David sighed, closing his eyes, immediately envisioning the pain in his sister’s eyes as she lay recovering in that hospital bed, learning that the guy who had caused the whole issue in the first place, had up and taken off, leaving her after her accident. Mason was a runner, took off when shit got too tough. He’d never change, no guy who ran could change. Hell, David was the living, breathing, poster boy for that very idea, so he knew how their minds worked. Mason would hurt her again, it was inevitable. So in the end, the guy deserved the pain of rejection for once.
“Hey, I know I screwed up, and I’ll probably regret leaving her for the rest of my life. But Jesus Christ, David, I freaking love that girl…so much! I don’t think anybody understands what she means to me. She’s everything to me, and all I want to do is marry her, make her my wife; grow old with her. There is no way I could ever be without her. She’s my…everything.”
Groaning under his breath, David reopened his eyes, but didn’t respond. Yeah, okay, the dude had changed a little apparently. Harley told him that, a shit ton of times actually. But did David trust him entirely? No…not at all. In fact, he probably never would. Because once you screwed with his family, you would never again be good enough, or trustworthy enough. Acceptable maybe, but that was pushing it.
Too though, David knew exactly what it was like to love like that. He experienced it, daily, loving Abigail with every ounce of his being. But he couldn’t compare his feelings to Mason’s. He and Abigail were…different.
“Okay, let’s just say that she did agree to marry you? Then what would you do?” What would Mason Daniel’s take on marriage be? He didn’t approve of the idea of his sister getting married so young, but his opinions wouldn’t matter in the end anyways if she decided to take that plunge. Harley was stubborn as shit, and not a single person would ever be able to tell his twin how to live her life.
Clearing his throat, Mason rubbed a hand over his forehead. Sweat formed on his temples beneath that hair of his, proving that his nerves were rattled. A tiny part of David almost felt bad for messing with the guy, but with Harley, he couldn’t be too careful, especially when it had to do with her future.
“Well, we wouldn’t have to get married right away. I mean, we could have a long engagement while she finishes up school. I want to save up enough money to open the surf shop on the pier. Maybe in like, two years or something we could go to Vegas, and make it official, or if she wanted, we could have that whole shindig of a wedding back home,” he shrugged, as they finally pulled into the small parking lot right off the edge of the beach. “I don’t know, man, I mean it’s all screwed up now though anyways. She’s been acting really weird ever since I asked her, quiet all the time, jumpy even, especially since you guys got into town. It’s like she’s walking on eggshells around me, worried that she’s gonna crack, or crack me instead. We’ve never had this issue before; I hate it, and have no clue how to handle it.” His gaze burned into the blue waters ahead with both determination and fear. The guy looked tortured and maybe even a little confused, too.
“Hell David, I feel like I am going to crack every time I’m around her.”
“Oh yeah? What the hell do you mean by that?” David leaned over the back seat to grab his crutch, pulling it into his lap. He settled his hands over the top of the cushion as Mason leaned further down into his seat.
Silence emanated through the car and David squirmed, suddenly uncomfortable with having such a serious conversation with a guy he didn’t even really like in the first place. The last thing he wanted was to develop a sense of friendship with a pansy who wore his hair like a girl.
“Well, it’s kind of cheesy, I know, but I feel like my heart cracks every time she comes near me, but in this explosive, awesome good sort of way, you know?”
Swallowing hard, without responding to that all too familiar sounding feeling, David opened his door and slipped out onto the gravel parking lot. What the hell did he say to him exactly? Especially when he knew how it felt to live like that? Every time Abigail was even in the same house as him he could practically feel her presence, like it consumed him. His insides threatened to burst with this insatiable love that he couldn’t deny whenever her blue gaze tore through her black lashes and settled on him. When Abigail looked at him, he felt like he could do anything. Be anyone.
“No, it’s not cheesy, Mason.” He shifted his weight on the crutch as he slammed the door shut with his elbow. Mason edged out too, settling his elbows on the roof. His sorry eyes bore across the roof at David. “It’s love, dammit. That’s what the shit does to you. It’s the best fucking feeling in the world, and also the worst torment you will ever feel.”
Damn. This really was a crappy idea wasn’t it? Yeah, he knew it wasn’t the time or the place to discuss his deep emotions, but to hold it back any longer was like the worst sort of pain. He had to tell someone how he felt before he cracked and withered away into the sand only a few feet ahead of him. He stared down at the ground, seeing his prosthetic peeking out from under his shorts, reminding him again that he could never again act on his feelings.
“I feel it every single day when I think of, or even see Abigail,” he finally sighed, unwilling to see Mason’s reaction.
The waves crashed off to their right onto the beach, piercing through his thoughts. The two of them were nothing alike; Mason the surfer boy who all the girls got giddy over, and himself…the one legged wannabe who looked like he had a mop on his head instead of real hair. But standing there in the late afternoon sun, along the beaches of this beautiful city, David was terrified to admit to himself the two sets of truths that didn’t seem to want to escape from his head.
Number one: Mason was the closest thing he had to a buddy in over two years, even if he didn’t really like him; and number two: His feelings for Abigail would never go away, and he’d forever be in a state of torturous limbo if this life didn’t deal him a better hand of cards soon.
I’m totally turning into a pussy…
A white t–shirt fell across the hood of the car, shaking David from his morbid thoughts. And then Mason was gone—his board strap attached to his ankle, his longboard thrown over his shoulder. Silently, Mason took his thoughts towards the water, leaving David there with the need to reflect on every single emotion racing through his mind.
A row of white chairs caught his attention a few feet away from the lot. With crutch in hand, David hobbled towards the stretch of comfort awaiting him, sinking into the hot sand the entire way. All the while a sense of longing built in his gut as he watched Mason kick and paddle his way out towards the waves. Damn…if only he’d get to experience that, just once in his life.
He settled into a chair instead, staring down at his leg, reminding himself that the possibility was a lot further off than what he’d hoped it would be. Sure he could get in the ocean, feel the warm salty air run over his heated skin. All he had to do was unfasten his leg, slip off his shirt and shoes, and dive right in. But he wouldn’t embarrass himself. Not today—or most likely not ever.
Masses of people surrounded him. Parents building sandcastles with their little ones. Kids burying each other in the sand. One father in particular caught his gaze, holding a toddler, no older than two. The boy was thrown into the air, around and around in a circle, over and over. The giggles emanating from his tiny mouth were infectious, and David smiled, just staring at the scene, envisioning himself in the man’s shoes for the shortest of seconds.
His son or daughter would have Abigail’s blue eyes…his own black hair. They’d be on vacation together, as a family, visiting their Aunt Harley and Uncle Mason every summer. The thoughts of picnics and late night bonfires infiltrated his mind, just as an unmistakable ache of sadness rubbed raw against his ribs and stomach. God, to have that kind of life, to truly envision that sort of happiness with the girl he loved both scared him and excited him at the same time. But his fears were constant reminders as well, telling him that he’d never get the chance to obtain that sort of
pleasure in life, no matter how much he wished it.
He shook his head, tucking his face into his palms, rubbing away the imaginary thoughts running freely in his head. The sun burned down on his neck from behind, torturing him, but also telling him that with the happiness he so desired, came the inevitable pain of never being the man Abigail deserved.
An hour or so passed, and David glanced down at his cell, checking the time. They had to go out tonight; to an actual place, where real people his own age hung out. Shit. He wasn’t looking forward to it. Not just because of the stares he’d get when he’d hobble in on his plastic leg, or the fact that he really hated being anywhere near alcohol and stupid people. But because of the girl he’d have to sit by and watch shamelessly flirt with every douchebag who approached her.
“Dude…you ready to get out of here? I’m sure the girls are back, probably burning our dinner as we speak.” Mason approached from the side, only half laughing as he shook his hair out like a dog and slipped his shirt over his head.
“Yeah, guess so…” Truthfully, David didn’t want to go. This place was awesome—a little too thought–provoking—but awesome. He blinked, staring out over the water, watching the few surfers left out there braving the late afternoon tide.
“Hey, um, could you not say anything to Harley about what I told you earlier today, you know, about the whole getting married stuff? I don’t want her to know that I’m upset about her rejection.”
David nodded once, staring at Mason’s profile as he looked down at his bare feet. It was more than obvious that he was stressing about this thing with Harley more than he let on. David wasn’t okay with the marriage thing, but to know that Mason was taking this as hard as he was really irked him, especially since he didn’t want to feel bad for him. But it was kind of too late for that, and he sort of already did. He was obviously hopelessly in love with Harley, but rushing into a marriage, or a proposal, even when it felt so right, would probably end badly.
“I won’t, Mason. Don’t worry.” David arose, standing next to him, hovering at least a foot over his frame. He smacked him along his back in a brotherly manner, and Mason gave him a nod in response, still unable to bring his gaze to level with David’s.
“Now, if only we could make sure you get the best friend, right?”
David choked, straining to breathe as he glared down at Mason’s all–too–smug face. He curled his lip, snarling at the guy. Damn him for being such a sneaky punk. Never, in all of David’s life, had a guy turned their own crappy situation into crap for someone else like Mason did.
“Knock that shit off. I’m not going to get anyone. I love the girl, but I’m not the man who deserves to be loved by someone like her.” Mason shook his head and sighed, before they started back towards the car.
“Listen,” voice lowering, turning too serious for his surfer boy caliber status, “I’m not really the poster child for deserving love. If you remember right, I freaking let my dad die on a beach without doing anything to help him. And then I ended up leaving Harley when she needed me the most. If that doesn’t constitute not deserving real love, then I don’t know what else does.”
His eyes turned dark, like his skeletons were beating their way to the surface. Mason was supposed to be the tough as shit nineteen–year–old, with a smart–ass attitude, who was ready to take on the world with his surfboard. He wasn’t this self–loathing shithead with a major emo mojo thing going on.
“That stuff is in the past now. My sister forgave you. I’m sure your dad would too. Those were accidents—things you couldn’t have predicted. You’re not damaged, dude, not like I am.”
Yanking the door open with a huff, David tossed his crutch into the back before settling in the passenger side for the short trip back to the apartment. Mason slipped in too, staring over at him with a look that clearly spelled disbelief and irritation.
“Dude, you’re not broken. You’re just damaged,” he started his car and backed out onto the road. “That outside stuff doesn’t matter anyways. It’s the feelings and the emotional shit that gets you both laid and in love.” Mason hit the gas, and smirked. The guy was a freaky, poetic pissant.
The windows were down, the sun roof was open. David couldn’t hear much, but what he did hear both irked him and made sense at the same time. “It’s actually pretty cool to have a guy to hang with that isn’t living and breathing surfing, you know? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have a tendency to do that very thing myself, but now that I have my Little Beast, I don’t get pissed if I miss a day on the waves anymore.” He grinned, rambling on as he punched the gas and headed down the road. David shook his head, but he snorted at the same time. This guy was fucking nuts. “But what I’m trying to say, without seeming like a complete douchebag pussy here, is that you’re a whole hell of a lot cooler than I first thought. Especially when you’re not kicking my ass…”
Jesus, this guy was teetering on a line of coolness and annoying at the same time. “Guess that’s something.”
“Yeah, it is. But now all you’ve got to do is stop being such a wussy when it comes to Abigail. From what I understand, this crap between the two of you has been going on for way too long,” he shifted gears, the sound of the wind rushed through the car, eliminating the late afternoon heat with the gusting of the cool, ocean breeze from their right. “So do your sister and Abigail both a favor here, and quit fucking feeling sorry for yourself. Go home and get your girl, because I can tell you right now that she won’t wait around forever.”
David paused. This guy was blunt, no doubt. In fact, there was nobody in the world, besides his sister, who could tell it how it was like Mason Daniel could. And for once, maybe, David thought about taking the guy’s advice…even if it was only for tonight.
Chapter Thirteen
A knock sounded at the bedroom door. Abigail wrapped her towel around her chest tightly, tripping her way over David’s bags as she reached for the knob. And there, with eyes as red as hell itself, stood Harley.
“Oh honey, what happened?” Abigail crooned, wrapping her friend in an immediate hug. She pulled her through the threshold towards the bed. Dammit, if Mason had screwed with her more, then she was going to flip her shit completely.
Abigail’s sopping wet hair dripped down her shoulders and onto her arms, but the dampness was nothing compared to the tears falling from her best friend’s eyes. “He asked me again. I thought we had it settled. I told him I wanted to wait…but he had to go and bring it up once more. Now things are weird between us, and he won’t say hardly a word to me. I’m so scared that I screwed it up again! What do I do? I love him and I do want to marry him… just not yet. Not at nineteen.”
Gasping, Abigail pulled back and pressed her fingers against her lips. “Um…what did you say?” She swallowed heavily, feeling her throat tighten as she did.
Marriage… Harley and Mason… No…no–no–no. This couldn’t be for real. Harley’s shoulders fell, and she plopped her head back on the pillow. Abigail turned over onto her stomach and fell with her. Apparently she wasn’t the only one holding back secrets after all.
She reached over and brushed one of her best friend’s curls from her drenched cheeks.
“God, Abigail, this is so messed up,” she threw her arm over her forehead. “And I’m so sorry. I was going to tell you and all…tonight too. But I didn’t want to upset you with all of my crap, when you’ve got so much going on yourself.” Abigail smiled sadly. That was Harley; always worried about everyone else.
“Okay, fine, he asked you to get married, no biggie. I’m not pissed you didn’t tell me, Harley. I’m worried because I don’t like seeing you so sad.”
“I mean…ugh, I dunno. I’m happy in this weird, messed up sort of way. But at the same time…” she shrugged, moving her arms down to her side again.
“Hold that thought. Lemme get some clothes on, and then I want to hear it all from the beginning.” Harley nodded, smiling through her tears.
Abigail took a dee
p breath, stood, and threw on a pair of sweats, followed by a random black t–shirt that just so happened to be David’s. Yeah, um, she’d have to change out of that soon…maybe. But she still couldn’t help but inhale the scent of his bodywash or cologne, or whatever the hell it was, as she slipped the soft material over her face.
Stalking back towards the bed, she plopped onto the mattress, combing through her wet hair as she settled in next to Harley. “Okay, now, tell me what the hell’s been happening here, because it’s apparent that life has taken quite a turn for the both of us.”
Giggling, Harley sat up, sitting cross–legged in front of her. “Okay. So he asked me like, three weeks ago. It was so freaking romantic too…” Harley sighed, completely swooned over with her memories, obviously. She crossed her arms over her knees and settled her chin on her arms. “It was on the beach…with candles, because Mason is the Candle King you know. We had a surfboard picnic, and he fed me chocolate freaking ice cream, with chocolate fudge…” she shook her head, looking lost in a memory, fighting a grin at the same time. “I mean, Jesus…it was every girl’s dream!” Longing filled her brown eyes, followed by more tears. Damn tears, they were bitches. “And I told him that I loved him, but I also told him no…because I wasn’t ready,” she wiped at her tears, and Abigail clenched her hands together to keep from reaching for her. If she did, then she’d cry too because seeing her friend so tore up, made her body burn with sadness. “And he seemed okay with it, agreeing with my reasoning and all. But then just a little bit ago, like five minutes actually, he started in on me again, wanting me to at least wear the ring. I told him I didn’t feel right wearing it yet and he flipped out on me, begging me to wear it so I can at least show that it’s a someday thing for the two of us.” She bit her lip staring down at her bare left hand. Mason had a tendency to push and push. It was the best and worst quality about the guy. “I love him…so, so much, and I know he’s the one for me and all, but…” Her fingers flexed, and Abigail reached down to hold them still.
A Long Time Coming Page 10