I pull on a pair of lightweight overall shorts—I’d agreed to black. The fabric is soft and I match it with a white and green striped, fitted T-shirt. I slide on my flip-flops. On the way out of my bedroom I spot the light blue sweatshirt Carter had let me borrow and grab it.
That’s when the doorbell rings.
Did he come to the door?
“I’ll get it,” my mom’s voice carries upstairs.
“It’s okay,” I shout, running down the hall. My pocket catches on the railing and jerks me backward. I hear her approaching the door and I untangle myself. “Mom, I’ve got it!”
By the time I get down the stairs she’s standing in the open doorway. “Carter, come on in. Are you looking for Atticus?”
He steps into the house wearing a pair of faded jeans and a black shirt layered over a long-sleeved gray one. His hair is damp and clean, the scent of his shampoo engulfing the room. He smiles at my mom and then looks over at me, those dark soulful eyes taking me in. “I’m here to see, Bea, actually.”
“Oh,” Mom says, clearly surprised. She’s always had a soft spot for Carter and after learning about his mom, some of that makes more sense. Even so, she’s not clueless, having a daughter go out with Carter Haines would be worrisome. The Line of Concern slashes her forehead, although she tries to cover her confusion by smiling awkwardly at the two of us. “Bea, I see you’re ready. Um, where are you going?”
“Jackson Rowe is having some people over,” I say. “It’s no big deal.”
The door is still open and I’m hoping to make a fast break, but another figure walks up and I mentally curse when I see Katherine on the step.
“Katherine, you’re here, too!” My mom says with overenthusiasm. “Did you know Carter and Bea are headed over to Jackson’s house?”
“Oh really?” a voice says from upstairs. My brother appears, looking like a J. Crew model. “That’s where we’re going.”
“It is?” My mother can’t even hide the relief. The Line eases. I shoot Carter a glare. No one said these two would be going. “A double date, then?”
Atticus reaches the landing and an awkward moment passes through all of us. I don’t want to make a scene but there’s no way I’m double dating or whatever this is with my brother and Katherine. The last thing I need is for them to study me and Carter too closely.
“That sounds great,” Katherine the Traitor says, looking at my brother hopefully.
“Sure,” Atticus says. He looks at Carter. “Is that okay with you?”
“Fine with me,” he gives a tight smile. “But I’ll let Bea decide.”
All four sets of eyes shift in my direction and as much as I want to say no, heck no, I see the look in Atticus’ eye. This is a dare. A test to see if this relationship is actually real and what me and Carter are up to. I flash them all a big smile and say, “I think it’s a great idea.”
“You guys have a good time,” Mom says. I move to pass her and she pulls me aside. “Carter Haines? What’s going on?”
I shrug. “We work together and realized we have a lot in common.”
“You do?” She knows good and well we do not.
I look toward the door. “They’re waiting.”
“Okay, but Bea, Carter’s got quite the—”
“Reputation. I know. He’s trying to fix that and I’m happy to help him.” She seems impressed and skeptical. This annoys me. “What? I help people.”
She doesn’t look convinced. Like I said, my mother isn’t dumb. “Have fun, Beatrice. And lay off on your brother and Katherine for one night.”
Annnnd she had to say it. “Bye, Mom.”
I head out the door and find Carter leaning against the stone wall by the front porch, hands in his pockets. He’d waited for me. There’s a hint of apprehension on his face. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Just getting a little last minute mom-ing.”
“Ah,” he says, with a small grin. “She warned you about me?”
“No.” But yes, and he knows it. “She’s not used to me going out and socializing.”
He laughs and pulls his hands out of his pockets and offers me one. I take it and feel a spark of energy when our hands touch. We head to my brother’s car, where I see the two of them in the front seat. “You didn’t want to drive?”
“Nah,” he says, squeezing my hand. “I figure the two of us in the back seat together will make your brother just about blow a gasket.”
I laugh, feeling a bubble of warmth in my chest. “You’re right. It’ll kill him.”
Just before we get to the passenger side of the car he says, “I know doing this is hard on you, but I promise I won’t do anything stupid tonight, okay? Nothing that will embarrass you or make it seem like this is less than what we agreed on.”
“Thank you,” I say, feeling another wave of warmth.
Carter opens the door for me and I get inside, bracing myself for the night ahead. Anxiety fills me just being alone with these two. The pity from before has been replaced by a different kind of scrutiny and I feel like at any moment I may blow this whole thing, embarrassing myself even more.
The door opens and Carter slides in, instantly taking my hand, and I wouldn’t have believed it a week ago, but just having him here makes me feel better.
Free-er.
And that alone is terrifying.
16
Bea
“So what’s with your names, anyway?” Carter asks as Atticus drives to Jackson’s house.
“What do you mean?” my brother asks. Our identical eyes meet in the rearview mirror. I can tell he’s not pleased about any of this either—just for different reasons.
“Atticus and Bea? Those are kind of old-fashioned names.”
“They’re literary,” I reply. “Atticus is from To Kill a Mockingbird. Bea is for Beatrice.”
“What book is that from?” His knee touches mine and all this closeness is getting to me. Carter may be as good of an actor as he is a swimmer.
“The Ramona books,” Atticus jumps in. “The older sister’s name is Beatrice—or Beezus.”
I groan. Everyone knows Beezus is the worst nickname ever and Atticus loves to use it. I give Carter a hard look, “Don’t call me that.”
“Atticus,” Katherine says, touching his arm across the console. “You know she hates that.”
The last thing I need is Katherine defending me and my hackles instantly rise. I don’t know how he knows, but Carter must sense it because he throws his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. Although my heart hammers in my chest, warning me of getting too comfortable, it’s all part of the plan.
“I like it,” he says. “Beatrice, that is. I totally thought your name was 'Bee' like the insect for years. Bea makes way more sense.”
I look up at his face, wondering if he’s making fun of me, but his expression is genuine. “It’s weird how we’ve lived next door to one another for all these years and didn’t know that much about each other,” I muse.
“It is weird,” Atticus says from the front seat, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He pulls the car into the long, winding driveway. Jackson lives on the ocean front, his house—no, mansion—massive. It’s not like our family doesn’t have money, but there are different levels of wealth even in the gated community. This is a whole other stratosphere.
“What do Jackson’s parents do for a living?” I ask, peering out the window to the house that almost resembles a castle.
“His dad is a producer for Avondale,” Carter says.
“What?!” Katherine and I shout at the same time. We look at one another excitedly. Then I remember I’m angry and focus back on Carter.
“You’re kidding. Avondale? Like he knows the actors? Like he knows Dean Turner.”
Carter and Atticus share a look. Carter shrugs. “Yeah I guess.”
My brother parks the car behind another that has an Academy sticker on the back window. Carter removes his arm from my shoulder but offers me his hand, and I slid
e out of his side of the car. He doesn’t let go and that hand, that soft hand with long, delicate fingers has become something more than a farce, it’s become an anchor for me to hold on to.
“Bea,” Atticus says as Carter and I start to walk off.
“What?”
“I know you’re a huge fan of the show but, really, don’t act like a stupid fangirl in there. For once in your life, just be chill.”
My eyes dart to Katherine and I laugh. “You’re going to give me that speech and not your girlfriend? Because you know she’s the one that snuck in Dean Turner’s dressing room at MegaCon and was caught by security, right? She’s the one that had to get his autograph? I was, at best, an accomplice.” I pull Carter by the hand. “Whatever. You’re so full of it, you know? Judging me when Katherine and I lived identical lives for ten years. Suddenly she’s okay and I’m not. You keep pretending I’m the one with a problem, Atticus.”
I walk toward the house and the louder and louder thumping music, Carter following close behind.
“You guys really did that?” he asks, when we’re a good bit away.
“Yes,” I say, not really wanting to delve into my full-out nerdy, fangirl history with him. “I know it’s embarrassing and not what you want all your cool, popular, jock friends to know about me. At work we can get away with this but here, with school friends? They’ll definitely question the validity of this relationship. You and all your athletic hotness and me, quirky and sunburned. I mean, I can’t even apply sunscreen adequately.” I take in his handsome face and sigh. “I promise I’ll try to be normal.”
Carter watches me for a moment, then does that thing where he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. Every time. Every. Freaking. Time. It gives me chills.
“I’m starting to understand you a little bit more every day, Beatrice Clark, and one thing is for certain, I don’t want you to be normal. I like your goofiness. And your quirky nature. I like how sure you are of yourself while also being completely insecure at the same time.” He touches my cheek. “I even like your red nose, because I know you got it while protecting me at work today.”
My heart thrums in my chest as he says all of this, staring down at me with those intense dark eyes. He towers over me and there’s a part of me that wants to run—fast and far away—because there’s a feeling in my stomach, one that twists and turns and I may be inexperienced, but I know what it means.
It means I have feelings for Carter Haines and that’s the dumbest, stupidest thing I could ever do.
Over the pounding of my pulse I hear my brother and Katherine walking up and I see the intent in Carter’s eyes shift, darting in their direction, then back to mine, and I instinctively know what he’s going to do.
Kiss me.
He leans forward and his lips are so perfect, so pink, and when he’s just an inch away, so close that I can feel his breath, I whisper, “Cheese.”
He pauses, eyebrows furrowing. “Huh?”
“I said cheese.” Did my voice just come out funny? Like a cat being strangled?
He nods, jaw tensing, then takes a step back, like he’s orienting himself. Katherine and Atticus pass us heading into the party, music spilling onto the porch as the door opens.
“Come on,” he says, heading in the open door, the moment between us over. I follow him in, unsure of what will come next, but there’s one thing I’m certain of. Even though I stopped Carter from kissing me, for a brief second, I definitely wanted him to.
17
Carter
Cheese.
That girl really used a safe word on me right before I kissed her. I mean, thank goodness she did, right? Because kissing Clarke was not a reasonable or rational thing to do.
We’re fake dating, which means that if we’re going to kiss, then someone, preferably Atticus, Katherine, or my boss Erin needed to be around to see it. That’s the point of this whole ridiculous affair—proving to those people we’ve changed.
That almost kiss tells me I haven’t. Because Clarke wouldn’t be the first girl I’ve tried to kiss at a party. That’s all it was. Normal, typical, Carter behavior. Me, completely mis-reading a situation and going with my impulses and not my brain.
Still, a rejection is a rejection. I brush off my damaged ego and walk into the party, feeling more disappointed than I should.
I mean, going into this thing, I knew Beatrice was inexperienced. I’d called her out on the fact she’d never had a boyfriend. She’d told me she’d never been kissed, yet I still went for it.
What an idiot.
First kisses should be pretty spectacular and Beatrice deserved something nice. Sweet. Which probably makes me the absolute wrong guy to give it to her. She probably knew that, too.
Jackson’s house is massive—the kind of thing you’d see Tony Stark living in or something. There are people everywhere. He doesn’t care who comes, he just wants them big. There are kids from the Academy and Ocean Grove High. A cluster of freshman girls stand near the marble fountain in the entryway. They’ve got gobs of makeup on and ridiculous high heels. I recognize one from a party a few weeks ago—one I talked to before I realized she’s only fourteen.
She eyes me like a piece of meat and I instinctively reach for Clarke’s hand.
“Hey Carter,” she says, giving me a slow wink. I don’t remember her name. Not because I was drunk or high that night, although she probably thought I was. I just wasn’t interested enough to find out.
“Hey,” I say, tightening my grip on the warm hand in mine, veering us into the front room.
“Friend of yours?” Bea asks in a snarky voice. “Maybe someone you babysit?”
I laugh darkly. “No and no.”
Stepping over the threshold, we walk into a small sitting area. The first person I see is Wendall Pierce. I fight a grimace.
Coming here with Beatrice was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea.
“Carter!” he calls when he sees me—his eyes shift to where my hand clutches Clarke’s. I almost drop it. I don’t want him even aware of Bea.
“Hey man,” I say, actually releasing her hand so I can go over and shake his.
He grabs mine and pulls me in close. “I got some new product if you want to test it out.”
“No, thanks.” I glance back to see if Clarke heard that. She just looks incredibly uncomfortable. “I’ve got a meet coming up.”
“Gotcha. Your dad still testing you?”
“Yeah.”
He nods his head at Bea. “Who’s the girl?”
I don’t know why I lie. “Someone I work with.”
He nods and looks between us like he’s trying to figure it out. A week ago, I would have done the same thing, but not now. When she’d walked down the stairs at her house in those cute little overalls and that snug striped T-shirt, I felt a tightening in my chest. Her nose was bright red from the sun and her hair is pulled back in some kind of messy bun-thing, leaving wispy hair curling by her cheeks.
“She’s cute.”
“Yeah, she is.”
It hit me right then. There’s no one else I’d rather spend time with.
And it hits me now, with Wendall looking at me with such confusion. I’m tired of this life; this charade. I’m ready for something different. I’m about to reach for her and tell her we should get out of here, but I hear a familiar voice call my name.
“Carter!”
Sabrina.
She enters the room, dressed to kill, looking like an older version of those girls in the foyer. I’ve seen this girl in a barely-there bikini, but she makes the red dress she’s wearing look even more daring.
“Hey,” I say, looking back for Bea. She cocks an eyebrow. She’d saved me once today.
Sabrina comes in for a hug but I sidestep her, slipping my arm around Bea’s waist. She stiffens at the contact but doesn’t move. Sabrina frowns at the rejection and tosses her long hair over her shoulder. “I heard you mention you were coming tonight. I was hoping we could hang out.”
/> I smile, slow and cocky, but not at her, at Bea. “Sorry, I promised Bea we’d hang out tonight.”
Sabrina’s eyes skim over her. “Oh right, the camp girl from The Club. I didn’t recognize you without your Harry Potter suit.”
Bea’s cheeks burn and I tighten my arm around her. “Yeah, I think that was for me,” I wink. “Bea knows how I love to sneak out at night and get in trouble.”
Sabrina brushes it off and leans in. “Listen, can you hook me up tonight?”
“Uh, no.” I glance at Bea, there’s a line slashing her forehead. “You shouldn’t get into any of that here tonight. I wouldn’t trust it.”
She pouts and shares a look with her friend. “Oh well, guess we’ll hit the punch in the kitchen.”
They head down the hall and Bea watches me closely.
“Why did you tell her that? I heard what Wendall offered you.”
I shrug. “Because contrary to popular opinion, I’m not always a bad guy.”
She studies me for a minute, like she’s trying to figure me out. I almost tell her to join the club, because I’m still working on that too.
18
Bea
With the family drama in the front yard and a near-kiss on the porch, I start my first official high school party feeling more off kilter than even before. The only consolation is that within moments, my long-held suspicions that house parties are overrated is confirmed.
I can’t deny that everything is a little surreal since I’m here with Carter. True to his word, he sticks by my side, although there’s a tension I didn’t feel in the car. I can’t decide if it’s the fact we're around other people—his friends—or the result of our awkward almost-kiss. Probably both.
There’s an uncomfortable encounter with a girl way too young and way too underdressed in the foyer. Then Wendall Pierce, infamous for his shady reputation and bleary red eyes at school, seems overjoyed to see Carter. That leaves a hollow feeling in my stomach and a reminder of Carter’s past. No wonder Wendall looks at our linked hands with such fascination. Why would he be with a girl like me? And equally, why would I be here with a boy like him?
Bea and the Bad Boy: Young Adult Sweet Romance (Love in Ocean Grove Book 3) Page 8