Beach Town Bad Boy: A Briarwood High Novella

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Beach Town Bad Boy: A Briarwood High Novella Page 2

by Dallen, Maggie


  Good times.

  I couldn’t stop grinning at the memory of Deacon’s easy smile or his laugh that I could hear even now. It might’ve been years, but being back here had the memories racing to the forefront of my mind. In some ways it felt like no time had gone by at all.

  I stopped when I reached Max’s. Despite the relatively early hour, music was already booming from the entrance, the bass making the air vibrate. A tall, burly guy with broad shoulders and big biceps was sitting on a stool out front, leaning against the doorway. Dark hair fell in his face and tattoos covered every inch of his exposed arms. The bouncer gave me a nod to go in as I approached, but I caught a glimpse of his expression and his scowl made me want to run and hide.

  I glanced down at the ground as I passed him, intimidated more than I cared to admit. I hurried past him, but that unfriendly glare had my confidence waning in a big way. I mean, I’d felt all pretty in my little sundress and purse as I’d walked down Main Street, but now as I felt the bouncer’s eyes on me I felt…young. Silly, even, for showing up at a club in a pale yellow sundress better suited for Sunday school.

  I walked into the club’s main room and blinked as my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. I was vaguely aware that the bouncer had followed me inside, probably about to ask me what on earth I was doing here. I spotted a friendly looking bartender behind the bar where a few patrons sat as they watched the band on stage warming up.

  I headed toward the bartender and his friendly smile, and away from the scary bouncer who was still hovering behind me. “Hi,” I said with a bright smile.

  The bartender smiled, but his gaze flickered over me from head to toe and I caught a flicker of confusion. “Can I help you?”

  Are you selling cookies or something? Jason’s words from earlier came back with a vengeance, and I had the distinct feeling that this bartender was thinking something similar. Amusement flickered in his eyes and I didn’t miss the quick look he gave the bouncer who was still standing behind me, just out of my line of sight. I had to resist the urge to look back at him too to see what he was doing.

  His presence behind me was unnerving. At best I feared he was mocking me, and at worst I was afraid he was going to confront me if I made eye contact. Hassle me about what I was doing here when I was so obviously out of place.

  I stepped closer to the bar and rested my elbows on the ledge. The bouncer leaned against the bar beside me. There was a good foot between us but he still felt way too close. I tried to ignore his presence, but it was impossible. I could feel the weight of his stare, and it felt like he was looming over me even though he wasn’t invading my personal space. My whole body was keenly aware of his presence beside me, on edge and alert in a way I hated. Maybe it was the tattoos…

  “Did you need something?” the bartender asked, his expression one of mocking amusement now in the face of my silence.

  “I’m, uh…” I gave the bouncer a quick glance out of the corner of my eye before facing the bartender again, my smile growing automatically. Nerves turned me into a grinning fool, I couldn’t help it. “I was hoping to find Deacon Turner.”

  The bartender blinked. “Deacon Turner?”

  I nodded.

  “Deacon, huh?” The bartender’s lips seemed to twitch with mirth and his gaze shot over to the bouncer again. He’d ducked his head down so his expression was hidden by his hair, but I saw his shoulders shaking slightly.

  I wasn’t being paranoid. He was laughing at me. They both were, and they weren’t even trying to hide it.

  I wanted to bolt, but I’d already come this far. And by ‘this far’ I didn’t mean I’d walked down the street, I meant I’d driven six freakin’ hours. There was no turning back now. Could I explain my insistent need to see my old friend again? No. But I didn’t owe these guys any explanations.

  I summoned my inner Blake as I let my gaze roam over the club. There were guys in black hustling around on stage, moving equipment, testing the mic. Maybe he was back there. “I was told he worked here.”

  “Oh yeah?” The bartender was outright laughing now. “And what do you need with Deacon?”

  I didn’t miss the way he stressed Deacon’s name, just like Jason had. The bartender laughed and looked to the bouncer. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him shaking his head in amusement at this shared joke at my expense.

  “It’s, uh…it’s personal,” I said.

  The bartender’s brows shot up. “Personal, huh? In that case…” He gave me a little wink that made me feel dirty as he backed away. “Let me go see if I can find Deacon for you.”

  “Thank you.” My cheeks were on fire. He’d made the word personal sound scandalous, like I was here looking for my baby daddy or something. I shifted at the bar, watching the bartender as he headed toward the door leading to an employees’ only area. Just as he was about to disappear through the door, he turned back and shouted to the bouncer. “Yo, Deek! There’s a pretty girl here to see you.”

  Chapter Two

  Eleanor

  I stood there watching the doorway where the bartender had disappeared for what felt like an eternity. It was probably a matter of seconds, but my heart was pounding in my ears and my body was doing something weird—it felt like I was falling and floating all at once as his words registered and my brain tried to make sense of them.

  I turned slowly. The bouncer’s head was still ducked down as he rested his forearms on the bar. The position made his tattooed biceps bulge, his black T-shirt pulled tight against the muscles of his back.

  This was a joke, obviously. The bartender was kidding, trying to make me think that this guy was Deacon, when he couldn’t be because—

  The bouncer lifted his head and familiar green eyes met mine.

  Oh.

  Oh my.

  I attempted to swallow but my throat was dry. This was not the kid I remembered. This was a guy. A man. My gaze flickered over the tall, broad frame and the sculpted arm muscles covered in tattoos.

  This was very much a grown man standing in front of me.

  But when my gaze flickered back up to his face, I caught the start of a smile. The little show of amusement was enough to bring out those dimples I remembered so well, and those eyes… Well, there was no denying those eyes.

  “Deacon?” It came out too high and breathy.

  His smile grew but the laughter in his eyes wasn’t exactly kind. He was laughing at me, not with me. “Most people call me Deek these days.”

  That voice. It was at once familiar and all new. The cadence and the laughter in his tone were the same, but it was lower, much more fitting for the big guy before me than the fourteen-year-old kid I remembered.

  As I stared at him, all amusement faded from his face and his gaze flickered over me, taking in every detail just like I was studying him. “What are you doing here, Ellie?”

  I blinked at his tone. It wasn’t mean, necessarily, but it wasn’t welcoming either. He sounded…wary.

  I swallowed. What could I say? I don’t know. That was the truth but it made me sound like an idiot…or a crazy person. Who hopped in a car and drove six hours to see a childhood friend on a whim?

  Me, apparently. There was a chance I could laugh it off if I was, say…Lola. My friend Lola was exactly the type of person to act on a whim. I could totally see her doing something wacky and unpredictable like dropping everything to go see the boy she’d hung out with once upon a time.

  He was watching me, waiting for an answer. But I didn’t have one so I found myself echoing him. “Most people call me Eleanor these days.”

  One side of his mouth hitched up. “Eleanor, huh?” He pulled back slightly and openly eyed me from head to toe. “Still look like the same old Ellie to me.”

  I felt the words like a smack across the face. I’d grown up, I’d filled out. I wasn’t the gawky thirteen-year-old I’d been the last time he’d seen me. But I shuffled my feet uncomfortably under his gaze because suddenly I felt like a child. I mean…look at him
. He was a man.

  Had he meant that to be an insult?

  I looked into his eyes and saw…nothing. No negative emotions but also none of the warmth I thought was synonymous with Deacon.

  But he wasn’t Deacon. He was Deek now.

  I took a step back. I wasn’t sure I liked this Deek.

  “How’d you find me?” he asked.

  “Jason.”

  He nodded. When he didn’t say anything, I found myself rambling. “I stopped by your house, but your mom wasn’t home. Jason said you were working here, so…”

  One of his brows hitched up ever so slightly when I trailed off. “So you thought you’d just swing by?”

  I swallowed again. How’d he manage to make ‘swing by’ sound like a felony? “Yeah, I thought…I figured…I thought maybe…” I stumbled to a stop. Taking a deep breath, I tried again. “I just wanted to say hello.”

  His lips quirked up on one side in a smirk that didn’t fit my memory of Deacon at all. Those familiar-but-not-at-all-familiar green eyes met mine. “Hello.” Maybe it was the low register or the way he was looking at me so intently, but that one silly meaningless word made me shiver.

  “H-hi.” Oh good gracious, I couldn’t even say hi without stammering. I straightened to my full height, which didn’t do much to give me leverage because he straightened as well, and now I had to crane my neck to look up at him.

  I waited for him to say something. Anything. I waited for him to break out of this weird Deek character and wrap me in a big hug the way he used to when I’d first get into town. But he just stood there staring at me like I was a stranger so I started to back away, desperately trying to cover up my disappointment before he could see it.

  “Well, I guess you’re working, so I’ll just…” I didn’t finish. I spun around and headed for the door.

  I might not have known exactly what I was looking for when I headed to Sterling Beach, but that?

  That was not it.

  Chapter Three

  Deacon

  I tried to shake off the guilt the next morning as I made breakfast for me and Jason. Work had kept me preoccupied enough the night before, and when I wasn’t working the door or keeping an eye on the crowd, I was hanging out with my buddies who almost always showed up when I was working, mainly because I let them in for free.

  No one can pass up a free deal, even if it means hanging with a lame preppy crowd like the ones who were there last night. The band had a following, it seemed, but their fans consisted of teenyboppers and uptight, bratty princesses.

  The thought of spoiled princesses brought with it the very image I’d been trying to rid myself of all last night and into this morning.

  Ellie, standing there with those big blue eyes and that impossibly sweet mouth. Ellie with the willowy figure of a ballerina and the long blonde hair that made me want to run my hands through it to see if it felt as silky as it looked.

  It did. I might not have touched her hair last night, but I remembered. I remembered everything, that was the problem.

  “Your little girlfriend was here to see you,” Jason said by way of greeting as he came out of his bedroom looking half awake and grumpy as ever.

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” I snapped without thinking and was rewarded by Jason’s smirk.

  He reached for some bacon. “She doesn’t know about Mom.”

  I nodded. There was a reason for that. I’d never told Ellie that our mother died two years ago. First, because I was too stuck in grief to reach out to anyone, and then because I realized that it was better this way.

  It was better that Ellie was out of my life, and telling her about our mother’s death would bring her back. I might’ve had my issues with Ellie, but there was no denying the fact that she was nice. No, kind. That wasn’t a word I had occasion to use all that often, but with Ellie it fit. She was too thoughtful and empathetic to sit back and keep her distance if she knew I was in mourning.

  So yeah, if I’d reached out to her and told her about Mom, she would have come back, but I chose not to. I’d chosen to let it go. I’d let her go. And honestly, ever since then I’d started to think that I’d never see her again. No, I knew without a doubt I’d never see her again.

  And then she’d walked into my club.

  I shook my head and turned back to the stove. “Why’d you tell her where to find me?”

  Jason gave a snort of amusement. “Why? Is it some secret?”

  I glared at him over my shoulder. He knew I didn’t want to see Ellie. Neither of us were big talkers and we steered clear of uncomfortable conversations like the plague, but he was still my brother. He knew exactly how I’d felt about her.

  “Hey,” he said, holding his hands up in defense. “Don’t shoot the messenger, man. She’s here to see you, it’s not like she wouldn’t have tracked you down eventually.”

  “You didn’t have to encourage her,” I said.

  He was chuckling as he reached for some more food. “I’m not your bodyguard, bro. It’s not my job to protect you from the old love of your life.”

  I stilled with one hand hovering over a pan of scrambled eggs. Love of my life. What a joke. It had been a stupid childish crush. An infatuation, nothing more. I went back to stirring the scrambled eggs. Besides, it was over. That crush was history.

  Once again an image of Ellie flashed in my mind’s eye. She’d grown up. It was easier to tell myself that crush was old news when all I could picture was a young girl. The Ellie who’d shown up yesterday? She was a young woman. She looked the same, but different. Still with the long hair and the blue eyes, but she’d filled out in all the right places and her face had thinned, her features less soft and round, and more defined.

  She was stunning. She’d always been pretty, but now she was beautiful.

  Sexy.

  I dropped my spatula onto the counter.

  Nope. Not going there.

  “So?” Jason asked through a full mouth. “What did she want?”

  I stared at the counter. “Uh…”

  “She didn’t say?”

  I scratched the back of my neck as the guilt I’d been trying to shove to the side all morning made swift work of rearing up in full force. “Not really, no.”

  “Well, what did she say?” Jason asked.

  I turned around to face him. “Why do you care?”

  He smirked. “Just curious. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that girl.”

  I gave a grunt of acknowledgement. It had been a while. Three years to be precise. Three long, life-changing years.

  It might as well have been a lifetime.

  “She seemed just as sweet as ever,” Jason said.

  “You make that sound like a bad thing.”

  He shrugged. “Not bad, just…not your type.” He gave me a sudden wicked grin. “Not anymore, at least.”

  I gave him a fake smile in return, feigning amusement. “You’re hilarious.”

  He snorted around his food. Apparently just the memory of my former heartbroken pain was entertaining for Jason.

  Before you get the wrong idea, I should explain. It wasn’t like I was really in love with Ellie or anything. I’d only been fourteen the last time I saw her, I didn’t even know what love was. That was before my mom got sick, before my dad stopped sending checks, before everything in my life seemed to fall to pieces.

  Ellie had just been my closest friend, and yeah…maybe I’d had a crush on her. I wasn’t sure when the crush started, but it had grown to become a major infatuation by the time she arrived that last summer. But when she showed up, she was all excited about her first boyfriend—some preppy basketball player she’d been friends with since kindergarten. Which was odd, I’d thought, because she’d never mentioned him before.

  That summer I started to realize she’d never talked to me about any of her friends from home. I don’t know why it had never dawned on me before then. I’d been content to live in our little bubble; I’d thought what we had was something special.<
br />
  I guess you could say that my eyes were opened that summer. Our friendship might have been special, but it wasn’t real. Not like her life back home. While Ellie was an integral part of my life, all I ever was to her was a summer distraction. I kept her entertained for a few weeks over the summer, but when she went back home…she had a whole other life.

  Her real life.

  A life that didn’t include me at all.

  The more she told me about her boyfriend, the more obvious it became. He was the one she wanted. He fit into her life—her real life, not just her yearly vacation. He got to see her all the time, at holidays and in school. His parents were friends with hers and he was friends with her girl friends.

  I guess that last summer was the first time I realized that she had a life outside of us. A life I’d never be a part of. Worse, that summer was also right about the time that I’d understood what all the fuss was about when it came to girls. Up until then, we really had been just friends. I’d been content with that. But that summer when I was fourteen? I didn’t want to be her friend. I’d wanted to kiss her. I’d wanted her to light up with excitement over me the way she did every time she mentioned her boyfriend.

  That summer I’d been convinced that Ellie was the only girl on the planet for me. She was the beginning, middle, and end of my world. I’d thought she was my true love, but it turned out she was the first and last girl to break my heart.

  By the time she went back home, I was a wreck. I’d thought I’d never recover from the pain.

  Of course, that was before I knew the meaning of real hurt. That was before I understood grief and struggle, and before I’d truly grasped the fact that there was not now, nor would there ever be, a place for the likes of me in the world where Ellie lived.

 

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