Fearless (A Carolina Coastal Novel Book 2)
Page 3
His silence screams in this car, ricocheting off the expensive leather interior. “I’m sorry.”
What was that? I couldn’t understand his strangled words. I check my hands but nope, still in my lap and not wrapped around his throat. “I think I misheard you. Are you okay? You look like you’re in pain.”
“I’m sorry, Liv.” I’m imagining things. I’m drunker than I thought. “I was a real dick to you in college.” He acts like it was so long ago.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’ve really changed since last week.” A shadow of a smirk appears on his pouty pink lips.
“That took a lot of effort to apologize. Don’t think I go around throwing around ‘I’m sorrys’ left and right.”
“I can tell. Your carotid looks ready to burst. Are you on blood pressure medication? You oughta be.” I pull up directions to the nearest emergency room, just in case.
“I don’t treat everyone this way. You should feel special.”
He’s crazy, right? Am I being filmed? Is Punk’d still a thing, ‘cause I should start looking for Ashton now.
“Yes, I’m sure everyone is green with envy that I get personally bullied by the popular jock. How did I get so lucky?” I fake puppy dog eyes as I look at him.
“I don’t bully you. We bicker. There’s a difference. We’re practically an old married couple.”
“Need I remind you of all the shit you pulled on me these last few years?” I start ticking items off on my fingers. “When I got the flu, you told everyone I was pregnant and therefore the next immaculate conception. You told people my boyfriend was my cousin. My first cousin. Then you hacked Dr. Rollin’s grade book and gave me an F. You told McKenna I was kidnapped by one of the janitors. She called my parents and he got fired, Lucas.”
“In my defense, I got him his job back.”
“You’re infuriating.” I tug on my hair, tempted to pull out the strands because of him.
“You’ll get over it.” He puts the car in park and I look at my surroundings, unaware we even stopped because I was too deep in my pit of rage. “Let’s go. We’re here.”
Five
Lucas
“What are we doing at the marina?”
A sarcastic reply is on the tip of my tongue, but I need to play it cool. She already has one foot out the door and if I push too hard, the other foot will quickly follow.
“I told you—we’re going on an adventure.” I park the car and face her. I’m still in shock that she even agreed to come with me in the first place.
Olivia Hart is a fucking bombshell and she doesn’t even know it. Her skin is pale and so smooth you’d think she was wearing pounds of make-up, but in reality, she’s a natural beauty. Her brown hair falls in soft waves over her shoulders and her eyes are piercing blue, like rare sapphires.
She’s short, but her personality is fierce. She’s a spitfire, the whole package. The majority of the time I want to grab her and kiss her to stop the next sassy retort or insult from flowing out of her perfect pink lips. But riling her up is too damn fun and her usual uptight behavior still irritates the hell out of me.
“Do you trust me?” I offer her my trademarked panty-dropping smile and she narrows her eyes at me.
“I trust you about as much as I trust milk two weeks past the expiration date.”
And yet she’s still here…and she’s getting out of my car. Maybe I don’t have her completely figured out after all.
I lead her down the dock to a boat named Seas the Day. “Ladies first.”
“You have a boat?” I shrug and lead her aboard. It’s an average-sized houseboat.
I find the light switch and flick on the deck lights. We stick out like a sore thumb in the dark marina, but I don’t care, and it seems Liv doesn’t mind either.
“This boat is gorgeous.”
I hum in agreement and open a small cabinet above the wheel.
No way. There’s no way. I notice a shiny silver key taped to the interior wall of the cabinet. I detach the tape and compare the key to the slot for the ignition. I try it and holy shit the boat turns on.
I guess it really is time to carpe diem.
“What are you doing?” She appears behind me, so close her chest brushes against my back. Maybe she drank more than I thought at the bar earlier. I knew she was drunk, but I didn’t think she was rub-her-boobs-against-my-back drunk.
Not that I mind.
“Taking the boat out for a spin.” I shrug and her mouth drops open and her skin goes ghost-white. “Is there a problem?”
“I assumed we were just, I don’t know, hanging out. Not going anywhere.” She walks to the side of the boat, looking over as her knuckles grip the railing.
“Come on, Hart, live a little.” With narrowed eyes, she shoots daggers at me. She can’t back down from a challenge, especially not when I’m the challenger.
“Do you even know how to drive a boat?” She cocks a brow, her lips pursed in disapproval.
“Watch me.” I have some experience, but I’m no Captain Ahab. I’ll just take her for a little spin, anchor it down for a while, and then we’ll come back. No harm, no foul.
I don’t take it too far. Far enough that no one notices us, but not too far that I lose the way back. We’re smooth sailing for almost twenty minutes, though you wouldn’t know that from the way Olivia’s hands are clutching the seat under her ass.
“You good, Liv?” A laugh bubbles up my throat, but I suppress it. I don’t want to piss her off too much and risk her jumping overboard.
“Peachy,” she says like someone who is definitely not peachy. I stop the boat and her hands ease up a little. “I get seasick, okay? Throw that in with the list of things you can make fun of me for.”
“For which you make fun of me.” She stares at me with furrowed brows, trying to understand me as if I spoke to her in mandarin.
“What?”
“It’s basic grammar. You can’t end a sentence with a proposition. I am an English teacher now, after all.”
“Somehow you just became even more insufferable.” I bark out a laugh.
I leave my post and sit on the couch beside her on the deck. We’re not touching and yet the space between us sizzles. I can’t understand it. She may be hot, but she’s not someone I ever considered taking that next step with. We’re not even friends let alone anything more.
Then again, angry fucking my enemy sounds like a damn good time if I could talk her into it.
“Why did you agree to come with me tonight?” It’s a thought that’s been plaguing me since we left the bar. Olivia hates me, and for good reason if I’m being honest.
Her face goes red and she bites her lip. I stare at her mouth, unsure why I’m wishing I were the one biting her lip when normally I want to duct tape her mouth shut.
“I’ll tell you, but if you give me any shit about it, I’m jumping overboard. Sharks come and get me.” She points at me and gives me a stern look.
“Why do you always assume I’m going to make fun of you?”
“Because Asshole is your middle name?” She jumps up with agitation and it makes me smirk.
I like when she’s feisty.
“I’m not going to make fun of you! Christ, if it’s this much work I don’t want to know the answer anyway.” That’s a lie. I’m dying to know why she left the bar with me and agreed to everything since.
“I envy you, Luke. Don’t you get that? You have everything and it all comes so naturally to you. You’re fearless and secure of yourself and everything I wish I was. I want to be fearless. I want to live.”
She’s pacing during her speech but at the end she spins around, unable to face me as she whispers her confession into the wind.
“Why would you want to be like me?” I mutter under my breath and it gets lost in the sea breeze. “Olivia, none of us are fearless, but that’s what makes us feel alive. That rush of adrenaline that comes with risks and taking chances, that’s what it’s all about. Feeling like we’re in danger, tha
t’s when we’re finally living.”
“But I don’t even have the courage do to the things that scare me.” She looks at me, her big blue orbs full of emotion.
I stalk toward her, grasping her shoulders in my hands and spinning her to face me. I don’t lift my palms from her arms as I bend my knees, making us face to face and ensuring she meets my gaze.
“So live, Olivia. Allow yourself to feel whatever it is you’re afraid of.” I search her eyes and I see how vulnerable she is in this moment. Maybe it’s the alternate universe we’re stuck in tonight, but she doesn’t pull away from me when I lean into her.
I kiss her and she tastes sweet like peaches. Her hands float over me, unsure of where to land. I help her out, gripping onto her waist and pulling her flush against my body. In turn, she threads her fingers through my hair and tugs on the strands.
We make out, ravaging one another on Seas the Day in the middle of the Cape Fear River. We must still be stuck in a twilight zone and despite the fact that we seemingly hate one another, I don’t want to break the kiss. She moans into my mouth and it seems she doesn’t want this moment to end either.
After our lips are swollen and our breaths come faster than we can catch them, we part. Shock consumes Olivia’s face. Her plump pink lips drop into an ‘o’ and her eyes widen as if she’s finally caught up to the past several minutes.
As if her limbs are detached from her brain, she lifts her hand. I watch it happen like an out of body experience while it plays in slow motion. It’s not until the sting radiates through my cheek that I know for a fact it’s real.
“What the fuck, Liv? You slapped me.” I rub away the burn and at least she has the decency to seem ashamed. Her hands cover her mouth and her brows crinkle.
“You can’t kiss me. I hate you.”
“Wow, tell me how you really feel.”
In an instant her face turns a shade of green and she darts to the side of the boat. She proceeds to vomit over the railing and I pray it all lands in the water.
I walk to find the bathroom, assuming there will be towels in there I can dampen for her to wipe her mouth on. I walk downstairs and find a bedroom. I peek around inside at the odd décor. There’s a rainbow-colored bedspread, a copy of Robinson Crusoe lying next to the bed, and a tiny pirate figurine on the small dresser.
There’s an adjacent bathroom where I wet a hand towel and before I go back upstairs to her, I swipe my hand across the dresser and shove the token in my pocket.
She takes the towel without even looking at me and I run a hand through my hair as I return to my captain’s chair. Time to take this baby home. The night is officially over.
We ride the boat back in silence, though I can tell her mind is spinning a thousand thoughts per minute. It’s one of the many things I can’t stand about Liv—her inability to live in the moment. She has to overthink everything because of fear or indecision or what-the-fuck-ever.
I dock the boat on my first try, which is shocking since I’ve never actually docked a boat before. I only bumped the side a little on my way in, but I’ll take it as a win. After I climb off, I wait at the bottom, reaching my hand out and offer it to Olivia.
“No thanks. I can do it myself.”
Stubborn woman.
We walk side-by-side back to my car. “You can’t tell me that wasn’t fun.”
“Right, because getting seasick and then physically ill at the mere thought of your tongue entering my mouth is a real treat.” Her arms are crossed as she stomps along the dock and I lag behind her, as if I don’t have a care in the world.
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetheart, but you and I both know you kissed me back.” She hesitates, stumbling over her next step, but recovering nicely. “I must say, Liv, you’re a better kisser than I would’ve thought. Did your pillow provide a lot of practice at night? Or did you use your arm, instead?”
I’m being a dick but that’s only because she pissed me off. Her insufferable ability to ruin everything is a real fucking downer.
“Fuck you, Pucas.”
“Ah, we’re back to the classy nicknames, I see.”
We reach my car and I unlock the doors, though I’m sure she’s tempted to walk home at this point.
“You should really tell your dad or grandpa or whoever owns that boat that you crashed it into the dock. I’m sure they’ll want you to pay the damages.”
“Well, that’s just not possible, Liv.” I start the car and pull out onto the road. She doesn’t direct me to her house, but I know where she lives anyway. Her roommate is a big party-thrower.
“Oh, and why’s that? Afraid your rich daddy will beat you?”
“No, actually. It’s because I don’t know who the owners are.” I’ve accomplished the impossible by making her speechless. I deserve a fucking award.
“You mean to tell me we just STOLE a random person’s BOAT? Isn’t that, like, a felony? I left my fingerprints all over that place.” She runs her fingers through her hair, making it messy with her frantic tugs.
“Calm down. No one is going to catch us or search the boat for fingerprints. Why would they? We didn’t steal or damage anything.” That’s not totally true, but she doesn’t need to know I swiped the tiny pirate figurine from the bedroom.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you developed amnesia within the last ten minutes. Probably from you crashing someone else’s boat!” I miss the silence. It is much preferred to her shrieking.
“Olivia, you need to calm down. Live a little. Don’t you want to be fearless? You’re riddled with fear right now. Take a chill pill.” I probably have a xanny or two in the glove box if she wanted to take a look.
“Your cavalier attitude is infuriating.”
“Your anxiety is infuriating and frustrating and overall fucking annoying. God, you want to know why I kissed you? So you would shut the hell up for five minutes.”
It’s a lie and a hurtful one at that. Her jaw falls slack and tears gather in her eyes. After reintroducing her bottom jaw to the top, she clenches her teeth, forcing the tears not to fall. Her cheeks redden and she stares out the window. Fifteen more minutes until I can drop her off. If I hurry, I might be able to do it in ten.
Six
Olivia
What a motherfucking, goddamn, waste of space, piece of shit Pucas Fletcher is. How in the world does anyone find him attractive or charming or worth a minute of their time? Sure, he has chocolate brown hair that always looks like he just woke up in the sexiest way. Plus, he has that whole mysterious and dangerous thing going for him, with the scars on his face. And then there’s his body, which he takes care of so well he probably follows Mark Wahlberg’s eating and exercise schedule. Okay, and he can be funny when he’s not being a total piece of shit. And it’s evident he’s smart to boot.
But seriously, does all that make him attractive? It doesn’t make him kind or caring or thoughtful. If anything, he’s a manwhore, sticking his dick in anything with two legs and vagina.
He’s probably shit in the sack. Just because he’s a good kisser doesn’t mean he’s a stellar lay. Then again, I don’t have much to compare his kiss to, therefore the kiss was likely mediocre at best. What a waste of a kiss.
I jumped out of his car while it was practically still moving, not offering him a goodbye and sure as shit not saying thank you. Thanks for assaulting me and allowing me to help you commit a fucking felony. We should do it again sometime! What a joke.
I slam my apartment door closed, shocked to find McKenna sitting on the couch waiting for me like a parent who caught me sneaking in. I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.
“I’m surprised to see you home.” I kick off my shoes, flinging them across the room without a care in the world and tossing my purse on the kitchen counter as I walk by.
“Yeah, well, the guy at the club was too nice. I was suspicious of him.” I plop down on the couch by her feet wishing I could erase the last several hours from my mind. I may have been drunk, but I
wasn’t lucky enough to blackout and forget everything.
“Suspicious of what? Him possibly stealing your ice queen heart and forcing you to realize you have one? Or that men aren’t just pieces of meat to chew up and spit out like an anorexic?”
“Rawr. I’m not the one who pissed in your Cheerios. It seems you have no problem staying away from the good guys. You must have experienced a severe case of Invasion of the Body Snatchers to willingly go anywhere with Lucas. So, spill.”
“Ugh, he’s so awful. We stole a boat, then he kissed me, I slapped him, and here we are.” With a shrug, I lie back and throw my arm over my eyes. If I rub my head hard enough will I forget?
“I have so much to say and yet I have no words.” I know exactly what she means. “Good on you for finally slapping him. Why the hell did he kiss you, anyway? Was it any good? Also, am I going to have to bail you out of prison? Because I don’t have that kind of cash or collateral.”
“No, at least, I hope not. Look, I’m wiped. Tomorrow I’ll need to prepare for school. I really just want to go to bed.” It’s already way past my bedtime and I know damn well I won’t fall asleep anytime soon anyway with the drama running through my head.
“Okay, but when your hand sneaks into your pants with Lucas running through your head, try to stifle your moans, will ya?”
I slap her leg as I get up. “You’re disgusting.” I turn my back and walk to my room, but she still manages to get in the last word.
“And yet you didn’t deny it,” she calls after me. “Sweet dreams.”
I wake up in the morning with all the regret and none of the fun stories to back it up. If I’m being honest with myself, I have to admit I kissed Lucas back. Lucas Fletcher, also known as the most vile person to walk the Earth next to Adolf Hitler. If I looked up their ancestry, I’m sure somewhere along the lines, they’re related.