushes out her bottom lip and nods.

  I really like how she’s thinking about it as if it could actually happen.

  “When you say actor, do you mean like Broadway or—”

  “Hollywood. I want to move to LA after graduation and see what happens.”

  “Wow.” She lifts her chin, then nods slowly. “You’ve definitely got the looks.”

  “You think so?”

  Her eyes narrow, and it’s the first time since the start of our conversation she’s given me a look like I’m a dumbass.

  “Don’t act like you don’t know how you look.”

  “Okay,” I exhale a laugh. “I know I’m good enough for girls in Fireside. That doesn’t mean I’ve got what it takes for Hollywood.”

  “You’ve got what it takes.”

  We keep swaying, and a warm sense of satisfaction moves across my chest. She believes in me. She’s the first person I’ve told the truth, and she didn’t laugh in my face.

  She pretty much did the exact opposite.

  My shoulders straighten, and I stand a little taller. Tightening my embrace, I look down into her violet blue eyes. “And you want to be an antiques dealer?”

  “A buyer. Dealers have stores. I want to be the one out there scouting, finding the unexpected, priceless items hidden in the junk yard.”

  “Have you got a good eye?”

  She grins at me. “The best.” Then she gives me a wink, something I’ve never seen her do with any guy as long as she’s been in Fireside.

  Trust me, I’ve been watching.

  “I know a winner when I see one.” Her voice is so calm, so confident.

  I believe her.

  * * *

  Henry drops Sly and Daisy at Ms. Regina’s bed and breakfast by midnight, which Sly said is their curfew. We danced most of the night. I was named Homecoming King, no surprise there, and even less surprising, Mims Watson was Homecoming Queen.

  We had to do one dance together, which thankfully was short. Mims is like one of those remoras you see hanging off the side of sharks. She latches on, and you can’t get her off.

  She kept going on about how perfect we were together, and wouldn’t our parents be proud if we hooked up or whatever. I didn’t even bother to remind her my mom’s dead, and Dad hasn’t seemed to care about JR or me since.

  Henry walks Sly to the door, and I know he’s dying to kiss her. She still thinks of him as a friend, but Henry i
s head over ass for her.

  The hazards of living in a small town. We’ve all known each other since preschool. It’s hard to forget Henry used to eat playdough.

  Daisy’s hand is in mine, and she hangs back, watching her cousin with wide eyes before turning to me and whispering at my chest. “How far are we taking this?”

  Shit, I want to take it all the way. Still…

  “As far as you’re comfortable.”

  Lifting her chin, she blinks up at me and smiles. “You’re not what I expected, Scout Dunne. You’re really not.”

  “You’re exactly what I expected.” I grin, and she pushes my arm.

  “Rude!”

  Laughing, I catch her by the waist, pulling her body against mine again. “I meant it in a good way. You’re just as smart and thoughtful as I knew.”

  Her lips twist and she looks down. “Sorry. That’s really nice.”

  “I said before you were cute, but that wasn’t right.” Her head snaps up, and I huff a laugh. “I was going to say you’re really pretty. You’re beautiful.”

  She shoves my chest then, shaking her head and stepping back. “You don’t have to flirt with me. We’ve already agreed to this.”

  I stand back, watching her go to the porch steps. What have I agreed to, exactly? And how do I change it? Do I want to change it?

  Shit. My head’s getting all mixed up.

  “I’d better go.”

  She nods, but I can’t let it end this way. Closing the space between us, I catch her arms. She stops, but her eyes don’t meet mine. Little bumps of gooseflesh cover her skin, and her cheeks fill with color. She does that a lot, I’ve noticed.

  “Goodnight, then.” Her voice is soft.

  Glancing over at Sims, I know it’s now or never. “They’re probably expecting us to kiss.”

  Daisy’s eyes go wide. “We’re supposed to be friends.”

  “They don’t know that.” My eyes are on her full, dewy lips, and I step closer. My body is so close to hers, I can feel the heat of her skin. I can feel the brush of her breasts at my chest as she breathes fast.