“You’re nineteen, Harley, you’re not ready. It’s understandable to feel pressured about a commitment like that. And you shouldn’t feel ashamed for following your heart.”
Her eyes squeezed shut and she nodded. Abigail’s feet twitched, demanding her to get up, to dart out into the hall, find the bastard, and tell him to just lay off her best friend. But too…maybe Mason knew exactly what he was doing with his pressuring. He was already undeniably in love with this girl, and when he wanted something, he didn’t stop until he got it. Sometimes Harley needed that extra push. But Mason also needed to respect her wishes. And if she wanted to wait, then she should be able to do so without feeling guilty about it.
“I think he’s worried about me leaving him… It’s like, all of a sudden he’s afraid that I’m going to up and disappear.” Yeah, Mason had an insecurity problem. The boy had lost a lot, and always pushed to make sure he wouldn’t lose the things he loved again. But Harley had lost a lot too. Her innocence, her first love… The pair moved at two different paces in life, and it was about time they met in the middle somehow.
“Well, have you given him any indication that you were unhappy or something?” She shook her head no, but there, behind her wet eyes, was a secret. “What are you not telling me, Harley? I know that look.”
Frowning, Harley rubbed her hands along the back of her neck. “Okay, well, one of my professors encouraged me to apply to UCLA for a scholarship—an architectural scholarship. And I was kind of interested in applying, so I told Mason about it and he didn’t say anything. Not a congratulations, not a single word or anything. I mean, I thought he’d be excited for me.” Defeat etched Harley’s lips as she frowned. And soon, more tears followed, confirming her obvious sorrow.
Abigail’s heart broke, and she reached for her fully this time, wrapping her in a lose hug. “Harley Ann, do not do this. Going to UCLA is a fantastic opportunity for you! Mason may be scared to lose you, but he has no right to hold you back from achieving your dreams, honey.”
The nerve of that boy; for him to try and make her feel bad about accomplishing a goal of hers…? Ugh. Seriously, maybe his pretty face just needed a good smacking. Abigail stood, anger boiling in her veins, she was about ready to do just that.
Harley reached over and pulled at Abigail’s arm. “Don’t, Abigail, it’s my problem and I’ll deal with it, okay? This night isn’t going to be about the bad stuff anyways. We’re going to have fun, the four of us.” A smile graced Harley’s face. But it was forced, contrived. Not at all Harley.
Growling, Abigail crossed her arms. “Fine, okay, but this conversation is not over. Got it?” Harley nodded, standing next to her, but the sadness there in her eyes was as haunting as ever.
“Okay then,” she took a deep breath, “it’s time to sexify you for my brother. We gotta make him see that his baby’s mama is too hot to pass up.”
Hot? Really? Yeah, that’s the last thing Abigail was anymore. Bloated and puking and dizzy, um, yeah, that was more like it.
Clad in her favorite lacy, blue halter top, Abigail followed Harley out of the bedroom fifteen minutes later. She pressed her sweaty palms against the front of her jeans, and wobbled down the apartment hallway towards the kitchen in a pair of ridiculously high black boots. Yeah, she was all about the boots. And the sexy heels too…usually. But damn, the only thought that passed through her mind as she turned into the kitchen, was hope. Hope that her preggo hormones hadn’t earned her a one way face–plant ticket to the ground.
The boys were conversing at the table, almost to the point of being friendly, which was entirely weird because David hated Mason’s guts. But all thoughts, including confusion and curiosity, fled her mind when David’s gaze rose from the table top and settled on her. Oh…hot damn. The boy was looking beyond smexy in his black t–shirt and long cargo khaki shorts tonight. His cheeks were adorably flushed from being in the sun today, and Abigail’s fingers tightened at her sides, wanting nothing more than to find a home on his skin under that shirt. David had an upper freaking body to die for.
His eyes were wide, and he blinked—repeatedly—as he glanced up at her from the table. His lower lip fell open. His beautiful, brown eyes held heat, and need, and that flame of love she was burning up with herself. Abigail’s stomach fluttered as she neared him, unable to pull her gaze away from his perfect, long eyelashes. The things were sinful as they seemingly danced across his cheekbones. And the icing on her David cake was when a smile broached his full, kissable lips. Sweet Jesus…those lips… She wanted to have them all over her skin again.
Get it together Abigail, you’re a big girl now, you are more than capable of handling this without thinking with your vagina.
“So…where’s this club exactly?” David shook his head, averting his gaze back down to his plate as he questioned Mason. Abigail slipped into the chair next to him, deciding that it was now or never to get her pursuit started.
“It’s right next to the beach, in a little strip of shops near the place we hung out today. It’s pretty cool,” Mason shrugged unenthusiastically, stirring his food around on his plate with his fork. “I think you guys will like it.”
Frowning, Abigail found Harley’s gaze, seeing how it was one hundred percent glued to Mason’s face, in that confused, anguished sort of way. Okay, talk about tension. It was time to break it—with a machete if she had to—otherwise, this night was going to be wicked long.
“Sounds cool. I’m excited!” Abigail added with a too–high pitched, completely unnatural squeal.
It sucked trying to ease moments when her own nerves were already shattered due to the fact that she was so enthralled with the scent emanating off of David’s body. And yeah, excited wasn’t a good word for it anyways. Terrified? Hell yeah! That was it completely! The thought of going out tonight gnawed at Abigail’s stomach, like she had these tiny bugs chomping away at her intestines. Or maybe that was just lunch and the tiny creature forming in her gut reacting. This was not at all how she wanted her first clubbing experience to go though, and she had to think fast if she was going to turn this night into a memorable one.
“Well, let’s get this shindig on the road then, shall we?” Harley’s voice took on a screechy tone too, suddenly looking brighter than she’d looked all night.
Tipping her head to the side, Abigail studied her best friend. Um…what was brewing underneath all that curly hair of hers? Harley stretched over towards Mason, gifting him with a kiss before standing and heading to the door. Abigail chewed on her lower lip, knowing exactly what her best friend was doing. Dammit, she was crying again.
“Okay Harley, enough,” Abigail grabbed at her shoulder, twisting her around to face her at the closet by the front door a few minutes later. “You can’t let this get to you tonight, okay? Screw Mason and his pouty–ass ways, if he’s not happy, then you need tell him to grow some big balls, and lose the puny nuts. I won’t put up with it, and neither will David.” Abigail pulled her into a fierce hug, and Harley seemingly let it all go. Big, wet tears soaked Abigail’s halter top, dampening her skin underneath, “I mean seriously, he’s got to get his shit together or else I’ll get it together for him, you hear?”
“She hears you, Terminator.” Mason growled from behind, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be alone with my girl.”
Turning on her heels, Abigail pointed a fist out in front of her towards the root of all the problems. “You hurt her again you jerk face, then you’re gonna be answering to me. Got it? You’ve been warned…that is all.” She unleashed her words, unaware or caring about anything else but letting the dip wad have it. “I’m sick of you fucking with her, Mason.”
“Abigail, it’s fine, okay? We’ll just meet you and David outside at the elevator.” Harley’s warm hand found her shoulder, but it wasn’t enough of a distraction to keep her from wanting to crack the guy’s nuts.
At his name, David slipped from around the corner, his gaze first concerned then confused when he spotted the th
ree of them huddled together. “What’s going on here?” Okay, that was her cue.
Pushing out her chest, Abigail inched forward, grabbing David’s hand to pull him around towards the door. He didn’t budge at first, but she was persistent as shit, yanking on his shirt until he was forced to do as she silently commanded.
“If you’re messing with my sister again, you douche, I’ll—”
“David, seriously. Let’s. Go.” Finally, he followed, crutching his way behind Abigail towards the door, groaning under his breath with every step and click–clack of her heeled boots.
They made it as far as the hall, before he unleashed his rage. “Did you know the dick asked her to marry him?” Abigail nodded, her face emotionless, wondering where he was going with this. “I mean, shit, they are so young for that kind of lifelong commitment! If they went through with it now, then they’d just wind up divorced in two years anyways,” he ran a hand through his hair, the curls sticking up in all different wild directions as he pulled his fingers out. “I mean, first it would be marriage, and then…then it’d be fucking kids…” he shook his head, shivering, making his way towards the apartment elevator.
He punched the button hard with his fingertip, over and over. Abigail cringed, hating when he got angry like this—hating this side of him—but wanting to hug him tight to keep him from losing complete control. “I mean, shit, can you imagine? Kids, at nineteen?” He threw his head back, staring at the white ceiling. His eyes shut and he laughed a humorless laugh. “I guess I should be thankful she’s not pregnant, huh? Jesus…” his eyes widened, appearing terrified. “I mean shit, Abigail, you don’t think…”
Pressing a trembling hand against her throat, Abigail stared down at the tile floor. Breathing was becoming impossible. Dammit. If this was how he felt… No. It’d be different. It’d be his own kid—it was their kid he’d be concerned about. She nodded, determined not to let this be a sign, even though it surely was.
“She’s not…” but I am.
A door slammed from behind, followed by the flip–flop of four feet on the tile. The air was minimal as Abigail found the strength to look behind her. Eyes red, but a smile on her face, Harley looked about as put together as Abigail’s mother, after a sex romp with the Bob the Builder guy.
“You guys ready?” Mason sighed, all doom and gloom and wretched. His arm was settled at the small of Harley’s back, but their body language said it all. The two of them were falling apart… Sign two that this night wasn’t about to go well.
They slipped silently into the elevator together. Abigail had the sudden urge to stay behind. It was just too bad her urges were never strong enough to outweigh what was right and wrong in the end.
Chapter Fourteen
The layout and size of the nightclub was damn impressive. The first thing that caught David’s eye when he entered the doors was the giant aquarium that lay beneath the plexiglass dance floor. Exotic–looking fish that most likely came from the ocean swam freely underneath, while lights reflected several neon colors under the water. It was as if the fish were swimming in some sort of psychedelic rainbow pool.
The bar itself had a tropical feeling, too. The entire counter was built out of an aquarium, just as the dance floor was. The four bartenders were busy concocting drinks, all dressed to the hilt in matching lighted shirts. It was corny as hell. But for some reason, Abigail couldn’t help but watch as they moved around.
Glancing over towards Abigail, David’s jaw clenched when he saw the awe in her glazed–over blue eyes. She was focused fully on the pairs of bodies that moved in unison across the dance floor. Dammit…he should be the one to go out there with her when she was ready to dance. She belonged in his arms alone—nobody else’s. But again, there was no point in prolonging the inevitable. She needed to be free of him, free from their connection that he knew she felt just as powerfully as he did. But still, another pang of jealously dug deeply into his chest as he watched her inch her way with his sister towards the action.
He shook his head. Jesus… The first fucker that touched her would… Oh hell, what was he thinking? Again, he had absolutely no claim over her. She wasn’t his to stake…even though he’d die emotionally if she became someone else’s.
He snarled under his breath, and turned to follow Mason towards a set of tables to sit his ass down and keep watch. When it came to the sexy blonde he’d been in love with since childhood, he was so screwed up and there really were no limits as to what he might do if he followed her out there.
Settling into a chair, his head instantaneously started to throb, almost in sync with the tempo of the bass pounding in the speakers that surrounded the bar. Christ. Now was not the time to go all–out migraine. Inhaling, he took a deep breath and pressed his face into his palms. All he needed to do was make it through this night in one piece. Then he could go back to the apartment and get some sleep. This time tomorrow he’d be back in his own bed, sleeping miserably under the roof he dreaded.
Unable to keep his gaze from her body, David leaned back in his chair, and stared at her backside as she moved with the pace of the music. She was beautiful, a complete temptress to his starving body. He swallowed, his throat becoming so dry he couldn’t possibly keep his mouth wet if he tried. “Fuck me,” he growled under his breath, unable to sit still. He settled his palms flat against the table top, his eyes burned from not blinking. But he couldn’t do that very thing, for fear if his eyes closed, then he’d miss something. And Abigail, dancing out there, all hips, ass, and sass was a sight he couldn’t stop focusing on for anything.
“Dude, I think you’ve got a little drool right…there,” Mason flicked at David’s chin with his finger, laughing. David glared back at him, swatting his hand away with a growl.
His body was hard, every inch of it, and he was ready to take his frustration out on Mason if he didn’t knock that shit off. “Hey, you’re no saint either. I saw how you were watching my sister, and I’m not exactly cool with you undressing her with your eyes, you shit–face.”
“Sorry,” Mason shrugged, not looking the least bit sorry actually. He picked up a napkin, only to shred it into tiny pieces on the table. “It’s just that,” he cleared his throat, suddenly looking all–out lost, and most definitely like a dude in love, “…she’s so damn beautiful.” His brows pulled together as he continued his napkin destruction. With each pull of his fingers, the more pissed off he appeared.
Together, the two of them were some sorry–ass suckers.
“Hey, she’s my twin sister. I know how beautiful she is. But Mason, seriously,” he kicked his shin to catch his full attention. Mason scowled, but the move served its purpose at least, and his angry gaze leveled with David’s. “Whatever is going on with you two tonight, you need to fix it. I can’t leave here tomorrow night knowing that the two of you aren’t going to be copacetic with one another, you hear me?” David glanced out towards his sister as she danced goofily next to Abigail. Her smile was wide, and her tears were finally gone. But how long would that last? How long would she stay that way? He knew from experience, that her happiness could be robbed from her in a moment’s notice. He loved that girl with every fiber of his heart and he wasn’t about to let this guy fuck her over again.
The silence of the moment was soon interrupted as a group of Mason’s buddies joined them at their table. David shifted in his seat, sizing them all up, one by one. Yeah, they looked like the types that belonged here—all surfer and tan—what he like to call California–ized. Unlike David for sure, who had the sunburn from hell going on, and a headache from hell to keep things interesting.
“Hey guys, what’s up?” Mason hollered over the loud music, high fiving a few of them in the process. One guy in particular stood out. And damn was he intimidating as shit. Long, straggly black hair hung over his freaky green eyes—he had that brooding, tortured thing down even better than David did. He was the type of guy his sister and Abigail would both drool over. Skater, surfer, tough–ass, all rolled in
to one six foot five package.
“Good to see you, Mase. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you much at all since the tournament scene and the accident. You been out on the water at all?”
Mason shrugged, looking a little broody himself at the mention of his accident. David hadn’t been around when it happened, obviously, but from what Harley had told him, the recovery of it all hadn’t been as bad as they’d feared. But he still had a slight limp to show for it.
“No. Not really. I’ve been doing some private lessons and stuff, trying to save up a little more money to open the shop I want down on Ocean Avenue. Nothing major though.”
Another white–headed douche piped in, like some sort of nosey dick–wad. David wasn’t about to step up—make his presence known either—but there was something about this pussy he immediately didn’t like. “You still got that pipe dream, dude?” He laughed, knocking back the last of his beer. “Man, you know that place is way too much to handle, especially for someone as washed up as you.” Mason frowned, unresponsive as the guy chuckled. David glared at his sister’s boyfriend, surprised as hell when he didn’t respond to the dig. Instead, Mason only cleared his throat, playing ignorant, before he started talking to his black–haired friend again about his sister, Maisy.
David’s back went ramrod as he studied the bozo. He tilted his head to the side, thinking of all the ways he could lay him out. He was the linebacker from hell during his freshman and sophomore years of high school, that had been three years ago; but he knew if he called upon his inner beast, he could easily lay this prick out, one leg and all.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to be a dick and not introduce you all. This is Harley’s twin brother, David.” Mason did all the intros a few seconds later, and they were cool, the black–haired one the most. David soon learned that his name was Jake, but that was about it. He wasn’t in the mood for social niceties.
A Long Time Coming Page 11