Peyton's Path: Fighting Fate Book 2

by SM Olivier

  Golden opened the door at the end of the hall, and I was immediately greeted with a stairway. He indicated for me to go first, so I climbed the narrow stairs, noticing the medals hanging on the walls and the trophies on the ledge above me.

  “Why aren’t you going to run this spring?” I asked him suddenly.

  I felt the hand my waist tense for a moment. “Da was always busy. If he wasn’t working, he was out in the barn working on the cars or making new furniture. No matter how busy he was, he always made time for us. He was the one who got me into cars and running. I was an angry kid for a long time. He told me I was too old for spankings, and most punishments didn’t seem to work on me. Even positive encouragements didn’t work on me. One day, he started to make me run every time I acted out, he made me run up and down the driveway. Each step I took, he was right beside me. Eventually, it became less of a punishment and more of a release.

  “We bonded over it. Ultimately, I didn’t need any more corrections, and I just ran on my own, but he still went with me if he was home. Even when he was bone tired and just rolling back into town, he would take the time for me. I hurt myself at the end of last season, and I just completed physical therapy… but the idea of running without him watching feels…empty. I can’t imagine finding any joy in it anymore. He was so proud of me and my accomplishments, and it made me only push harder for him.”

  I squeezed his hand, not knowing what to say at first. “I know I’m not Da, but I would love to see you run. If you want to.”

  He gave me a crooked smile and flipped on the light switch. “Maybe, we’ll see.” He shrugged.

  I was going to have to be satisfied with that answer for now. Maybe with a little encouragement, he would be running again by this spring.

  I stopped at the top of his stairs. His room looked just as I imagined it. It wasn’t as sterile as Zane’s or as sparse as Crew’s and Kyler’s. It was clean, with the typical teenage boy clutter. He had a basket of clean clothes folded by a dresser, but not put away. The hamper on the other side of the bed had clothes nearly overflowing out of it. A pair of jeans draped over the back of his chair. Pictures and trophies adorned the dresser and desk. He had a television mounted to the wall beside the open door of the bathroom, and below were floating shelves which housed a DVD player, satellite box, and tons of DVDs.

  His walls were a neutral off-white color, and the bedding and curtains were decorated in a dark navy blue and tan. The prints above his bed of different musical instruments were eye-catching and so fitting. The wall above his desk had several types of guitars hanging from it. It reminded me that I had yet to hear him play. He’d sung to me once, though.

  I walked over to a guitar he had in a guitar stand. “Will you play for me one day?” I asked.

  He gave me a smirk. “I can do that tonight.”

  I smiled, feeling excited. Dance and music went hand in hand. I loved dancing, but I needed the music to inspire me. I couldn’t wait to hear his music.

  Golden strolled over to the dresser and withdrew one of his T-shirts. “Your favorite shampoo, conditioner, and body wash are in my shower.” He suddenly seemed shy as he grabbed the back of his neck. “There’s also a new pack of razors and lotion for women in the drawer of the vanity.”

  “Thanks, Gold.” I smiled, taking the T-shirt from him before I kissed his cheek. I grabbed my overnight bag and slipped it over my shoulder.

  I’d had a fantastic night with him so far. His laid-back nature and desire to make me laugh and smile had been precisely what I needed. I generally didn’t like shopping that much, but he had made it fun.

  “I’m gonna get ready for bed, take your time, darlin’,” he drawled before he leaned forward, giving me another lingering kiss.

  His mouth was hot on mine. His lips were coaxing a response from me, and right as I began to melt into him, he pulled away with a knowing smile.

  “Hurry up,” he bade me with a smile.

  I nodded and hurried into his bathroom. I pulled my long hair up into a messy bun before I took off my clothes. I turned on the shower and smiled as I noticed the brand-new toiletries he’d purchased for me. The guys were thoughtful like that. How did I get so fortunate?

  I rushed through my shower and slipped on his simple white t-shirt. I contemplated the underwear I should slide on. I smiled wickedly before grabbing a pair of white lacey hipsters. I pulled my hair down and ran a quick brush through it. His shirt barely grazed the top of my thighs, and I liked that it smelled just like him.

  I took a deep breath before I opened the door, my nerves almost getting the best of me once more. I noticed Golden had turned off all the lights except for the two dim recessed lights above the bed.

  He was sitting on a stool at the foot of the bed, tuning his guitar in nothing but a pair of jogging pants. The band of his boxer shorts was peeking out on his hips. I could see the tail end of his tattoo in the deep V of his hips and abs.

  I stopped and bit my bottom lip. His runner's body was slim but muscled, and his golden skin glowed under the soft white lights above him. The honeyed highlights in his hair looked like a halo around his head. I didn’t know who named him, but it really was the most perfect name for him.

  He looked up and gave me one of his infamous smirks before his eyes traveled down my body. I saw the lust light up his eyes before he licked his bottom lip. “I have a front row seat for ya, darlin’.”

  I smiled and walked over to his bed, sat down, and drew my knees up to my chest, hugging them. I was hyper aware of my bare legs, and from his lingering gaze, so was he.

  “Sing me a song, Mr. Guitar Man.” I smiled impishly.

  He grinned and nodded. He began to strum his guitar, and it took me a second to recognize the song he started playing. His mouth opened and he began to sing the opening lines of Beautiful Crazy by Luke Combs. His voice was so silky smooth, with a hint of grit to it. I felt goosebumps erupt across my arms.

  I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so passionate about anything. The way he looked down at his fingers and occasionally gazed at me made me aware of his eyes—they really were like the windows to his soul, and right now they were wide open. I could see how much he loved playing and singing.

  When he got to the chorus. He looked up at me and smiled. I realized he was serenading me, and I felt my insides melt. I liked that it wasn’t a typical love song. It was about a man embracing a woman’s flaws, ones that would drive most men crazy, but at the same time, he notices her strengths.

  When he stopped playing and singing, he looked at me somewhat expectantly.

  From this night forward, I was pretty sure that song was going to be one of my favorite country music songs of all time.

  I clapped and smiled at him, leaning forward to kiss him. I tried to convey all my feelings of contentment in my kiss. “Thank you, that was beyond beautiful. You know,” I said seriously. “If you ever decided to pack up and move to Nashville, I bet you’d have a record deal in less than a year. Better yet, I need to record you and send it to the Voice or one of those other singing competitions.”

  He chuckled and pushed his wavy, golden hair out of his eyes. It had gotten longer since I’d first met him. I drove my fingertips through the soft waves.

  “Mam used to tell me that all the time. She was artistic. Photography and the piano were her thing. Da liked building things. He made beauty out of wood and vehicles. They were so different, yet so alike. I always thought it was a mother’s love that urged her to tell me that I should take my music seriously.” He shrugged. “I love it, but I’m not sure if I could make a career out of it.”

  I got off the bed and straddled his thighs. “I really wish I could have met them.”

  “Me, too.” He smiled sadly. “They would have loved you.”

  I kissed him once more, wanting to get closer to him. The closer I got, the more I began to rethink my rule about taking our relationship beyond kissing. His hands weaved into my hair, and he tilted my head to get better acc
ess to my mouth. Our tongues tangled with each other, and I heard him groan as he began to run his hands against my legs.

  When his hands reached my thighs, I moaned into his mouth and rocked my hips closer to him. I could feel his erection through the thin fabric of his pants. He made a noise between a groan and growl.

  “We have to stop,” he groaned as he began to kiss down my throat. “I really just planned on holding you tonight.”

  I leaned back and boldly slipped my hand beneath the waistband of his pants. His erection jerked in my palm at the contact. I reveled in how hot, hard, yet so silky-smooth it was. I heard him gasp and felt him still for a moment as I stroked him up and down.

  After a stroke or two, I felt the sticky, warm, wetness at the tip, and I couldn’t help but lick my lips. There was nothing more empowering than knowing I could affect a man so quickly that he was… leaking.

  “Are you sure?” he asked huskily.

  I nodded and gasped as his hand began to tease the elastic around my thigh. His long, calloused fingers grazed my heat before he rubbed the wetness between my legs.

  He muttered a curse before he pulled me in closer, his mouth still trailing hot kisses against the column of my throat. He stood up, my legs wrapped around him, and put me on the bed before he tore my panties down. My legs fell apart reflexively, and he bit his bottom lip, gazing at my slick core. I went to close my legs self-consciously, but he shook his head.

  “No, ma’am,” he husked. “I like seeing you this wet for me, darlin’. Now, what does my girl want? Would you like to ride my fingers, my mouth, or my cock?”

  My eyes widened slightly at his bold dirty words. It shouldn’t have shocked me that my dark horse had a kinky side in bed.

  He lightly traced my folds with his fingers, grazing around where I wanted him to be but not quite touching me yet.

  “Tell me what you want, Peyton,” he tsked.

  I felt Luna rise up in me as I sat up on my elbows, so turned on I could barely contain myself. “I want you to go down on me, and after you make me come, I want to feel you inside me.” My voice was husky, almost unrecognizable.

  He growled in satisfaction before he pushed my legs wider. He pulled me to the edge of the bed so that my ass was almost hanging off. He knelt on the floor and slowly began to tease me with his tongue. He was so close to my core when knocking sounded on the door at the bottom of the stairs.

  Footsteps came pounding up the stairs, and we both hastily scrambled to locate my underwear. Golden made a noise as he held them up. I barely had them pulled up when Paxton reached the doorway, skidding to a halt.

  “Yikes, sorry for interrupting.” He clearly wasn’t fooled. I knew my hair was a wild mess around my face and shoulders, and I could feel the warmth in my cheeks.

  “No, you’re not,” Golden growled. “You can’t just barge up here without a response when the door’s closed. What do ya want, Pax?”

  I hid behind the curtain of my hair, mortified that he almost caught us in an intimate act. I also felt sexually frustrated. Golden had made me wet with a few dirty words, caresses and kisses.

  Pax cleared his throat, and I looked up. I thought I saw a flash of jealousy enter Paxton’s eyes before he smirked. “Mr. Fanning is here, and Loch asked me to come get you guys since neither one of you were answering your phones.”

  I hadn’t even taken my phone out of my bag, and I could see Golden had his phone plugged in and on the nightstand.

  Golden looked at his bedside clock. “It’s nearly eleven o’clock at night. Why?”

  Paxton frowned. “I don’t know, but I think it’s important. And get dressed.”

  ●

  The first thing I noticed when I entered the kitchen was Mr. Fanning and Mr. Isaacs looking as if they’d just arrived. They were both wearing stylish button-up shirts, gray and black slacks, and their hair was still done. They were sitting at the counter drinking beers.

  I heard Kyler's distinctive laugh in the foyer before I caught a peal of answering feminine laughter.

  “Got it,” a feminine voice said flirtatiously. “I’ll text you right now.”

  I tensed. Did I just hear that right? Why was Kyler getting another girl’s number? And in front of me?

  I tried to cover my surprise when I noticed Ms. Houser, my new coach, come into the kitchen, followed closely by Kyler. Ms. Houser was dressed in a little black dress and stilettos, and her makeup was darker and thicker than it had been in school. Kyler was dressed in a white button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up on his corded forearms, and his jeans looked new. His ever-present five o’clock shadow was gone, and his work boots were nowhere to be found. In their place was a pair of fashionable dark brown leather shoes.

  I stiffened slightly and a feeling of jealously sank to the bottom of my stomach like a leaden rock. Why were they all dressed up? Why didn’t Kyler tell me he was going out? I didn’t expect him to inform me about his every move, obviously, but they all knew where I was at all times, especially lately.

  Golden stepped up behind me and placed his arms over my shoulders. “What’s this all about?” he immediately asked.

  Mr. Fanning looked up, and he gave me an appraising look. “If it’s all possible, Peyton, may I have a word with you? Lochlann gave us permission to use the living room, and Ivy will be there to make sure you feel more comfortable.”

  “About what?” I asked in confusion.

  Mr. Fanning cleared his throat and shifted somewhat uncomfortably. “I would prefer if we spoke in private.”

  “Why?” I asked once more. I knew I was somewhat unreasonable, but I was tired and a bit cranky over several reasons. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of everyone here if it’s that serious. I don’t keep any secrets from my friends.” I looked over at Kyler for a brief moment before quickly looking over at Paxton.

  Paxton and Golden were my safe space right now. Ms. Houser was entirely too close to Kyler at the moment, and Lochlann wouldn’t even meet my gaze.

  “You’re not in trouble,” Ms. Houser reassured me with a sympathetic smile. “We were just made aware of some things tonight, and we wanted to clear the air before the board got involved.”

  “I’ll go in the other room,” Mr. Isaacs stood. “Just call me when it’s over.” He strode towards the great room.

  I immediately felt anxious when he wouldn’t meet my gaze. What was going on?

  Mr. Fanning waited until Mr. Isaacs left the room before turning to me. “How would you describe your relationship with Mr. Isaacs?”

  I tried to hide any signs of nervousness. “He’s a friend,” I answered truthfully. “He and the guys have been a great support system for me since I started school here.”

  “Has he ever…touched you, inappropriately?” Mr. Fanning inquired. “Or have you ever come onto him?” He almost seemed embarrassed to ask the last question.

  Golden snorted. “This has nothing to do with Peyton and Lochlann. This has everything to do with Selena and the party she was at on Friday,” he brilliantly presumed. “I imagine she started making false accusations as soon as she realized the trouble she was in? Plus, she’s still bitter that Loch dumped her after she tried to get the kids taken away from us. She was threatened by Peyton’s presence in our lives the moment she realized how much Peyton’s around.”

  He shook his head and continued. “It’s pretty clear that ya’ll were out together tonight, just as Peyton and I were. It’s also fairly evident that we just came from my room. Lochlann’s my brother. He lives here. There’s no way around it. If I want to spend time with my girl, or if she wants to hang out with Pax, it’s more convenient for us to be here since we are helping raise our younger siblings. Up until recently, Peyton has been helping us a lot with the kids as well. It was inevitable that a friendship would have formed between them.”

  I was a bag of mixed emotions. I already felt like enough of my personal life was out in the open. Now two people I just met, who didn’t know me, had
an impression of me I didn’t want them to have.

  Ms. Houser looked over at me. “Are your parents okay with you spending the night here, or do you have a curfew?”

  I now felt anger and frustration. Ms. Houser seemed genuinely concerned, and I knew Mr. Fanning was just doing his job, but I was getting tired of everyone meddling in my life recently.

  “No, I don’t have a curfew,” I answered honestly. “And I’m not sure how much you’ve heard yet, but it’s no secret that my biological father didn’t acknowledge me until recently. And if you can find my other parents, I’ll ask them whether they care where I am and with whom. I don’t know what my lack of curfew or where I stay has anything to do with the accusations brought against me and Mr. Isaacs.”

  “Peyton’s grandfather is well aware of her whereabouts,” Paxton piped up. “With the current happenings, we felt it was safer if she was among her friends to look out for her.”

  I looked over at Paxton and attempted to smile at him.

  “To answer your questions,” I said a bit stiffly. “No, Mr. Isaacs has never come onto me, nor have I come onto him.”

  Mr. Fanning sighed. “So, Mr. Isaacs has never taken you to school or touched you?”

  He seemed to hate asking me the questions, but it still infuriated me. I really wanted to scream with frustration, but I knew it wouldn’t help our cause. I was only thankful that my answers weren’t all complete lies. Our feelings were mutual. We held hands and hugged, but it had never gone any further than that.

  “Yes to both but not in an inappropriate context. He has taken me to school. Once. Up until recently, I had a bike.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “It was raining. I was spending the night over here, and Mr. Isaacs offered to take me to the gym for my workout since he was headed in the same direction. Golden had to take Clay to daycare, and Paxton had to take Maisie to school. Selena saw me enter the school with him. He hugged me, in a platonic manner. After my half-sister was taken and right before the press conference. It’s the same type of hug I get from my grandpa. There was nothing sexual or sordid about it.”