Skater Boy (Patchwork House Book 1)

by Mary Catherine Gebhard

  On a TV a few booths away a music video played. I nearly gasped when I saw who it was. The Imperialists. Romeo! But there was another guy singing as well. He was tall and blonde, and movie star hot.

  I eyed Romeo.

  “When do you have to get back to your famous world tour?” I asked lightly. He’d been back for a while. Wasn’t he supposed to be making girls’ panties drop? Something dark flickered in Romeo’s eyes, then he nudged me. There was a foot of space between me and the registration booth, the man waiting for me to sign in. I quickly shuffled to the front.

  “Name?”

  “Oh, uh, Raegan.”

  “We don’t have a Raegan.” He didn’t even look at his papers.

  “Uh…Tweetie?” I tried my nickname, though officially I went as Raegan Fairchild. The look on his face answered for me and my heart thudded nervously.

  “What if they don’t let me compete?” I whispered to Romeo.

  “Check again, mate,” he said, humor gone, voice like freshly hewn steel. First Patchwork being condemned, then the cops, now this? But if Romeo was worried, he didn’t show it. Smile pearly and leonine, eyes sharp like knives.

  “Oh, here it is.” The man pulled out a number from beneath a stack, handing it to me like I was asking for his firstborn child.

  “Aces.” Romeo snatched it. “Don’t quit your day job.” Romeo gently cupped my elbow, leading me from the table, but I froze. There was a name scribbled at the top of the list, above the ones neatly printed in ink. It didn’t make any sense.

  “Why does it say Flip?” I pointed at the name.

  The registrant eyed me coolly. “Because he’s competing.”

  “At this event? Today?” I think the man thought I was scared to compete with him, and who wouldn’t be? He’d been the best in the world.

  Romeo tugged me out of line as I was frozen, still trying to comprehend what it meant.

  Was he really competing?

  “How—” I broke off, eyes traveling across the asphalt.

  Flip. Flip, King, and Daniel leaned against King’s shiny black and red Chevelle. Arms folded, one leg crossed over the other or propped against the body, smiles lazy and humor glowing in their eyes. My heart soared at the sight of them, even with bloody lips and gashes beneath their eyes I knew would become black and bruised.

  A billion questions spiraled in my head.

  How did they get away?

  When did they get here?

  Soon the questions were background noise, and I was running and running. Jumping into Flip’s arms as he caught me, my legs wrapped around his waist. His hand anchored my lower back, arms around his neck. Pro ho, they might whisper, but at that moment I didn’t care.

  They would always whisper.

  “They let you go?” I asked.

  A grin broke his cut cheek, dimples feathering. “Define ‘let.’” My jaw dropped. He’d ditched the cops? They would be looking for him and they would be angry. As if reading my mind he added, voice lower, hand on my spine tightening, “We weren’t going to miss your big competition, Tweetie.”

  Beside us, King coughed, and I remembered we weren’t alone. I jumped off Flip, rubbed my beanie furiously to get some sense into my brain. When I was around him, I lost all self-control.

  Flip rubbed his thumb along my wrist, tracing my bracelet, pulling my eyes back to his. In my periphery I saw my gods scatter, leaving just me and him. Alone.

  My mouth dried. This was the time to tell him everything, but I didn’t even know where to start. Skateboarding? Easy. From the minute I grabbed my first board it had been instinct. You know instantly if it’s going to be a good land or bad.

  Love was messy. Love was complicated. You took a leap and you hoped you didn’t slam.

  I love you.

  I’m so in love with you.

  “I saw your name,” I whispered. “Are you really competing?”

  FLIP

  I nodded and her eyes popped adorably. They closed registration months ago, but the prospect that the Flip could do his comeback at their regional competition had them practically scrambling all over themselves to make accommodations.

  “I’ll stop if you want,” I said, thumb still on her bracelet, connecting us as a loosely, fraying wire.

  “Don’t you dare,” she said. “I’m not afraid of you, Flip. I know all of your moves.”

  I couldn’t help my smile. “Yeah. You do.”

  Her eyes glowed with the knowledge of my hidden meaning. I still felt her legs around my waist, her arms on my neck, her chest pressed to mine.

  Seconds pressurized, a balloon ready to pop. I wouldn’t let go of the bracelet. Allowing myself the simple touch. Enough to graze the bone at her wrist. Knowing if I pulled her any closer, I’d kiss her and tangle my hands in her hair, my tongue in her mouth. But that would scare her off, so I held the chain at her wrist tenuously like my control.

  “You’re not doing this just to make me happy, right?” she asked softly.

  “Oh, I’m going all out, Tweetie. Get ready to lose.” I grinned, and she scrunched her lips, trying to hide a smile and failing.

  Our smiles faded like spring wind, leaving nothing but a bereft silence.

  “You never told me why you named me Tweetie,” she said quietly after a moment. I thought it was fitting she would ask me now, because we met at a park like this one. We were heading into winter, though, not out of it. Like now, she stood in the middle of the chaos, ready to tackle it.

  “You had big blue eyes and wild blonde hair,” I said. “Most importantly, you wouldn’t shut up.” I zeroed on her mouth. “Fuck, I want to bite those lips.” Her eyes grew and I laughed. “I didn’t realize just how well the nickname would age, though.”

  “What does that mean?” Her eyes darted to mine.

  “You’re still too fucking cute.” She looked away, hiding a blush and smile in her graphic tee.

  People swarmed us, going from concessions to the stands. The announcers gravelly voices echoed over the speakers. We’ve been told Flip is gonna make an appearance, so we’ve got bets going if we’ll even recognize his old ass.

  Still, it felt like we were the only two people in the word.

  “So we’re really doing this?” she whispered. “If I win, you lose. If you win, I lose.”

  “That’s how competitions work, Tweetie.”

  She ground her jaw adorably as they called my name and a murmur grew in the crowd, a buzz, a hum, a slowly approaching stampede. Heads looking left and right. My grip tightened on the bracelet, then I let her go.

  “You better do your trick,” I warned. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime trick, one to change skateboarding.”

  “And if I don’t?” she goaded, arching a brow. I dropped my smile, brows caving in faux-disapproval, and was rewarded with a cheeky smile.

  Fuck, her smile.

  I’d missed that. I looked over her shoulder at the crowd waiting, then once more at Tweetie. Eyes sparkling. Cheeks red. With another call of my name, I headed to the ramp.

  I paused mid-step.

  “One last thing.” I tugged at the elastics in her hair, loosing the curls from her braids. “Better.” I tousled my hand in her hair, getting the curls wild and tangled, loving the way her lips parted in shock. I put her hat back in place then I was off to make the comeback everyone had been waiting for.

  “Why do you love me?” Tweetie called out when I was several steps away. I stopped and turned, a smile breaking my cheeks. They called my name once more, but I ignored it, walking back to Tweetie.

  “Do you have a year?” I asked.

  She shoved me.

  Progress.

  She chewed the inside of her cheek. “I’m serious.”

  I arched a brow. “So am I.” Where did I even start? “I tried to fight it. Every day I tried to fight it. The night you threw up in my closet I gave up. The moment I kissed you I knew there was no going back. Because you are light, Tweetie. Even the darkest moments of my life wer
e brighter with you in them.”

  “But I ruined your life.”

  “You changed my life.” I gripped her face between my palms. “With purpose and joy, you changed my life.” Because this was it, the now or never, I opened up and bled everything left of my heart, into her blue, blue eyes.

  “You’re fearless. You’re loyal. You’re dazzling. But most importantly, you give me somewhere to belong. A home, Tweetie. With you, I finally have a bed to sleep on.”

  Her lips parted.

  I dropped her face, heading toward the growing cheers of the crowd.

  Thirty-Two

  Flat Ground: Skating without any obstacles.

  TWEETIE

  Flip was on fire, absolutely on fire. It was a dream come true to watch him. I worried he was going to go easy, let me win, but he was tearing it apart. He spun through the air like a missile. Aggressive. Scary. Dominating. Magical.

  I swore I saw his deck painted with bright blue eyes and yellow fur. Yet he was so fast, I couldn’t be sure.

  When he went up in the air for another trick, he grabbed the board and our eyes connected. My heart throbbed like a magnet, pulling it closer. Then he landed, tore off his shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow, giving me one last searing look.

  The crowd went wild.

  He exited to let the next competitor get ready while the judges deliberated.

  As if they needed any time—he’d killed it.

  “He was amazing, right?” I stood next to Daniel on the edges of the bleachers and a frenetic crowd. Romeo had gone to help Flip. I wasn’t sure where King had gone. “Daniel?” I turned when he didn’t reply.

  Daniel stared across the ramp, over the tops of mingling fans and skaters giving autographs, at two girls who looked like they belonged more at an upscale party. They spoke with King near the concessions.

  One had really beautiful gray eyes, sort of like King’s, and intense, voluminous brown hair. The other had gorgeous porcelain ivory skin, silky straight cappuccino hair that fell down her back, and eyes hidden behind thin, round glasses.

  “Who is that?”

  “The tall one is King’s sister.” They were both tall, but that wasn’t what I latched onto.

  “King’s sister? King has a sister?”

  “He has an entire family, little one.”

  I mean, I already sort of knew that, but still, I balked, trying to process it. Growing up, I always assumed King was an orphan like me, like Daniel. Or at least abandoned, like Flip. All of us without the normal family life most had. I assumed Romeo was as well…

  I wondered what she was doing here, and who the pretty girl next to her was.

  “Do you know them?” I asked.

  It was a moment before Daniel responded, then he cleared his throat. “No.” Daniel’s eyes were glued at King’s apparent sibling, and it wasn’t the stare of a stranger. I’d never seen Daniel look at anyone like that.

  There was a storm of emotion swirling in his amber eyes.

  As if he knew I was looking, he snapped out of it.

  “I’ll go find Flip and Romeo.” Daniel went off, leaving me alone as I worked my mouth, an idea brewing in my head that I knew would get me into trouble. If King wanted me to meet his sister he would have introduced us, yet…

  I walked over to them, stopping just shy of the girls. King’s sister had tan skin like him, but unlike King, her face lit up from the inside, like her entire soul was smiling with mischief. She was too far away to introduce myself, though, so I went for her friend. The thick lash line reminded me of Flip’s, but hers weren’t lazy and entitled. She was stately, reminding me of a queen, but somehow also shy in the way she fiddled with her fingers.

  King glared at me, silently telling me to leave.

  I wouldn’t be swayed.

  “Hi, I’m—” King stepped between us, blocking my hand. “Tweetie,” I finished, trying to see around his massive body.

  “Go,” he growled, but I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or the other person.

  I got my answer when her head dropped, and she left, King’s sister following.

  “What the hell?”

  “You don’t touch her. Ever. Understand?” I could count on my hand the number of times King had spoken to me roughly, and it was never like this. Like a lion guarding its cub, as if he would rip me apart if I disobeyed.

  His face softened, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah…shit…sorry, Tweetie.”

  “Was that her? The one you love?” The girl everyone kept referring to, the one he wanted but couldn’t have for whatever reason. The one he’d said he’d nearly killed. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it, protective King almost killing someone.

  She was really beautiful.

  It took King so long to speak I was certain it was going to be another unanswered question. Then he said, “Yeah.” We stood side by side in silence. Late winter air was glistening ice in an early spring sun.

  Then King said, “Dammit Tweetie, I’m so sorry.”

  This was it. We were going to hash it out.

  “I could never really be mad at you,” I whispered. “I tried, but I couldn’t.”

  “You should be, Tweetie. You should hate me.”

  “I can’t. You’re my big brother.”

  “Exactly. It was fucked up. It was wrong.” I shrugged. Maybe I should have been mad, but all this time I didn’t really want an apology, I wanted an explanation.

  Now I had one.

  King kissed me in a moment of pain.

  Before that he’d sacrificed everything for his brother.

  Everything for me.

  Was I really going to crucify him forever over one mistake?

  “You’re calling me Tweetie again,” I said with a small smile. Some time passed, then he smiled too.

  Romeo joined us with a bottle of open whiskey in his hand, just as Flip came into view. The only thing separating us was the ramp. He ran both hands through his wavy hair, getting it out of his face. His biceps quivered, pulsed. The left side of his cheek tilted when he caught me staring.

  “So when are you going to get over yourself and jump his bones, luv?” Romeo asked, taking a swig. I swallowed my groan. Romeo might dress like a regular Joe now, but he was still the same Romeo—wildly inappropriate.

  “Don’t you think you’ve both given up enough already?” King asked, but he was staring at the girl again, and she was staring back with wide, black eyes.

  My own wandered back to Flip.

  No. I don’t know. Flip has, but there’s a debt I need to pay. How could I tell him I loved him before I showed him what that meant? Before he knew I would do anything for him and I was sorry for everything I’d taken? Words weren’t enough.

  “You mean well, luv, but if you keep this up, you’re only going to hurt him more,” Romeo added.

  I knew that—I did—I just didn’t know how to even start going back to him.

  Flip waggled his eyebrows and I ducked my head with a smile, eyes catching the bracelet. An idea popped into my head. It definitely wasn’t enough to fix everything, but it was a start.

  “Where can I get nine hundred and ninety-nine origami cranes in less than an hour?”

  King's brows rose.

  Romeo took another sip of whiskey. “I want to say the mall?”

  It came down to me and Flip in the finals. I’d just completed my run and felt nervous, but good. I’d nailed every trick. Did everything I possibly could. It was out of my hands.

  I tore off my beanie, rubbing my curls as I studied the judges, hoping to decipher anything from their matching masks.

  “Do you know how sexy you are when you’re in the zone?” Flip was propped against the back of the ramp, iron crisscrosses his background, board at his feet, and a self-satisfied smile on his face. The ramp was so tall it created shade against a blue sky and bright sun, almost like we were a secret. “You killed it.”

  “You’re up next,” I said, voice way too shaky. “You should
be getting ready.” He ignored me, kicking off the ramp, until we were so close I had to look past the wicked edge of his jaw to find his sparkling eyes.

  “I’m not saying this because I love you and hope you’ll finally admit you find me irresistible.” Remember to breathe. I would never get used to his brazen honesty. “This is purely objective,” he continued. “They saw it too.”

  Then he gripped my hips, spinning and pulling me against his chest, pointing over my shoulder. I tried to focus on his finger and not the way his muscles flexed against my back.

  “Look at that little girl in the third row.” Lips hot at my neck, a voice that throbbed from its point at my flesh, down my spine, deep into my thighs.

  Focus.

  Follow the finger.

  She had a crude hand-drawn sign that said I LOVE REGAN. I loved it, even though she’d spelled my name wrong. My face heated, and when Flip spoke next, it completely set on fire.

  “You’re once in a lifetime, Tweetie. I see it. They see it.” I turned my face into my shoulder, hiding my blush. He groaned. “That blush, Tweetie. You know what the blush does to me.”

  I spun so I could meet him face to face. “I don’t think I remember. Remind me?”

  His eyes darkened, hands on my hips harsh and bruising. “Don’t tease.”

  I bit my lip, his eyes dropped to them. I wanted that—him—and I was so ready to tell him.

  Just as I was to open my mouth and pour out everything I’d been keeping locked tight, sirens sounded and three cop cars pulled into the parking lot.

  Worst. Timing. Ever.

  Police piled out, fanning in all directions. King and Daniel didn’t bother running, throwing up their hands in annoyed surrender. Romeo, however, ran backward from them, finishing his bottle of whiskey as he went and flipping them the bird.

  “Flip…” Fear leaked from me, because they would be here soon, and because we knew what this meant. Flip wouldn’t be able to compete, and he’d be disqualified. Yet his smile was easy, thumb at my at my hip rubbing a lazy circle.

  “Why are you smiling?”