Evolve Series Box Set

by S. E. Hall

  “Hey.” I touch his shoulder, shocked that he flinches at my touch.

  “Hang on.” He holds up a finger and sighs. “Please just give me a minute.”

  I back away, letting him calm down and take in my surroundings. Not that I come here a lot, but how have I never seen his office? I scan again, more closely this time. It’s very “Danesque,” with large, bold furniture, minimal color and perfect order. On his desk is a picture of me. It’s in black and white, a close up of my face in profile. I don’t remember him taking it, but there it is—the thing he chooses to have right next to him—me.

  When I turn back around to see if he’s settled a bit, he’s staring back at me. “It was the day we went fishing with your dad. You were lost in thought. The wind blew your hair in your face and you didn’t even notice. I tell myself, every time I look at it, that you were thinking of me.”

  “I probably was.” I walk towards him now, seeing he’s back to himself. He reaches a hand out to me, gently this time, and I take it, letting him pull me into his chest. “Are you okay?” His voice is strained, a mix between caged anger and fear.

  I shake my head, rubbing a palm over his heart that I can feel pounding erratically. “I’m fine, babe, it’s over now.”

  “I was watching you dance, smiling, having fun. I saw him move in and I got to you as soon as I could. Not soon enough. Were you scared?” He kisses the top of my head and squeezes me tighter. “Did he hurt you?” His voice cracks now, as though he’s afraid to hear the answer.

  “No. I mean yes, I was a little scared, maybe just surprised. And no, he didn’t hurt me.” I lift my head from his chest and grab his chin, forcing him to look at me. “Hey, I’m fine. He was a little grabby and forward, but nothing crazy bad. I’m fine, I promise.”

  “I wanted to kill him. I still do.” His jaw ticks and I lift my hand to cup it, running my thumb back and forth slowly.

  “Babe, it’s okay, calm down. Some guys are jerks and think all girls on a dance floor are up for that sort of thing. But he didn’t hurt me, and I don’t feel overly violated or anything. You got there in plenty of time. Thank you.” I lift up and kiss him softly. “I love you and I really am fine. Are you okay?”

  He scoffs, kissing my forehead. “Worried about me.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry I lost it, but no one’s allowed to touch you like that.” He holds me tighter, inhaling a big breath. “Can you meet up with me before you dance next time?”

  I know he wanted so badly to make that a demand instead of a request. I’m a firm believer in reinforcing good behavior. “Absolutely. Good idea, babe. Now,” I look up at him and smile flirtatiously, trying to lighten the mood, “can you kiss me senseless then come dance with me?”

  He groans, taking my mouth in a feverish kiss, unleashing his frustration in it. His hands roam greedily, grabbing my ass and pulling me fiercely against his hardening groin. “We could just stay in here, have our own party,” he suggested, his voice hoarse.

  As tempting as that sounds, all our friends are waiting for us, and he is kinda the host. And we do that all the time, but rarely do I agree to “tie one on.” It pains me to say it, but I do it anyway. “Babe, we need to go be with our friends. We’ll be alone later.”

  “You’re my friend.” He sinks his teeth into my neck, teasing every part of me at once. “Just for a little while?” he pleads.

  “If I have to hang and be all shits and giggles, so do you!” Impeccably timed as always, Sawyer’s yell comes through the door as he beats on it. “Pull your panties up! You too, Laney, and get your asses out here!”

  “Why in the hell are we friends with him again?” Dane grumbles as he adjust himself, then scans over me with somber eyes, reassuring himself one last time that I am, in fact, all right.

  “Because he’s wonderful and we love him.” I kiss him then grab his hand. “Now come on and have fun, dammit, or no nookie for you later.”

  “Hi!” I greet Sawyer when I open the door. “We were just coming to find you.”

  “Uh huh,” he smirks, “now listen. Zach doesn’t want a scene, so stay cool, but Avery just walked in.”

  “She can’t stay. I want Zach to have fun.” I start walking, feeling them both hot on my heels. No scene, huh? I might have actually considered it, but it appears that ship has sailed—first Dane’s fight and now this. When I spot Avery, she’s hanging on the front of Zach’s shirt, pleading with him. Zach is trying to remove her hands and looks very much inconvenienced. Enter another scene.

  “Hey, Avery!” I bust up on them unnoticed. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

  “It’s fine, Laney,” Zach assures me.

  “Yeah, Laney, butt out,” Avery sneers.

  See, now I have a real dilemma. I haven’t had words with Avery and I’ve been nothing but cordial at all the practices I’ve seen her at since she cheated on my friend publicly... And I wasn’t rude just now, I simply asked if I could talk to her. But now, she’s changed things up a bit.

  “Not gonna happen, Ave,” I say. “Now, let’s keep things cool. We have to play ball together, after all. How about you just leave and go have fun somewhere else? That’s all I’m asking, and nicely.” That’s swing two, she only gets three.

  “Avery, why don’t you head out, okay? I can have a car take you anywhere you want to go,” Dane suggests politely from beside me.

  “Oh, Mr. High and Mighty, you can fuck right off. Zach,” she looks up at him, “tell them this is between me and you.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I answer for him, my blood pressure rising to alarming heights. Why’s she attacking Dane? “We’re a Crew. You screw with one of us, you screw with all of us. You had that, but what you did to Zach, well, we don’t take that kind in, so just leave. Now. I’m no longer asking. And watch your fucking mouth when you’re talking to him.” I point at Dane. “He didn’t do shit to you.”

  Dane puts a hand on my arm now, as if to hold me back. It’s funny, I’ve never put my hands on anyone, just talked. My dad had a golden rule of his own: “you best make sure they hit you first. Never start it, always finish it.” So until someone hits me, that’s all we’ll ever do—talk.

  “Zach, please come with me. Don’t choose them over me. I love you, just talk to me,” Avery begs, and we all wait silently. This part is totally Zach’s call.

  “Can you make sure she gets to her car safely?” he turns and asks Sawyer, almost looking sad, but really just seeming over it.

  “No prob.” Saw salutes him. “Let’s go, twin.”

  “I’ll see you,” she jabs her finger in my chest, “on the field.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” I smile, killing her with kindness. Besides, all she can do is hit me with a pitch, and that’s a free base, bitch, so bring it. Otherwise, pitch it and I’ll go yard on your ass all day. You show the hold in your glove, dumbass.

  We watch Avery slap at Sawyer as he walks her and two girls I don’t know out.

  Zach turns to the bar and slaps his hand down on it. “Shots!” he yells, shocking us all.

  Of course, we’re waited on immediately and I get my first intro to something called a Buttery Nipple. Delicious.

  Another one and I’m ready to get busy on the floor. There’s a slow song playing, so I have time to coax the boys out there with me. We make it just in time for “We Going Home” by Drake and I turn my back to Dane and pull his hands around me. My man can move, and our bodies find their rhythm with each other on their own.

  Though I’m usually not much of a dancer, I can definitely see the appeal. A few shots to loosen you up, the right song and the man you trust behind you, and it becomes more an erotic act than dancing.

  “You’re so fucking hot, baby,” he croons in my ear, his hands teasing just under the bottom of my shirt, finding the bare skin of my stomach. “I love you like this, so untamed. You dance like you fuck, smooth and sexy.”

  His words intoxicate me more than the alcohol. I can feel his hard-on pressed again
st my ass as he grinds his hips into me, swirling our lower halves in time to the beat. I throw one hand around his neck, arching my ass out and into him roughly, then really shake it, loving the sound of his groan over the beat.

  “You ready to leave, baby?”

  “No,” I giggle, knowing he’s dying to go, but I may never have the nerve to do this again—I’ve gotta make the night last.

  “Then we need to take a break or I’m gonna give it to ya right here.”

  I turn in his arms now, emboldened, and all of a sudden dying to try out a move I saw in a movie once. I fist his shirt in one hand and drop to the floor, then pull myself slowly back up his body, straddling one of his legs.

  “Fuckkkk,” he moans in my mouth as he grabs me by the back of the neck and kisses the hell out of me. “Enough. We leaving and doing this for real or not?” he pants, begging me with his eyes to pick the former.

  “Dayummm, Gidge, you been hiding your freak!” Sawyer laughs in my ear, now right beside us. “You guys, come on, everybody’s at a table. Whitley wants to do a toast.”

  I have to chuckle when Dane lets out a pouting huff and makes me drag him to join our friends. More shots are waiting when we get there and Whitley raises hers.

  “To old friends,” she taps her glass to Dane, Sawyer and Tate, “to new friends,” now she taps me, Bennett and Zach, “and to forevers.” She clinks with Evan last. “May this year be filled with love, laughs and straight A’s. Cheers!”

  We all join glasses now and down them, though this one not my favorite. Coconut, yuck. “Whitley, truth or dare?” I wipe my mouth and ask, amidst the collective moans of the guys.

  “I’ll go tell em’ last call,” Tate’s already in motion, “something tells me this just became a private party.”

  “Have you ever been this drunk before?” I ask my very inebriated, cute as hell girlfriend, currently chanting “The Roof’s on Fire” as we’re driven to my house.

  “Nope, have you?”

  I only did one shot, no one noticing, so obviously I’m fine but explaining that to her now would be futile. “Come here,” I chuckle and pull on her belt loops. She’s climbing around like a monkey and I think she’s about to go for a sing and spread your arms out the roof moment. “There’s no moon roof in this car, baby,” I try to explain as I pull her down into my lap. “You’re one sexy mess.”

  Tonight was great, though, aside from the one issue early on. After we’d closed the doors and thinned the crowd, Laney really let go finally, Whitley and Bennett happy to follow suit. You’d think with one fight and an appearance by an ex, we’d be out of highlights, but alas, it gets better. The most interesting part of the night had to be the drunken, more risqué than usual game of Truth or Dare, because of which I now know several new exciting facts. For starters, Whitley could easily be a pole dancer if she ever desires. Bennett has a belly button ring of a “T.” Sawyer does a mean worm and has seven piercings, which not only was he not allowed to show, but I refused to try and guess as to their whereabouts. Evan’s actually not a bad singer and can shotgun a beer fastest of the guys. Zach has a very white ass and cannot tie a cherry stem with his tongue to save it. My brother, when forced to judge, gives Laney “best ass” (tell me something I don’t know), Whitley “best tits” and Bennett “best all in one.” Yep, TOD led by drunk girls is super informative. And everyone else is now fully aware that I have some bossy tendencies in the bedroom—Laney’s truth share, not mine. Miss Too Many Shots Blabbermouth got ahead of herself though and spilled the beans about “Pussy Persuasion.” I could go on and on, but I’d rather just figure out a way to self-induce amnesia, except for the last part— I’m on to her now, the little minx.

  Her light snoring grabs my attention and I look down at the beautiful girl now asleep with her head in my lap, body curled into a little ball half on top of me. She’s gonna be a hungover bear tomorrow, but for now, for now she’s a snoring, snuggly angel. That sweet little mouth puckers as she blows out her signature puffs of air, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and her hands wrapped around my waist under my shirt. I brush the hair off her forehead and kiss her there. “I adore you, Laney Walker. I can’t wait to marry you.”

  “Okay,” she purrs, snuggling deeper into my side.

  God, what I’d give for her to say that sober and awake.

  “Sawyer, we’re gonna be late!” I scream through a mouth full of Crunchberries.

  There’s a knock at the front door, interrupting my breakfast. When I open it, I’m met with a sea of blue…roses. I gasp and reach for the vase, uncovering a young delivery boy.

  “Laney Walker?” he asks.

  “That’s me!”

  “Here you go,” he hands me a light blue envelope, “have a nice day.”

  I shut the door and take them to the kitchen counter, inhaling their sweet fragrance. I know who they’re from, but once again, he has floored me—where does one even find a blue rose? And this early in the morning? I open the card, more than anxious to read what it says.

  My Disney,

  I’m sorry I can’t see you off to your first day of sophomore year today. No doubt you look beautiful and will kick butt!

  Blue roses are thought to mean “the impossible” and eleven of any color mean “you are my treasure, that which I love most in my life.” Both are true. You are absolutely the most treasured and loved thing that will ever exist in my world, impossibly so.

  I will see you tonight. Nothing could keep me from it. I’ll want to hear all about your day. And how much you missed and loved me of course.

  Do your thing, baby, XOXO D

  “Gidge, you shouldn’t have.” Sawyer saunters in, grabbing my bowl of cereal. ”How’d you know blue were my favorite?”

  “Lucky guess,” I sigh, still on my cloud. “You ready to go? I don’t want to be late the first day.”

  “Yup.” He turns up the bowl and drinks the milk. “I even made my bed and picked up my room like a good boy.”

  “Very nice.” I pat his chest. “Now have a great day, play nicely with the other kids and I’ll see you at lunch.”

  Sawyer’d moved in, just like he promised, and seems to be a bit more chipper every day. I haven’t asked and he hasn’t shared, but things seem…better. We walk out together, him locking the door behind us, and head down the driveway. “You want a ride?” I ask him, climbing into my truck.

  “Nah, I’ll take the bike. I have a long break in the afternoon, I’ll come home and make dinner. Meatloaf good? It’s my specialty.”

  “That’s sound great, Saw.”

  I can’t wipe the grin off my face as I drive to campus. Dane and I are fantastic. All my friends, including Sawyer, seem on track; happy or happier and healthy. My dad is dating. My mom learned to use the laptop we brought her to Skype with me at least once a week. Hayden’s doing great and Angie’s truly thrilled, chomping at the bit for her grandbabies to come.

  And always, I think of Evan. He may be happiest of all, so wrapped up in Whitley and now living with her, I might add, that the smile he permanently wears is bigger than my own. Whit got her lobster or seahorse or whatever she says, and Evan got his Juliet.

  We’re all just one, big, crazy, loving, extended family…forever entangled in one another’s lives, and pretty damn blessed.

  Life is good.

  EVOLVE SERIES, BOOK 3

  A NOVEL BY

  S.E.HALL

  Copyright 2014, S.E. Hall

  Toski Covey of Toski Covey Photography

  Sommer Stein of Perfect Pear Creative

  Editor: Erin Roth, Wise Owl Editing

  Book Design: Brenda Wright

  All rights reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced in any form, in whole or in part, without written permission from the author.

  This book is intended for mature audiences only.

  —AUTHOR UNKNOWN

  WHERE DO DREAMS COME FROM? No one knows, and that’s what makes them cool; some are random as
fuck, some stem from recent events, but never knowing what you’ll dream each night, how weird or erotic they’ll get, gives you that time with your mind to look forward to.

  When your dream’s the same every night, it becomes a god damn nightmare.

  I know, every single night, what I’m going to see from the time I close my eyes to the moment I drag my sorry ass out of bed in the morning. Without a doubt, I’m going to toss and turn in frustration, a rerun marathon of that night this past summer taunting me.

  This bachelor party, for Parker, who I’ve known maybe eight weeks. God, I’m jealous as hell of him. That Hayden of his fucking adores him, and she’s even hotter knocked up than she was before. And she dotes on his ass in a very independent, non-bloodsucking leech kinda way. Why can’t I find a girl like that?

  Obviously I’ve had too much tequila since I’m hosting my own little titbag party over here, feeling sorry for myself. Fuck this. I hold up two bills in my hand, I think they’re twenties, and Silver Cowboy Boots comes over, way too eagerly.

  Challenge me, dammit! Engage more than my dick! “What’s this get me?” I slur, shoving the bills at her.

  She kicks one ankle, then the other, getting my legs just as far apart as she wants them and climbs over them, onto my lap. “This,” she croons and starts to grind. Her attempt to pet my chest all sexy-like is an epic fail, snagging one way too long silver nail on my nipple ring. She better not rip my fucking shirt—I love this shirt.

  “How much to go in the back?” Two months on a farm is damn lonely.

  She cuts quick, nervous glances around, then leans into my ear. “Not my usual club, so not in here,” she whispers. “But for a hundred, I’ll meet you outside, after.”

  Just when I’m about to finalize the exact details, “Shook Me All Night Long,” my favorite song ever, starts blaring. Now this dance I gotta see, moving Dracula Nails off my lap and outta my view to the stage, aka the flat area in this place.