by J. Nathan
“No.” He sounded completely unsettled. “It’s totally…cool?”
I waited until I couldn’t take it anymore, then burst out laughing.
“Tell me that means you’re lying.”
“About the guinea pigs? Yes.”
“Not the shaving?”
I shrugged. “Depends on the day.”
We both laughed.
“You should know,” I warned him. “In a game of wits, I always win. You might as well just admit defeat now.”
“Defeat? I’d never admit that. And if this were an actual competition, I’d die before backing down.”
“Fine. I wouldn’t want you dying on me.”
“See?” He sounded pleased with himself. “You do like me.”
I closed my eyes, enjoying the breeze on my face as I lifted higher into the air. “So, why’d you move here? Your dad’s job?”
“Oh…” He cleared his throat like he’d swallowed a bug. “No…He’s kind of between jobs right now.”
“So, your mom’s?” Silence followed my question. A long, awkward, deafening silence. I’d clearly asked the wrong question. Idiot. “I’m sorry. Look at me being all nosy. You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s fine. I just haven’t really thought about her in a while.” His voice came out low, muffled even.
“She passed away when I was five.”
“I’m so sorry.” Way to go, Hadley.
“Nah. It’s okay. I’m good.”
He didn’t sound good and for some bizarre reason, I had the urge to stop the swing and wrap him in a big hug. Not the kind of hug the girls at school wanted to give him. The kind of hug a guy who grew up without a mom deserved.
“She got cancer. And it spread quickly.” He continued, catching me off guard. “My dad said it took no more than a month between the time they found it and the day she died.”
I dropped my feet, letting my toes drag in the sand until I slowed the swing. When I finally stopped, I swiveled to face him. “That must’ve been really hard on you both.”
He shrugged, his eyes avoiding mine. “I barely remember.”
“Well, I’m a good listener—when I’m not being nosy or a smart ass. So…”
His appreciative eyes met mine. In that moment, I saw a real guy. I saw someone who’d endured heartbreak just like everyone else. And as much as I despised guys who slept with anything that walked, I hurt for him.
Needing a subject change—like yesterday—my eyes flashed to my empty driveway three houses away. “That one’s mine.” I pointed to the monstrosity my mother had designed, with its white bricks and multiple peaks.
“It’s kind of small, don’t you think?”
“Tell me about it. I only have two walk-in closets.”
He laughed. It felt nice to hear him laugh after revealing something so traumatic. “I like you.” His words came out of nowhere.
Goosebumps zipped up my arms. I wanted to believe it was the cool breeze, but I couldn’t be sure. “You don’t know me.”
“I know you like iced coffee, licorice, and guinea pigs.”
“I don’t really like guinea pigs,” I assured him.
His raspy laugh and dark gaze blew every thought out of my head.
Dammit.
He reached out and grasped the chains on my swing, positioning himself directly in front of me.
Oh, God. Don’t kiss me. Please don’t kiss me.
He stared me down, his eyes blazing with something unrecognizable. Something hypnotic. Something I liked more than I should. His hands slid down the chains, meeting my hands. His were large and warm and covered mine completely.
Without warning, he tightened his grip and gave my body a quick twist, spinning the swing around quickly then stepping back. I lifted my legs off the ground and let the momentum twirl me around. I threw back my head and laughed as the night breeze washed over me. I felt free. Free from the concerns of my friends. Free from my loneliness. Free from the need to keep everyone at arm’s length—one of my worst flaws.
When the chain twisted all the way up to the top, the swing stopped spinning. I let it take me around in the opposite direction as it quickly unwound. When it threatened to take me back the other way, I dropped my feet and tiptoed it back to the center until I was untwisted and less dizzy. I looked to Caynan standing there with a small grin on his face. “Your turn.”
He shook his head. “Maybe some other time.”
“Oh, right.” I jumped to my feet, holding the chain for a moment longer to be sure my legs were steady. “You need to get back to your date.”
He smiled a knowing smile.
What? What did he know? And what wasn’t he saying?
“Go. I’ll be fine.” I released the chain and started toward my house.
Caynan followed after me. “I’m not used to girls running away from me.”
I flicked my head over my shoulder. “I told you. I’m not like other girls.”
“Oh, believe me. That was clear the night we met.” He laughed sardonically as he matched my pace.
We reached my house, stopping at the bottom of my steep driveway. “Well, thanks for the walk. And the swing.”
“Let me walk you to your door.” He stepped forward, but I kept my feet planted firmly on the pavement.
“You seriously think I’d fall for that?”
His brows knitted together, and even in the darkness I could see the little indentation between them. “Fall for what?”
“The lean in for a kiss move once we get to the door.”
He appeared truly perplexed. “Who said I wanted to kiss you?”
Every muscle in my face fell slack. My mouth parted. If darkness hadn’t cloaked the night, he would’ve seen my cheeks glowing.
He burst out laughing. “Just so you know, I totally want to kiss you. But I won’t.”
“Damn right you won’t.”
“Is that a challenge?”
My eyes widened. “No. It’s a fact.”
He cocked his head, his eyes doing some crazy twinkling thing reserved for guys in boy bands. “You’d be missing out.”
“On what Katie already had—and what Monica is waiting to have again when you get back? No thanks.”
That knowing grin reappeared. Damn that grin. “I can’t help it if other girls are more susceptible to my charm.”
“Susceptible? They’re fools. Anyone can see that you wear a mask.”
He started to bury his hands in his pockets, but resisted the urge, clenching and unclenching them at his sides. “A mask?”
“No one’s that confident.”
He snickered. “We can agree to disagree. At least for tonight.”
I nodded, slightly embarrassed by my bitchy remark. “Sounds like a plan. Goodnight, Caynan.”
Using his actual name brought a grin to his face. “Goodnight, Feisty.”
My eyes narrowed. “You know my name. Why don’t you use it?”
His lips lifted into a lopsided grin. “It’s more fun this way.” He turned back toward the way we came, taking a couple steps before stopping and looking back at me. “Hey. If your dad’s not a contractor, what’s he do?”
“He’s a detective on the police force.”
His features stilled.
I laughed, saving him the trouble of searching for something kind to say. “Could’ve saved you the trouble of walking me home, huh?”
His eyes tightened. “Why’s that?”
“Who’d be foolish enough to hurt a cop’s daughter?”
He paused for a long moment, and then his lips curved up. “Just so you know, I still would’ve walked you home.”
His words sent an unexpected shiver skimming down my spine. Damn him.
“Goodnight.” With that he turned and sauntered back toward the party in no particular rush.
I watched until he disappeared into the darkness, wondering why he really walked me home. And why he pushed my buttons like no other guy.
Cayna
n
I could barely breathe by the time I turned the corner. Too many times the cash threatened to fall out of my drawers. Like at any second, it planned to reveal itself. It was strange. The entire time we were hanging out in the playground, I felt like Hadley could see through me. Like she knew what I’d done and was just waiting for me to trip up and expose it. And why the hell had I divulged so much to her? I’d never told anyone the truth about my mom. I’d made up some pretty exciting stories about overseas adventures and Bollywood movie stardom, but never once had I ever come close to broaching the truth. Then I met Hadley, and bam, I shared my biggest heartache. With the daughter of a fucking cop.
Karma truly was a bitch.
My dad’s car wasn’t there when I pulled up outside our trailer. Once inside, I walked straight into his room and closed the door, locking the double bolts. I pushed his bed toward the wall and rolled up the area rug, revealing the compartment built into the floor. Grabbing my key from my pocket, I opened the lock to reveal our safe. I twisted the knob and clicked out the combination. Then yanked the cash from my jeans and stuffed it inside with the other stacks of cash we’d collected.
Each time I opened the safe, I envisioned myself filling my backpack with cash, taking off on my own, starting over somewhere new and being whoever I wanted to be. But it wasn’t as easy as it seemed. I didn’t have one authentic piece of identification to my name. I’d be expected to live a bogus existence for the rest of my life. And what about my father? He may not have been the father most kids would’ve wanted, but could I actually abandon him? Where would he go without cash? What would he do without me to rely on?
I usually made quick work of dumping the cash, but after seeing the ring in Mark’s dad’s safe, I pulled a small velvet pouch from ours. I untied the small rope tie and opened it, pulling out the tiny wedding ring my father had bought for my mom using his own hard earned cash.
It’ll just be the two of you, my mother’s weak words echoed through my head.
I remembered holding her frail hand as she lay in the hospital taking her final breaths, trying desperately to get the words out. Take care of your father. You’re all each other have.
I shook my head, needing to literally shake the memory from my brain. If I didn’t, it would’ve festered, setting me off balance.
My father didn’t do the shit we did when my mother was alive. Or so he claimed. He said he did it to pay the hospital bills after she passed. But since he’d yet to pull us out—and was always looking to expand and create new partnerships—I had my suspicions.
I love you, son, my mother assured me before she closed her eyes for the final time. And it was those words I clenched hold of when I was at my lowest.
I closed my eyes and pulled in a shaky breath. If only she had known what would’ve become of us. The knot in my gut tightened. The pit in the deep recesses grew. It was stress. Anxiety. Anger. I was in a no-win situation with no possible way out.
CHAPTER FOUR
Caynan
Since robbing my teammate, thinking about my mom, and opening up to Hadley like a damn chick, I’d been off-kilter. It was a big fucking mistake to actually allow myself to feel like a normal eighteen-year-old again. It took the entire weekend to get my head back on straight.
Pulling into the school parking lot Monday morning came as a welcome change from the four walls of the trailer. I needed to be surrounded by people whose biggest concerns were what to wear, what to post on social media, and what to do on the weekend. I could handle that superficial shit.
The second I stepped into the parking lot, a few of my teammates joined me, filling me in on our upcoming opponent. I let out a deep cleansing breath. The first in days. And it felt good. Damn good.
I stopped by my locker to grab a few books. While my head was buried inside, fingernails ran up my back causing the hair on my arms to stand on end. I spun around.
An unfamiliar blonde with thick bangs moved into my space. My eyes instantly dropped to her assets. Both of them. Staring me right in the face thanks to her low-cut white shirt. “I’m Shannon. I’ve been out of town, but I’ve heard all about you.” She leaned into me, her soft body pressing into mine and her mouth lingering near my ear. “I’m hoping I get to learn a lot more.” Her breathy tone would’ve put porn stars to shame. But just as quickly as she appeared, she turned and walked away.
I blinked a few times making sure I hadn’t imagined her, but when I glanced in the direction from where she came, I spotted her long legs stemming from her short denim skirt strutting down the hallway.
I was really starting to like Georgia.
I made it to English with seconds to spare. Hadley sat in her seat scribbling something down in her notebook. We didn’t have homework and the teacher wasn’t even there yet, so I wondered what she was doing.
“Hey, Feisty.”
Her blue eyes stayed down, her pencil moving furiously across the paper. “Hey.”
She shifted a little which allowed a glimpse of her paper. She hadn’t been writing. She’d been drawing. Drawing something I couldn’t distinguish from my seat. “How was your weekend?”
I expected something witty about the beginning being terrible because some annoying guy wouldn’t leave her alone, but she just shrugged.
Ms. Atwood entered, instructing us to clear our desks for a test. Predictable groans ensued. Fifty minutes later, the bell rang. Hadley jumped up and took off with Cass without bothering to even look my way. Something was clearly up with her. We’d had fun together at the playground, no matter how much she’d deny it.
Or maybe it was me. Maybe I’d misread it. Maybe I really did turn her off.
Smart girl.
I wasn’t the kind of guy girls like Hadley brought home to daddy. Especially her daddy. She was wise to steer clear of me.
I strolled into art class last period, my eyes sweeping the room. Shannon sat at the back corner table, her eyes on mine, as if willing me to sit with her. I grinned as I made my way over to her. She was the type of girl who went for guys like me. The type who didn’t expect roses and grand gestures. The type who didn’t see forever when she looked into my eyes when I had her pinned beneath me in the backseat of my Jeep. The type who wouldn’t be heartbroken when I bailed.
She smiled the way hot girls always smiled when they knew they were hot. When they knew guys were having difficulty not visualizing them naked. “Well this must be my lucky day,” she said.
“Or mine.” I had no trouble talking to pretty girls. I thrived on it.
She tossed back her blond hair and laughed. I’d like to say her laugh was as hot as she was, but it wasn’t. It was high-pitched and phony, nothing like Hadley’s throaty laugh.
“What did I miss last week?” she asked as I slid down beside her.
“Not much. Just worked with watercolors.”
Our teacher walked in carrying a large drawing. He tacked it up to the front board and turned toward us. “Today, we’re going to be discussing tone. I’d like you to examine a drawing created by a student in my Advanced Visual Arts class.” He pointed out the lines, shading, and texturing used in the charcoal drawing of a willow tree. He explained that the method the artist used while creating lines established the drawing’s tone.
The more I stared at the drawing from my spot in the rear of the classroom, the more I noticed the areas where the artist chose courser lines, or smudged the edges, or deepened the color. The more their anger and frustration became evident.
“Hadley plans to study art at Georgia State in the fall,” our teacher explained.
So Feisty was a tortured artist. Got to admit. Never would’ve guessed that one.
“She has a true knack for taking an ordinary image and transforming it into something entirely different.” He pointed to a spot on the side of the tree. “Notice the way she brings insignificant objects in the background of the image into the forefront by casting light around them. She has a way of seeing past what everyone else sees.”
Yeah. It’s probably why she stays away from me.
“Do me a favor,” he continued. “If you run into Hadley in the hallway, be sure to let her know what you think of her work. She’s never truly happy with it, and I think the more she hears it, the more she’ll believe it.”
On my way out of class, I found myself lingering near the teacher’s desk, trying to lose Shannon who rambled on about her trip to Cabo San Lucas over break.
Our teacher finished talking to another student then turned to me. “Can I help you Mr. Abbott?”
“I was just wondering if any of these other drawings are Hadley’s?” It felt weird actually saying her name out loud. I liked how it rolled off my tongue. More than I should.
His eyes scanned the walls filled with student artwork. He pointed to another charcoal drawing in the far corner of the room. My eyes latched onto the small girl with her hair blowing to the side of her head, as if standing in the middle of a hurricane. “That’s the one she submitted for acceptance to Georgia State’s art program.”
I stared at the mesmerizing image, wondering if the little girl was Hadley. If she felt like she existed in the midst of a tornado, the same way I did. “She’s really good.”
Out of the corner of my eyes I could see his head shake. “Actually, she’s one of the best to come through these doors in a very long time.”
“Ready, Caynan?”
I looked to Shannon, my mind filled with nothing. Nothing but emptiness. She was just like every other pretty girl I’d encountered in my travels. She had no depth. No hidden talent. Nothing but good looks to carry her through life. And for once, I was completely turned off by the notion.
Hadley
“Go out with me.”
My eyes shot up from my phone where I’d been reading on the bleachers. Caynan stood on the grass in front of me with his ball cap pulled down low and sunglasses covering his eyes. I tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore the fact that his red baseball uniform fit him like a glove. “I thought Brits only played futbol?”
He grinned, and there was something about the curve of his lips and the confidence in his smile that reminded me of every underwear model I’d ever seen. So bold and self-assured—even while practically naked. Like they knew the secret of what lay beneath their tight fabric and wondered if everyone else did, too. “Well, aren’t you clever?”
