Forget You

by Jennifer Snyder

  A set of ocean-colored eyes flashed behind my eyelids.

  Images of the girl they belonged to rippled through my mind, causing Ryker to leave my thoughts again, and my internal organs to constrict for a whole new reason. Somehow this girl—this woman—was able to make me forget.

  My hands loosened their grip on the wheel. It had been three months since Ryker’s death, and not once had I climbed behind the wheel of his car and not thought about him.

  Until she came along.

  A replay of our stare down while I finished my run with the guys played through my head. Next came her sarcastic smirk as she nearly ran me over for a second time with her vehicle. A slight chuckle bellowed from deep inside my chest, and a single thought flickered through my mind—I had to know this girl.

  I had to.

  My cell chirped in the front pocket on my duffle bag. I ran my hands over my face, trying to gather myself and shake the weird sensation coursing through my veins, before I moved to answer it. Letting out a deep sigh seemed to help, but not much. My phone continued to pierce the silence in the car until I reached for it, and slid my thumb across the screen to answer it.

  “Hello?” I hadn’t looked to see who was calling, just simply placed the phone to my ear. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done that.

  Since Ryker’s death, I always looked. In the beginning, it was because there was a piece of me that hoped him being gone was a lie, and that each time my phone rang it would be him on the other line, waiting for me to answer so he could say “got you” and this nightmare would be over.

  “Sawyer. Hey, buddy, you still coming tonight?” Wes’s voice boomed into my ear.

  I grinned at the sound of his voice. “It’s a party for me, right?”

  “Hell yeah, it is… It’s not every day a Keeton graduates from fucking boot camp.”

  Boot camp. I guess that was one thing to call it. I’d completed basic training, which in actuality was boot camp, weeks ago. Advanced Individual Training for my Military Occupational Specialty was more along the lines of school, but no matter how many times I explained this to Wes, he just didn’t get it. To him, I’d done the unthinkable—I’d joined the military.

  I chuckled at his enthusiasm. “That’s the truth. Most of them just continue to be low lives without any life ambitions.”

  “Hey now, I’m not a low life, and I have ambitions,” he muttered. There wasn’t a trace of hostility in his voice. Being a light-hearted joker ran in the Keeton blood as well.

  “Name two,” I countered, grinning like a fool while I waited to hear his answers.

  “To throw my little cousin the best damn graduation, or whatever the hell you want to call it, party imaginable, and to see if I can get in this Mindy chick’s pants tonight.”

  I shook my head, and smirked at the phone. “Point proven.”

  At twenty-four, Wes was only a year older than me, but from the way he acted, you couldn’t tell. He was the type they made movies about, like the Van Wilder type who could write on his tax occupation line “Professional College Student.” He’d been in school since he was five, only taking breaks when allotted by the board of education. It wasn’t that he enjoyed homework and learning; he enjoyed the continuous supply of girls, and the promise of a thriving social life one could only find while in school.

  Wes was one of those people you meet in life who you know will never grow up, because behaving young is what makes them who they are.

  “What the fuck ever, man,” Wes said. He wasn’t annoyed, but he sure was pretending to be. “It will be better than the family thing on Sunday…way better.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt.” I chuckled.

  It wasn’t everyday a Keeton joined the military or completed training. This was grounds for a Keeton throw down; something our family prided itself on. If there was one thing any Keeton was born knowing how to do straight out of the womb, it was throw a party. The only issue was, the older the Keeton throwing the party, the duller the younger ones were sure to deem it.

  “So, I need you to pick up the keg from the store on your way over.”

  “What? This is supposed to be my party, but I still have to buy my own alcohol? That’s screwed up,” I insisted.

  “No. It’s not like that. It’s already paid for. I just need you to get it here. Zac was going to pick it up, but something came up last minute and he can’t get it here on time.”

  That was another thing about Wes. Not only was he a professional college student, but he also didn’t own a car. His outlook on it wasit saved him money and stress not owning one. He was perfectly fine bumming rides from every person he knew for the rest of his life.

  Sometimes I wondered what he would do when the financial aid department caught on to the fact he was a lifetime student, and forced him to move the fuck on. Would he get a car then, or an actual job? I doubted he’d be able to put any of his nearly completed degrees to use anywhere. In fact, I sort of assumed he’d either move back into his parents’ basement or become a professional couch surfer if that ever happened.

  I’d seen the Taboo episode on the National Geographic Channel about couch surfing once, and instantly had thought of Wes. They were sort of like nomads, moving from friend to friend’s house, content to sleep on their couch instead of having a place to call their own.

  “Where’s it at?” I asked, tapping my thumb against the steering wheel. “I’ll swing by and pick it up now, then drop it off at your place on my way home to shower.”

  “It’s down at Cheap Booze,” Wes said. “Thanks, man.”

  I hated that place. It was a freaking hole in the wall with crusted tiled floors and the dirtiest walls I’d ever seen in an actual establishment. The place was as ghetto as it got in Norhurst, but it was where all the college kids flocked to for what it advertised—cheap booze.

  “No problem. See you in a few.” I hung up after hearing a mumbled response from him.

  After tossing my cell into the passenger seat, I cranked the engine. The rumble of it vibrated through my chest like always, and I smiled. It reminded me of all the work my brother and I had done to get this baby purring like that.

  Shifting into reverse, I eased out of the parking space I’d been occupying and headed toward the Gareth Park exit. Once I hit the highway, I gassed it and shifted gears as quickly as I could to gain speed. Hearing the roar of the engine, and seeing everything rush past me in a blur, was just as good as sex. Adrenaline licked away at my insides, forcing a smile onto my face. My heart pumped wildly in my chest, and my muscles tensed as I weaved through the slight amount of traffic, avoiding a collision. My mother would be pissed at me for driving so recklessly, my father too, but these small moments were what I lived for now that Ryker was gone.

  These were the moments when I felt most alive again, the moments when I missed Ryker just a little less.

  Pushing the gas all the way to the floorboard, I glanced around, searching for any state troopers who might be lurking alongside the highway somewhere. I didn’t see any. I never did. We had them in Norhurst, but they were never around when I set myself free on the asphalt. Even if they were, I’d bet they couldn’t catch me.

  * * * *

  I pulled up to Wes’s frat house, and made my own parking space in the front yard. His fraternity brothers wouldn’t like it. In fact, they’d probably ask me to move as soon as they realized it was dead center in their yard. I would, if they gave me their spot. There was no way I was parking a mile and a half away, and then walking to a party being thrown in my honor.

  The same music that played at every party of Wes’s flowed through the cool night air to my ears—old school rap. Trick Daddy’s thuggishly low voice bounced off the walls of the cramped house as the bass vibrated through the air. A group of three girls, who were obviously already wasted, bumped and grinded against each other to the music. My eyes scanned the faces surrounding them, knowing, where there were drunk girls dancing like hoes, Wes was sure to be close by.
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br />   I spotted him—just as I thought I would—watching them. He stood off to the side with his arms folded over his chest and a goofy ass grin stretched across his face.

  When I broke through the crowd around the two girls, which seemed to be growing by the second as their slutty, drunken show progressed into something I’d seen on numerous Girls Gone Wild movies growing up, Wes spotted me.

  “And here he is, everyone!” Wes shouted to the entire room. His devilish grin from undressing the ladies dancing melted from his face, and was replaced with one I’d seen every time anyone mentioned the National Guard and me—his proud smile. “My little cousin, the fucking boot camp graduate, Sawyer Keeton! Show him some love, fuckers. You’re all here in honor of him!”

  Eruptions of applause and whistles burst through the room loud enough to rupture someone’s eardrum. Smiling from ear-to-ear, I nodded at everyone. This moment was good, but I still wished Ryker could be here for it. The song blasting through the speakers haphazardly hung from the four corners of the room changed to Lil Wayne’s Lollipop. The girls in the center of the room migrated my way, and began bumping and grinding against me while singing the words to the song. My thoughts of Ryker drifted from my mind, because I knew that no matter what, he’d want me to enjoy this moment to the fullest.

  The blonde leaned in, and flicked her tongue against the outer rim of my ear while dropping her hand to my junk. My pulse jumped to my throat from the unexpected motion, and I arched an eyebrow at Wes.

  “Enjoy the fuck out of this night.” He grinned like a Cheshire cat. “You deserve it.”

  The blonde continued in her uninvited kneading of my crotch as her friend brushed parts of her body against me, I was sure she’d be embarrassed about in the morning. I wasn’t either girls’ conscience, and I wasn’t about to stop them from doing what they wanted with me. After all, don’t they say men only have two emotions: hungry and horny? If you see a man without an erection, make him a sandwich. No one would have trouble deciding on which of those two things I was.

  The blonde released me and shifted so she could rub her ass against the monster she’d awoken in my jeans, and that was when I saw her—the girl with the ocean-colored eyes, and the cynical smile from the park. The one who’d consumed my mind so profoundly, who’d forced thoughts of my brother away for the first time in months.

  She was leaning against the back wall with a drink in her hand and an I-don’t-want-to-be-here gleam in her eyes. There was a cute, petite blonde standing beside her, talking with Wes. From the perky tits and tiny frame, I knew the blonde had to be Mindy—the girl Wes was viewing as his conquest for the night. What were the chances of his conquest bringing mine along with her? About as good as winning the lottery, I’d say, which was exactly how I felt the second I saw pretty eyes standing there with that beyond bored look sharpening her features.

  CHAPTER THREE

  EVA

  I counted all the assholes in the room, and decided in an instant the ratio of nice guys to jerks wasn’t in my favor tonight. To say I was ready to leave would be a drastic understatement. If I had come to this shindig alone, then I would have already been out the door and driving away. But I hadn’t. I’d come with Mindy, and I’d sort of promised myself I would at least try to have fun. Sloshing around the sangria mix in my red plastic cup, I prayed fun rested at the bottom of glass number two, because number one had been nothing but a tease.

  “I’m going to get a refill.” I elbowed Mindy in the side. “You need one?”

  She turned to look directly at me. Lust was sparkling in her eyes, and I knew right away this girl was the type who fell fast for someone—like a brick tossed off the side of a building. I glanced at Wes, and wondered what it was she saw in him—besides his perfectly white smile and chiseled features. Scratch that, I knew what she saw when she looked at him—sex on a stick—but then he opened his mouth and everything went downhill. At least for me it did. For Mindy, however, she was smitten. I hadn’t heard their conversation, but I was sure Wes wasn’t a Romeo, and a Romeo was all I was looking for lately.

  Wes trailed the tip of his index finger along Mindy’s collarbone, and she turned to face him again. I couldn’t hear everything he spewed in her ear, but knew it had been something about wishing she would come upstairs with him so he could show her everything he’d been thinking about doing to her since first seeing her tonight.

  My cheeks heated as the snips of conversation I’d heard spiked my already on edge libido. Damn you love gods, when are you going to help me out with this thing called sexual frustration?

  “Hey there, pretty eyes.” The voice slipped over me in a silky way, and I instantly spun to see who was behind me. I hoped that it was someone sent directly from the love gods.

  Looking up, I locked eyes with Soldier Boy from the park. “Son of a bitch.”

  Really, love gods? Really?

  Soldier Boy’s lips twisted into an incredibly sexy smile at my outburst. “You know, my mother never saw the irony in calling me that.”

  I laughed. A look of complete shock plastered on Soldier Boy’s face at the sound. Why the hell was I laughing at him? Laughing at something he’d said constituted as flirting in the guy code dictionary.

  “Pretty funny, Soldier Boy,” I commended him. Maybe he would leave it at that, and not consider my laugh as an invitation to inflate his ego and flirt relentlessly with me for the remainder of the night.

  He cocked his head to the side. “You liked that, huh?”

  And there it was, the cockiness I’d been waiting on. Love gods, you suck tonight.

  “And that was the only thing I liked.” I moved past him, hoping he’d take the hint. “Excuse me. I need a refill.”

  I didn’t have to look behind me to see if he’d followed. I could feel that he had. It was as though he had this massive presence mine enjoyed latching onto, that it desired to be fused with, because I could feel him all around me.

  “What’s your name?” he asked. He was closer than I thought, his breath practically brushed against my ear when he spoke.

  I pretended not to hear him. It may have been a simple question, but I still didn’t care to answer. He didn’t need to know my name, because I wasn’t interested. Once I reached the kitchen counter, I picked up the ladle lying beside a large bowl, and dipped it in for another glass of sangria.

  “Not going to tell me your name?” He leaned against the counter, and grazed his eyes over every inch of my face. I could feel the burning trail his stare left in its wake.

  When I still didn’t answer—this time because I was dumbfounded at how much power this guy suddenly had over me—he reached out and touched the small of my back. I knew this move; it was so he could better gain my attention. What he didn’t know, though, was that he already had my attention even without the deliberate placement of his hand. Every inch of my skin blazed to life from his touch. If he could make me feel this way from the smallest of contact, I wondered what else he could do for me tonight. Maybe the love gods weren’t being cruel; maybe they were showing me mercy in the form of a seriously sexy soldier boy.

  “Eva,” I answered. Gaining control over my hand again, I finished pouring myself that second drink I so desperately needed.

  “Eva? Like from the Disney movie Wall-E?”

  And the moment was over. He’d opened his mouth, and crushed it to smithereens. “Yup. And… how old are you?”

  He had a baby face, but his movie reference made me think he might be even younger than I’d initially thought. If he said he was nineteen, I was leaving. I would hand him my cup, text Mindy goodnight, and hightail it out of there. I was not dating someone younger than me.

  “Twenty-three, why? How old are you?”

  Not too much younger than me, but still younger. Ugh.

  “Because your juvenile taste in movies had me wondering.” I topped my drink off, and placed the ladle back where I’d found it. “My age doesn’t matter because I’m not interested.”

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nbsp; “Ouch,” he muttered under his breath. I could still hear his goofy smile reflected in his words though.

  Weaving through the crowd in the kitchen, I made my way back to Mindy. She was still standing where I’d left her, soaking in all of Wes Keeton’s player ways. A hand touched the small of my back, and Soldier Boy appeared at my side as though he were guiding me through the room. I rolled my eyes and wiggled away from his touch, ignoring the sparks that spread from there straight to my who-ha. God, his touch did things to me. Things I couldn’t force back much longer if he kept his hand on me.

  “I don’t need a bodyguard.” I flipped my hair over my shoulder, and continued forward.

  “Never said I thought you did,” he said against my ear, closer than last time. Either he had no barrier for personal space, or he didn’t give a shit.

  Closing my eyes, I inhaled and fought against the sensations coursing through me from his hot breath across my ear, and his hand pressed against my lower back. My heart hammered at his nearness and the rich, low tone he’d just used. Trouble. He was definitely trouble, and I didn’t even need to know his name or be in his presence any longer to be sure of that fact.

  Mindy didn’t notice when I walked up, so I tapped her on the arm to gain her attention.

  “Hey, I know you’re having a great time and all, but I think I’m going to head home,” I said, hoping she didn’t notice Soldier Boy behind me and think I was dipping out for a little action. Deep down I wished I were, maybe not with Soldier Boy, but with someone. Everyone in this room was probably going to have some scandalously hot sex tonight but me. “Are you going to be okay alone?” My eyes shifted to Wes, and then back to her.