That Forever Girl

by Quinn, Meghan

  “I think you two need to drop the curse and worry about other things.” I look up from the flames. “Maybe worry about not acting like morons at a birthday party.”

  Like every other surprise party the Knightlys like to host, this one is happening in the evening, when having a crowd of people jump out at you can actually be scary. And this early-fall night is a chilly one. Though firepits aren’t my favorite, I lean closer to the flames now, grateful for their warmth.

  “How are we acting like morons?” Brig asks, his tone defensive.

  I now slouch in my seat, legs spread, head resting against the hard wood of the Adirondack chair. “You were sword fighting with s’mores sticks two seconds ago.”

  “That’s not being a moron, that’s getting our exercise in,” Reid answers. “Not all of us can be born into Adonis form.”

  That pulls a small, slow smirk from my lips. It’s true. My sports background has made it easy for me to retain my physique, unlike my brothers—they have to work out every day. I still work out most days, though, because the gym is the one place I find solace, the one place I can punish myself and feel good about it.

  “Not all of us Knightly brothers can be perfect.” I fold my hands over my stomach, hunkering down for a long night in front of the fire.

  “Do you think Griff is the only one who will find love?” Brig asks. See? Hopeless romantic.

  And because I know how much it means to Brig, I drop the asshole facade for a second and say, “You’re young, you have time.” That’s the best I’ve got.

  “I have a date tomorrow night with a girl who lives up in Pottsmouth. She works at a doughnut shop. If all goes well, I’ll be sure to score us some free doughnuts.”

  “Dude, that’s what you’re concerned about? Free doughnuts?” I roll my eyes.

  “Just being a team player, a good brother.”

  After setting down his beer, Reid picks up a stick from the woodpile and breaks it into pieces, then tosses it casually into the fire. “I couldn’t care less about finding love. None of that shit matters. I just want to get out of this fucking town. Working at Mom and Dad’s gift shop isn’t exactly my dream.”

  Never has been. Reid had big plans, just like I used to.

  “Then why don’t you do anything about it?” Brig asks. “Christ, man, all you two do is wallow in self-pity. Maybe if you brush those chips off your shoulders, you might find happiness.”

  “I don’t wallow,” I say.

  “You’re always growling at people, stomping around town like you’re ready to snap.”

  That’s because I am.

  “It’s just my personality. I can’t help it.”

  “It’s a fucking ugly personality and bullshit. You haven’t always been this way.” Brig leans over to a nearby cooler and pulls out a beer for himself. The snap of the can opening echoes through the woods lined behind us.

  You haven’t always been this way.

  Well, there was a time when I lived my life like Brig: happy and in love. But that part of me died many years ago.

  Laughter rings out from across the lawn, pulling all our attention. Jen and our mom are standing with another woman whose back is to us, all three with drinks in hand. The stranger’s silhouette feels familiar, resembling a figure that used to pull at my gut whenever I saw it.

  “Who’s Jen talking to?” I nod toward their little group.

  “No idea,” Reid answers, tossing another twig in the fire.

  “Whoever she is, she has nice legs,” Brig says. “Long and lean, like a ballerina.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end just as Jen meets my gaze, a giant smile on her face. With her empty hand, she motions for me to join them, but I remain firmly planted.

  “Whoever she is, Jen wants you to meet her.” Brig pokes my arm.

  “Not happening,” I answer, my eyes trained on the woman in question. Her obvious familiarity with my mom and sister is concerning, and the way she pushes her hair behind her ear, and how her head tilts back ever so slightly when she laughs, she almost reminds me of . . .

  “Fuck.” I stand abruptly, pulling on the back of my head and looking around the campfire for the fastest escape route.

  “Dude, you startled me,” Brig complains, holding his beer can out in front of him as Reid chuckles. “I got beer all over me.”

  “I need to get out of here. Move.” Neither of my brothers makes any attempt to get out of my way.

  “Rogue, come here,” Jen calls out.

  And for a moment, I can’t help it; I look in their direction, only to have the wind knocked out of my lungs.

  In what feels like slow motion, the mystery woman turns around, her soft midlength hair fluttering over her shoulders, her eyes widening. Just as I was dreading. It’s her.

  Harper Sanders.

  The girl I was supposed to marry.

  The girl I pushed away.

  The love of my life. Hell, the girl I’m still in love with.

  I glare down at Reid. “Move the fuck out of my way now, or I’m going to bend your legs back over your head.”

  “Damn, man, what’s the problem?” Reid’s gaze drifts to the group of women, and I can see the second he recognizes Harper. A smarmy smile spreads across his lips. I want to lean down and punch it right off. Because he’s my younger brother, Reid lifts his hand in the air and waves. “Hey, Harper. We were just admiring your legs. Rogan here in particular.”

  If all eyes weren’t pinned on us right now, I’d pick up my dick of a brother by the scruff of his neck and toss him into the fire.

  “I’m going to kill you,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “Totally worth it.” He eyes the girls again. “She’s looking at you; there’s no way you can flee now. Might as well go say hi.” He stands and moves to the side, giving me the path I so desperately wanted a minute ago.

  “Rogan, come here,” our mom calls out, now waving at me.

  And that solidifies it; there is no way I can escape now without confronting my past, unless I want to face the wrath of Mama Knightly. And given that she’s a relentless, guilt-tripping mother, I’m not up for the weeks of torture she’ll rain down upon me.

  A quick hello. That’s all.

  Irritated with my family and cursing the ball of nerves currently tightening in the pit of my stomach, I walk past Reid—but not before subtly kicking him in the shin.

  “Son of a mother—” he hisses, leaning down to rub his leg.

  “Don’t fuck with me next time,” I say from the side of my mouth.

  Adjusting my loose beanie, my hair peeking out the front, I walk the plank toward Jen, my mom, and Harper. Looking at the ground, Harper barely acknowledges me when I make it to their little circle.

  Awkwardly, I stand there, rocking on my heels, unsure of what to really say. What do you say to the love of your life, the girl you pushed away so many years ago?

  Heart still broken?

  Date anyone new?

  Still hate my guts?

  Speaking of the love of my life . . . she pushes her beautiful deep-red hair behind her ear and looks up at me through her impossibly long eyelashes. Wrapped up in a purple sweater and leggings, she hasn’t skipped a beat when it comes to her classy comfort attire. Really, she hasn’t changed a bit; her slim figure and small breasts still light a fire inside me—one I told myself was extinguished long ago.

  “Rogan, aren’t you going to say hi?” Jen chastises me. Jesus, how long have I been staring at Harper?

  Hands stuffed in my jeans pockets, I give her a small nod. “Hey, Harper, good to see you.”

  Not really. It’s not good to see her.

  It’s not good to see the way those hazel eyes stare up at me, nor the way her body language seems to speak volumes, her small movements attracting my eye to different parts of her body.

  “You too,” she answers stiffly, eyes falling to the drink in her hand. “I’m just surprised. When Jen invited me, she said you weren’t going to
be here.” She gives Jen a quick glance, letting her know she’s not happy.

  Yeah, neither am I, babe.

  “Oh yeah? You told her I wasn’t going to be here, Jen?”

  Nervously laughing, Jen takes a sip of her drink and looks between me and Harper.

  The Knightlys are meddlers; it’s one of my family’s most annoying traits. Hell, I’m guilty of meddling myself—most recently with Griffin—but I don’t ever want to be on the receiving end. I’ve always tried to skirt away, flying under the radar, never attracting attention to myself, but there’s always that one time of the year that my family is constantly in my business: when Harper comes home to visit her dad.

  But Christmas is still a few months away, so Harper’s untimely visit has my mind whirling.

  “You know, I think Zach is calling me. Do you hear him, Mom?” Jen lies, using her husband as a scapegoat.

  “What? I don’t—” My mom clues in and grins. “Oh yes, I think he’s calling the both of us.” And just like that, my mom and my sister link arms and head off toward the house, leaving me alone with Harper.

  Perfect.

  Blowing out a long breath of air, hands still in my pockets, I silently promise to get my mom and Jen back for this.

  “I’m sorry about that,” I finally say, wanting to be anywhere but here, enveloped in the achingly familiar vanilla scent of Harper’s perfume. “They haven’t been well for a while, not all mentally there.”

  Harper gives me a sad smile, hands gripping her drink, her eyes evading mine. “It’s fine. It’s probably for the best we get this awkward first sighting over with since I’m going to be here for a while.”

  Hell freezes over.

  My muscles stiffen in seconds, and my mouth goes dry.

  Did I just hear her right? She’s going to be here for a while?

  The only thing keeping me sane these last few years is the fact that Harper only comes back to Port Snow once a year, and I can easily avoid her for those few days. But now . . .

  How long is a while?

  I clear my throat. “For a while, huh?”

  She nods and finally meets my eyes. “Dad needs my help, so I came back for him.”

  Chuck Sanders is the healthiest, strongest fifty-year-old I know. His workout routine is almost better than mine. What kind of help could he possibly need? A lighthouse keeper for thirty years now, he can do his job in his sleep, which is something he’s told me more times than I can count.

  “Is your dad okay?”

  “Oh yeah, he’s fine.” She bites the side of her cheek, and I immediately know whatever she says next is going to be a lie. It’s her telltale sign. “He asked for some help with the lighthouse, that’s all.”

  There’s something she’s not telling me; it’s written all over her face. I don’t blame her, though. Why would she confide in me after the way I treated her, after the way I told her to get out of my life?

  Instead of trying to pull the truth out of her like I used to, I let the lie settle between us. “Oh, nice . . . well, tell your dad I say hi. I should probably get going.” I nod toward the house.

  She shakes her head. “You don’t have to leave on my account. This is your brother’s house; I should leave. I never should have come in the first place. I just haven’t seen Jen in a while.” She lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

  She awkwardly turns and starts to walk away. A part of me wants to stay planted where I am, let her retreating back be the last thing I remember tonight, but before I can stop myself, I chase after her and gently tug on her arm.

  “Wait.” Stunned, she turns back and looks up at me. “You don’t need to be sorry, Harper. Jen is your friend. My whole family has been a huge part of your life. Just because . . .” I swallow hard. “Just because we’re not together anymore doesn’t mean you need to isolate yourself from the Knightly family.”

  “That’s kind of you, Rogan, but I’ve lived without them for the past seven years. I think I’ll be fine.” With that, she gives me a sad parting smile and takes off toward the house, giving Jen and my mom a passing wave. They try to get her to stay, but it’s useless. Harper has made up her mind.

  Both my hands grip the back of my neck, my teeth grinding together. “Fuck,” I mutter, blowing out an angry breath.

  “That probably could have gone better,” Reid says, sidling up next to me.

  I glance at him, my fist itching to take my frustration out on someone. “I suggest you run the fuck away unless you want me to slam my fist through your skull.”

  Chuckling, Reid walks backward, hands up. “Still sour about Harper. Noted.”

  Sour doesn’t even begin to describe it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ROGAN

  Sophomore Year, High School

  “Capri Sun?” Harper asks, sitting down next to me. This time I remembered to bring a blanket, which I spread out over the sand. Forgetting one last Saturday was a huge mistake.

  “Do you even have to ask?” I hold my hand out. She reaches into the cooler and tosses one over her shoulder. I catch it with ease.

  “I only brought six, so don’t drink it all in one gulp like you usually do.”

  “You brought six? Harper, you should know by now six is never enough.”

  On her knee, she knocks the straw out of its plastic slip and sticks it into the juice bag. “I didn’t have time to go to the corner store.”

  “And here I brought extra fudge from the shop for you.”

  “That’s what best friends do; they steal stuff from their parents for each other.”

  “Yeah, and what are you stealing from your dad to hold up the best-friend responsibilities?”

  She eyes the Capri Sun in my hand. “Uh . . . bringing the drinks. It’s not my fault you have zero self-control and can’t limit your drinking habits.”

  “How long have we been friends, Harper?”

  She rolls her eyes, knowing where I’m going with this. “Four years.”

  “That’s right. And how long have we been coming to the beach every Saturday during the summer?”

  “I get it, okay. I’m responsible for drinks, you’re responsible for treats. If it makes you feel better, I brought two Gatorades as well. Lemon Lime.”

  My favorite. She knows me too well.

  “Okay, maybe you’re forgiven.”

  She chuckles and pulls her long red hair up on top of her head. From her wrist, she secures a rubber band and cinches her hair into a ponytail. I’ve seen her do it countless times, and even though I know she’s a pro, I still watch in awe.

  Harper has been in my life for as long as I can remember, but we really didn’t become best friends until sixth grade, when we were stuck doing a science project together. At first I was pissed I was paired with a girl, but what I found out quickly was Harper wasn’t your ordinary girl. Where I’d assumed she’d be girly or flirty, scared to get her hands dirty, she was the opposite. She was the first to jump in the mud and the last to clean her shoes off.

  After our science project, we were inseparable. Rogan and Harper, we’re a BOGO; if you buy one, you get one. And nothing has changed.

  Well, that’s not entirely true.

  Some things have changed, like this growing instinct I have to make sure no guy ever looks at her. Or this feeling I get in the pit of my stomach when she smiles at me. Or the racing of my heart whenever she gives me a hug. Or the spike in my blood whenever her hair whips by me, filling my nose with her sweet vanilla scent.

  Things have changed, but she doesn’t know it.

  She doesn’t know I think about her at night.

  She doesn’t know every time I’m around her, I’m tempted to hold her hand.

  And she doesn’t know I’ve thought about kissing her so many times, on days like this when the sun is beating down on us and we don’t have to worry about anything other than hanging out, eating fudge, and drinking Capri Suns.

  “When are you going back-to-school shopping?” Harper asks, burying her
toes in the sand. “School starts in just a couple weeks, you know.”

  I pop open the container of the fudge and toss a raspberry chocolate in my mouth. “Uh . . . I don’t know. Mom said she was going to take us up to Pottsmouth at some point. I need new pants badly.”

  “Yeah, you do.” Harper chuckles. “The ones you wore the other day were kissing your ankles.”

  I inwardly groan, hating that she noticed. I want to impress her, not help her realize what a dork I really am. I’m pretty sure I grew three inches this summer and put on at least ten pounds of muscle. I have plans for this new school year too, a new image. I’ve been working hard with the varsity football team the last few weeks, and I want a starting position. I’m good, really good. I just hope Coach Turner has been noticing. But even more than Coach, I just want Harper to notice me—in a different way.

  “It’s not my fault I grew this summer.”

  She assesses me, her eyes scanning from my toes to my head. “You did, didn’t you? Your legs are much longer.”

  “Checking out my legs, Harp?”

  She rolls her eyes and picks up a piece of fudge, taking little bites, which is how she always eats it. While I pop one whole piece in my mouth, she nibbles.

  “Dad is taking me on Monday. We’re going down to Bar Harbor, to some vintage places and boutiques. I’m hoping to find some cute tops that fit, stuff that not everyone has.”

  Tops that fit . . . yeah, I wasn’t the only person who grew this summer.

  Harper got boobs.

  They’re not huge like some of the girls in school, but they’re noticeable, really freaking noticeable, especially when she doesn’t wear a bra. And when it’s cold out . . . shit, her nipples don’t even pretend to hide. I know I shouldn’t stare or even notice for that matter, but it’s Harper. I spend almost every day with her; I can’t help but stare sometimes. And I can’t help it when my palms go sweaty and I can feel myself getting excited around her.

  Like right now, with the wind pushing her ponytail to the side, her lips pursed, her eyes looking out at the ocean . . . her nipples taut against her shirt. She’s so beautiful, and I hate that I’m finally starting to notice it. She’s my best friend, but I’m crushing so hard on her and have no idea what to do about it.