Distraction (Westbrook Series Book 1)

by Laura Clark

  Trevor sighs and rubs his temple. "I just don't get it, Laila," he says, while shaking his head. "You should be angry. This is bullshit."

  "I am. I am so angry with Kyle right now, Trevor. He ruined everything."

  "What about Sam?" he says his name like it is a disease.

  "Actually, I'm angry with both of them," I admit.

  "I honestly do not get that guy, Laila. He chose Kyle over you? He did that the other day, too, when he went on that stupid double date."

  He's right. Sam did do that. I didn't even think about that before.

  "What a fool. I'd never choose any of my friends over you. It shouldn't matter if he's my best friend, or not. He would just have to get over it." He tilts my chin up, so he can find my eyes again. "If I had you, Laila, I'd never let you slip away," he almost whispers the last part with so much sincerity that I feel my heart skip.

  I take another deep breath and close my eyes, before nuzzling my face back down into the warmth and comfort of his chest, as his words echo in my heart. He smells so damned good. I feel like I am unable to have coherent thoughts right now. My heart is thumping loudly against my chest. His strong arms are still protectively wrapped around me, and my legs are curled perfectly in his lap. This all feels way too good.

  I wish I could uncover my face right now. I'm pretty sure he would kiss me, if I did. That is exactly why I am cementing my face to his shirt. I know it is still wrong for me to stay here in his lap, with our bodies so close to each other, especially since I am clearly feeling more than I should be for him.

  I just don't seem to be able to move, though. The comfort he is providing me right now is something I desperately need. I decide to hate myself later. The guilt that will follow is definitely the price I am willing to pay, in order to slow the crying and ease the pain that has plagued me since late Friday night.

  His hand is cupped around the back of my head, and his fingers are stroking my hair lightly. It reminds me of how Kyle was with Georgia by the pool. I can hear his heart hammering wildly against his chest. His breathing has also quickened. He feels it, too.

  It's hard to ignore it. There is this undeniable force pulling us together with such magnitude that we can't just dismiss it. The connection we have is just like gravity. You can build a plane with wings and put a powerful jet engine in it, to propel it through the sky, but it won't change the law of gravity. Without that engine, the plane would plummet back down to the earth. What goes up must come down. It's just the way it is, and it's damned near impossible to fight.

  We stay like this for a while. The silence is calming, easing the panic that was consuming me before. The only thing I can hear right now is the loud thumping of our hearts, coupled with the sound of our heavy breathing.

  It isn't until after my cell phone starts dinging, to let me know I have a new text message, that I make any attempt to break away from him. Every part of my body feels charged and alive when Trevor is touching me. The moment our contact is broken, I feel like all of that energy comes crashing down. In its absence is an overwhelming sense of loss and emptiness.

  Trevor's face looks completely flushed right now. I don't even want to think about how mine must look.

  I pull out my phone to see who is texting me. When I see his decoy name pop up on the screen, I am surprised. After the way he left things last night, Sam is the last person I was expecting to hear from this morning.

  Harry: Did you read the letter?

  I completely forgot about the letter. The envelope is still sitting on my nightstand at home. I silently curse myself for not reading it yesterday when I had the chance.

  Me: Not yet. Was too tired. Running four miles was probably not the best idea last night.

  Harry: Would you PLEASE read it? I'm going crazy here, Laila.

  Me: So, where is HERE? Where did you stay last night?

  Harry: I stayed at my cousin's house. I slept on the couch. :( I'm on my way back to school right now. I caught a ride with one of my friends. Kyle won't even answer any of my texts or calls. He's so pissed at me, Laila. I screwed up everything. It's so BAD!!!

  It really irks me that he seems more concerned about Kyle than he is about me. Does he even care about what I think? It makes me want to turn my phone off, and shove it back into my purse. Apparently, ignoring Sam is what works, anyway. Kyle seems to have that one all figured out.

  I re-read his text, trying to figure out the best way to respond, but it just pisses me off all over again. Screw him. He's the one who chose my brother over me. Right now, I'd choose anything over responding to his stupid text.

  I glance at Trevor, wishing I could curl myself back up in his lap. I figure it would be weird if I did that now. The moment has clearly passed. Damn you, Sam, and your stupid text. It's probably for the best, though. Trevor seems to wear down my resolve far too easily.

  "Are you okay?" Trevor asks.

  My tears have dried up. However, I'm pretty sure the tear tracks are worn down so much now, I will end up with permanent marks on my cheeks.

  "Yeah. That was Sam. He wanted to know if I read this stupid letter he left for me last night. I was crying so hard for most of the night. When I found it, I had finally stopped. I was afraid if I read it, it would make me lose it all over again. So, I decided to wait until today to read it."

  "Did you read it this morning?" Trevor asks, while scratching the back of his head.

  I shake my head. "We were so rushed to get out of the house this morning, I completely forgot about it."

  Trevor's eyebrows furrow, while his pensive eyes search mine for hidden meaning. "What do you think it says?" he asks me.

  I could be wrong, but his voice seems just a little bit shaky. It's almost as if he is nervous about asking me in the first place. There is something about the way he is looking at me that makes me think he is secretly dreading what my answer might be.

  "Honestly, I have no idea."

  "Do you think he wants to get back together with you?" he asks hesitantly.

  I hadn't thought about that. I shake my head again. "No, I think he would have stuck around if he wanted to get back together. He is already on his way back to school."

  Trevor looks at me doubtfully.

  "You should have seen the way he skipped out so quickly yesterday, Trevor. It was like I was the plague. He could not get away from me fast enough."

  My answer seems to relieve him a little, because his face relaxes and his beautiful eyes soften. I know he shouldn't react this way, though. He is dating Avery. Whether or not Sam and I are together, shouldn't matter to him. It doesn't matter. There is no possibility for Trevor and me. There never will be. It's better this way.

  I realize how much I'm lying to myself. Regardless, I will continue to do it, again and again. I'm hoping and praying that the repeated lies will be etched into my brain so deeply that I will eventually believe them. I can't be anything more than Trevor's friend. It's just the way it is.

  "So, thanks for um, helping me calm down. I kind of lost it there, but you were kind of . . . great. You're a really good friend, Trevor."

  He smiles, but I catch a flash of disappointment in his speckled green eyes. It is so fast that if I hadn't been so focused on studying the depth of his eyes, I would have completely missed it. His penetrating eyes reveal so much truth. No matter how much I pretend not to see it, they are always there, reflecting back at me what I already know deep down in my heart.

  "Okay, but we've really got to stop meeting like this. I feel like the worst guy ever. Is this closet cursed or something, because it seems like I make you cry every time we are in here together?"

  I laugh half-heartedly, and shake my head.

  "I really think you need to eat one of these cookies, Patterson. They are definitely homemade."

  He waves the plate in front of me, until I finally accept one of the cookies. They really do look good.

  "Thanks."

  "So, I think we are going over to your house after church. Do
you want to just ride with me? I have my car," he suggests.

  "Sure. Let me just text my mom to let her know, and then we can slip out the back."

  "Worried we'll run into Peter again?" he asks, knowing very well that is exactly what I am trying to avoid.

  "What makes you think that?" I ask sarcastically, as I turn my phone back on. I see right away that I have missed two more texts from Sam, but I ignore them. Instead, I fire off a quick text to Mom, before shutting my phone back down.

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Can't Blame the Girl for Looking

  While still hot, the temperature is much more tolerable today. The sun is shining brightly and the sky is completely devoid of clouds. It's a great day to be swimming. I throw on my strapless, drawstring maxi beach cover-up, over my old, sporty black tankini swimming suit, and slip on my gold Havaianas. I am not about to jog Trevor's memory of the whole bikini top, or I should say topless incident, by wearing it again.

  Trevor is already relaxing on one of the chaise lounges by the pool. He is lying there shirtless, sporting a pair of white and grey board shorts. His beautiful, bronzed skin is glistening with tiny, clear beads of sweat across his sculpted chest. I suddenly feel a rush of heat sweep through my body after gazing at him. It might just be time for me to get into the pool.

  "You see something you like, Patterson?" he asks with an adorable smirk. Why do those damned dimples have to be so freaking sexy?

  "You wish." I try to play it off, but he knows he just caught me staring at him. This, of course, just pisses me off.

  I should call Avery and invite her over. It would definitely help keep me out of trouble. After finding myself in Trevor's arms in the church coat closet again, I know that I will need all the help I can get. I can already feel the guilt seeping back into my system, as I shoot her a quick text. To my surprise, she answers my message right away.

  Avery Brookes: I'm sorry, but I can't. I promised my mom I'd help clean & prep the church before our charity dinner tonight. :(

  Me: Boo Hoo! :(

  Avery Brookes: Tell me about it! Swimming sounds way more fun. Have fun and tell my man that he needs to keep you smiling since I can't!!! :)

  Me: Thanks. :)

  Avery Brookes: BTW When were you planning to tell me that you and Sam broke up??? That's not exactly something your BFF should find out from your brother! You better c/m later and tell me EVERYTHING!!! I want deets, Lays! Xoxo :)

  Me: Sorry. I'll call you tonight and give you the full DL. :)

  I can't believe Kyle told her about the break-up. My head is riddled with questions now. When did she even talk to my brother? It's not like he's been home. Do they talk on the phone now, and if so, since when? How did Kyle even know about the breakup? Sam said Kyle wasn't answering his calls or texts. God knows, I wasn't about to give my brother the satisfaction of knowing, after everything he put me through. Is Sam really so desperate to win back Kyle's approval that he'd actually tell him about it in a text message? Hey Kyle. Don't worry. I dumped your jailbait sister. So, we can be friends again. Ugh.

  "Is that Sam again?" Trevor asks, barely hiding the irritation in his voice.

  "No. It was Avery. I invited her to join us, but she has church obligations and can't. I always seem to forget how busy she is on Sundays."

  "Yeah. She wants me to go to church with her, but I don't know . . . ." Trevor's voice trails off.

  "You should go. I've been to her church several times. It's very different from our church, but I like it. It's more modern. They have guitars instead of organs, and the music sounds like it could be on the radio. The prayers are not so old and scripted. It's like they try to interpret everything and make it relate to the modern world," I explain.

  "Yeah. I've been to a few churches like that back in Philly. Maybe I'm just too old-school and boring, but I sort of don't really feel like I'm in church unless the priest is wearing a robe, and the readings are real excerpts from the Bible," Trevor counters.

  I laugh. "Now that is just the Catholic guilt seeping from your pores, Trevor."

  He shrugs and throws his hands in the air. "What can I say? You might be able to take the boy out of the Catholic, but you can't take the Catholic out of the boy. Even though I'm an Episcopalian now, the guilt follows me just the same. It's almost like it knows I was baptized Catholic and is saying F.U. Trevor Maddox. You are a traitor."

  We are both laughing now. I remember when his family left the Catholic Church and joined our church. Trevor and I were maybe eight or nine years old at the time. I never really knew what the whole story was behind why they left their old church. They just showed up one Sunday morning, and it seemed like they were there every week from then on. That is, until they moved away.

  "Do you remember that one time when we were all playing outside on the church playground, and you swore to everyone that you could down ten glasses of water in five minutes?" he asks me, as a big smile sweeps across his dimpled cheeks.

  "Oh. My. God. How could I forget that? It was right after we ate all those cookies." I groan and rub my stomach. "I remember downing the first five glasses, and how proud of myself I was. I took one sip of the sixth cup, and instantly threw up all over the place."

  Trevor nods in between chuckles.

  "Then, it just continued on and on. I swear, it went on for like a half hour," I groan.

  "Uh, yeah? Did you forget about how you threw up all over my shoes?" he asks, in between fits of what is now full on, stomach-clenching laughter. "I had to throw those damned things away, and they were my favorite pair."

  "That's right. Then you started throwing up, too. I swear that Mark Larimore was this close to spewing all over the place. He was gagging and tripping all over himself to get out of the line of fire. Remember how he ran away shouting at the top his lungs?" I am clutching my belly because I can't seem to stop giggling.

  "And his crazy mom came flying out there all frantic, waving her arms in the air like a mad woman." Trevor shakes his head as his laughter subsides. "What a trip. Mark Larimore. That poor kid probably got beat up every day in high school," Trevor adds, as he catches his breath.

  "He never had a chance, did he?" I ask. Trevor just shakes his head.

  I remember Mark's scrawny frame and his '80s bowl haircut. He wore coke-bottle glasses, and even had metal braces with headgear. I always felt kind of sorry for him. He was a nice enough kid, but his mom was so overbearing, she didn't help him at all. Trevor, Kyle and I were pretty good with him, though. We played with him at church, and even invited him to our birthday parties. Actually, our parents made us invite him, but he didn't know that. I wonder where he ended up.

  "Whatever happened to Mark?" Trevor asks, as if he somehow heard me think it. I blink a few times in amazement. His uncanny ability to know what I am thinking reminds me a little too much of Sam.

  "The last I heard was his family moved to an undisclosed, neighboring city. Apparently, they started attending a church somewhere closer to their new house. I have no idea why it was all kept secret, but they clearly did not want to remain in contact with anyone after the move."

  "Hmmm. For all we know, he could have gone on to be the star quarterback of his high school football team," Trevor says with a hint of doubt in his voice.

  I look at Trevor and we both laugh because while it may be true, it is still hard to picture Mark Larimore as anything but the clueless, awkward little boy we remember.

  "Regardless, he'll probably end up being wildly successful and make a shit ton of money," Trevor adds, sounding a little more serious.

  "Yeah. You're probably right. He was one of those crazy smart kids. Those nerdy kids usually end up doing well for themselves as adults."

  I shake my head again, trying to imagine Mark without the glasses and all grown up. I look at Trevor again and start giggling. I may be a little slap happy at this point because I just can't seem to stop. It sure as heck beats crying.

  "What?" Trevor looks at me curiously, as the corners of his lip
s turn up. His green eyes are sparkling with amusement.

  I shake my head. "I'm still convinced there was something wrong with those cookies. I mean, I should not have continued throwing up like that. I don't think I've ever been that sick before." There are tears lingering in my eyes from all of the laughter. Thankfully they are the happy kind. God knows I've shed enough of the other ones already.

  He squints his eyes, as a huge smile stretches across his gorgeous face. "Wait, is that why you wouldn't eat those cookies today at church?" he asks.

  "It may have had something to do with it," I sheepishly admit.

  He roars with laughter.

  "Hey, I ended up trying one anyway," I say defensively.

  "Yeah, one. You are too funny, Patterson." His dimples are still showing, even though his mouth is closed and he is no longer smiling.

  "What is so funny?" Kyle's voice cuts through the hot air and stifles our laughter.

  "Nothing. We were just remembering . . . Never mind. I don't think you were there. Where was Kyle when that happened?" Trevor asks me.

  "I don't know . . . soccer camp?"

  "That's right." Trevor simply nods without rehashing the story. Neither one of us feel like sharing it with Kyle and thankfully, he doesn't seem genuinely interested.

  "Okay . . . Whatever. So, remember how you owe me, lil sis?" Kyle asks.

  "Hmmm. Let me think about that for a sec," I say while tapping my chin and pretending to think. I shake my head. "No, I distinctly remember telling you that I don't owe you anything and to get the hell out of my room," I say sarcastically.

  I'm still beyond livid with Kyle. After all, it is his fault Sam broke up with me in the first place. He needs to know that I am not going to easily forget that.

  "Come on, lil sis. I need your help," he whines. "Georgia is coming over today to meet Mom and Dad. I need you to help run interference and keep Mom away from her. You know how she is, Laila. She is going crazy over the fact that I'm even bringing a girl here. I really don't want her to scare my girlfriend away. Please, just help me out, okay?" he begs.