by K J Bell
“When do I ever have girl trouble?” I ask indignantly.
Tug laughs. “Drop the act, okay? Being the unsupervised and unnoticed third child, I know more than anyone around here.”
I grab my head, wondering why everyone is so damn loud this morning, then shrug off his comment and tell him half the truth. “I drank too much last night, and now I’m paying for it.”
“Drank too much because you’re living under the same roof as the one girl who just might make you feel something?” Tug deadpans.
“What the fuck, Tug. When did you turn into my therapist?” I try joking to end the conversation.
I’m not successful because my little brother is a pest. “I heard you and Jesse after Jake’s graduation party. You were slurring your words, but you professed your undying love for her. It was the first time I ever remember thinking you were a wuss.”
“Watch it, Tug. I can still whip your scrawny ass,” I threaten, although in my current state, if he pushes it that may not be true.
“I’m right, then.” His expression is clearly gloating. “What happened?”
He’s persistent, I’ll give him that. Maybe he should be the one in law school. My head hurts too goddamn bad to argue. “Tori just gets to me in a way no girl ever has. I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“I know what you mean,” he agrees. “Have you told her?”
His question raises all the hairs on my neck. “Hell, no! And you better keep your big mouth shut. I mean it. I’ll just screw it up anyway. She doesn’t need that.”
His hands grip the top of the backrest, and he leans back, looking at me with a befuddled expression. “That doesn’t sound like you. You usually work your ass off until you get what you want. I’m the slacker in the family.”
Tug’s not a slacker at all. He’s straight-As smart and even skipped a grade or two. Our father calls him a slacker because he’s uninterested in team sports. I’ve always admired Tug for standing up to our father. It’s more than I can do. I like football, but I played for our dad. My injury was an unexpected blessing.
Tug holds his hand to his chest, making a motion like he’s pumping his heart. “Does she make you feel all funny inside?”
“Oh, you’re hilarious, dumbass.” If my head wasn’t pounding, I’d pummel him.
He throws his hands up, preparing for me to do just that. “Just trying to lighten the mood, bro.”
“You’ve succeeded, but you’re still a dumbass.”
“Aw, that hurts, Brady.”
I shake my head. He’s truly hopeless. Obviously a change of subject is in order. “Jesse and I are taking the skis out. You want to come with us?”
He jumps up out of the chair and smacks me on the shoulder. “Do you even have to ask?”
“I’m leaving at 12:30. If you’re in the truck, you can come.”
Chapter 8
Tori
As we round the corner to Liv’s house, Brady’s in the driveway, hitching a trailer with two jet skis on it to his truck. He walks into the garage, and begins searching through the red standing tool box. Once we pull in the driveway and park, I gawk at him. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of blue low-riding board shorts. His abs are sculpted to perfection, as though an artist spent hours carving and defining them. I immediately notice three tattoos. When did he get those? There’s one on his left arm, another on his right side, and one scrolled across his chest. I’d say I’m surprised, but Brady’s always had a desire for things his parents consider to be outside the social norm.
My eyes follow the V-shape from above his hips to the waistband of his shorts. For the briefest of seconds I let myself wonder what he looks like without the shorts. Holy shit! Get your head out of the goddamn gutter, Victoria!
Liv pushes me in the arm. “Close your mouth, Tor. You’re gonna catch flies.”
“What?” I blink away the totally X-rated vision of Brady I was having and look at her innocently.
“Don’t ‘what’ me,” she snarls.
“What?… As in…what can I say? He’s pretty freaking nice to look at, even if he’s a complete ass.” She ews, shaking her head. “When did he get those tats?”
Liv pulls her keys from the ignition, dropping them in her purse. “Recently. My mother nearly had a heart attack.” She opens her door, and I laugh. I bet her mother did have a fit. Then again, Brady’s always pushed her buttons. I remember her lecturing him numerous times about trying harder to fit in, not that he ever listened.
I step out of Liv’s car, glance at Brady one more time, and swallow the lump in my throat. I expect to be upset, but the more I think about how hurt he looked last night, the harder it is for me to stay angry. Whatever happened to Brady, he has to be handled delicately, like a rose – too close to the bud and he’ll wilt, but grab onto the stem and he’ll hurt you.
I’m cowering behind Liv as we walk into the garage. His eyes are on me but I can’t bring myself to look at him. Even if my anger has subsided, I’m still mortified by what happened last night.
Liv strolls over to him and gives him a hug. “Hey, bro, you heading out to the bay today?”
“Yeah, I’m going to pick up Jesse in a bit.”
His gaze burns into me and I keep my eyes glued to my feet.
“That’s cool. Since you didn’t come home last night, I guess you went home with that girl from the bar.”
Damn! Her insinuation punches me again. Like a horror film I can’t turn away from, the memory of Brady and “little miss blow you anywhere” flashes into my mind.
"No Liv, I didn't. She got a little clingy and I had to drop her. I stayed at Jesse's place last night."
As I glance up at him, his eyes meet mine, and I look down again quickly. This is getting ridiculous. I hear the smirk in his voice as he continues, “She’s not the right girl for me.”
When I chance another look up, he’s smiling at me suggestively. What the hell? Can you say “Jekyll and fucking Hyde”?
I’m not sure if it’s anger or desire making my skin burn. Either way, the sensation is increasing my irritation. A warm Santa Ana wind rolls through the garage, blowing his slightly overgrown bangs away from his eyes. I sigh.
“What are you two doing today?” he asks Liv.
Just then Liv’s phone vibrates, and her fingers dig into her purse, searching for it. “We don’t have any set plans now that we found jobs.”
Brady looks astonished. “You got a job?”
Her head snaps up to glare at him. “Yes. Why does that surprise everyone?”
Brady and I laugh at the same time, and our eyes meet again. I instantly angle my glance over his shoulder.
Liv looks annoyed but continues searching for her phone. “We just got hired at Ocean Bean, and we start tomorrow. It’s only for the summer. I was against the idea at first, but then I figured out it’s money I can spend without a lecture from Mom.” She gives up on finding her phone and slings her purse back over her shoulder.
Brady nods and smiles. “Anything to avoid Mom. Hey, if you want to come by the beach later to ride, you’re welcome to. You too, Tor. We’ll be there until seven. If you decide to come, just text me and I’ll tell you where to find us.”
“Thanks, we might. I think Tor is still nursing a hangover, so we’ll have to see how she’s doing later.” Liv laughs and I shrug in embarrassment as I’m reminded of last night and exactly why I drank so much.
“Good. Maybe I’ll see you there.” Brady’s voice is tentative. No chance in hell he’ll see us there. If Liv knows what’s good for her, she won’t even ask.
Liv starts up the four steps that lead into the house. I hang my head, ignoring Brady’s intense stare and turn to follow her.
“Tori.” His smooth voice calls out my name, sending a chill through my entire body. Guh! Seconds from a clean getaway. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
I can’t very well tell him to get lost with Liv here, so I step back down the creaky stairs into the garage. Liv keeps go
ing and closes the door once she’s through it. I can’t believe my nosy best friend picks this moment to mind her own business.
I look right at Brady, cross my arms over my chest, and tap my foot anxiously. There is plenty in this garage I could be looking at – for example, bicycles, tools, and old skates that haven’t been worn in many years. But no, I fix my eyes right to Brady’s and beg my emotions to stay in check.
Eyes on mine, he walks right up to me, so close a piece of paper would barely fit between us. What the hell? My next breath leaves my mouth in an angry huff, and I take a step back. When I do, my flip-flop catches and slips off my foot, which increases my frustration. I shove my foot back into my flip-flop, and grumble under my breath about what an asshole he is. He laughs and steps back, increasing the space between us.
Making a circle in front of me with my hand, I say, “Don’t you know it’s rude to invade someone’s personal fucking space bubble?”
His smile is lit up by a ray of sunlight filtering through the open garage doors, like a spotlight, showcasing his smugness. He’s not the slightest bit deterred by my outburst. That sparks my anger even more, and I try to stay calm. If he even breathes wrong, I’m going to snap.
“Don’t you know a foul mouth is not an attractive quality in a girl?”
Vision blurring and skin on fire, I tense, clenching my fists at my side until my nails dig into my palms. “Good thing I don’t give a shit if you think I’m attractive, Brady.”
“You sure about that, Tor?”
Goddammit!
I suck in air through my nose, trying desperately to control my rage before Liv or Tug hears us. “You’re an arrogant asshole!”
“You’re right.” His over-confident grin is maddening.
Why can’t he just leave me alone? My shoulders slump and I flash him an annoyed smile. Given the whopper of a hangover I’m experiencing, I don’t have the energy to deal with him. “What do you want, Brady?”
He steps into my space again and his thumb pulls on my lip, releasing it from my teeth. I hadn’t noticed how hard I was biting down, and I taste blood. A thoughtful smile tugs on the corner of his mouth.
“I want you to be happy and not feel like you have to look away every time our eyes meet, like they have for the last ten minutes. I want to be able to walk into a room without seeing your face fall, and mostly, I want to apologize.”
I’m shocked, literally stunned speechless. He pulls something from his pocket, and I crack a smile when he holds up a tissue. I knew he’d eventually give me crap about it. Like a tiny white flag of surrender, he waves it in front of him, and he’s written I’m sorry on it. Huh. Brady Hunter is apologizing.
I rip it from his hand, and laugh softly. “You’re not gonna let me live that one down, are you?”
“You attacked me with a tissue. I’m probably going to laugh about that one for quite some time.”
“Brady, I…” My words catch, and I’m lost in his intense green eyes. They stare right into mine and I want to look away, but I don’t. His irises have these intriguing flecks of gold and brown in them. They’re mesmerizing, but they’re making me extremely uncomfortable. His hand slides up under my jaw, stopping at the curve under my ear. He licks his lips. My breath comes fast, and heat pulses against my sex. Please don’t kiss me. Please don’t kiss me. Oh, fuck it! Please kiss me.
He doesn’t kiss me, and my body instantly deflates, disappointed by his rejection. “I’m sorry. That was a dick move I pulled last night, and you didn’t deserve that.”
Anger returning, I smack his hand away and glare at him. “What the hell, Brady? Up, down, up, down,” My hand moves up and down with my words. “You know, they have medication for people like you.”
Brady throws his head back and laughs. It’s contagious, and I just can’t help myself – I laugh too.
Shooting me a crooked smile, he says, “I don’t think medication can help me. But thanks for the honest suggestion.”
I should leave, but I’m stupid and curious, so I stay. “What’s going on with you, Brady?”
Brady’s smile disappears, and his body language tenses. He clears his throat, and I wait patiently for his response. “I just have a lot of things I’m dealing with right now.”
I let out an irritated breath, swallow, and bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from telling him where to shove it. I wish he’d just be direct. I don’t speak evasive babble. “Vague much, Brady? Come on, what kind of things?”
Silence lingers between us until I decide to back down, uninterested in playing the guessing game with Brady, or any games, for that matter. Just as my flip-flop presses into the second stair, he speaks again. “My life’s complicated right now. It’s nothing I want you to worry about.”
Twisting my head to look at him, I decide to probe, ignoring his concern about my worrying. “Complicated how?”
“Please don’t leave.” His face is dreadfully sad, and there’s a struggle behind his pleading eyes. I step down from the stairs and look at him.
He turns, combing his fingers through his hair. “Complicated…as in a complete fucking mess. With school, and dealing with my parents and all of their bullshit. I don’t want my issues to interfere with our friendship.”
His answer surprises me. What friendship? “You sail through school. And your parents? Come on, Brady, your parents are great. Compared to mine, they’re perfect.”
His jaw tightens instantly, and the vein in his temple pops out. His Adam’s apple flexes when he swallows. “Perfect? Is anyone ever perfect, Tori? My mom is a self-absorbed bitch and my father is a spineless bastard!”
His reaction shocks me. What is he talking about? And why is he so pissed? Brady’s never had the best relationship with his parents, but I’ve never heard him talk about them so bitterly, so full of malice. “Come on, Brady. Your parents are hard on you, but they have your best interests at heart.”
His jaw shifts and locks tight. His eyes are dark, and his body’s stiff. When he relaxes, his shoulders fall and a small smile touches his lips. “You’re sweet, Tor. You love my folks, but you see what you want to see. My family is far from perfect. We have secrets like every other family. You grew up watching my mom being PTA president and baking cookies. That doesn’t mean we aren’t screwed up. It means we pretend better than most families. When it comes to painting a picture of what we should look like, my parents are perfect at that.”
I honestly can’t understand what he’s saying. I’ve known the Hunters my entire life and I can’t imagine what possible secrets they could have. “What do you mean, Brady? That doesn’t make any sense. Can you be more specific? I’m not a child anymore. You can talk to me about this. ”
Brady grins, and his eyes glance at my chest. “No, Tori, you’re clearly not a child. But like I said, it’s nothing I want you to worry about, and I don’t want to discuss the reasons.”
As he turns away, his hands lock above his head. Watching the muscles in his back flex and move, all I can think about is the naughty things I want him to do to me. Good God, what is wrong with me?
He drops his hands and spins back to me, his expression gravely serious. “Tori, please don’t say anything to my sister or Tug. I don’t want to upset them.”
I offer him a reassuring smile. “I would never betray your trust, even with Liv. But you should talk to someone, and I’m a pretty good listener.”
His eyes lift at the corners. Aw…there it is. His panty-dropping grin returns. I hate that goddamn grin. All right, I’m a terrible liar. I love that grin. “Nah, I gotta work this shit out on my own. But thank you for offering.”
The minor irritation festering under my skin is enough to make me want to go. But God help me if I don’t see something helpless and troubled behind his eyes – emotions that draw me to him with irrefutable force. “Why tell me anything, then, Brady?”
“I wanted to apologize because I hurt you, and I meant what I said last night. I never want to hurt you. I lost co
ntrol last night because I want you so fucking bad it’s killing me, but I can’t. It’s not a good idea for you to get involved with me. I’ll only end up hurting you, again.”
Peering up at him from under my eyelashes, I use his words from last night. “Because you’re fucked up?”
His mouth opens in surprise and he laughs. As he presses his lips together, his face turns serious again. “Yes, and I’m also bitter and jaded. The last year I’ve been through some seriously fucked up shit. There are things you don’t know about, and you’re not going to. You’re too good for me, Tori.”
Tasting his words on my lips, I shake my head. Brady is physically every woman’s fantasy. He’s from an affluent family and on his way to becoming a successful lawyer. How on earth can I be too good for him? An ordinary girl from a struggling middle-class family, working as a barista, with okay grades from an average state college. He’s obviously as messed up as he claims. I wish he’d tell me what he’s been through. I want to help him.
I realize Brady’s offering an apology, and decide to accept it, offer him something in return. “It’s not your fault.” As his smile grows, I elaborate. “I mean me and Jake breaking up. I did blame you, but you were right last night. He’s always been a cheater.”
He lets out a harsh breath. “He’s an idiot, too. If I had a girl like you, I’d never risk losing her.”
Relax, I tell myself. He said “a girl like you,” not you. “You know, Brady. Why don’t we…start over? You’re here all summer, and we live in the same house. How about we try being friends again?”
His eyes are bright, like I’ve made him happy. “I’d like that.”
“Good, all settled, then. Friends it is.” I smile and extend my hand to him. “My name is Tori Preston. It’s very nice to me you.”
Dazzling smile still in place, he takes my hand, giving me the same introduction. His hand is warm and somewhat sweaty. Is he as nervous as I am? I don’t know for sure , but his eyes are different, longing almost. I’m instantly aware my legs may no longer have the ability to hold me up. They’re suddenly as steady as straws filled with Jell-O, and equally as useless. I yank my hand away in case I need it for support. My nipples pebble under the thin fabric of my tight cotton tank. I cross my arms over my chest to shield my stimulation, and pray he doesn’t see. Brady quirks a brow and laughs ever so softly. His smile carves even deeper. He definitely notices what I’m hiding under my arms.