Devour

by E. K. Blair

  “I know. I just don’t want to talk about it. We’ll be fine. We’ve always been fine.” I plastered a half-hearted grin on my face. “I’m exhausted.”

  “Okay.” Silas regarded me with somber eyes. “If you need anything just holler. I'll come running like the valiant knight in shining armor that I am.”

  “Brandishing your blow dryer?” I giggled.

  “Absolutely.” He grinned before gathering our empty beer bottles. I slid the pizza box into the empty fridge and then flicked off the light before we headed down the hall to our respective bedrooms. Silas paused outside his door.

  “Are you really going to be okay, love?”

  Silas knew I always had trouble sleeping my first few nights in a new place. “Yes,” I whispered. I was never good at lying.

  “Come on.” He wrapped his arm around mine and headed for my bedroom where we curled up together; he held me while I sobbed softly into the cool sheets.

  ***

  “HONEY, I'M HOME!” I heard Drew's voice singing as she opened the front door the following afternoon. Earlier that morning I'd scrubbed out the fridge then had gone to the grocery store to stock up on food and drinks. I'd also bought cheap utensils and dishes and was now arranging the kitchen. Silas had just finished washing the main floor windows and was sweeping when my other best friend arrived.

  I set down the glasses in my hands, skidded to the front door, and wrapped Drew in my arms. It had been months since we'd seen each other and I was beside myself with excitement, knowing we would spend the entire summer together.

  “God, G, I’ve missed you so much.” She held me tightly and we rocked back in forth. Tears sprang to my eyes as I inhaled her familiar perfume.

  “Me too. I'm so glad you came. Your hair is shorter.” I held her at arm’s-length and took in her layered brown bob. “I love it.” Drew was obstinate, opinionated, and self-centered but she, much like Silas, had the ability to set me straight. She told it like it was unapologetically. She and Silas were also the two most hilarious people I’d ever met, so unlike me I couldn’t help but be drawn to them.

  “Drew,” Silas said behind me with a curt nod. I rolled my eyes.

  “Silas.” She rolled her bright blue eyes and then a small smile broke out across her face. For all their bickering I think they really enjoyed each other.

  “Great house, give me a tour?” Drew looped her arm in mine and we headed down the closest hallway.

  “I’ll take you to your room first.” She dropped a bag off in the bedroom I was giving her then we made our way through the rest of the house. At each room we talked paint colors and design schemes.

  Later we made our way back to the kitchen and found Silas making margaritas.

  “It’s a proper girls’ night already,” Drew said as Silas poured the frothy drink into glasses. “Thanks for letting Gavin come, Georgia. I know it’s weird since you haven’t met him, but he’s great. You’ll love him.”

  “Can’t wait to meet him.” I sipped the cold drink.

  “Tristan’s great too, and off the charts hot.” She rested her hip against the counter and took a drink.

  “Who’s Tristan?” I asked.

  “Is he single? How old?” Silas asked.

  “Twenty-seven, single, and straight.” Drew shot Silas a warning look.

  “Perfect and not a problem,” Silas winked at her.

  “Tristan is Gavin's best friend. They’re in business together and working on a project they need to log hours on this summer. Plus he’s going through this thing―so I told him that you wouldn’t mind if he tagged along.”

  “Drew.” I frowned.

  “What kind of thing?” Silas cocked an eyebrow.

  “Lady trouble. He just needs to get away for a while, put his past in the past kind of thing. You’re not mad are you, Georgia?” Drew pouted.

  “Kind of weird that I don’t even know him...”

  “Do you think I would invite a lunatic? Gavin's known him since they were kids.”

  “Technically I don't even know Gavin.” I reminded her. She only rolled her eye in response.

  “He's great. They both are, plus the more muscle we have here this summer the less we’ll have to do.” She shrugged. I heaved an exasperated sigh. That was Drew... living in the moment and getting us into situations we probably shouldn't be in. Maybe it had been a good thing she was ten hours away in Jacksonville the last few years.

  “When are they coming?”

  “Hopefully soon,” Silas said flirtatiously. Drew shot him another dirty look.

  “This weekend. Gavin’s driving and Tristan’s sailing up the coast.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me.

  “He has a boat?” I asked.

  “Oh, that could make for an interesting evening,” Silas said.

  “Straight, Silas.”

  “I know, I know. Has never stopped me in the past though.” He winked at her.

  SOON WE FOUND ourselves seated on the porch sipping margaritas, catching up. It felt good to laugh and reminisce about old times. I'd missed having Drew in my everyday life. While we talked often on the phone, it was a poor substitute for being together in person. Silas was my best friend, and I loved him just like a brother, but it was so good to have girl time. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed that too. Apparently a lot of things had fallen out of my life over time and I hadn't realized it.

  “Shopping tomorrow?” Drew asked.

  “Sounds great. There are some antique stores in town I'd like to hit first.” Drew and I had talked about the overall design of the house and how to maintain the cottage feel with modern updates. First we needed to start with the living room since this is where we'd be all summer. A couch was at the top of my list, as well as overstuffed chairs and end tables and an entertainment center where we could tuck a TV that would still blend with the decor. I also needed to stop at the hardware store for sandpaper and paint to refinish the beautiful wicker set that was left here.

  We continued to drink while the giggling increased as the pitcher of margaritas dwindled.

  “So when will be graced with the presence of Kyle?” Drew rolled her eyes.

  “I know, right?” Silas huffed.

  “Hey.” I shot them a glare.

  “Kyle's a douche, love.” Silas shrugged and took another drink. I whipped my head around to him and narrowed my eyes before a giggle escaped my throat.

  “Total douche.” Drew laughed. “So is he coming down this summer?” She watched me intently.

  “Sure, probably. Don't call my boyfriend a douche.” I stumbled over the last words as a giggle erupted again.

  “Is he mad that you bought this place?” Drew raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Oh yeah.” Silas’ eyes grew wide. “He's pissed. They hardly talk.”

  “Silas.” I whipped a throw pillow at him, causing his drink to splash in his lap.

  “Is he that mad?” Drew asked softly. I chewed on my bottom lip and avoided her gaze.

  “No, he's not mad, he's just not happy.” I shrugged thoughtfully.

  “Do you think he’ll come around?” Drew asked.

  “I don't know,” I said softly.

  “Douche,” Silas mumbled under his breath. All the drinks caught up to me and my mood was suddenly crashing.

  “I don't want to talk about it. I'm going to bed. Be ready bright and early sunshine.” I pointed at Drew.

  I BRUSHED MY teeth before stripping off my jeans and crawled into bed in my tank top and underwear. I nestled into the pillow as my thoughts drifted over the past few years of my life. A few minutes later I heard my door creak open and Drew's form was bathed in the light from the hallway. She closed the door behind her and silently curled up in the bed behind me.

  “Are you okay?” Her voice was heartbreakingly sad.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Doesn't sound like it,” she said.

  “I am.” I hugged my pillow tighter.

  “Do you want to talk about it
?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.” She nuzzled deeper into the pillow we were sharing.

  “I'm sorry I haven’t been around, Georgia.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath and closed my eyes as tears stung behind my eyelids. “I know.” I took another deep breath and tried to swallow the painful lump in my throat.

  ***

  THE NEXT MORNING I dragged Drew out of bed at ten and the three of us headed to town for shopping. We picked up coffee then wandered the streets, in and out of antique stores and boutiques. Our first purchase was a love-at-first-sight large cream couch. We came across some eggshell blue and cream striped chairs that complemented it. With the big items out of the way we focused on smaller decorative things. Silas spotted a weathered wrought iron and glass side table and I found a beautiful vintage mirrored lamp to place on top of it. My vision for perfect modern cottage chic was coming together.

  With bright sunshine and a cool breeze, I breathed deeply and thought at this moment, I was the happiest I'd ever been; life was simple as I strolled around a small seaside town with my two best friends. Tears pricked my eyes, thankful for both of them.

  After lunch we went to the hardware store to get paint samples. Silas and Drew went a little wild, bickering and stuffing dozens of colorful paint chips into my oversized purse. Kyle and I had moved into a beautiful furnished apartment in D.C. where not a single thing needed to be done, so I was embracing starting from scratch with the beach house.

  We headed home mid-afternoon to meet the furniture delivery truck. They hauled the old couch away and brought the new furniture into the living room along with the oversized plasma TV Silas had insisted I get. Once the furniture was in, Silas, Drew and I spent time debating the placement of the smaller items. I cracked beers for the three of us and giggled as I watched them argue over everything. This summer would be an exercise in patience between the two of them.

  The Mourning After is available now at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and iTunes.

  Evolve Series, Book 1

  A novel by

  S.E.Hall

  Copyright 2013, 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.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue—Lil Laney

  Chapter 1—8 Years Later—Laney

  Chapter 2—Socialism—Laney

  Chapter 3—Eye Opener—Laney

  Chapter 4—Hit or Miss—Evan

  Chapter 5—Bedfellows—Laney

  Chapter 6—Amazed—Laney

  Chapter 7—Three Little Words—Evan

  Chapter 8—Let’s Get Real—Laney

  Chapter 9—Speechless—Evan

  Chapter 10—Backburner—Laney

  Chapter 11—Exploration—Laney

  Chapter 12—Savor—Evan

  Chapter 13—Distance—Laney

  Chapter 14—Gotta Crawl Before You Walk—Laney

  Chapter 15—A Picture’s Worth A Thousand Words— Laney

  Chapter 16—Nightmare—Evan

  Chapter 17—Home Bittersweet Home—Laney

  Chapter 18—Remedy—Evan

  Chapter 19—Double-Edged Sword—Laney

  Chapter 20—Kickin’ It—Laney

  Chapter 21—Laney Day—Laney

  Chapter 22—Out in the Cold—Laney

  Chapter 23—Exposed—Laney

  Chapter 24—Window—Dane

  Chapter 25—Bring It Pong—Laney

  Chapter 26—Keep Your Friends Close, And...—Evan

  Chapter 27-—Kissable—Laney

  Chapter 28—Birthday Girl—Laney

  Chapter 29—When You Wish Upon A...—Laney

  Chapter 30-—Ultimatums—Laney

  Chapter 31—Confessions—Laney

  Chapter 32—Calling Card—Evan

  Chapter 33—Tit for Tat—Laney

  Chapter 34—All In—Dane

  Chapter 35—Daddy’s Girl—Laney

  Chapter 36—Wreckage—Laney

  Chapter 37—Playlist—Laney

  Chapter 38—Mine—Dane

  Chapter 39—Dizzy—Laney

  Chapter 40—Gifted—Laney

  Chapter 41—Caretaker—Evan

  Sneak Peek

  Acknowledgements

  Playlist

  Prologue

  Lil Laney

  I simply cannot hang out with the girls at recess. No one should expect me to, right? At the ripe old age of 10, I’ve already figured out one should be interested in far more than boys and gossip; the only two things they ever seemed to talk about. Besides, they don’t want anything to do with me anymore. Michelle, the loud one, has made it clear that her mother thinks “it’s a shame I have no female influence,” so surely my dad will completely understand the call from Principal Mills...again.

  Principal Mills doesn’t really ever get mad at me. He’s a lot like my dad, easygoing and a bit of a softie, so it’s easy to sit with him in his small, cramped office until Dad gets here. I’m not too concerned about getting in trouble; I never get in any real trouble. I’ve heard them talk many times after sending me out to the hall. They think I’m “angry and acting out.”

  They’re wrong.

  I’m not angry and I don’t need their pity. They should pity her. She’s the one who gave up. Well, she gave us up, anyway. Who knows what her greener grass was exactly.

  Soon enough my dad strides in, casual as always, and all too comfortably takes a seat. He’s here at least once a month, after all. They shake hands like they’re poker buddies or something. I’m not even sure Dad calls him Principal Mills, or even Mr. Mills, anymore. I think he just calls him Paul. They talk for the first ten minutes about this year’s high school hopefuls. This town lives for high school football and baseball, depending on the season. Hopefully they forget my dilemma altogether.

  No such luck.

  “Wanna tell me what happened, slugger?”

  I put on my best puppy dog face, “Daddy, ‘member what you said about not starting a fight, but I could damn sure finish one?”

  The fine Principal tries to hide a chuckle and my dad reminds me to watch my mouth.

  “Well...Andy Collins shoved me first, cause he’s a sore loser, so...I finished it. I whooped him in Horse and then I whooped him for shoving me.” That should clear all this up, right?

  “Now, Laney, one shove only warrants one shove back. If I got a call, you musta tore the boy up. Why didn’t you just go tell a teacher?”

  Is he serious right now? I’m not a snitch.

  “Daddy, please. I didn’t tear him up that bad...I didn’t have to.”

  “And why is that?” He cocks one eyebrow curiously.

  Principal Mills answers for me. “Cause Evan Allen did it for her.”

  It didn’t take long to find Mr. Allen. Turns out the Allen family had recently moved in right down the street. Dad wanted to let the man know that he thought what his son had done was noble and sure hoped Evan wasn’t in any trouble. Confirming he wasn’t, it’d only seemed right to invite the boy fishing with us.

  At least, that’s how Dad explains it to me. It doesn’t stop me from pouting the whole ride to the pond and trying to ignore the intruder in the back seat with me.

  “Thanks for inviting me, Mr. Walker. I love fishing.” Sure he does; what a butt kisser.

  “My pleasure, Evan, we’re happy to have ya’ along.

  Aren’t we, Laney? “

  “Of course, Daddy.” I smile sweetly before continuing. “Say, Evan, you know how to bait your own hook, right?” What? I’m genuinely concerned. I don’t want to end up doing everything for the kid.

  Evan just looks at me from the cor
ner of his eye, not answering.

  “Dad, did you bring him a life jacket? We wouldn’t want him to fall in and drown if he hooks a big one.”

  Dad doesn’t answer me, either. They both look uncomfortable; I’m not the least bit perturbed. There’s more where that came from, boys! I can do this all day and it’s well-deserved, as far as I’m concerned. How dare Dad invite this boy into our time together? My time with Dad is sacred. We don’t need company.

  “Hey, Evan...” I drawl, kicking the smartass act up a notch as we climb out of the truck and grab our gear, “don’t get used to this. One rescue, one trip. Got it?”

  Dad acts like he doesn’t hear me and walks ahead to the water. He thinks his new little hero can hold his own with me. We’ll see.

  “Rescue, huh? That’s what you think that was?”

  So... Evan can answer. “Whatever, you know what I mean. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. My dad and I are just fine without them. I don’t need new friends any more than I needed saving. I can take care of myself just fine.”

  “Oh, I could see that, tiger. That’s not why I did it.”

  Tiger? Could he not remember my name? Typical boy. “Why did you then?”

  He thinks for a minute, kicking the dirt with his toe, and then shrugs. “I’ll let you know as soon as I figure it out.”

  I never heard what he came up with. Turns out, we had plenty of other things to talk about.

  Chapter One

  8 Years Later

  Laney

  Walker, you’re up!” Coach Logson yells at me.

  Here we go again, hero or zero time. Since it’s my senior year, and I’ve played softball since I can remember, I ought to be used to the pressure, but those familiar butterflies in my stomach start to stir.

  Coming off the bench cold in the last inning sucks. It can only lead to disaster or heroism, often making DH the worst position on the team. So, armed with my fifty- fifty chance, I grab my helmet and bat and approach the warm-up circle.

  Taking my practice swings, timing with the pitcher, I really should be too focused to hear my father’s voice above the crowd and my own thoughts.