Bad Boys Break Hearts

by Smeltzer, Micalea

  “What’s he do?”

  “He’s a professional surfer.”

  “Damn.” I take a sip of my juice. “Your family is just full of talented people.”

  “I promise you we don’t have our shit together that well.”

  “Are you happy?”

  I can tell my question takes him by surprise the way his posture stiffens. “I guess. For the most part … yeah.”

  “You can talk to me. I know we’re not exactly friends now or whatever, but I’ve been through some shit. I would never tell anyone.”

  He wraps his arms around one of the barriers to keep people from falling from the deck. Tilting his head my way his eyes are darker than normal—serious. “I know, Princess.”

  My throat tightens at the way he says princess. It’s different this time. I feel that word all the way in my core.

  He finishes his juice pouch and squeezes the cardboard box up, stuffing it back in his pocket. “We better head back.”

  We haven’t been here long but with the walk I know he’s right.

  “Okay.” I finish the juice and he takes it from me.

  Before we get to the ladder to go down Mascen looks back at me, eyes downcast. “Thank you.”

  I don’t really know what he’s thanking me for, but I nod anyway.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Mascen

  After dinner, we leave the parents behind in the house and head outside to the firepit. It’s a chilly evening but the fire more than makes up for it. Liam sits on the ground with his wife Ariella between his legs, his hands on her small round bump. I don’t know how the fuck we got to the point of being the age to start having kids. Dean sits in one of the chairs with Willow in his lap, leaving Lylah, Rory, and me in the other chairs.

  “How are things going?” I ask Liam. It was hard to catch up over dinner with so many people and clashing voices.

  “Couldn’t be better.” He smiles conspiratorially looking between Rory and me. “Seems you’re not too bad yourself. How’s baseball?”

  “Good. Things are about to get busy.”

  Lylah heaves a sigh, rolling her eyes. “Are all guys this lacking in detail when it comes to things?”

  Willow and Ariella laugh, blurting a simultaneous, “Yes.”

  I lift my beer to my lips, refusing to acknowledge them.

  “You grew up next door, right?” Liam addresses Rory and she sits up a little straighter.

  “I did, but we left when I was eight.”

  “You and Mascen kept in touch?”

  Her cheeks color. “No, just happened to go to the same school and ran into each other. Here we are.”

  “Interesting.” Liam winks at me.

  I pull my pack of cigarettes out of my pocket needing to light up the way this conversation is going.

  “If you ask me, it’s serendipitous. Chances like this don’t come around often.” Ariella looks between the two of us. I hate being in the fucking spotlight like this.

  Sucking on the cigarette, I exhale the air out of my lungs. “Didn’t know we asked your opinion on it.”

  Liam straightens and Ari whispers something to him, but he shakes his head. “Dude, don’t talk to my wife like that—and could you put that thing out? Ari’s pregnant in case you failed to notice.”

  I narrow my eyes and stand. “Fine.”

  Grabbing my beer, I stand. “I’ll be over here, smoking on the opposite side of the yard.”

  Settling under the gazebo on the other end from them in front of the pool I stretch my legs out and lie back on my elbows. The furniture that’s normally under here is packed away for the winter months.

  Rory walks over sitting beside me.

  “You know,” I drawl lazily, “you coming over here will only excite them further and stir the gossip.”

  “Let them talk.” She pulls her knees up to her chest wrapping her arms around them. “You’re not a very good conversationalist are you?”

  “I don’t like social gatherings.” Crushing the butt of the cigarette against the ground to extinguish it I toss it into the bushes for the landscapers to find later. Lighting up another, I say, “I love my family, but I’m not good at this. I’m too…”

  “Secretive?”

  “It’s not even about secrets.” I shake my head. “I just don’t like talking about myself. But I guess when you don’t like yourself that’s what you get.”

  She stiffens in surprise. “You don’t like yourself?”

  I roll my head her way. “What’s there to like? I’m not a good person.”

  “Why is it you think you’re that way?”

  “Didn’t know this was going to turn into a goddamn therapy lesson. If I wanted that we could’ve had this talk in the treehouse.”

  A smile plays on her lips and she tucks them together like that can erase her amusement. “Tell me anyway.”

  “It’s easier to know why people don’t like me—because I give them a reason to—than to question what I’ve done wrong.”

  “You’re talking about your dad aren’t you?”

  I finish my cigarette. “I guess.”

  “Have you ever tried having a conversation with him about how you feel?”

  “Why would I? It wouldn’t change anything.” I think about how I blew up at him the first night home. He hasn’t brought it up and our conversations have been like normal. Short and to the point.

  “You never know.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.”

  She looks at me for a long moment, searching for something but what I’m not sure. “Okay isn’t good enough. Not for anyone. Don’t settle for it.”

  She starts to get up, but before she walks away I grab her hand, forcing her to look back at me. “Thank you for coming here with me.”

  A smile softens her face, her eyes warm behind her glasses. “You’re welcome.”

  Her hand begins to pull from mine and I tighten my hold. “Rory?”

  “Yeah?” She hesitates, her smile a little wary.

  “Don’t settle for okay either.”

  * * *

  The days pass quickly and suddenly it’s my last day home. A part of me is relieved to be going tomorrow, but I also don’t know how that’s going to change things between Rory and me. Here we’ve been in our own little bubble, a silent truce cast between us, and come tomorrow we’ll be entering our old world and I’m not sure what that means.

  Walking down the stairs I turn for the hall nearly walking straight into my dad coming out of his hedgehog room—yeah, he has a whole room for his hedgehogs. He tried to convince Rory to adopt one, but I cut him off because no way are they allowing one of his spiky little monsters into a dorm.

  “Mascen, I wanted to talk to you.”

  I jerk back in surprise. “Uh, really? About what?”

  “Come on.” He opens the door back up, nodding for me to follow him inside. I feel uneasy, like I’m being led to slaughter. Contrary to popular belief I hate confrontation.

  Inside he motions for me to sit on the couch. One of the hedgehogs runs on the wheel he custom built for it and I stare at the weird looking little animal so I don’t have to look at him.

  He sits down in the chair waiting for me to acknowledge him.

  “What do you want, Dad?” I know it’s better to get this over with than to drag it out.

  “I think we need to have a talk.”

  “Honestly, Dad, it’s not necessary. I shouldn’t have blown up at you. It’s fine.” I start to stand.

  “Sit down, Mascen.”

  I plop my ass down immediately. I might be an adult now, but his tone is the one every parent has that the kid knows not to argue with. When your mom or dad uses that voice you shut up and listen.

  Resting his chin in his hands he seems to be gathering himself.

  “I’ve thought non-stop about what you said. It hurt, I won’t lie, but I never saw things the way you did.” I open my mouth to speak but he holds his hand up for me to
shut up. “I’m not saying you’re wrong—everyone has a right to how they feel and a reason they do, me telling you that you’re wrong wouldn’t change the situation.”

  Leaning back, he runs his fingers through his hair. “I love music, I love my band, I love making fans happy and being up on stage, but you, your sisters, your mom, that’s my real reason for breathing. My family has always meant more to me than that. It’s why we chose to stop touring for a while, to give you kids a chance to go to a regular school and live as close to a normal life as possible. But just because we weren’t in L.A. as much or touring it didn’t mean it changed who I was. Who I am.”

  He shakes his head, giving himself a moment. “I feel like I’m explaining this all wrong, but I’m trying. You’ve always been the most independent out of the three of you. Sure, Willow is wild and carefree, but she needs her family to thrive. She needs a tether. Lylah is a social butterfly, but she’s still always wanted me and your mom to hold her hand through things. But you were always so stubborn and fiercely independent. You always told me not to help, that you were a big boy and could do it on your own. Even as a toddler you were always saying that. You’ve always reminded me of my brother in that way. Mathias has never wanted to admit when he needs help or someone to be there for him. He’s afraid he’s admitting weakness if he can’t handle something on his own. You wanted to take on the world and I stepped back to watch, because I knew you could do it. I’ve always believed in you, son. You talked about your games and me not being there or leaving, and that’s on me, not you, and how I felt. I thought you didn’t want me there. Any time I was you’d find me in the stands and glare like you wished you could erase me. I figured it was because of the attention I’d get and the disturbance it caused, so I’d leave, and then I stopped coming all together.”

  He pushes up from the chair and comes to sit beside me. “I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel any less than loved. You kids are my world, the one your mom and I created together.”

  “Ew, Dad,” I protest, not wanting this to jump to a birds and the bees topic.

  He chuckles, ruffling my hair like I’m five. “Never doubt that I’m proud of you, Mascen. I’m beyond honored to be your father. We might have different interests, God knows I can’t play sports to save myself, but it doesn’t mean we don’t have other things in common. I love you. So much.”

  “Don’t make me cry, Old Man.”

  He chuckles, his eyes brimmed with tears and he yanks me into his arms in a tight hug. He releases me from the hug but keeps a hold on my shoulders. “I know words can’t make everything better, or change the way you felt, but I’m going to do whatever I can to make it up to you.”

  I don’t even know what to say, but I guess sometimes you don’t need words.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Rory

  My phone rings with a Facetime and when I see it’s Hazel I can’t help but smile even if I am a little peeved with her.

  “I’m so so sorry I didn’t call you back on Thanksgiving,” she says instead of hello. “I feel horrible.”

  “It’s okay.” It hurt that she couldn’t even say a few words on the holiday, but I’ve learned not to let it bother me for long. I know she doesn’t mean anything personal by it.

  “It’s really not. I’m the worst sister ever. I’m going to make this up to you, I swear. Maybe come visit for Christmas.”

  “Sure,” I reply, but I know better than to get my hopes up.

  “I swear, Rory.” Folding a sweater, I pack it into the suitcase. Mascen wants to hit the road early so I decided to pack most of my things tonight. “Where are you? That doesn’t look like your dorm.”

  I’m surprised she can even remember what my dorm looked like considering we’ve only Facetimed twice since I arrived on campus.

  “I’m staying with a friend.” I want to be mean and let that be all the detail she gets from me but I know it’s better to be honest. “I’m actually staying with Mascen. Mascen Wade. You remember the Wade’s who lived next to us?”

  “Oh, wow, I remember them. That’s so crazy. How did you get into contact with him?”

  “School, he goes to Aldridge too.” I grab a pair of jeans and pluck a piece of lint off them. “Small world, huh?”

  “Definitely. I can’t believe that. Wow.” I can tell she’s truly surprised by the news. With a laugh, she adds, “Do you remember when I fake married you guys? He actually kissed you. That was hilarious.”

  I drop the pants into the pile of other packed clothes. “I remember.”

  She turns to respond to someone in the background of the strip club. “I gotta go, sis. Love you.” She blows a kiss and disconnects the call before I can say goodbye.

  Tossing the blackened screen onto the bed I pack the last of my things, leaving out pajamas and an outfit for tomorrow. I’ll stuff today’s dirty clothes in before we leave.

  Opening the door I peek into the hallway but Mascen isn’t lurking there like he sometimes is. Tiptoeing up to his door, I press my ear against it but hear nothing. I ease the door open. “Mascen?”

  I hold my breath, listening.

  Silence is all that greets me. He’s clearly not up there. A part of me wants to sneak up there, check out his inner sanctuary, but I know it would be wrong to breach his personal space in that way. I ease the door closed and go downstairs, thinking he might be in the family room or kitchen.

  He’s in neither. Taking a chance, I bundle up in my jacket, heading out into the dark to the treehouse. It’s harder to find by myself, so I go slow, but eventually I come to the bottom of the tree.

  Tilting my head up, I wrap my hands around my mouth. “Mascen! Are you up there?”

  I hear some shuffling and then his form appears, leaning over the railing. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Looking for you, duh.”

  “Come up.”

  I grab one of the pegs for the ladder and start the ascent up. I’m nearly to the top when my foot slips. My heart lurches in fear as I start to slip. I don’t have time to panic too much before Mascen grabs my arm pulling me up. How he manages to do that, I know I’m not the lightest person, is beyond me. He must have Thor-like strength. It would make sense considering he seems to think he’s a god.

  “Be careful, Princess, I don’t need you falling and taking a permanent slumber I can’t wake you from with the magical touch of my lips.”

  I push his shoulder lightly. “I can’t help I slipped.” He backs inside the treehouse, pulling me inside with him. The middle of the floor is piled with pillows and blankets. “Are you sleeping out here tonight?”

  “I was considering it.” He lays downs on the pillows pulling me with him. A giggle bursts free from my lips from the surprise.

  I roll over onto my back, the two of us lying side by side. If you told me two weeks ago I’d be lying beside Mascen in his old treehouse, not contemplating killing him, I would’ve thought you were lying.

  The silence stretches between us. “This is weird,” he finally says.

  “Why?”

  “We’re just lying here saying nothing when I really want to kiss you.”

  He rolls onto his side, bracing his body weight on his left elbow. His hair falls in his eyes and there’s more stubble on his jaw than normal. It makes him look older, more rugged. I itch to reach up and touch him but I keep my hands fisted at my sides.

  “W-What did you say?” I stutter out, my thoughts barely coherent with him looking deeply into my eyes.

  He wets his lips, eyes dropping to mine. “I said I want to kiss you.” His voice is low and husky. It’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.

  “You say that you hate me, but then you apparently like kissing me.”

  He reaches out, tracing the contour of my lips with his finger. A wicked grin overtakes him and I know then I’m playing with the devil. “I told you I was going to hate fuck the shit out of you.”

  A moan threatens to slip between my lips at the visual of what h
e could do to me. “I’m starting to think you’re all talk. I’m going to need a demonstration.”

  His eyes narrow. “That so?” His voice is even deeper than normal.

  I nod, words fleeing me. Suddenly the only thing I need in the world is his lips on mine, his body grinding above me.

  “You’re playing with fire, Princess. Not afraid?”

  I shake my head, reaching up to thread my fingers through the hair at the base of his skull. I yank him closer, purposely pulling sharply on his hair. He gasps in surprise, the air hissing between his teeth. “You like it rough? Maybe you’re not such a delicate little princess.” The same finger he used to trace my lips glides against my cheek. “Should I start calling you Monster instead?”

  I tug him even closer so we’re nose to nose. “Stop talking.”

  He listens for a change, but not before one of those smirks that I love to hate makes its appearance. With one hand, he angles my jaw upward, and slowly, gently, with intention, kisses me.

  He takes his time with slow nips making my body writhe as I want him to kiss me deeper. I’ve never wanted to give my body over so completely like I do with Mascen.

  He pushes at my jacket and I sit up to remove it completely. He sits back on his heels watching me. His normally gray eyes are nearly black. I start to reach for my shirt but he grabs my hands in his rough grip. “No,” he snarls roughly, the sound of the barked order sending a shiver down my spine. “I’m going to undress you.”

  “Why?” I blurt, my hands still tightly bound in his.

  “Because you’re mine.”

  He doesn’t give me time to react to that proclamation. He grabs my face between his massive hands kissing me like he’s lost all control. I revel in it. I’ve made the normally stoic and always in control Mascen Wade lose his mind. But I swear to God, if he doesn’t take things all the way tonight I might kill him. My body aches for him.

  He pushes me back so I’m lying once more. My legs spread, giving him room to settle between. He rocks his hips as he kisses me, the moan that leaves me pathetically loud as I feel him growing hard.