Starting From Scratch (Starting From Series Book 2)

by Lane Hayes

  “Oh. I wonder what I am.”

  “You’re just you.” When his shoulders fell, I quickly added, “You get to be anything you want to be, Ol.”

  “I don’t know what I want to be.”

  “What do you like to do?”

  “Draw.”

  “Maybe you’re an artist,” I said.

  “That’s what my dad thinks. He told me I could make a logo for his new movie. There’s a safari scene, and he said I could make the design for the Jeep. I think I’m gonna do something with all the animals and make the giraffe stick up in the back.” Oliver circled his hands expressively, squinting as though he could see the design in his head.

  “Wow. You’re lucky. That sounds very cool.”

  “Yeah. My dad is cool. I don’t see him a lot, but he comes up with good ideas.”

  “Is he traveling for work?” I asked.

  “Not this week. But he has a new boyfriend, and Giorgio’s a weirdo. He always tries to steal Dad’s attention. He’s immature, but he’s old.”

  “How old?”

  “Twenty-six.”

  “That old, eh?”

  “Yeah. Older than Charlie, and Charlie says I don’t have to hang around him if I don’t want to. He thinks I should stick up for my rights.”

  I pursed my lips to keep my smile in check and nodded. “Charlie’s pretty smart.”

  “He’s super smart,” Ollie agreed as he stood. “Want to go to the park now?”

  “Sure. Hey, um…I have a strange question. When Charlie’s mad or sad for some reason, what makes him feel better?”

  I withered under Oliver’s penetrating stare until I was pretty damn close to his height. I felt a palpable sense of relief when he smiled.

  “Make him laugh. Show him something funny, and he’ll forget why he’s mad,” he assured me. “Works every time.”

  “Good to know.”

  “What’d you do?” he asked suspiciously.

  “I didn’t say I did anything.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, do you like him?” He cocked his head.

  “Of course I do.” I cleared my throat and jumped on my board before he could begin any major questioning. Then I motioned for Oliver to follow me. “Let’s go while we still have daylight, Ol!”

  I wracked my brain for humorous stories or a funny joke to tell Charlie when he came by to get Oliver later. But Gray ended up taking him home instead. I was bummed at first, but I probably needed to put some real thought into it. A joke had to be pretty damn hysterical for it to be memorable. This felt like a “go big or go home” moment.

  I slowed to a stop at a red light on my way home later that night and adjusted the volume on an AC/DC classic before setting my phone on speaker mode.

  “Siri, give me some good prank ideas.”

  “Prank ideas? All right…”

  I snickered at a few G-rated suggestions, then turned my radio up and lost myself in music as I made my way across town toward the beach. When I pulled into the alley behind my house an hour later, my head was all over the place…dinner, a new bass riff I wanted to try, and the list of goodies I needed for my prank. Funny enough, I didn’t think about family stuff until I turned off the engine and glanced at the missed text on my cell.

  Hello Kyle, Karly said you’d meet me to chat about your father. How about this Saturday at 9pm at the BJ’s on Broxton? Please advise. Mona

  The family fun continued. Fuck.

  Practical jokes weren’t really my thing. They took too much time and effort to plan, and they didn’t always go so well. This one definitely wouldn’t, but I figured once Charlie got over being pissed, he’d laugh. Maybe. I hoped. Okay, it wasn’t much of a plan, but it was worth a shot.

  I shoved the wrappers and the plastic CVS bag in my truck along with the mile-long receipt, then cast my gaze up and down the quiet palm-lined street before eyeing my handiwork. Fucking genius. Damn, I wished I could hide in the bushes and record his reaction. Knowing Charlie, it would be epic. I chuckled softly as I made my way along the path at the side of Justin and Gray’s house, leading to the rear of the property.

  Justin gave us each the code to the guest wing of the sprawling residence months ago, so we’d have access to the studio without having to walk through the house to get there. It made sense, but in the beginning, I was sure someone would call the cops on me ’cause I definitely didn’t look like I belonged in this neighborhood. Movie stars and music execs lived in this section of Hollywood Hills. Their homes were architectural marvels with subterranean garages and spectacular views of LA, strategically hidden behind giant palms and eucalyptus trees. The kind of homes I’d only seen in magazines.

  I squinted against the late-morning glare as I rounded the perimeter to the yard. Sunlight glittered off the pool like diamonds, blinding me for a moment. I noted the bright pink towel draped over the lounge chair near the hot tub as I entered the code on the pad next to the glass-and-steel door. I stepped into the circular foyer separating the main living space from the music wing and spotted Charlie at the end of the hallway, animatedly chatting on his cell.

  I gave him a friendly wave before making my way down a narrow hallway to the studio, ignoring the steady thump of my heart. I tried to chalk it up to an almost childlike anticipation, but I knew it was just Charlie. Something was definitely going on in my head…and my body. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Scratch that…obsessing over him.

  One epic prank and we’d go back to normal.

  Justin and Johnny glanced up from their guitars and nodded in acknowledgment when I walked in. Justin hummed a tune while Johnny fiddled with complementary notes. I shrugged off my plaid shirt and draped it over the sofa, then headed for the wall of instruments to grab my bass and join them. I perched on one of the stools in the center of the room and found my opening in a new song Justin had introduced to us the day before.

  “…want to tell you how I feel. Want to make this something—”

  “Do not say ‘real,’ ” Tegan interjected from the doorway.

  Justin flipped him off and continued singing, “…something real-ly special.”

  Johnny and I groaned in unison.

  “Fuck off. It rhymes. We’re keeping it,” Justin said, pausing to give Tegan an annoyed once-over. “You’re late.”

  “Don’t start on me. It’s been a rough morning.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Boy trouble, eh?” Justin strummed a few chords and inclined his head. “I hate to say I told you so, but…”

  “Then don’t,” Tegan huffed irritably before pulling his sweatshirt over his head and tossing it toward the sofa.

  “Hey, you knew it wasn’t gonna last, T. That’s why you didn’t want us to meet him. I don’t blame you for breaking it off. If you’re not getting what you want in bed, what’s the point?” Justin asked.

  “Amen!” Charlie agreed as he sailed into the room.

  “I thought you left half an hour ago,” Justin said.

  Charlie set his hands on his hips and flashed a mischievous look. “I forgot something. But I’m off now. Do you need anything from me before I go? M&M’s, Cracker Jacks, Coca-Colas? Speak up now or text me later.”

  “How about Otter Pops?” I blurted out of the fucking blue.

  Charlie frowned. “Ew. Who over the age of five says that?”

  I met his faux-stern look with a slow-growing Cheshire cat grin. He almost immediately thawed. A reluctant smile teased the corner of his mouth, lit his eyes, then disappeared so fast, I was sure I’d imagined the exchange. I studied him for clues, noting his perfectly pressed khakis rolled at the hems, his snug-fitted blue-and-white striped oxford shirt, and a pair of funky black-and-white sneakers. One shoe had a cartoon man with a beard and the other said, “The Game Changer.” I chuckled softly and raised my brows, knowing somehow that he’d probably made his purchase after I told him it was “game on” in front of Scoops a few weeks ago.

  “Cool shoes.” I pursed my lips
and gestured at his feet.

  “Thank you. I wore them just for you,” he said in a low tone.

  “I thought so.”

  He furrowed his brow and hiked his thumb toward the door. “I’m off. See ya!”

  I mumbled a good-bye with everyone else and kept my eyes locked on the space he vacated for a couple of seconds.

  Tegan bumped my shoulder as he headed for his drums. “I saw the car. And he either saw it and came in here to give you a non-verbal warning before he retaliates or he’s about to see it…and go ballistic. Be afraid. Be very very afraid.”

  I jumped off the stool, put my bass on a stand, and hurried after Charlie, calling a distracted “Be right back” to the band before racing down the hallway.

  I caught up with him just as he stepped outside. “Char, wait up!”

  He turned with an expectant half smile, then dug into his bag and pulled out a large bottle of Perrier. “What is it?”

  “Um. I just wanted to be sure we’re cool.”

  “Why wouldn’t we be?” he asked.

  “You tell me. You said we’d go back to normal on Monday, but it’s Thursday now and nothing is normal. I hate being ignored.”

  Charlie narrowed his eyes. “I’m not ignoring you. We’re perfectly fine. I’m cool if you’re cool.”

  I put my hands up. “I’m cool.”

  “Good. Me too. Perfectly, fabulously cool.” He furrowed his brow as he made a production of twisting the bottle cap. “I just can’t get this…darn thing off.”

  “Do you need help with that?”

  Charlie smiled sweetly before handing over the bottle of Perrier. Warning signs flashed like neon lights around me. Something was wrong with this whole situation, starting with the fact that he was being so…nice. I studied him suspiciously as I twisted the cap. He seemed normal. He looked normal…well, normal for Charlie. He inched away when the bottle began to fizz. And then—

  Bam! Perrier rained down on me like a freak monsoon in the desert.

  I had to give him credit…Charlie was a decent actor. He covered his mouth, managing to look surprised and remorseful, but his twinkling eyes gave him away. It took me half a second to realize the little fucker had done this on purpose, but when I did, I aimed it directly at his chest.

  Charlie dropped his bag and gaped at me in shock. “You…look what you did.”

  “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? Look what you did!”

  “It’s called sweet revenge. You covered my windshield in Post-it notes!”

  “It was a joke. This is a direct attack,” I growled.

  “It’s water, baby,” he chided.

  “Bubbly water is fucking gross.” I shook the excess moisture from my head and stepped forward. “Where’s your phone?”

  Charlie furrowed his brow. “In my bag. Why? Do not throw it in the pool.”

  “I would never throw your phone in the pool.” I dropped my cell on top of his man bag as a precautionary measure before slowly closing the distance.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Think about what?”

  “I’m serious, Ky.” He backed up and glanced over his shoulder, then fixed me with a stern look. “I don’t have time to—”

  I pushed. Before I could step aside, he reached for my arm and took me with him.

  Splash.

  I opened my eyes underwater and noticed a few things at once, like Charlie’s golden curls, his wicked grin, and the death grip he had on my wrist. So he wanted to play. I pulled him with me to the surface and gave him a chance to suck in a breath of fresh air before taking him down again. He rolled over me and grasped at the waistband of my board shorts. They hung low on my hips to begin with so his tug, combined with the natural pull of the water, exposed half of my ass. I couldn’t retaliate in the same way because his clothes were plastered to his body. But I couldn’t just let go. I circled my right arm around his middle and held him against my chest before surfacing again.

  Charlie sputtered and coughed. He hooked his left arm around my neck and swiped at his eyes with his free hand. I should have let go. He knew how to swim. He didn’t need me to save him. He didn’t need me at all. But he didn’t seem like he was in a hurry to go anywhere. Probably another sign of danger.

  I ignored the cautionary voices and let my senses take over, noting a whole new set of details I’d somehow overlooked…like the flecks of green and gray in his eyes and the lone freckle on his nose. And his lips…guys weren’t supposed to have lips like that. Full and plump and pretty. I gulped when he stuck his tongue out and licked the seam. Holy fuck. My dick throbbed against the Velcro opening of my shorts as I met his gaze, leaned in, and sealed my mouth over his. I angled my head when he sighed, then pushed my tongue between his lips.

  He tightened his hold around my neck and moaned into the connection. He twisted his tongue feverishly with mine before nipping my chin and licking my jawline, then plunging inside again. I slipped a finger in his belt loop, splayed my hand over his ass, and humped his pelvis. My wet swim trunks and his thin khaki pants left nothing to the imagination. I could feel the outline of his dick as it slid against mine in the water. Fuck, he felt amazing. I couldn’t get enough. I lost all sense of time and propriety as we licked and sucked at each other while grinding manically in a quest for friction.

  Charlie broke for air. “You kissed me.”

  “Yeah, well…you kissed me too,” I replied like a real lame-ass.

  He frowned. “We’re uneven ag—”

  I covered his mouth before he could finish his sentence, wrapping my hand around his nape and flicking the corner of his lips before sucking his tongue. Charlie responded thrust for thrust, running his fingers along my spine, then slipping his hand under my trunks to trace my crack and squeeze my ass.

  I was hard as a fucking rock now and dizzy with desire. I knew what I wanted, but nothing about our current situation, including the guy in my arms, made it easy. I pulled back and tried to wade through my options, quickly realizing I had none. Zilch. If nothing else, I’d just added twenty new problems to my ever-growing list. Make that twenty-one, I thought as Charlie fell sideways and dragged me underwater again.

  We wrestled like a couple of feral sea lions fighting for dominance. He clutched my ass while I held his shoulders to keep him from nipping any available skin. We willfully ignored the frantic sexual energy between us as we tumbled in a circle, pushing and pulling at each other as though we could decide if we wanted to inflict pleasure or pain.

  Until Charlie bit me.

  I shoved him away and slapped my hand over my neck. “Fuck, that hurt.”

  “It was supposed to hurt!” Charlie snapped. “What were you doing?”

  I gaped incredulously. “Defending myself. I couldn’t tell if you were trying to fuck me or kill me, you little shit.”

  “Dream on. I don’t want your dick anywhere near me.”

  “Liar,” I taunted.

  Charlie pushed me away and slipped under the water before resurfacing a few feet away, coughing like he’d swallowed half the pool. I curbed my eye roll, then swam to the side, and hopped out. I toed off my wet Vans, yanked my T-shirt over my head, and twisted the cotton, wringing water from it aggressively while I waited for Charlie to make the next move, ’cause I sure as fuck didn’t know what to do now.

  “We can call it even as soon as you remove the sticky notes from my car and say a penance for the poor tree you sacrificed.” He hoisted himself over the edge of the pool and lay on his back with one arm in the water and the other spread out dramatically beside him.

  “No. Take the Post-its off yourself. And you’re welcome. Those fuckers come in handy,” I assured him with a humorless half laugh.

  Charlie sat up and gritted his teeth. “You better take them off.”

  “Are you talking about my shorts?” I turned around and lowered my trunks and shook my bare ass, then refastened the Velcro and double-knotted the drawstring.

  “You are a fuckin
g child,” he snarled.

  “And you’re a fucking pain in the ass,” I retorted. “Look at us!”

  He sprang to his feet, pointing his finger menacingly. I expected him to yell, but he wilted like a flower. I might have imagined it, but I think he teared up and changed the game all over again.

  “I know,” he said softly, trembling when a cool wind kicked up. “Look, we should stay away from each other for a little while.”

  “No,” I replied firmly. “I don’t want to stay away from you. And how would we do that anyway? We work together.”

  “I don’t know. I tried to keep my distance this week, but…I can’t do it without acting like a jerk. I’m so bad at holding things inside. I’m about to blow my fucking lid,” he growled in frustration.

  I widened my eyes. “You mean there’s more to come?”

  Charlie snickered and something in his eyes melted. And yeah, he looked like a fucking angel. “Maybe. I’m…a little overwhelmed. And I’m cold.”

  I pulled him into my arms unthinking and kissed his cheek. “Stay here. I’ll grab the towel from that chair.”

  “That’s okay. I need to change.”

  “Right. Um, do you think Gray has a pair of trunks I can borrow?”

  “Yeah. We can throw those in the dryer. Follow me.”

  Charlie turned on his squeaky sneakers and sashayed to the far end of the yard, pausing a couple of times to pluck the damp fabric from his skin. When he reached the sliding glass door to the kitchen, he unbuttoned his oxford shirt, then glanced over his shoulder, holding my gaze as he pulled it off one arm at a time. He had to be ten times more uncomfortable than me in his wet designer duds, so it wasn’t a particularly sexy maneuver. But dammit, he was beautiful. Smooth skin, pretty hair and eyes and—I stopped in my tracks when he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his khakis.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I can’t go in the house like this. I’ll drip everywhere. No one’s home. Gray’s at a meeting, and the band is in the studio.” He shot a challenging look at me. “Take yours off too. I won’t look.”

  I gaped at him comically and craned my neck inside the kitchen. The coast was clear. And if he didn’t care about being caught bare-ass naked, I didn’t either. I was probably the least modest person on the planet. Though Charlie might be second. I gulped when he met my gaze as he lowered his khakis and boxer briefs over his ass. Then he turned around and pushed the wet fabric down his legs. He held on to the doorjamb to toe off his sneakers. Or attempt to take them off.