Ace

Home > Romance > Ace > Page 8
Ace Page 8

by Laramie Briscoe


  “Because I want something, and I can’t seem to force myself to take it.”

  Our eyes meet. In the silence of the room, I think she realizes I’m talking about her, about my feelings for her.

  “Which is what?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

  She’s still kneeling, and I want to be where she is. I slide off the bed, my knees hitting the carpet. Down here I’m not so dizzy, the room doesn’t sway, and my tongue doesn’t feel so thick. My palms cup her cheeks, before my fingers push into her hair.

  “You,” I groan as I use my fingers to situate her mouth how I want it. “I want you more than I want to breathe. I want your kiss more than I want to sleep at night. I want your love more than anything else I’ve ever wanted in my life.”

  “These are drunken ramblings, abs.”

  “Fuck drunk ramblings.” I pull her closer to me, pushing my erection against her. “Reaction doesn’t lie, Violet.”

  And in that moment, I take the kiss I’ve wanted to take for months. I push against her walls, knock down a few of them, and burrow my way into her mouth. Hoping against everything stacked against us that the taste of me on her tongue will change it all and point us in the right direction.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Violet

  Anthony hasn’t mentioned the kiss from last night, and I haven’t either. To be honest, I’m not sure how to bring it up. If he can’t remember it or if he did it because he was drunk, and it meant nothing…it will devastate me.

  That’s not to say it didn’t affect me. I went to bed with my lips tingling and spent all night convincing myself not to cuddle up next to his warmth. By not mentioning it, I figure I’m saving us both the embarrassment – him for doing it and me for thinking it might have meant something.

  “You look amazing.” Anthony’s voice is hoarse as his green eyes sweep up and down my body. I can feel it in the fiber of my being. My skin pricks with awareness, and I can feel my breasts swell against the lace of my bra. I didn’t start having actual physical reactions to men until this one came into my life.

  This dress is the prettiest thing I’ve ever owned. An aqua blue color with a lace overlay on top, flowers running up and down it. Whitney went through her closet a few weeks ago and invited the ladies over to “shop”. When I saw it, I wanted it, and prayed that no one else did. It sat on the couch for an hour, before Blaze stalked over, picked it up, and handed it to me.

  “You’ve been eyeing it since the moment you got here,” she told me as she dropped it in my lap. “If you want it, take it.”

  I’d taken it, but I hadn’t tried it on until I’d gotten home. And when I did, I’d spun around like a princess in a cartoon. Hell, I’d even clapped my hands and did a curtsy. In some ways, that moment and this dress signaled the change I needed in my life. I’d been floating by, doing my day-to-day, but I’d stopped challenging myself. After that day, I started to take charge again, I went after things I wanted.

  With one exception. Anthony. Because if he rejects me, I’m not sure how I’ll handle it.

  Now here I am, wearing the dress, staring down the man who gave me the best kiss of my life last night, and my heart is pounding as I wonder what kind of move I’ve going to make.

  “We need to leave if we’re going to make it in time.” He’s slipping on his shoes, and I realize I’ve waited too long and lost my window.

  Instead of being disappointed in myself, I promise myself that next time I won’t let the moment pass. There will be another opportunity. I know there will because we’ve been dancing around each other for months, and I have to believe I can be someone desirable. That my husband didn’t ruin me for other people. As soon as the ink dries on the divorce agreement, I’m going to make my move on this man, and he’ll either accept me or reject me on my own merit. In some ways, that’s worth all the heartache I’ve gone through. If I can find my true happiness, I’ll accept everything that happened before was in preparation to show me what goodness was around the corner. Maybe it taught me how to appreciate a good man. More than anything, I hope I get to experience the kind of happiness the other people in my life are experiencing right now. To know the feeling behind the smiles on their faces? I’d be the luckiest person in the world. The luckiest person who now understands her worth, even if it’s hard for me to realize it sometimes.

  Grabbing my purse, I give him a smile. “I’m ready when you are.” And I realize those words apply to so many areas of my life.

  * * *

  “They Pinterested the fuck outta this wedding,” Anthony whispers as we make our way to the stretch of sand Whitney and Ryan have selected to say their vows on.

  I shoot him a glare, but giggle too. “What do you know about that?”

  “My sister.” He rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. “Did the same with hers, and now I’ve had to get a motherfuckin’ account so I can be added to some damn private board to plan our mom’s birthday. Do you know what that does to my masculinity? To know I have the Pinterest app on my phone, and I’m adding shit to it?”

  Now my giggle has turned into a full-blown laugh. “Does anyone know this about you?”

  “Just you, Vi.” He slowly snakes his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. “And I’m counting on you to keep my secret.”

  He doesn’t have to worry. As long as he keeps touching me, I’ll keep every single secret he chooses to confide in me.

  “Oh, son of a bitch.” He points to a sign at the back of where the chairs are set up for the guests. “Does she have Renegade’s balls in a vice? With sandy toes and salt-water kisses, we became Mr. and Mrs.? How fucking lame is that? So lame…”

  Putting my hand over my mouth to hide the laughter, I lean into him. “Let them have their fun. You never know, maybe one day you’ll think there’s a woman worth making a cute little rhyme about.”

  He gifts me with the sexiest smile I’ve seen him give anyone. “What? You mean something like, Oh Vi, you look so fly?”

  Slapping his shoulder, I give him a look. “Stop, don’t make fun.”

  And for some reason it hurts that he’s just made up that little rhyme. Like all that optimism I had when we were in the hotel room is gone.

  “I’m not making fun.” He grabs hold of my chin as we come to a stop in the middle of the aisle. Other guests of the wedding have to go around us to get to their seats, but Anthony doesn’t let my chin go, doesn’t break his gaze from mine.

  “It feels like it,” I whisper.

  “I’d never make fun of you, and I’d never make fun of the way I feel for you, Violet. A lot of times I’m the one who brings the laughs, and I’m okay with it, but I hope that you of all people can see behind the laughs. You know the pain a smile hides, and I hope if I can ever be myself with anyone, it’ll be you.”

  Finally he breaks our gaze and his hold, ushering us to our seats. My mind is full of turmoil at the words he spoke, twisting around like leaves in an autumn storm. I have a feeling he was trying to tell me something important about himself. But I don’t want to make assumptions, and without concrete proof, I have no idea what his words mean.

  Ace

  The whole crowd gasps with joy when they see Stella making her way up the aisle, throwing petals on the runner covering the sand. She’s cute as can be, her chubby legs toddling. When it looks like she might take a tumble, Caleb rushes in from the side, grabbing her hand.

  Stella gazes up at him like he’s some sort of prince charming, smiling so widely at him you can see a little dimple in her cheek. He smiles back at her, and I realize it’s been a long time since any of us saw Caleb freely give one of those. The barn party last year changed us all, but no one more than Caleb. We’re all still trying to recover from the shock of losing one of our own in the community.

  “C’mon, Stell Belle,” he whispers loudly. “Let’s get you up there and get your parents married.”

  He swoops her up in his arms, giving her a little kiss on the cheek that makes her squeal befo
re depositing her next to Blaze, who holds out her hand. Stella grabs it tightly, while we all stand for Whitney. Reaper and Harmony sing from the left-hand side of the aisle, it looks like another member of Black Friday plays guitar as they sing their number-one duet.

  “This is so exciting.” Violet beams back at me. Her hair is highlighted by the glow of the setting sun behind us. There’s a slight breeze blowing, and if I’m honest, this couldn’t be any more perfect. “I’ve always wanted to see Reaper and Harmony, and this is like a private concert.”

  I’m ashamed to say I don’t know much about either one of them; I just know they’re one of the most popular celebrity couples in the world and they had a whirlwind romance. Over the past few weeks, as the girls have prepared for this wedding, they’ve talked about the sweet love story between these two. I’ve watched more celebrity gossip shows and YouTube videos about this couple than I’ve probably watched my entire life.

  But if this makes her happy, then there’s nothing I want to change about this day. Keeping that all to myself, I give her a little bit of the story as it was told to me.

  “Holden mentioned we were all coming down for the wedding to Reaper and they were looking to take a small vacation before Black Friday has to head back into the studio. They knew they wouldn’t be bothered here with us, and they offered to sing. I knew you liked them, so what better way for you to see them?”

  For just a few moments I feel like the most bad ass guy in the place, because I helped put that look on her face. I didn’t give up every time she tried to blow me off. The fluttering in my stomach as she grins at me is worth every time I’ve wondered if what I was doing was working. Stepping forward, I put my arm around her neck, letting my hand hang down against her chest so she can grasp mine with hers.

  She still doesn’t trust enough to let all her walls down with me, but it’s a start, and a start is all I’ve ever wanted with Violet.

  “She looks gorgeous,” Violet whispers as we watch Whitney come to the head of the aisle.

  My eyes drift from Whitney to where Renegade stands at the end of the aisle waiting for her. The look on his face is one of complete and total love and devotion. There’s a passion I see as he watches her, even a few tears make their way down his cheeks. He’s saying something, but I can’t tell what it is because he’s put his hand over his mouth. I’ve watched these two friends of mine fall in love, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’ve wanted it for a while. Knowing they’ve been able to have it gives me hope.

  As I look down and watch her gaze follow Whitney up the aisle, her tear up as they exchange vows, and the way she puts her free hand over her own mouth when they kiss gives me hope. I have hope she remembers what a happily ever after is and that she allows me to give it to her. Nobody else in this world deserves it more than she does, and nobody else wants to give that happiness to her more than I do.

  When the minister pronounces them husband and wife, I close my eyes and send up a little prayer for myself. Renegade waited a long time, and if he did, so can I. With all the crazy shit he’s been through, he persevered, same with Whitney.

  I open my eyes just in time to see them break apart and lean down, grabbing their daughter. As they make their way down the aisle, after they’re pronounced husband and wife, I’m hit with a feeling in my chest I’ve never felt before. It’s the type of emotion that steals your breath, makes you want more than what you have, and to be the best version of yourself you can be.

  That shit doesn’t happen overnight though, it doesn’t strike like lightning. The feeling might, but the reality of it is so much slower than the realization. That shit takes time, it takes understanding, and diligence.

  Not to mention all the stars aligning and maybe a little bit of luck. No big deal, right? I got this. When it’s supposed to happen, it happens. And I believe right now, more than ever, that Violet and I? We’re supposed to happen.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Violet

  Three Weeks Later

  “That’s all I have for y’all today.” The teacher at the front of the class checks her watch. “I know it’s fifteen minutes early, but let’s go ahead and cut out. I’m sure we’ve all had a long day.”

  When I started night classes, I wasn’t sure what to expect since before this I didn’t have more than a high school education. There was a fear I wouldn’t measure up to the other students, but I learned quickly we all had our own stories. Meeting Karina Holland changed my academic life. She’d tutored Leighton in one of the subjects she needed some help with, and when I told her off-handedly I wanted to go back to school, she’d made it happen. As I put my backpack on my shoulders and pick up my bottle of water, she stops in front of me, a welcoming smile on her face.

  “You doin’ okay, Violet?”

  “I am.” And I mean it. The last few months have been difficult, but I’m happy with this life I’ve carved out for myself. I’m doing better than I ever imagined I would be. Anthony is working tonight, but I don’t work tomorrow, so we’re getting together for a late dinner when he gets off shift.

  “You’re tan, I take it your trip to the shore did you well?”

  Even though the wedding was three weeks ago, I’m still sporting the color I got while I was there. She’s not pressing; she’s asking like a friend, and Lord knows I’ve needed those more times than I’ve cared to count in my life. “It did, thank you again for letting me miss the class to attend.”

  “You’re one of my brightest students, Violet. If anyone deserves to have a good time, it’s you.”

  The praise embarrasses me, I’m not used to it, and I don’t respond to it well typically. My cheeks are red, I can feel the heat in them, and I duck my head, but I manage a soft “Thank you.”

  “Seriously, Violet, not many people can be out of school as long as you’ve been, come back, and make it your bitch the way you have. Take the praise, and revel in it. You earned it.”

  When I learn how to take the praise, I will. Instead I nod at her, sure she knows I’m a fake. I don’t have all my shit together, I don’t even have a little of my shit together. I’m hanging on by the skin of my teeth and a prayer. Thank God for the man sleeping in the duplex next to me. Without him, I’m not sure where I’d be. Probably at some truck stop in Florida fulfilling my prophecy as a lot lizard. Luckily a hot cop by the name of Anthony Bailey stepped up and helped me out. Before she can embarrass me further, I gather my stuff up and make my way toward the student parking, where my car sits under a light. I’m nothing, if not safe.

  I’m five feet away when I hear someone yell my name, or rather a nickname that drives me completely crazy.

  “Vi Pie!!!”

  Caleb is the only person on this earth who calls me that, and he’s lucky I haven’t cut his tongue out for giving me such a shitty nickname. The way he’s shouted it, makes me turn to him. There’s an urgency in his tone, one that makes me worry about him immediately. “Are you okay?”

  He’s half-way staggering as he strolls up to me. “Am I?”

  As he steps into the light, I gasp when I get a good look at him. There’s blood dripping from his nose, and his chin is scraped. I gasp, pulling my backpack around and taking a wet wipe out of it. “What happened to you?”

  I reach over, grabbing him by the elbow, but he outweighs me by at least fifty pounds and he’s not steady on his feet.

  “Took a tumble.” He laughs, and that’s when I smell the liquor on his breath.

  “Are you drunk?” The question is unbelievable as I push it past my lips.

  He gives me a look. One that’s way too adult for the teenager looking at me. “C’mon, Vi Pie, don’t act like you’re surprised.”

  The fact is, I am. Very surprised, and I wonder why he’s saying these words like I should be able to notice when he’s three sheets to the wind. “Let’s get you over here.” I pull him to my car, leaning him against the hood.

  Now that he’s fully in the light, I see a purple bruise popping up on
his collar bone, some scratches on his neck. Using the wet wipe, I try to get rid of some of the blood caked on his chin. But I have to ask about the other marks on his body.

  “Caleb, what else did you do tonight?”

  Giving me that same grin he gave me earlier, he purses his lips. “A really fucking hot co-ed, who knew how to ride my dick in ways these high school girls can only dream of.”

  Holy Jesus. What am I going to do with this kid? “Did she know you’re not eighteen?”

  “Do I look like I’m not eighteen?” His eyebrow raises as his cocky tone grates against my nerves. Lifting a bottle of Jack from somewhere, I’m not completely sure where it appeared from, he takes a drink. When I reach for it, he holds it over my head.

  He looks like he’s in his early-twenties with the big body he has and the scruff on his jaw. “You look like shit. Now give me a few minutes, while I figure out what the hell to do with you.”

  He crosses his arms over his wide chest, his long legs cross at the ankles and shoots me a defiant look, as he takes another drink. One that makes me glad I’ve never had children, because if this shithead were mine I’d knock the smirk off his face then tell him to cry it out, because it’s obvious he’s hurting more than any of us know how to deal with.

  It makes me sad, and I vow right here and right now, I’m not letting Caleb down. Not the way I’ve been let down my entire life. Sighing, I grab my phone out of my purse and make a call. He’s used to cleaning up my messes, so it should be no surprise that I’m calling him to clean up other people’s, too.

  Ace

  “I didn’t know who else to call.” Violet’s voice is apologetic as she looks at me from where she leans against the car, her arm around Caleb.

  “Told her to call my dad, don’t give a fuck,” Caleb slurs, kicking his long legs out in front of him, trying to stand up straight.

  “You do give a fuck.” I relieve Violet, taking Caleb’s weight on me. “Dude, you’re solid,” I groan as I help him get situated. “Come over here and sit on the grill of my car.” He’s done a lot of growing up on us in the last year. Not all of it good. Since the barn party where a classmate died from drinking a bad batch of moonshine, a part of him has become withdrawn. He’s not quick to smile, not so quick to joke around. It seems to have affected him more than any of us realized. Maybe we’d all hoped and assumed too much with him getting the scholarship and being affectionate with Stella meant he was okay. Looks like we were very wrong.

 

‹ Prev