“Respect me, minnows! Ready?” I ask him. He nods eagerly. I launch him into the water.
“Me next!”
“No me!”
“Not uh. It’s my turn. I’m the only girl.”
For the next hour and a half, the minnows do not respect me. In fact, they hang off me, begging to be thrown again and again into the water. I chase them, toss them, and create so many whirlpools I’m completely out of breath by the time Harley’s mom calls it quits. I seriously need to hit the gym again.
She holds her hand out to me while I’m pulling myself out of the water. I stare at it. Part of me wants to pull myself out of the water. I’ve been doing it my whole life. I don’t need her help. But this is Harley’s mom. I have to respect her. I put my hand in hers and allow her to help me. “Thanks.”
“Of course. I know how tiring the bunch can be. Can I talk to you?” She hands me a towel.
I wipe my face with it, wondering why she wants to talk to me now. I’m the loser with the dad in prison and a mom who doesn’t want anything to do with me. I can’t wait to get out of here and drive head first into something solid. “Sure.”
I don’t look for Harley. I can’t anymore. I’m only here still because I’m Bach Bachmen and this family of Little Mr. and Miss Perfect’s isn’t going to chase me off. I’ve run from far worse things in my life. I follow Nena over to the outside bar and grill area. Everyone else is heading over to the patio where snacks are set up. She stands behind the grill and grabs a pair of tongs.
“Brad, Harley’s father, usually did the grilling. I was wondering if you could take it over? Grandpa can’t stand for a long time and anyone else is just going to ruin the meat. Betty went home for the night. We’re on our own for dinner.” She holds the tongs out, offering me something I can’t take.
I can’t take Harley’s dad’s spot. No. Nope. Never. Not going to happen. “I can’t,” I tell her, knowing she’ll understand. “Ask Froy to do it.”
“I don’t want Froy to do it. I asked you.”
I look into her eyes and the strangest thing happens. I barf all over her, spilling my guts like my last name is pussy now. “Did Harley talk to you?” I guess. She shrugs. That’s a yes. “If she did then you know this isn’t real. She’s miserable over Dylan. She’s confused. She’s hurt. She wants someone to take it out on. She doesn’t really want me. I don’t belong here. I know it. You know it. Hell, even she knows it.” I run a hand through my hair, pulling hard on my scalp. I need a drink. “I’ll leave her here tonight. Let her get over Dylan for the summer. When he comes back home they can figure it out.”
As she watches me spill my guts a strange look enters her eyes. It’s both tender and firm. I expect her to agree. There isn’t even room to disagree. It’s her only option. But she doesn’t take it.
“Take the tongs, Bach.”
“I don’t want them.” Didn’t she hear me? I’m no good. I’m going to destroy her. I’m destroying her.
“Take them. Now!” she whispers harshly, shoving the damn things into my hands. “If you break my daughter’s heart I’m going to make you wish you’d never met her. Do you hear me?”
I look at her helplessly. “It’s not like that between us. It can’t be like that.”
She shakes her head, smiling sadly. “It’s always the handsome ones that are idiots.” Then she walks away, going to her perfect family and leaving me with a plate full of raw steaks.
I angrily grab the steaks and slap them on the gas grill. I don’t grill meat. I barely even eat unless it’s liquid. The grease sizzles and the smell of cooking meat wafts around me. I can’t help it. It’s like my eyes know where she is. Harley wraps her sun kissed body in her beach towel. I can’t stand how disappointed I am by it. I won’t get to see her body for much longer, won’t get to be a part of this perfect family. Why the hell do I even want to? Since when do I want perfection? Searching for that is a lost game. Even being around it now is making my skin crawl.
Harley’s eyes scan the backyard. When she finds what she’s looking for she smiles slightly at me. If I don’t smile back she’ll come over here. She’ll know. I force my lips to give her what she wants. Her shoulders sag in relief and she heads over to her family, unassuming that this dysfunctional friendship is gone. I know I’m supposed to go to her first, I promised, but sometimes promises have to be broken if they’re hurting the other person. And that person is me.
As I flip the steaks I feel her eyes on me. I don’t look up. I let her gaze slide over my body. My face. Me. I want her. I admit it to myself now that it’s over. I want Harley Evans more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my entire life. All of the women I’ve fucked combined could never compete with her. I want to wake up to her and know that I deserve her. I want what Dylan will have. I wish I had a pair of sunglasses. I blame the heat from the grill on the stinging in my eyes. I don’t cry over anyone. I try and wonder when it happened, when did I fall for her? Was it when she came into my apartment? When her pain showed in her light brown eyes? Was it when she let me into her apartment and pushed the button through my shirt? Was it when she found me in my bed burning in the shed? Was it when I tasted her, kissed her, fought with her? How could I fall this hard for someone I barely even know?
I didn’t even know I could fall.
And yet I’ve fallen.
Hard.
Into a wood chipper.
“I want a good piece of meat, Bach. Not a rubber sole!”
I look away from the meat and over to the perfect Evans family. Everyone but Harley and her grandfather are busy eating snacks. “Yeah, yeah,” I grumble, trying to shake my mood off. But I can’t. This time my mood isn’t temporary. It’s me.
Taking the steaks off the grill I’m proud of my work. I turn the grill off and walk the steaks over. I have to get out of here. “Where’s the bathroom?” I ask Harley’s grandpa as I lean in.
Harley’s watching me. I can feel her.
“In the house just off the kitchen there’s one.”
“Thanks,” I whisper, patting the old man on the back. I like him. He’s honest.
“Nice to meet you, Bach. Not often you find a young man who can appreciate a good tumbler of scotch.”
He knows. He knows and he’s not going to force me to stay. I like him even better. “Thanks for sharing the good stuff with me.”
He smiles kindly then nods his head.
I quickly dip behind the gazebo out of Harley’s sight and disappear into the house. I head past the bathroom in exchange for the stairs. My clothes are still in Froy’s bedroom. After he leant me a pair of trunks, I left them there when I changed. I push open his door and spot my clothes on his dresser. I hurriedly change into them. When I’m done I hang his trunks up in the bathroom to dry. My wet hair slides down my neck and soaks into my shirt, reminding me of cold piss. I hate piss. I quickly tie my shoes and get my keys out of my pocket. Just as I near the top of the stairs I find Harley coming up them.
She takes one look at me and her whole face falls. “Where are you going?”
Damn it! I go down the stairs anyway. When I get to her outstretched arm blocking my path I finally look into her breathtaking golden eyes. “Stay here with your family, please. Don’t come back to Crystal Gulf until you have to.”
Her breaths come suddenly, too many breaths. She grabs for me. “You’re not leaving. Me first, Bach.”
I use the opportunity to slip past her. Her bare feet pound after me as I hurry for the door. I have to get out of here. Away from her. From her perfect perfection. Before I can reach the front entrance, she barrels past me, using her body to block the door.
Fire burns in her eyes. “You’re such a pussy.”
“I know.”
“No. I mean you’re a pussy, Bach. If you don’t like something about yourself then change it. Don’t use it as an excuse to run from everyone and everything.”
“Is that what you’re trying to do to me? Change me?” I want to grab her, shake h
er, and hug her. “Guess what? I don’t change. Not for any of those women before you, and not for any women after you. Not even for you, Harley!” I roar, making her take a step back.
She wants to hit me. This time it doesn’t turn me on. It makes me yearn for the road so I can put as many miles between Harley and me as possible.
“Bach, I want you to know something. I don’t understand why I can’t leave you alone. I can’t keep my hands off you. I can’t do anything that doesn’t end with your name. And until I know why I’m not letting you leave here. Not to mention the fact that you’re going to leave here and fall right into a bottle. I can’t let that happen again.”
Wood chipper, I want to correct her. She isn’t going to let me leave unless I make her. I look at her lips, not her eyes, as I lie to her for the first time. “I don’t want you to figure it out. I don’t give a shit about you, Harley, to wait.”
She shoves at my chest hard. “You’re lying. Why are you lying?”
“I’m not lying,” I lie. “I’m only here for Dylan. He told me to watch out for you for the summer. Keep you away from other guys. That’s what I’ve been doing.”
“That’s bullshit. You … you’re … no way. Bach, you’re a bastard, but you’re not that much of a bastard. You would never do that to me. You came to my apartment for me!”
My chest is opening, cracking, ripping my heart apart. I have to get out of here before I cave. I don’t want to hurt her, but hurting her for a little while is better than hurting her permanently. She’ll get over me, move on, and live the life she deserves. I swallow my feelings, force them down, and look into her angel eyes. “That’s what I’ve been doing. It’s the only reason why I’m here. But that arrangement has gotten out of hand. I can’t keep doing it. That’s why I won’t have sex with you. You’re just a promise to Dylan. I think you’re a stuck up princess who isn’t worth my time. Why would I sleep with you, Harley? Why would I want anything to do with you when there are a million other girls out there who are far more better?”
Her heart-shaped mouth opens in shock. Her eyes fill with pain. This time it’s my fault. I almost lose it then. I want to take it back. I’m sorry, Harley, I’m so sorry. She looks as if I hit her, violated her, and broke her. She grabs her chest as if the pain is too much for her. A shocked squeak escapes her lips.
“I don’t believe you.” She shakes her head, as if she can force me to take it back. “You care about me. I know you do. You—”
The evilest part of me is glad she doesn’t believe me. I stop her by covering her mouth with my hand. I wish I could kiss it one last time. I have to make her believe me. “You already threw yourself at me. You really want to keep going?”
That does it. She slaps me so damn hard my ears ring. I groan out loud. I can’t help it. That shit hurt. I lean over and grab my jaw. “You feel better?” I growl.
She does it again. I want her to. I want her to hurt me.
Tears stream down her cheeks. She grabs my face in her hands and kisses the red print I know is there. “I’m sorry, Bach.” Her tears wet my face. “I’m sorry. Don’t leave. You promised me I would come first. I’m sorry.”
I shake her off. If I have to hear her apologize I’m going to give in. I can’t give in. I have to go. I can’t feel her lips on my skin. “So am I,” I spit, shoving her out of my way. I don’t want to do it, but she won’t let me go.
“Get back here!” she screeches.
I don’t run. I walk fast. When I get to my Corvette she knocks my keys out of my hand. I reach down to scoop them up.
“Bach.”
It’s knee jerk. I don’t mean to do it. It’s just the sound of her heart breaking kills me. I look into her eyes and fall in.
“Don’t leave,” she pleads. “I’m sorry for pushing you. I won’t push you ever again.”
“Don’t worry. You didn’t push me. I just don’t want you.” I quickly get in my Corvette and lock my doors.
She stands there in her driveway with the white mansion framing her. I memorize her before I pull away, pretending she’s smiling, not crying. I pretend she’s waving goodbye, and not falling on her knees, that she’s mine, and not something I’m losing forever.
We’re not pretending anymore.
I press down on the pedal until it touches the floor, almost skidding over the side of the turnoff for the highway. I speed around a big rig, get in the fast lane, and race toward Crystal Gulf. Toward home. Toward my old self.
A dark sense of relief fills me. I know this Bach. It’s like putting on an old sweater I haven’t worn since last winter. It still fits perfectly. It has a smell now though and it’s itchier than I remember. It’s not as perfect as I’d like believe.
When I get to my beach house I throw my car in park and I march right over to the neighbors. I feel bad for every woman in Crystal Gulf. I have a lot of running to do. I hope they can keep up.
A buff guy with a Mickey Mouse tattoo over his right tit answers the door. “What’s up, neighbor?”
I don’t bother with introductions. “Mole above her top lip. Pretty brown hair. Big tits. She here?”
He laughs. “You mean Debbie.”
“Debbie. Yeah. She here?”
“She was last night. I can check. Come in. You want a drink?”
I don’t want scotch anymore. “Vodka and Red Bull?”
“Sure.”
There are empty bottles and food everywhere. The music’s playing. A few girls in their bathing suits are dancing to some lame pop song in the living room, moving their hips and plump asses to the beat. No apples here. I can relax. One of them in particular catches me eye. Blond. I only want blond now. Blue eyes. I can do blue eyes. She catches me watching and winks, showing me how she can move.
“Here,” Buff guy says, handing me a red cup full of vodka and energy drinks. “Debbie’s not here.”
“That’s okay,” I tell him, watching the blond. “I’m good.” Debbie’s a brunette anyway. “Thanks for the drink.”
“You got something to make tonight worth it? That E you brought last time was insane.”
“No. But I can get some.” I don’t really hear him. All I see is my escape in front of me. I chug my drink, toss the empty cup on the floor with the rest of them, and head over to Blondie.
“What’s your name, cutie?”
I don’t want her to talk. No talking. But I know I have to talk to her. I can’t take her clothes off and escape if she doesn’t hear something she likes. I smile at her. It’s my best smile. The empty one. The one Harley never gets. Just thinking her name gives me a headache. “Bach.”
“Like Sebastian Bach?”
“The rock star?” I shrug. “If you want it to be.”
“I do.” She grins, touching my arm. “You want to dance, Bach?”
I’m not named after anyone. My name is a pathetic attempt at parenthood. My dad thought it would be funny if my last name was my first name, so he could remember it even when he’s drunk. The nurse didn’t know whether he was joking or not so she wrote it down on my birth certificate. I always kind of liked it, even given the emotional effort put into its origin. I had to like it. But I’m not telling her any of that shit. She’s just someone with an escape route between her legs.
“We can dance at my place.” I nod toward my house as if she can see it. “I live next door.”
She bites her lip. For one second I’m unsure of myself. Is she going to say no? They never say no.
She looks me over, like someone looking for a rental car. It’s only temporary. She doesn’t have to want me forever. Just for tonight. “My name’s Manny, by the way. We can go to your place. It’s kind of loud here anyway.”
Why didn’t she say no? Why do I want her to? Harley would never do this. She’d never screw a guy just because he wanted to screw her. But she’s not Harley. That’s the whole point.
“It’ll be just as loud there.”
She laughs. “Yeah, but I want to hear myself.”
I take her hand and lead her through the filthy party house, across the lawn, and into my house. I lock the door just in case someone with light brown eyes wants to stop by for old time’s sake. I lead Stephanie, Terry, Marie, I don’t fucking know her name, to my bedroom.
“I thought we were going to dance,” she says when I slam my bedroom door closed. I lock that one too.
“We will,” I tell her, taking my shirt off. “Later.”
“You don’t waste any time, do you?” She laughs, running her hands down my body.
“No.” I grab her hips and bring her close to me.
“Well I want to dance. Lay down. I’ll dance for you.” She pushes me back to my bed until I fall on top of it. “You have anything to play music on?”
I fight not to roll my eyes. I don’t need to be teased right now. I want to fuck her so she can leave. I take my phone out anyway and open my music folder. Some gritty, sexy rock song Justine downloaded on my phone fills my room. I have to remember to tell her not to do that shit. She’s not the one paying the bill. Shit. I force myself to pay attention to Fanny.
She smiles and puts her hands in the air. “I’ve seen you at Mike’s place before,” she says.
Who’s Mike? “Mhm.”
“You never noticed me though. But I noticed you. Your eyes are kind of hard to forget.”
My room is disgusting. There are clothes all over it. It smells too. Doesn’t she smell it? She slides her hands down her body, over her stomach, and touches the waistband on her jean shorts. They’re already undone. She’s wearing a bikini underneath. My dick is as limp as it’s ever been. I don’t even bother touching myself. I’m not drunk. Girls like Fanny only work when I’ve had a few drinks.
Destroy Me (Crystal Gulf Book 1) Page 20
