When Its Least Expected

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When Its Least Expected Page 2

by Heather Van Fleet


  memories behind in order to create some new ones. He was fine with the bad memories.

  Well, most of them…

  “Hey mouse,” Mason called out to his sister, smirking when her backside stiffened. “I’ll

  come find you at half-time, okay?” She responded with the flick of her hand over her shoulder.

  He shook his head. She was apparently too good for him now.

  Her new friends, on the other hand, giggled in unison at him, like he was the funniest

  thing they’d ever seen. Mason grinned back of course, adding in a wink too. What kind of guy would he be if he didn’t wink? Of course, they all sighed, staring back at him as if he was that shiny new toy they all wanted to play with but couldn’t afford to buy. Maisy though, whipped her head towards him like the exorcist, mouthing the words, “Go the F away.” Her narrowed

  blue eyes would probably shoot daggers at him in a heartbeat if she could. He shrugged. Yeah, he knew how badly he pissed her off, but did he care? Nope, not a damn bit. Hell, he lived to antagonize her. It was his brotherly duty for God’s sake!

  He meandered around the crowd, heading towards the bleachers. The night air was extra

  warm for October. Still, he stuck his hands in his pants pockets just to keep them occupied. His focus was on nothing in particular, gazing at his soon to be peers, rolling his eyes at their cheering voices.

  Damn small towns and their football games.

  But after a few more feet of walking along the black tar pavement, something shiny

  caught his eye, and with an unknown urge tugging at his gut, he bent over and picked it up. He held it in his palm noting first how smooth it felt under his fingertip. He shrugged, turning it over, only to see the engraved letter H stamped out on the back. He pocketed it and headed

  toward the concession stand to turn it in. His one good humanitarian act of the year was

  apparently under way.

  But plans changed, when his ears were bombarded with the sweetest little voice spilling

  out the nastiest little words. He turned in a full circle just to face the noise.

  “Son of a mother humper…”

  Mason’s brows knitted together as he focused on the source of the funny words. His gut

  tightened as a vision in white came into view. He grinned slowly, wickedly, just as two long shapely legs stretched out from beneath the bleachers. That ass, covered with frilly, tight lace, was wiggling something fierce as she continued on with her stream of naughty words.

  For once in his life, Mason couldn’t talk, couldn’t say a damn word. His throat was

  closed off. And he was officially speechless.

  “Abigail, give me a hand here, would you please? I can’t find the stupid ass key ring that

  was attached to my wristlet.” The frustrated voice called out to her friend.

  Key ring huh? He grinned, fingering it in his pocket. Apparently the little owner of his

  silver discovery had been found.

  Mason inched closer, not caring about being noticed any longer. This damsel in distress

  was too intriguing to deny. “Abigail, are you listening? Ah-ha, I think I see it now! I just gotta get in here … a little bit farther and … oh shit.”

  Mason’s crossed his arms in front of him, eyes narrowing in curiosity. What was up with

  the potty mouth angel this time? He leaned back against a nearby light post, crossing his legs at his ankles, wanting nothing more than to see what trouble she’d run into. Her friend finally seemed to notice him. Hell, her ogling eyes practically burned a hole through his body. But the only thing he was interested in, was putting a face to the voice and cute little, white covered ass.

  His curiosity needed to be sated, badly…

  “I cannot believe this is happening to me! God hates me, I know it! I should have just

  stayed home with David and watched reruns of that zombie show he likes so much. But no, I

  decided to come to this God forsaken game instead,” she grumbled, brushing her hands together as she rose to her feet. Mason stood up a little straighter. Anticipation was not exactly his strong suit. “Now the one and only skirt I own is ripped and my hand is covered in either mud … or …

  ugh, I don’t even want to think about the alternative.”

  Mason’s heart raced, his hands trembled. His mouth went dry. Finally, she turned around,

  and shit … there was no way he could tear his eyes away at that point.

  Damn, when had he turned into a creeper?

  Her profile appeared first as she dug her slender hand into some wallet thingy. And then

  boom, she finally glanced up at him.

  He gaped, and then he blinked. Holy … shit … the girl … was a goddess .

  His body numbed, his eyes bugged from his head. The breath in his chest was lost in that

  stunned sort of way, just as the sexy as sin creature, with the chocolate brown eyes, glared back at him. Mason blinked again, this time his jaw practically became unhinged. He knew he should look away, or maybe at least wipe the drool hanging from his mouth, but he was too frozen in place to a damn thing.

  “What the hell are you staring at?” she snarled. Her upper lip curled on one side, Elvis

  style.

  Damn… Who knew grimaces could be so sexy? She owned that grimace – worked it like

  it was her sex slave. Like a love sick puppy, Mason found himself grinning back at her, only to get assaulted with more nasty words from that pretty full-lipped mouth.

  “Umm, are you going to answer me sometime tonight, pal, or are you just going to stand

  there, grinning like the idiot you most likely are?” She finished wiping off her hands with some sort of napkin before she moved in closer, stalking him with fierceness in her hateful eyes.

  The site of her body coming near should have had Mason running, but he didn’t.

  Couldn’t was the better word. He needed to be near her. Hell, he needed to touch her… He

  tucked his hands back in his pockets to keep from doing just that. He had to get control before he did something stupid.

  “I couldn’t help but notice your little problem, so I thought I’d be your knight in shining armor tonight…” he winked. God, where did all his game go? He wanted to smack his own face, but he was too distracted by the sudden appearance of her barely there freckles across her cream colored skin. In fact, the closer she got to him, the harder he tightened his fists to fight off the freakish urge to reach out and play connect the dots with them.

  He shook his head, clearing his pussy thoughts, taking a breath to steady his voice at the

  same time. He wiped a damp palm down the front of his face. There was no way some little

  Midwestern girl, with hair that resembled midnight ocean waves, was going to get to him.

  “Wow, I’ve got my own very own hero here, Abs. Why ever didn’t you tell me?” She

  tried her hand at an Alabama drawl, fanning her face at the same time. Her attitude should have turned him off, but damn if it didn’t draw him in more.

  “Hey now, no need to get an attitude with me, little beast,” he replied, digging the lost

  key chain from his pocket. Her eyes narrowed down at his hands, reaching out to swipe it from him. He grinned, holding it above his head. No way was he letting it go that easily.

  It was play time.

  “Uh, uh, uh … not so fast,” he shot her what had been called his panty dropping smile

  while shaking the silver thing back and forth in a hypnotizing motion. “Don’t I deserve a thank-you or maybe even a little kiss for coming to your rescue?”

  She gaped up at him. She looked like he’d just kicked her puppy. Her lips pulled down

  harder; she’d get early, onset wrinkles if she kept that up. Her quick witted and snarky attitude came back with a vengeance though. He wasn’t surprised. Hell, he already liked it, expected it.

  “Whatever! You
’re definitely not my Prince Charming,” she huffed, holding her chin

  high, her eyes turned bright and feisty. “You’re more like some sort of buffoon who – who needs a haircut!” She gestured towards Mason’s head. Not her best comeback he was sure, but maybe, just maybe, he was getting to her, like she was getting to him!

  “Besides, who calls a girl they don’t even know little beast anyways, huh? That’s

  horribly rude and … and … degrading!” she stuttered, clawing at Mason’s arm.

  Of course she wouldn’t know that the words “little beast” were the most complimenting

  words he’d ever said to someone, especially a girl.

  “I'm sorry, little beast. What should I call you then?” Mason questioned snidely,

  regretfully handing over the keys she so badly seemed to want. She snatched them from his hand with an angry grunt.

  “Ha! There’s no way I’ll tell you my name, buddy. Jerks like you don’t deserve that

  privilege.” She bit down on her bottom lip. Mason’s heart went haywire at the movement. Hell, it had to have been the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

  Damn her … gnawing on lips was supposed to be his job!

  The abrupt thought had him taking a step backwards. He heaved a sigh as his gut

  clenched. Shit. What was he thinking? He had to get away from this girl fast, otherwise he’d be taking matters into his own hands, or mouth was more like it. No girl had ever affected him like this before.

  The scary part was he wasn’t sure if he completely disliked it.

  She gave him one last irritated glare before turning to stomp away. She muttered some

  pissy words under her breath as she did, but it didn’t matter. Nothing did, except for the fact that he knew he would have to see her again.

  Holy shit … what the hell am I thinking?

  “It’s Harley,” her friend whispered, breaking him from his silent berating, smiling over

  her shoulder as she winked. He had barely noticed her until that moment. “And I’m guessing you got to my friend over there. She never backs down from an argument.” Mason glanced over the top of the girl’s head to see Harley again. He couldn’t get enough.

  He snarled when his eyes found her. Dammit! She wasn’t alone! In fact she was currently

  in the arms of some oversized dude in a letterman jacket. She gave the freak an award winning smile. Mason’s gut knotted. Jealousy was not even in his vocabulary, but seeing her in that dude’s arms made his pulse race with exactly that.

  Get it together… she’s just a girl…

  This little beast, now officially known now as Harley, turned her gaze towards his. Their

  eyes molded together, her brown ones, his blue ones. He bit the inside of his cheek as her open stare morphed from anger into curiosity. She was beyond gorgeous.

  But then she did something, something casual that still managed to steel the rhythmic

  beat from his heart … she winked at him. “Shit,” Mason muttered, rubbing a hand through his long, sandy blond hair. Apparently he had just found something to keep himself occupied for his remaining four months in Nebraska.

  Chapter Three

  It was Monday, the most dreaded day of the week. After hitting the snooze button for the

  sixth time on her phone, Harley moaned and tucked it under her pillow. Apparently it was time to get up.

  She kicked off the covers and stretched her arms above her head as she yawned. It was

  yet another dream filled night, full of sky blue eyes, and one snarky little surfer boy smile. The dreams had been bombarding her sleep since Friday night, and it was kind of pissing her off.

  Harley vowed to stay away from the boys this year, especially the snarky ones who oozed

  with that a–typical, bad boy persona like he had. Yet, he was almost unavoidable. A mystery she so shouldn’t want to solve, but strangely felt the urge to do just that. It didn’t matter. She’d never see him again anyways.

  “Are you up yet, Harley Ann?” Her mother hollered from the kitchen.

  Harley grumbled under her breath as she stood. She was up, sure, but she definitely

  wasn’t awake. Harley hated Mondays, even more than she hated death. She slipped on her

  favorite worn out jeans and white tank top, just as the scent of blueberry pancakes invaded her nose. And just like that, all of her irritation fled with the promise of what was waiting for her in the kitchen.

  “Wow, Mom, you never make these during the week! What’s the special occasion?” she

  asked, lifting the dark locks of her hair from the back of her tank, just as she entered the kitchen.

  She hoisted herself onto a chair and fingered the rim of her juice glass, peering greedily towards the stove. She licked her lips. Blueberry pancakes had to have been better than sex. Well … not that she’d knew what sex was like … but still, nothing could possibly beat the warm goodness of syrup dripping down her throat, right?

  Her mother looked up from her skillet. A potent smile appeared on her lips. Harley stifled

  an eye roll as she downed her orange yumminess. She slammed the cup on the table and wiped

  the remaining residue around her mouth with her bare arm.

  That look on her mother’s face went from sweet, to drama queen in less than a minute.

  Her eyes darkened, her lips curled down into a frown. Crap. Something was wrong. “No reason, sweetie, just decided to do something nice for you to start your Monday off right.” She patted the top of Harley’s head, her evasiveness was irritating. Harley’s defensive walls went up.

  Somebody had to have died. Her mom always softened her with food before bad news came.

  “Crap, Mom,” Harley groaned, tucking her chin into her chest. “Who died?” She

  snatched a piece of bacon off a nearby plate, downing it in one bite. She had to fill her stomach soon otherwise her nerves wouldn’t take too kindly to a full meal.

  Her mother stared over her glasses. A wrinkle of disapproval settled between her brows

  as she laid pancakes on the table. Then she turned around and headed back towards the sink. Not a single word had left her mouth. That was good at least because it meant that everyone was apparently still alive and kicking.

  Harley relaxed, letting her shoulders drop as she scowled at her mother’s backside. There

  was honestly no point in questioning the lady anyways. When she wanted to talk, she’d talk.

  Leaning back a little in her chair, Harley stared down the hall, checking for signs of

  David. But as usual, he was nowhere in sight. Go Figure… Now that David was homeschooled,

  he pretty much woke and slept whenever he wanted. It was annoyingly unhealthy behavior as far as Harley was concerned, but her parents let it slide. They were obviously still in denial of their son’s current emotional state of crap-tastic-ness.

  “Eat up, Har. There’s plenty more where that came from.” Her mother turned back

  around and sat down in the seat next to her, her own plate filled to the brim. But unlike Harley, the woman didn’t touch a thing.

  Harley slowed her bites, studying the movements of her mother’s hands. She had stirred

  the syrup around, then poked at the bacon, and finally flipped the scrambled eggs like they were bouncy balls. The woman sighed, over and over again, until she practically robbed the entire room of oxygen.

  Harley let her fork clatter down onto her plate. She cleared her throat, her eyes practically drilled holes into her mother’s forehead until she finally peered up at her. This was getting ridiculous. Their stare held for a long moment, and Harley leaned forward, steepling her fingers under her chin with her eyes wide and questioning. But her mouth stayed shut.

  “Harley, I need to discuss something with you ...”

  Crappity crap. Here it comes…

  Harley held her breath and fought another eye roll, letting a fake smile win out over her

&nbs
p; lips. “Sure, Mom, what’s up?” she bobbed her knee up and down; the table’s legs shook from her nervous habit.

  “Well, your dad and I have been talking a lot lately, and we think that maybe it’s time for you to start getting more serious about your college applications. You haven’t entirely missed out on the deadlines yet.” Harley coughed, placing a hand over her mouth. Her now full stomach was, like she had figured, at war with the anxiety that had been building.

  No, not the college thing! Anything but that!

  “I know it’s been a rough couple of years, Har, but you’ve got to start thinking about

  your future now, rather than putting it on hold for your brother.” Harley blinked; disbelief took over her emotions as she stared back at her mother.

  Damn. The woman was blunt.

  “I know, Mom.” And yeah, she actually did. The problem was that Harley didn’t think

  her heart could deal with the whole going away to college thing, especially if she had to go without David.

  Harley and her brother did everything together. Walking, talking, riding bikes, starting

  kindergarten, every milestone you could think of. Being without her brother, this major step in life was not a fathomable option.

  But apparently her mother had other ideas.

  “Okay, fine, Mom. Next weekend, we’ll sit down and fill out a few applications.”

  God, what was she saying? Why was she agreeing to this?

  Her mother squealed her obvious approval, clapping her hands as she jabbered away,

  “Yay! I’m so glad you finally feel the same way, Har! I promise you, this is for the best!”

  Harley nodded and sighed, but her heart wasn’t feeling it. But it didn’t matter how she

  felt, did it. She’d do pretty much anything to make her parents happy, especially since it was her fault their lives were so screwed up to begin with.

  Her ears took in the familiar squeaking of her brother’s wheels, and she sat back,

  glancing down at the time on her cell. Crap. Seven thirty. She had to go!

  She stood, took her plate to the sink, and somehow, her feet led her towards the front

  door. That conversation had rocked her world, and not in a good, happy way either.

 

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