Keep (Seaside Pictures Book 2)

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Keep (Seaside Pictures Book 2) Page 5

by Rachel Van Dyken


  “There.” I popped the marshmallow into my mouth and chewed, nearly choking since he’d gotten the large campfire ones. Once I swallowed a bit, I faced him. “Now, let’s work on your love song because I have things to do.”

  “Name one.”

  Why hadn’t I been blessed with the ability to lie?

  “I…” Mags was going to kill me. “I have a date.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”

  “What? Is that so hard to believe?”

  He eyed me up and down, a smile curving around his lips. “Yes and no.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should be insulted or just curious. His smile was wide. He stood, grabbed his guitar again, and sighed. “Maybe I just need some inspiration.”

  Wide-eyed panic was my only response.

  Naturally, it made him laugh. “Not that kind.”

  He turned on the TV.

  And that was how I found myself watching How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, with one of the hottest stars on the planet.

  With a bowl of marshmallows separating our thighs.

  When the movie was over, so was my time. I quickly stood and bolted for the door. It wasn’t fair that I couldn’t enjoy my time with him, but it was a mirage, completely fabricated in order to help him and throw me off my rocker.

  Oh, Grandma. Ugh.

  “This time tomorrow?” Zane called.

  “Bye!” I called back.

  “How are you getting home?” He asked from behind me.

  I froze, cursing myself. “I um, was going to call a cab.”

  “Bullshit.” He grabbed a hat, not a shirt, but a hat, and then pulled out his keys. “I’ll drive you.”

  “That’s really not—”

  “—necessary?” He shrugged. “It is. After all, you inspired me today. Granted, it didn’t exactly go as planned, but it worked out, better.” His smile grew. “Different, but good, you know?”

  Curiosity was basically pumping off my body in waves. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yup.”

  “How’s that?” I asked as nonchalant as I could.

  He shrugged. “You were my friend.”

  “We spent just as much time insulting each other as we did breathing.”

  “You kept track?” Disappointment colored his voice. “And yes, a friend. Which I’ll have you know, is also a type of love, brotherly love. But since you’re a chick, I’ll just call you my sister.”

  God hated me.

  That was what I took from this entire conversation with Zane. That somehow, I’d done something wrong, and God was pouring out His wrath. Because not only was I stuck with one of the hottest guys in the world—but he’d just referred to me as his sister. How do you even recover from that? It’s not even close to the friend zone!

  “Great,” I managed to choke out.

  “Which means I probably shouldn’t kiss you anymore. Sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “So where to?”

  I gave him directions to my parents’ house on the other side of town. It was nice enough, a middle-class two-story beach house with blue and white paint that had seen better days.

  “Cool,” he said as we pulled up in front. Then he nodded and turned off the truck.

  “Whoa.” I held out my hand. “What are you doing?”

  “Meeting your parents.”

  “The hell you are!”

  “Aw, did you just curse?” He chuckled darkly. “And why not? We’re practically family now.”

  “How did this happen?” I asked the universe. “This is why you don’t lie about dead cats!”

  “Quick, what’s his name?”

  “Otto!” I blurted while Zane laughed harder. “And you aren’t meeting my parents!”

  “Tomorrow night then?”

  “NO!” Frustration welled up inside me. “You can’t just march into strangers’ lives and force them to be friends with you. It’s not fair.”

  “Life is hardly fair.”

  I let out a pitiful groan. “Zane, no more joking, no more laughter. Why? Why are you doing this? I’m sure you have plenty of people to bother, a family to annoy.” I drew a breath. “A girlfriend to kiss.”

  His face sobered or what I saw of it. And suddenly he was putting his seatbelt back on, as if I was the one rejecting him, which was crazy!

  “Yeah.” He licked his lips and glanced out the window. “Have a good night, Fallon.”

  Guilt stabbed me square in the chest.

  He looked like a kicked puppy.

  And I was more dog girl than cat anyway, which was how I found myself reaching for his hand and saying, “Fine. Come inside. But ten minutes, and only ten minutes.”

  He grinned wide. “Let’s set a timer shall we?”

  Chapter Seven

  Zane

  DON’T ASK ME WHY I did it. I’d probably lie to you just like I was lying to myself. I didn’t want to go back to the house.

  It was lonely.

  And I honestly hated being there when it was empty. Typically, I at least had one person stumbling around, but now that Linc was shacking up with Dani I didn’t really have anyone.

  She loved helping him on set.

  Amongst other things.

  And Jay was busting his ass making sure they all stayed on schedule for production.

  I had a date with a pizza carton.

  That was my future.

  Half was loneliness, the other half was curiosity, what type of family did this odd girl come from? My little four eyes. She probably thought I was insulting her, when really, it was the exact opposite, almost like the type of name-calling you do on the playground, where rocks are reserved for the cute girls and all that shit.

  “Don’t ask questions!” Fallon smacked my arm as though we’d known each other for years. I liked it. Damn it. “And just, when my dad starts talking about hunting, nod your head and don’t make eye contact with the deer.”

  “The deer?” I asked just as she opened the door and nearly collided with both of her parents. They had frozen smiles on their faces.

  Her dad was the first to stretch out his hand. His grip was firm, his smile friendly. And from his camo pants to his dark brown shirt, and even up to his tortoiseshell horn-rimmed glasses, he just looked…nice.

  “Fallon! Who’s this?” Still smiling, her dad released my hand then patted me so hard on the back that I nearly choked on my tongue. “Good strong man! Say, do you hunt?”

  “I’ve never tried it,” I answered honestly while he steered me away from Fallon and her mom.

  Her mom seemed sweet, quiet but sweet. She was wearing an apron with a bear on it and had flour all over her face.

  “Mom!” Fallon hissed. “Save him!”

  “Oh, honey.” Her mom’s voice floated toward me. “He’ll either scare away or endure.”

  What a promising future I had!

  “Now, this one was a little son of a gun, hid right underneath the bush until I could finally scare him out into the open.” A stuffed raccoon stared back at me. I could only imagine the poor animal was shot in duress if his expression was any hint.

  He gave new meaning to deer in headlights, more like coon in corner.

  “Wow.” I nodded encouragingly and held out my hands. “He’s big.”

  “Biggest coon I’ve ever trapped!” Another numbing back pat.

  “You must love hunting.” It was all I had, not that I didn’t appreciate the sport, you know, as long as people ate the meat and were humane, but he took his hobby to an entirely different level. Shelves were filled with pictures of hunting right along with at least ten stuffed animal heads that faced the wall right when you walked in to the expansive living room.

  “Yeah.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “The women get fussy over it.”

  “I bet. What, with you being in danger all the time.” Laying it on a bit thick there, Zane.

  His eyes widened. “Exactly!” He slapped me on the back ag
ain, hard enough this time that I felt the need to run my tongue over my teeth to make sure none had been accidently knocked out. He barked out a laugh. “Well that, and one time I made the mistake of shooting a deer after Fallon saw Bambi for the first time.”

  I burst out laughing.

  He joined in just as the girls walked in.

  “Something funny?” Fallon asked, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.

  “Your dad shot Bambi,” I pointed out, then turned to her dad. “How long did she cry?”

  “Days,” her mom interrupted and took a step toward us. “Sorry for not shaking your hand, but I was trying to cook.”

  I shook her hand. “And were you successful?”

  “No.” She rolled her eyes. “I burned the chicken. Again.”

  “She burns things if I’m not home.” Fallon shared a smile with her mom before I narrowed my eyes in on her. Home? Didn’t she have a date?

  “Too bad about your date tonight then, huh Fallon?”

  Her jaw clenched. “Er, yes.”

  “Date!” Her mom screamed while her dad ran out of the room and returned with a shotgun. I held up my hands, unsure of how to proceed.

  “Where is that son of a bitch!” I’d never actually seen anyone load a shotgun, let alone, pull back the hammer like we were in the Wild West and in need of a buffalo to shoot.

  I kept my hands mid-air.

  “He’s uh…” Fallon’s eyes widened in my direction, and a plea of silent desperation filled the space between us. “He’s uh.”

  I finally lowered my hands and crossed my arms. “Right here.”

  Her dad pointed the gun while her mom let out a little gasp and shouted. “Bill!”

  “What?” Her dad waved the gun near my face. If it misfired, I was going to have a lot of explaining to do to the studio execs who wanted a new album by the end of the month. “I ain’t gonna injure him!”

  “Dad…” Fallon’s smile looked pained. “It’s not really a date, I mean he’s famous, it’s more of one of those things you do for—”

  “—Charity.” I cut her off. “We’re raising money.”

  “For?” Her dad’s eyes narrowed.

  “Seals.” I nodded emphatically. “One of them has a hurt fin and only swims in circles.” I demonstrated with my hand. “At any rate, we’re helping Seaside raise funds to bring in more experienced vets from Sea World.”

  Bill looked extremely convinced as he lowered the gun and shrugged. “From Sea World you say?”

  “Didn’t a whale recently kill a trainer there?” Fallon’s mom whispered then covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, those poor trainers, to live in such conditions.”

  “Palm trees and hot weather are definite hardships,” Fallon muttered.

  “So it’s not a real date.” Her dad looked between the two of us, I was tempted to raise my hands again and offer to let him pat me down. As it was, I itched to do a little circle so he could inspect me.

  “No,” Fallon said.

  “Yes,” I mumbled at the same time.

  He frowned. “Which is it? No romance, right? Because Fallon isn’t allowed to date until she’s finished college.”

  I laughed, assuming he was joking.

  He didn’t.

  Her mom even scrunched up her nose and looked away.

  “Okay.” I exhaled. “I won’t touch her. I swear. Besides, it wouldn’t just look bad for the charity but the seals, if I tainted her with my—”

  “—Parts.” Fallon shouted while her mom covered her face with her hands and then bumped into the chair.

  “I think…” Her mom’s face grew redder by the second. “I’ll just order pizza.”

  “Good idea.” Fallon tried to escape, but I grabbed her by the shirt and kept her in place while her dad continued to question us like we’d just committed murder.

  “You’ll have her back by eleven?”

  “You have my word.” I put my hand over my heart.

  “Good, then.” He nodded. “Alright.”

  I didn’t move.

  “Well, get on then.” He flashed a smile then frowned as his eyes fell to the rip in my jeans. “It’s a good thing you two are doing. I’ve been telling Fallon she needs to find a hobby rather than mope around waiting to go to school. Working at that big resort as a maid isn’t enough to keep her interest, not a smart girl like Fallon.”

  “Right.” Well, that was interesting. A maid? At the resort? I pushed what I hoped was a congenial smile onto my face. “It was nice meeting you.”

  He held out his gun first and then his hand. I think it was purposeful. I matched his grip then ushered Fallon outside, careful not to say anything until we were back in the truck.

  “I’ve known you less than forty-eight hours, and you’ve lied twice.”

  “I did have a date.” Fallon crossed her arms. “With Mags.”

  “Uh-huh.” I started the truck. “And was she aware of this date?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Lie.”

  “Fine!” She threw up her hands. “I lied, but you were making fun of the fact that I d-didn’t have a boyfriend and—”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I shook my head. “I wasn’t making fun. I was teasing. There’s a huge difference. Making fun means I’m trying to make you feel bad about yourself, teasing is what you do when you want to embarrass someone. Huge difference.”

  “And yet both feel bad!”

  “You need more sugar.”

  “Huh?”

  “It will help with all your nervous energy.”

  “I’m not engaging with you.”

  “So, a maid huh?”

  She let out a pitiful groan. “This is why you don’t kiss strangers.”

  “No, you don’t kiss strangers because they may just kiss you back.”

  “And then you’re stuck with them.”

  “Like syphilis.” I nodded thoughtfully, itching to reach across the consul and grab her thigh, because I was an idiot like that, and for some reason touching her seemed like a really solid plan even though her father had a gun.

  “You can cure Syphilis.” She pointed out, shoving her glasses further up her nose. I ached in places no man should ache over something so simple, so ridiculous.

  “Or does it just lay dormant in your system?”

  “Here.” She pointed to a small restaurant on the corner with a crab sign. “This is fine.”

  “Crabby Shack? You’re kidding, right?”

  “Hey, they give out bibs!”

  “Because that was my first thought this morning, damn, why can’t a man find a decent bib around here?”

  “You’re paying,” she announced, slamming the car door behind her.

  Chapter Eight

  Fallon

  MY HANDS WERE SHAKING.

  And I was sweating.

  There was nothing attractive about the fact that I was barely able to keep the trembling out of my voice, meaning everything I said came out harsher than I wanted it to.

  Did he have any idea how difficult it was to just be around him and try to act normal? To focus so desperately on my speech, on the formation of every single word just so I wouldn’t stutter as much?

  “Holy shit.” Zane’s breath hit the back of my neck causing warmth to spread down my arms. “Is that crab real?”

  I smirked at the giant, glass fish tank at the front of the restaurant. “You mean Helga?”

  He whistled. “You know what they say about names. If you name something, that means you have to keep it.” A flash of emotion came and went, making me more curious than I needed to be.

  Because it was Zane Andrews.

  He acted like it didn’t matter.

  But it did. And anyone with two eyes could see that he was just used to the world giving him things.

  “Table for two,” Zane said in that commanding scratchy voice that had my knees knocking together.

  It wasn’t a first date, because it wasn’t really a date.

  H
onestly, I’d never dated because in Seaside, everyone kind of just hung out with everyone else. Everything was done in groups, one-on-one felt awkward.

  Except right now, it felt…exciting.

  Even if it was for the imaginary seals.

  “That was some quick thinking back there.” I grabbed my napkin and folded it across my lap.

  Zane shrugged. “Probably because it wasn’t a lie.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You’re really saving seals?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Huh?”

  “That expression on your face. You’d think I just told you I prevented a meteor from hitting the planet.”

  I shifted in my seat. “I just didn’t expect you to care.”

  “Ah,” Zane reached for the sugar packets and flipped every single one of them around, like he was annoyed they were facing him. With barely a pause, he started in on his silverware, tossing it one way then the other.

  Finally, I placed my hand on the metal and shook my head.

  He almost looked startled when he glanced up. “What?”

  “Are you sure you don’t do drugs?”

  Hands shaking, he managed to get one of them free and reach into his pocket long enough to pull out two smaller marshmallows, popping them in his mouth.

  I shook my head. “Let me guess, travel size?”

  He smirked. “You’re catching on.”

  “A terrifying thought.”

  “Or the best one you’ve ever had?”

  “Nope.”

  “Worth a shot.” He swallowed, and the motion drew my eyes to his perfectly sculpted neck and shoulders. Why was he so pretty? His nose piercing caught the light and flashed like a camera in my direction.

  A good reminder.

  His life was flashy.

  Mine was not.

  “I’m not dropping this whole scenario about being the best you’ve ever had, so you may as well tell me the story…besides, by your body language, I’m assuming I’m not going to get many more dates.”

  I snorted. “That’s highly doubtful.”

  “Take off your glasses.”

  “Huh?”

  He reached for my glasses and slid them off, setting them on the table with more care than I thought him capable of. “There, that’s better. I want to see your eyes.”

 

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