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Truth Game : Ocean Bay #3

Page 7

by Chloe Walsh


  "No, baby," Dad replied sadly. "I can't see them."

  The doorbell rang and my heart rate skyrocketed.

  "That's him now," I whisper-hissed, pointing towards the front door. "Please be nice."

  Not bothering to hide his reluctance, my father took his time opening the door, pausing to check the time on his watch in the process.

  "Dad!"

  "I'm getting to it, Molly-Sue."

  "Well, get there faster. Please."

  "For what it's worth, I really don't think this is a good –"

  "Dad!"

  "Fine, fine."

  When the door finally opened inwards, and I was faced with my childhood best friend standing on my doorstep, in a tuxedo no less, the air left my lungs in an audible whoosh.

  "Mr. Peterson." Daryl's attention shifted to me and his entire posture changed. "Holy fu…" Nostrils flaring, his eyes burned with heat and affection. "Hey, Molls." He cleared his throat and tugged at his bowtie. "You look beautiful."

  "Hey, D." Whatever nerves I had managed to wrangle in went haywire the second he put his eyes on me. "Thanks. So, do you."

  His biceps and broad chest looked incredible in the crisp white shirt he was wearing. He was minus a jacket which only meant that his muscular physique was emphasized even further by the vest sewn to his big body. Disturbingly, I had a brief moment where I contemplated what it would feel to be pressed beneath that big body again.

  Over and over again…

  Down girl!

  "Daryl," my father acknowledged with a weary sigh, dragging me from my thoughts, as he closed the door behind him. "You've come back."

  "Yes, sir," Daryl confirmed, jaw ticking, stepping around my father and moving straight for me. "I have."

  Silence enveloped the room as both men stared at each other.

  "Where's your head at tonight, son?" my father broke the silence by asking.

  "It's on straight, sir."

  "You sure about that?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Let's hope so." My father nodded stiffly. There wasn't any severe tension emanating from my father, just a mixture of sadness and defeat. "For my daughter's sake."

  "Huh?" I frowned, confused by their interaction. "What are y'all talking about?"

  "Nothing," they both said in unison, as Daryl slipped a white rose corsage onto my wrist. "We should get going."

  "Okay."

  "Well, be safe, Jack and Diane."

  "Who?" we asked in unison.

  "I was referencing a John Mellencamp song…" My father began to explain, shaking his head. "Oh, never mind. I can see my attempt at humor has been wasted on millennials."

  "Generation Z," Daryl said flatly, moving for the door.

  "Yeah," I agreed, following him outside. "We're Gen Z's, Dad."

  "Worse again," Dad muttered, waving us off.

  "Daryl," my father called out when we reached the truck. "Protect my daughter."

  Holding the passenger door open for me, Daryl nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir."

  21 Daryl

  "What was that about?" Molly asked when we were both inside my truck, on the way to the country club hotel that was hosting the dance.

  She looked fucking amazing in the lacy white dress she had on, and if it hadn't been for that horrible interaction with her father back at the house, I would have been in a better mental place to appreciate just how beautiful my date was.

  "What was what about?" I replied, shifting around uncomfortably.

  "That weird conversation between you and my dad."

  "It was nothing," I lied through my teeth by saying, feeling my good mood darken and deflate.

  "Nothing?" she pressed.

  Protect my daughter, her father had warned.

  In other words, keep your mouth shut…

  "That's what I said."

  "Why don't I believe you?"

  "Hell, I don't know, Molly." Releasing a frustrated growl, I slammed my hand down on the wheel. "I ain't a goddamn mind-reader, you know."

  "Do you think I'm hard of hearing, D?"

  "What?" I frowned in confusion. "No, of course not."

  "Then why are you raising your voice to me?"

  "I wasn't…" Was I? Fuck. "I'm sorry."

  "Contrary to the other girls you're clearly used to spending your time with, I catch on pretty quickly," she shot back, turning in her seat to face me. "Which means that I know there was some hidden meaning behind that conversation between you and my father back at the house."

  A vein ticked in my neck, but I didn't respond.

  "Are you going to tell me what's going on or not?" she pushed, arms folding across her chest.

  "Not."

  Because I don't want to lie to you…

  "What did we say about telling each other the truth, Daryl?"

  Trust me, Dolly, you don't want my truth…

  Shaking my head, I pulled into the parking lot of the country club and circled around until I found a parking spot.

  Killing the engine, I kept my hands on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead, unable to look her in the eyes.

  "What you saw back there was your father just trying to protect you," I finally said.

  "Protect me from what?"

  I turned to look at her. "From me, Dolly."

  "Because…" she drawled, willing me to give her the answers she was chasing.

  I shrugged. "Because spending time with me could get you hurt."

  She was quiet for a long moment, brown eyes locked on mine, as she mulled my words over.

  "Oh my god," she finally said with a small shake of her head. "He got to you, didn't he?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Jesus, I'm right." Groaning, she pressed a hand to her forehead. "The morning after we spent the night together… Dad told me that he showed you to the door –" Her words trailed off as her brain went into overdrive, "And right afterwards you started avoiding me…" She shook her head again. "He warned you off, didn't he? That's why you ghosted me. Why you were cruel at your house that day?" Her eyes widened. "That's why you said that you were trying to do the right thing! Because my father told you not to hang around with me!"

  "It's a little more complicated than that, but yeah." I hated myself for giving this girl half-truths when she deserved nothing but full disclosure from me, but the alternative… Fuck, the alternative turned my blood to ice in my veins. "He doesn't want you to get hurt."

  "Because of Alabama State?" she demanded, looking incensed. "Because you're going off to college next fall to play football?"

  I nodded stiffly. "Amongst other things."

  "And you believed him?" She looked so hurt. "You believed that I was going to fall apart when you left town next summer?"

  "No, Molly, it's not that simple –"

  "You thought that I was so emotionally fragile it was better to avoid me altogether than give me false hope?" Shaking her head, she released a humorless laugh. "God. I am not that pathetic."

  "I didn't say that –"

  "Whatever, D," she grumbled, unfastening her seatbelt and climbing out of the truck. "He had no right to warn you off like that and you had no right to believe him."

  "Molly –"

  "You should have come to me, D. If you had doubts then you should have spoken to me about it, not my father!"

  With that, she slammed the door of my truck and walked away.

  Throwing my head back, I hissed, "Fuck!"

  22 Molly

  I had learned three valuable pieces of information about the men in my life tonight.

  First: Rourke Owens was a know-it-all asshole.

  Second: my father was fast becoming one of those interfering helicopter parents.

  And third: Daryl King was the breaker of hearts.

  My heart, to be exact.

  Okay, so maybe the breaker of hearts was a little dramatic, but he was definitely the keeper of secrets.

  Daryl and I had spent every waking hour together for the best
part of two freaking months and not once in that whole time had he mentioned his altercation with my father.

  "I didn't tell you about it because I didn't want to cause trouble between you and your father," he admitted, falling into step beside me as I power walked through the parking lot. "I didn't have any bad intentions. And yeah, I screwed up by listening to him, but we're past that now."

  "Are we?"

  "The last two months say we are."

  "We're supposed to be best friends," I bit out, wrapping my arms around my middle. "Best friends tell each other everything."

  "Fine," he countered, invading my personal space. "Listen as I tell you how incredibly fucking gorgeous you look tonight." He blew out a breath. "My heart all but stopped in my damn chest when I saw you in your daddy's foyer."

  "Don't even try to pull that boost-my-confidence crap with me right now, doofus," I huffed, shaking off his arm when he attempted to drape it over my shoulder. "I see right through you, remember?"

  "I'm being honest here…" He chuckled when I once again avoided his arm drop. "And I ain't doing this with you, Molls."

  "Doing what?"

  "Fighting with you on our first date."

  I gaped at him. "We are not on a date."

  "Are you sure you got your period math right, Dolly?" He arched a brow. "Because you're acting hella hormonal right now."

  I gasped. "You did not just say that!"

  "Don't hold out on me, baby mama," he continued to taunt and goad me, loud enough for the people standing outside of the country club to hear. "I'll take good care of you and little Daryl Junior. Hell, I'll even make an honest woman out of –"

  "People are staring," I whisper-hissed, feeling dozens of pairs of eyes on my face, as I upped my pace, practically jogging towards the door now. "You asshole!"

  "Don't run in heels, Dolly," he called after me. "You might trip up and hurt our baby."

  "Oh my god!" Stopping in the doorway, I swung around to glare at him. "Take me home. Take me home right this second, Daryl King."

  He laughed.

  In.

  My.

  Face.

  "Oh, you think I'm kidding?" Narrowing my eyes, I smoothed a hand up his chest before sliding my fingers under the opening and pinching his nipple. "Take. Me. Home." I ordered, forcing him backwards towards the parking lot. It was either walk or lose a nipple. "Now, doofus."

  "I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he yelped, backing all the way up until he fell back against what I thought I recognized as Rourke's parked SUV. "Damn, Dolly. I'm gonna bruise like shit after this."

  "Good," I growled, pinching down even harder. In the blink of an eye, Daryl broke free from my hold and twisted us both around. "I hope it leaves a mark."

  With the roles reversed, he pressed me up against the SUV and closed the space between us. "Oh, you've already left a mark, Molls," he said, tipping my chin up with his thumb and forefinger. "Believe me."

  My heart thundered violently in my chest as he pinned me to the side of the SUV. "Wh-what are you doing, D?" I breathed, pulse fluttering right along with everything south of my navel.

  "I don't know anymore, Dolly." His green eyes were filled with tenderness as his big hands trailed up and down my sides before settling on my hips. "I really don't."

  "You don’t know what, D?" I breathed, pulse racing frantically.

  "How I make this any clearer for you," he whispered.

  And then he lowered his face to mine and kissed me.

  23 Daryl

  This girl twisted me up in so many knots, I knew I could never be untangled from her.

  Fuck if I knew what I was doing anymore.

  We'd gone from laughing, to fighting, to whatever the fuck this was in a matter of minutes.

  With her body crushed to the side of Rourke's overly exuberant Range Rover, I continued to kiss her like I was starved for oxygen and her lips were the only viable life source available.

  I might have started this kiss, but Molly sure as hell wasn't stopping it.

  "D," she breathed into my mouth, reaching up to yank on my neck and bring my body closer to hers.

  I couldn't stop touching her, tasting, her, fucking reveling in the feel of her tight little body flush against me, and how amazing it felt when she flicked her tongue against mine as she kissed me back almost violently.

  "I love you," I blurted out against her bruised lips and then mentally kicked my own ass when she turned to stone in my arms.

  Too fast.

  Too goddamn fast, asshole…

  "Kissing me like this," I hurried to add, trailing a blaze of hot kisses up her swanlike neck. "I love you kissing me like this. Feels so damn good, Dolly."

  Slowly, she relaxed in my arms again and I mentally sagged in relief.

  "I love you," she whispered, pulling my mouth back down to hers. "Kissing me like this, too, D."

  Fuck.

  My hands moved of their own accord, tracing every faint curve and groove of her beautiful body. The lace of her dress only enhanced the feeling as all five of my senses went into overdrive.

  "Are they doing it?"

  "Omigod, is he fucking her?"

  "Hell yeah, King. You the man!"

  "Is that Rourke Owens' Rover?"

  "Woohoo, bro. Tap that ass!"

  Tearing her mouth away from me, Molly exhaled a ragged breath. "Are they talking about us?"

  "Who the hell cares? I've wanted to kiss these lips every day since I last tasted them," I confessed, leaning in to kiss her once more before breaking apart to catch my breath. "You're so fucking perfect, it hurts."

  Molly looked a little dazed as she stared up at me, all wide eyed and flushed cheeks. "Best friends aren't supposed to kiss like this."

  "Yeah? Well, going by that theory, best friends aren't supposed to fuck either, but that's exactly what we're doing later."

  "Wow." Her eyes widened for the briefest moment before a huge smile spread across her face. "I can't believe you actually said that out loud."

  "Neither can I." I shrugged sheepishly. "To be honest, I thought I said that last part in my head."

  "Nope." Stifling a groan, Molly buried her face in my chest. "You said it loud and proud."

  "Don't tell me you're going shy on me?"

  "Well, it's weirder this time," she admitted, keeping her face buried in my chest. "We don't have alcohol to blame for the lines we just blurred, and I'm just about out of reasons and excuses to stop this."

  "Then how 'bout we stop making excuses and blame feelings instead?"

  "Feelings?"

  Nodding, I traced my thumb over the curve of her cheek and leaned closer, brow resting against hers. "I don't know about you, but I can't seem to control a thing my feelings do lately."

  "I know what you mean." She blew out a shaky breath. "Damn those pesky feelings."

  "I want this, Molly," I came right out and said, more like fucking blurted, as I stared down at the only girl I'd ever caught feelings for. "You. Me. I want us to be –"

  "Well, there the fuck you are!" A familiar voice boomed through the air moments before the owner of said voice came into view. "It's about damn time you showed up. We've been looking all over for you."

  "Reebo?" I frowned, turning to look at my friend, who was being flanked by Bear. "Y'all okay?"

  "We are," Reebo answered. "But Rourke sure as shit won't be once he sees who Britt invited tonight."

  At the sound of Britt's name, Molly tensed beside me.

  "What did she do now?" I demanded, more than just done with the horrible fucking girl my friend just couldn't seem to shake.

  I couldn't fucking stand her.

  No joke.

  The girl made my skin crawl.

  "She came with Daniel Westbrook," Bear said flatly.

  My eyes widened. "You're fucking kidding me!"

  "Wish we were," Reebo said. His dark eyes flicked to Molly and he smiled. "Sorry to interrupt your date, darlin'."

  "We're not on a date," Moll
y replied, cheeks glowing, dropping my hand like it had burned her.

  I rolled my eyes and snatched her hand back up. "Yeah, we damn well are."

  "No, we're not," Molly continued to protest.

  "Don’t listen to her. Her pregnancy hormones are going wild –"

  "Daryl!" Molly squealed, looking appalled.

  "Hush, baby mama," I shot back before turning my attention back to the guys. "Now tell me, does Rourke know that Westbrook's here yet?"

  Bear arched a brow. "Do you see any blood shed?"

  Fair point.

  "Who's Daniel Westbrook?" Molly asked.

  "The team we played tonight – the Jefferson Jaguars? He's their QB1," I explained. "He also happens to be the guy Britt cheated on Rourke with."

  "On numerous occasions," Bear offered with a grimace.

  "There's some serious bad blood between those two," Bear interjected. "If Rourke knows Westbrook's here, he'll cause hell."

  "I'll find Rourke and keep him distracted," I told them. "Y'all figure out a way to send Westbrook on his merry way before our wide receiver ends up in the state penitentiary."

  "Easier said than done, man," Reebo replied. "He came with backup."

  Ah hell. "Where the hell is Mason when we need him?"

  "Last I saw, Starr boy was down on the beach with Casey Garza."

  "Getting tea-bagged, the lucky bastard."

  "Tea-bagged?" Molly frowned. "What the heck is that?"

  "It's when a chick puts your balls in her mouth when she's giving you head," Reebo explained. Molly coughed and spluttered, but Reebs, not taking the hint, continued, "Ain't too many girls our age willing to take a guy's entire ball sack into their mouth, but holy hell does it feel good when it happens – hey, you've been tea-bagged by Casey Garza before, right, D?"

  "Gross," Molly groaned, looking a little pale.

  "Dude!" I snapped, eyeballing my so-called friend. You're killing me here! "Shut the fuck up!"

  "He has," Bear filled in, throwing me under the goddamn bus. "Twice."

  "Good to know," Molly mumbled with a shudder.

  Fuck.

  My.

  Life.

  "So," Reebo continued, smiling brightly at the both of us. "Y'all are in the family way? Con-fucking-grats, man."

 

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