“Well, let’s be real, she’s probably not hanging out with the baby on her own.” Tawny glances around before she leans in closer and drops her voice. “I heard she’s been taking her car to the garage the next town over lately—Carter’s Car Repairs. You remember that place, right? Run by old man Carter?”
Allie and I both nod and mm-hmm.
“Well, apparently his son took over. Used to be the star quarterback for our rival high school team. All golden hair and blue eyes and a seriously pretty face. You remember him, right? Sterling Carter?”
“He was the only reason I bothered with the pep rallies, since our team sucked the big one,” Allie mutters.
“Right?” Tawny looks over her shoulder before she continues. “Well, there was a rumor floating around a few days ago that a tow truck was parked down the street from Sue’s house that just happened to belong to the Carters. Now, I’m not saying it’s true, but Sue and Sterling had a thing back in high school, and then when you left, she broke it off with him and tried to get with Tucker. They hooked up, but nothing came of it. Until two summers ago. They met up at one of these parties, hooked up again, and starting dating on and off. Nothing serious at first, but she kept pushing for more, and he finally asked her to move in with him. Then she got pregnant, had the baby, and now they’re both miserable.”
“I still don’t get why she’d want to be with him in the first place, especially when she knew he’d been cheating on me.” Other than the fact that she always seemed to want what I had.
“Who knows? Maybe she thought she could do what no one else could and make him be faithful to her? He was pretty broken up about it when you left, and she basically threw herself at him. I used to think maybe the cheating was because he knew you were leaving, you know? Maybe trying to prove to himself that he didn’t need you. But it just seems to be how he is. It’s pretty sad.” Allie takes a sip of her drink and makes a face while she sloshes it around, maybe to mix it up some more.
“His parents had a shitty relationship, too, so poor modeling and all that,” Tawny says. “I read an article about that. How our parents’ relationships frame our own. Makes sense that what you see is what you emulate.”
“Yeah, doesn’t excuse the serial cheating, though. And we all have the ability to break the cycle if we want to. Anyway, I feel bad for Sue, but I’m glad he’s not my problem anymore.” I hold up my glass. “To putting the past behind us.” We all clink our tumblers together, tip our heads back, and make a face on the swallow.
“Is it me, or is this getting stronger the more we drink?” I ask.
“I don’t think it’s mixed very well.”
Simultaneously, we shake our glasses, the ice clinking against the stainless steel sides, and chuckle.
“It really is good to be back, though.”
I kick at a pebble on the ground. It skips a few feet, heading toward a group of guys I used to go to high school with, one of whom is Aaron Saunders. That’s not a surprise; he always loved a good beach party. It pings off another bigger rock and bounces up, hitting a guy with his back to us in the calf.
I cringe as he turns around and adjusts the brim of his hat. Most of the guy’s face is in shadow, apart from his chin and mouth. A flash of memory from a decade ago pops like a bubble, gone before I can catch it. He flips his hat around so it’s facing backward, and I realize it’s Van. Hanging with the locals.
Tawny gives a low whistle. “Who the heck is that delicious hunk of yummy man?”
“That’s Bee’s grandson. He’s my neighbor.”
“Holy hotcakes on the griddle, he’s ridiculously gorgeous.”
“He is that. He’s got some asshole friends, though. And he can be an asshole at times too.” I say that through gritted teeth while smiling and waving at him.
He tips his head to the side, a slow half smile forming on his lips. His eyes roam over me in a leisurely sweep. He doesn’t so much as glance at Tawny or Allie. He tips his chin up in acknowledgment and then turns back to his group.
“Ooooh, looks like someone has a thing for his neighbor.” Allie elbows me in the side.
I roll my eyes. “He doesn’t have a thing for me. We can barely have a conversation without arguing.” And he seems to enjoy pushing my buttons.
“Then why is he headed this way?”
“Huh?” I glance back in his direction to find that he is most certainly headed toward us.
“Crap,” I mutter. I resist the urge to touch my hair or do any of the typical things women do when a ridiculously attractive man is approaching. It annoys me to no end that I react like this to Van. I don’t even really know him, and what I do know, I’m still on the fence about, especially after last night.
“Howdy, neighbor, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He tucks a thumb in his pocket and smiles, gaze still firmly fixed on me.
“It’s a local party and I’m a local; not sure why I wouldn’t be here.” Clearly I’m dishing out my surly tonight.
Allie coughs into her elbow, and Tawny sucks her teeth, probably trying not to laugh.
Van’s smile turns into a smirk. “You planning to police the noise and music choices?”
I don’t return the smile. “There don’t seem to be any screaming banshees around, calling people trailer trash, so it looks like I’m off duty tonight.”
He sobers. “I’m sorry about that. Monica was way out of line.”
“Nothing I haven’t heard before.” Which is true. It’s not the first time that term has been directed at me. Although usually I’m not practically in my own backyard, nor is that negative slur coming from my neighbor. It frustrates me that a place that used to be a haven of fond memories is turning into something else.
“That doesn’t make it better. She was horrified this morning, and hungover. Spent most of last night puking.”
“Is that why she isn’t gracing us with her presence tonight?”
“They took off early this morning. She wanted to go over and apologize, but it was early, and she was a hot mess. Besides, Monica is probably the shittiest apologizer in the history of the universe, so I figured it was better if she left the apologizing to me.”
I shake my head and fight a chuckle. “If you invite her back and she insults me again, I’ll probably toss her in the lake.”
“I have zero plans to invite her back. But I would pay money to see that.” He rocks back on his heels and glances to the right of me, where Allie and Tawny are raptly watching this interaction. “Oh, how rude of me.” He holds out his hand to Tawny first. “I’m Van, Dillion’s neighbor.”
“I’m Tawny and this is Allie.” She motions to her with her cup. “We’ve been friends with Dee ever since we could put two words together.”
“That’s a long time and some real devotion to the art of communication and friendship.” He nods a couple of times. “Anyway, I thought I’d come say hi. And apologize.”
“I think we’re probably even with apologies at this point.”
“Does this mean we’re calling a truce?”
“As long as you’re not hammering away on something before seven tomorrow morning and your friends aren’t calling me names, I think we’re good. And I won’t accuse you of getting my brother wasted.”
He holds out his hand, and I slip mine into his. The air around us suddenly feels charged, like the shock of a lightning bolt cutting through the sky.
Shouts and laughter draw my attention away from my suddenly charismatic attractive neighbor, and I release his hand, a shiver rushing down my spine despite the heat. I frown as I take in the scene unfolding next to the campfire. “Oh, for the love of Pete.” The end of my brother’s crutch is smoking. He stabs the bottom in the sand and stumbles forward, perilously close to the edge of the fire.
“Billy!” I call his name, but he either can’t hear me over the shouts and laughter or he’s ignoring me. “Hold this.” I pass Tawny my drink and stalk across the beach toward my brother. He loses his balance but than
kfully ends up on his ass in the sand, howling with laughter.
People move out of the way as I approach and come to a halt right beside him lying in a heap on the beach. I sincerely hope there are sand fleas crawling around in his boxers. “What’re you doing?”
“Having fun! What are you doing?” He points the slightly charred end of his crutch at me, and I lift my arm, using it as a shield to keep the crutch from smacking me in the face.
“Dude. You’re going to burn someone doing that, and if it’s me I will one hundred percent be taking my old bedroom back and I’ll be punching you in the nuts.”
“You need to loosen up, Dee. You’re more high strung than a guitar.” He bursts into overly loud laughter.
I roll my eyes and point to Tommy Westover, who’s standing off to the side with his thumbs jammed in his pockets, fighting a grin. “It’s on you to keep him out of trouble tonight.”
He shrugs. “I’ll do my best.”
When I get back to Tawny and Allie, Van is no longer with them and his friend group has moved on.
“Like hell he doesn’t have the hots for you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, and you were the same.”
“I recognize he’s nice to look at, that’s all.”
Tawny gives me a look. “Seriously? He lives right next door to you. How are you not taking advantage of that situation?”
“I don’t even like him.”
“You don’t have to like him to ride him.”
“What if he’s a terrible lay and I’m stuck living next door to him until he finally decides to sell?”
Allie arches a brow. “The more important question is, what if he’s not?”
CHAPTER 13
THE HUNTING CABIN
Dillion
An hour later I have to break the seal. Allie was not wrong about the state of the bathrooms, so I follow her lead and prop myself up against a tree. This is about the only time I wish I had a penis instead of a vagina.
I’m on my way back to Tawny and Allie when a flash of lightning brightens the beach and the sky opens up. It’s like that here sometimes. One minute it’s calm and balmy, the next you’re in the middle of a torrential downpour.
In under a minute the campfire, which was raging, becomes embers, a plume swirling up to caress the sky with smoky fingers, leaving the beach murky and dark. The other side of the lake is dotted with lights, some brightening the fronts of the massive homes, their windows iris-less eyes.
People run in every direction, seeking refuge from the deluge coming from the sky. I can’t see more than a few feet in front of me. Which is how I wind up running right into a huge, hard body.
I topple backward, landing in the sand with a thud. I grunt when the body I ran into lands on top of me, almost knocking the wind out of me. Aside from the heavy weight, I’m blanketed by warmth and protected from the pouring rain.
“Shit. Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there. Are you okay?” Warm, humid breath that smells faintly of mint washes over my face, and the low, gruff tone sends a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with the fact that I’m lying on the cold ground, or that I’m soaking wet.
“Van?”
“Dillion?” He pushes up onto his forearms, body still hovering over me, legs bracketing mine.
Of course he has to be the one I run into in the middle of a freaking storm, especially when not that long ago I was discussing whether he’d be good in bed and what the pros and cons were to finding something like that out. I still maintain that the cons would outweigh the pros.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“I can’t see more than a couple of feet in front of me.” He scrambles to his knees and holds out a hand.
“Me either.” I accept his offer of assistance. My hair is plastered to my head, and I’m seriously hoping I used the waterproof mascara, or I’m going to look like a cracked-out football player soon. I glance around the beach, but it’s impossible to see anything apart from Van, who’s directly in front of me. “I should find my brother.”
“I think everyone’s gone?” It’s framed as a question. “I don’t know my way around here, so I’m not sure how to get back to the parking lot,” he admits.
“It probably won’t last long. Come on. I know a place we can wait it out.” I grab his hand as a crack of lightning lights up the beach, helping guide me toward the break in the trees.
“Is it a good idea to be running through the forest during a thunderstorm?” Van yells, fingers gripping mine tightly.
“We’re not going far, and it’s better than being on the beach,” I shout back.
I take him down the trail that runs from the beach to the abandoned hunting cabin. It’s closer than my truck. The brush has grown in since the last time I used it, disuse causing the weeds to sprout up and the trees to bend in.
The rain isn’t as heavy under the canopy, so it’s easier to navigate the narrow path. Van stumbles a couple of times on tree roots, so I fish around in my jeans for my phone and turn on the flashlight.
The cabin comes into view as another rumble of thunder makes the ground vibrate. I move the planter over a few inches and cross my fingers that the key hasn’t disappeared in the years since I’ve last been here. I heave a sigh of relief when my fingers close around the cold metal.
I hold the flashlight to the door and slide the key in the lock. It wouldn’t be hard to actually break down the door, but then it would mean that this place would be open to the rodents and animals living outside. Not that there probably aren’t rodents living in here already, but I don’t want to make it any easier for them than it has to be.
I have to jiggle the key a few times, but I finally get it to turn. I also have to bang the door with my shoulder to get it to open. I stumble a step or two, and Van follows me in, shutting the door behind him and sealing us off from the rain.
The tiny cabin creaks with the howling wind, but it’s warmer and drier in here than it is out there.
“What the hell is this place?” Van turns on the flashlight on his phone and moves it around the room, his expression a mix of curiosity, confusion, and trepidation.
“It’s an old hunting cabin.”
The place doesn’t have much in the way of space or furniture. There’s an old rusted-out bunk bed with waterproof mattresses covering the bunks and rolled-up sleeping bags set on top. Everything is roughed in; there’s no drywall, just boards and wooden studs. In the corner is a small table and two chairs. An old Coke crate is turned upside down to function as a kind of counter, holding a small washbasin.
“It hasn’t changed since the last time I was here.”
“This looks like the set of a slasher movie. Did you toss the bodies of poor unsuspecting vacationers in the lake when you were done with them?”
I roll my eyes. “The only thing that’s died in here are probably some mice, and a lot of flies.” At least judging from the extensive network of cobwebs lining the ceiling, almost like insulation. “I used to come here when I was a teenager and wanted to escape the world. I’d bring sleeping bags—not so I could sleep here, but the mattresses are foam covered in plastic and not very comfortable.”
“What did you do when you were here? Is this, like, a teenager love shack? Did you bring your boyfriend here?”
I snort. “No. I came here alone. I was the only one who knew about it. And I used to read or write in a journal. Very typical teenage-girl things.”
“Huh.” He tucks his hands in his pockets. “Are there lights in this place?”
I chuckle. “No, Van. No lights. This is as rustic as it gets out here. Makes my trailer look like a luxury resort, huh?” There’s bite in my words, mostly because I’m still miffed that his friend called me trailer trash.
“Your trailer is retro.”
I give him a look that he probably can’t see thanks to the lack of lighting in here. “There’s duct tape holding some of the windows together.”
“Have you seen Bee’s cottage? When I f
irst got here, I almost fell through the deck.”
“I guess that explains the hammering at ten at night.”
“I figured I should fix it before someone got a board in the face.”
We listen to the rain batter the roof. Drops fall from the ceiling onto the top of the bunk bed, which explains the water pooling there. It’s musty and dank, but at least it’s mostly dry.
I pull out a chair and run a finger across the seat. It’s covered in a thick layer of dust, but I’m already wearing sand from the beach and this outfit is destined for the wash, so I drop into it anyway.
He pulls out the other chair and makes a face but sits down. “What’s the deal with that Tucker guy? The one in real estate. You two a thing?”
“He’s my high school ex. I’d rather drink shots of vinegar than be in a thing with him again.”
Van props his elbows on the table and folds his hands together so he can rest his chin on them. “So he’s local?”
“Yeah. As local as they get.”
He nods. “I think I might remember him from when I used to visit in the summers. Maybe I saw him around town? Or at the beach parties. Like this one.”
“It’s likely. He went to a lot of them.”
He tips his head to the side. “With you?”
“Not usually.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm, what?” The way he’s looking at me is unnerving.
“I find that interesting, is all. So there’s no chance you’re getting back together with him?”
“Why would you ask me that?”
“Just curious, I guess. He was once your type.”
“Well, he’s not anymore.” I can’t tell if he’s trying to push my buttons or what right now.
He nods once and looks away, eyes skimming over the cabin before they land on me. “That’s good. You deserve better than that jackass.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t have to know you to know it’s the truth. Besides, Grammy Bee always had nice things to say about you, and I trust her judgment.”
I smile at that. “She couldn’t stand Tucker. She probably asked me a million times what the heck I was doing with him.”
Love Next Door Page 13
