The Handoff (Big Play #3)

by Jordan Ford

  My subtle hint at the content makes Colt swallow. He gives me a disbelieving stare, but my nod tells him he’s on the right track. His head jolts back while his upper lip curls in disgust. The guy’s always been quick. I decide not to make matters a million times worse and mention that Quaid Miller features in the images, as well. I’ll deal with that shit later.

  Colt leans forward in his chair. “Does anyone else know about this?”

  “No, she’s only told me. Tori was covering for her, but she doesn’t know the reason why. She just wanted to help her out.”

  Colt’s forehead bunches in confusion. “Layla’s been nothing but horrible to her. Why would she do that?”

  I smile. “Because she’s Pixie Girl.”

  It only takes a second for Colt to match my grin. He shakes his head and snickers, his knee starting up once more—bob, bob, bob. “When I saw him standing over her today, yelling at her like that…and that flash of fear on her face. It scared the shit out of me, man. And then I was taken with this overpowering need to protect her. It was freaking primal.”

  “I know how you feel.”

  Colt’s gaze shoots up from the floor to meet mine. His blue eyes are filled with concern as he slowly warns me, “Mack’s going to lose it.”

  “I know.” I swallow, although I’m not sure what he’ll lose it over more—the fact I’ve fallen for his sister, or the fact that their stepbrother has crossed the line. I guess we both have in some ways. My line isn’t half as bad as Derek’s, but it’s still enough to piss Mack off.

  “We need to see those photos,” Colt murmurs. “Figure out what we’re dealing with.”

  “You told him?” Layla’s voice cuts into the room, making us both jump.

  I jerk out of my seat and spin to face her. Her brown eyes are large, her expression plagued with regret, self-loathing, trepidation, and a couple more emotions I can’t quite pinpoint. It’s like gazing at the world’s busiest cocktail and trying to work up the courage to take the first sip.

  Her jaw trembles as she opens her mouth, but then her eyebrows dip together as she looks to the floor, crossing her arms and digging her fingers into her skin.

  I move around to her before she can leave nail marks. Gently prying her fingers loose, I pull her arms wide and force them around me. I cup the back of her head and press it into my chest.

  “I trust him.”

  She’s stiff and wooden at first, but then Colt helps me out and softly promises, “I won’t tell anyone… Maybe Tori, but…no one else.”

  With a heavy sigh, Layla squeezes my middle then moves to the side so she can look at Colt. I keep my arm around her shoulders and she leans against me. “Please, promise me she won’t say anything. I don’t want anyone else knowing.”

  “You have my word. We just want to help you.” Colt runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for losing it before. I just…”

  “You had every right. Tori’s been nothing but nice to me, and if she got hurt because of…” Layla sniffs and shakes her head. “I don’t know how I’m going to end this, but no one’s getting hurt on my account.”

  Colt gives her a grateful smile. “You’re alright, Layla.”

  She shakes her head in disagreement, but I just squeeze her shoulder and kiss the top of her head, trying to remind her how beautiful she is.

  “I’ll leave you guys to it.” Colt shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “Sorry for the knuckles, man.”

  I hold out my fist. “It’s all good. You punch like a girl, anyway.”

  Layla slaps my stomach and throws me a dark look while Colt snickers. He taps his fist against mine, gives Layla one more sympathetic smile, then walks from the room. I watch over her head as he’s leaving. Stopping at the door, Colt silently promises to back up whatever I decide to do. I nod my thanks then wait for the door to click shut before gazing down at Layla.

  She meets my eyes with a sad kind of smile before turning for the door.

  “Wait.” I catch her wrist and glide my hand down so our fingers thread together. “I’ll walk you home.”

  “It’s okay.” She shakes her head. “He might be there.”

  “All the more reason to walk you.” I wink, hoping it’ll hide everything going on inside me. If Derek is at the house when I get there, I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist the urge to punish him. But until I can know for sure that he won’t be posting nasty pictures anywhere, I’ve got to play it cool.

  Protecting Layla comes way above hurting the guy.

  The sooner Colt and I can track down those photos, the better.

  #21:

  A Lacy Black Thong

  Layla

  Finn’s fingers are so long they practically cover my hand. I glance down at them as our arms swing slightly. I’ve never walked home so slowly before.

  The sky’s a little overcast today, unlike the brilliant blue of yesterday afternoon. In spite of my big confession, it turned out to be one of the best afternoons of my life. Finn thinks I’m beautiful, in spite of everything I told him. His kisses, the way he holds me so tenderly, makes me feel beautiful…like maybe I deserve to be treated with this much respect and care. I don’t, but it feels so good I just can’t resist it.

  Worry continues to plow my insides, laying fresh rows of doubt every few minutes. I shouldn’t be pulling Finn into this nightmare. I should be going to the bus stop and buying a ticket to Key West or something. That’s the farthest place in America I can think of. Surely, I could disappear there.

  But if I do that, there’s a chance Derek’s going to hurt good people in his quest to find me. Running away may solve my problems, but it won’t solve theirs.

  I guess it’s the combination of that and not wanting to leave Finn that’s forcing my feet back to a house I’ve always hated.

  Rounding the corner, we meander up the path. I can see the lavish house now, with its big front pillars and the stone columns. It’s a beautiful property and looks like the perfect house from the outside. But it’s never been my home. We moved in the week after Martin and Mom got married. I hated it from the outset because it represented everything I didn’t want to happen—a union between my mother and some guy who wasn’t my dad.

  “You okay?” Finn’s deep voice caresses me.

  “Yeah.” I nod, then shake my head.

  “I know you’re scared and you don’t want to go back, but I’m really grateful you’re staying in Nelson.”

  It’s hard not to smile at his words. I look up and whisper, “Thank you.” My voice is barely audible, but he knows what I’m saying.

  His gaze is so warm and affectionate. It’s making my stomach jump and jitter. I’ve always wondered what the word giddy felt like. Now I know. If it weren’t for the impending Derek nightmare, I would seriously be floating.

  In saying that, though, if it weren’t for the impending Derek nightmare, I wouldn’t be walking along the street, holding Finn’s hand and toying with these loved-up emotions I’ve never felt before.

  Weird how sometimes the best things in the world can come from the nastiest of circumstances.

  Holding my breath, I approach our front door and check the handle. It’s locked. Relief floods through me. Hopefully that means the house is empty.

  I dig the key out of my purse, not missing the slight tremor in my hand as I unlock the door.

  Finn smooths his fingers down my back, a silent reminder that he’s still here. It works. Knowing he’s got my back is a huge comfort. My boots sound loud on the tiles as I cross the entryway. I don’t call out or announce my presence. Instead, we walk up the stairs together, hand in hand.

  Peeking into my bedroom, I scan the space and figure it looks pretty much how I left it, minus those chilling photographs. Derek’s gathered them up and stashed them somewhere.

  “Come on.” I tip my head toward his room and we pad down the hallway.

  Nerves are going nuts in my belly when I step inside. I’ve never really been in there before. My nos
e wrinkles at the distinct boy odor that scorches my nostrils. Waving a hand in front of my face, I look around the room. Derek’s bed is made, kind of badly. The cover looks like it’s just been yanked up with a rushed tug. Underwear, shirts, and crinkled up socks are on the floor near the hamper, but not actually in it. Other than that, it’s pretty sparse. There’s not too much Derek can actually make a mess with. The navy blue curtains are drawn, making the room dark and gloomy.

  I walk to his desk and fish through the drawers but don’t spot any pictures. I check under the pile of car magazines by his bed but can’t see anything in my haste. Fear that he’ll walk in the door any minute is making my movements jerky.

  Finn checks the bookshelf along the wall.

  “Anything?”

  “Not that I can see.” He turns to face me with a smile. “We’ll find them, but I doubt he’s left the photos here, especially if he’s already gone back to Brownridge. It’s not like he wants your mom to find ‘em.”

  A shudder jerks my spine as I imagine that scenario. Would Mom even care? She’d probably glare at me, then tell me off for going too far before turning a sweet smile on Derek and apologizing for my forward behavior. Feeling sick, I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

  “Hey.” Finn’s deep voice stretches across the room, making me stand and rush over to him. His arm is tight around my waist as he leads me out of Derek’s smelly pit and back to my room where the air is sweet and light is shining through the windows.

  I glance at my bed, then swallow and look up at Finn. His dark eyes are studying my face as if trying to memorize every curve and contour. And he thinks I’m beautiful. The standard expectations I’m so used to come knocking at my door so I stretch up and kiss him, running my fingers over his coarse hair when his tongue sweeps across mine. His hands wind around my waist, spreading across my back as he melds our bodies together. It feels so good to be held like this, kissed like this.

  Closing my eyes, I focus on the sheer luxury of feeling him, loving the way his tongue curls around mine. I pull back just a little and smile up at him then whisper words that come all too easy. They’re so familiar I don’t even think before saying them.

  “Do you want to move to the bed?”

  He goes still, his eyes narrowing slightly at the corners. “Why?”

  There’s a slow caution in the way he says the words. His hands are still around me though, and I don’t understand why he’s not nodding like an eager puppy. All the other guys do.

  My cheeks flare as he makes me say it. “You know…” I clear my throat and let out a nervous little titter. “It’s okay. I can lock the door, and I have protection. It’s…” My voice trails off and I end up biting the edge of my lip.

  Finn’s smile comes slow and easy, stretching across his face like the sun rising over a mountaintop. I grip his forearms, soaking in the look as nerves jitter my insides. This is my first time with a guy I actually really like. It’s a big deal.

  “Layla.” Finn strokes the side of my face. “I’ve only kissed you a few times. Don’t you think that’s kind of rushing things?”

  My stomach flips and my head jolts back in surprise. No guy has ever said that to me before. There’s always been this goes without saying kind of understanding. Kissing leads to sex.

  “Um…” I pull out of his grasp and start fiddling with my earring. I’m not sure what’s going on right now. He tells me I’m beautiful but doesn’t want to sleep with me. Why? My jaw works to the side as I try to figure out what to do. “A kiss or two is usually enough…for most guys.”

  Leaning forward, Finn halts my retreat with his hand on my hip and bends down to whisper in my ear. “I’m not most guys.”

  His lips brush my face as he pulls back, and all I can do is stare at him with a confused frown. “You don’t want me?”

  “Oh, I want you.” His head tips to the side as his eyes travel down my body. The need dancing through them is different than what I’ve seen before—more like longing than outright hunger. “I just want to wait until you’re one hundred percent in love with me first.”

  What? Since when do sex and love have anything to do with each other? I just want to get lost in a feel good moment with Finn. It’ll take the pressure off, help me forget about what awaits me after he leaves.

  I run my finger down his arm, tracing the strong muscles. “You don’t have to be nervous, you know. Will it be your first time? I mean, if it is, that’s okay.”

  Finn’s mouth tips up into a half-smile as he runs his hand over his head. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not nervous about doing something like this with you, but Layla…that’s not why I’m saying, no.” He glides up against me, running his hands down my sides before threading them behind my back. “I told you you’re beautiful and you deserve to be treated that way. I’m not rushing into bed with you. I want to savor this, take my time until we’re both comfortable enough to take our clothes off. When…if…I ever get the privilege of having you like that, it’s going to mean so much more than a rushed thing before your family gets home. I want to own your heart before I own your body, okay?”

  I can’t do anything more than blink at that. My throat is too clogged with emotion to speak, so all I can give him is a watery smile.

  Lifting me off my feet, he kisses my lips with confidence, like he’s already getting to work on the heart-owning business.

  Seriously, the way he’s treating me, it will not take long to win me over. Does that make me pathetic, or him a romantic genius?

  Whatever. I don’t care.

  The way I’m feeling right now, I’ll do anything Finn tells me to.

  We kiss for a few more minutes and then I walk Finn downstairs, still slightly dazed by this weird turn of events.

  “You sure you’re going to be okay?” Finn pauses at the door. “I can wait until someone gets home.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m just going to take a shower then prep myself before Mom gets back and starts asking me about my week.”

  “Alright.” Finn touches the side of my neck, gifting me a soft smile. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “I will,” I whisper. I stand in the doorway and watch as he strides away, his long legs eating up the ground beneath him.

  Once he’s finally out of view, I close the door and lean against it with a soft, dreamy sigh. Unreal. I have never been rejected by a guy before. Who would have thought it’d feel this good?

  A giggle bursts out of me, loud and unchecked. Slapping my hand over my mouth, I walk back to the stairwell and bounce up the carpeted steps, swamped once more by that light, giddy feeling.

  Finn Jones.

  I repeat the name in my head, singing it to myself as I get ready for my shower. I hum under the hot spray, stopping every now and then to stare up at the ceiling and laugh all over again.

  It’s not until I step into the hall that I’m jerked back to reality.

  “Mom!” I jump and clutch the towel to my chest.

  “Oh, hey, sweetie. How was your break? You have a good time in Boise?”

  It takes me a second to register her questions, so I stand there like an idiot, giving her a blank stare.

  Her eyes narrow with a bemused smile. “You were in Boise, right?”

  “Yes!” My head bobs. “Yes, of course I was. Sorry, I was just thinking of something else. Um… It was great. Very cool college.”

  Mom grins. “Well, maybe one of my children will end up following in their father’s footsteps after all.” She winks.

  I snicker and then give in with a shrug, trying to sell it.

  Mom gazes at me with a look I can’t decipher. I put on a bright smile, hoping to derail whatever thought she’s got going on up there.

  I hope all signs of my hideous sickness are gone. I’m sure I look a touch thinner and my skin is probably still a little pasty. I clear my throat and move to step past her.

  “How was your week?” I throw the question out there for good measure, ho
ping to distract her.

  “Wonderful.” Mom laughs. “The house was so quiet. Derek was out almost every night.”

  My shoulders tense but Mom doesn’t notice. She’s got this dreamy look on her face. “It was like being a young married couple or something. Martin and I watched movies and went out for dinner, played cards, went for a walk by the lake. It was…just lovely.”

  Talk like that usually got my back up. Jealous prickles would spike all over my body, but they didn’t even pop up this time. Mom just described my last few days with Finn. And for the first time ever, I understand the smile on her face.

  Hanging out with someone you like is lovely. That’s the perfect way to describe it. I know that probably sounds totally grandma and completely boring, but I’d take it over one of those crazy parties any day. My big quest to forget my hurt is doing nothing to ease the hole inside me. And one week with Finn has made me feel more capable than I ever have in my life.

  Life’s weird…and so unexpected.

  It’s kind of cool.

  “What does that smile mean?” Mom points at my face.

  “Nothing,” I whisper, then spin toward my room with a dreamy sigh.

  The smile is still very much in place as I click my door shut, but it’s sucked into oblivion when I spin around to find Derek going through my underwear drawer.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I snap, fisting the join of my towel to make sure it’s secure.

  Being practically naked with this jerk in my room is more than unsettling. I want to fling the door open and run, but I’m not about to sprint down the street like this, and I’m not ready for Mom to know the truth. I probably never will be.

  “Well, well, well. This will be perfect.” Derek pulls out my lacy black thong and spins it in the air with a wicked grin.